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Osorsen smiled at her excuse, utterly charmed already by her attempts to speak Coptic even as she switched back to Greek. Her accent had been different, but at least in her melodic voice it hadn’t been grating like some others. The general found a laugh deep in his chest as she offered her most useful phrase, thrilled that she seemed to hold no fear of him compared to the looks he was receiving from the outer circle of nobility that muttered and milled around them. Offering her a cup of the wine that was being passed, he lifted it as if in toast to her.
”It seems my lady you know exactly enough to get about."
His Greek was still rough, but it didn’t require Rafa’s translation just yet. He would only call for that when matters of state were being discussed, until then he wanted to let them know exactly how much he understood. He was about to ask to escort her on a turn about the room, a chance to speak to her without those standing about prying, perhaps glean some information about what she knew. If his studies were correct, she was the sister of the Queen who seemed as absent as the King that had called to meet him.
A shadow fell over his plans in the form of a man who looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place until he came closer. The last time he’d seen Vangelis of Kotas, they had both been covered in their fair share of blood and filth, battling for ages in a gridlock until they had been forced to call a truce. He was the only general who had given him such difficulty in a fight, and for that he gave a slight nod of respect to the man. He could appreciate skill in another.
”Your highness. I hardly recognize you without blood on your hands.”
Osorsen’s lip curled slightly as the prince placed a clearly possessive hand on Selene’s waist, guiding her away with little social skill so clearly keen to take her from his presence. Dark eyes bored into the back of the other general as he watched them go before he turned back to the girl’s uncle, switching his tongue to Coptic before returning to his cups and resigning himself to lack of entertainment for the time being.
”A pity to have her betrothed to such a man. I hear the kings of Colchis are rarely home, your niece may become lonely.”
Another voice pulled his attention and he found himself looking into the face of another blonde woman, this one less stunningly captivating than the last but with a spark in her eyes that held his attention. Her introduction as a cousin of the Stone Prince had his brow raising and he glanced at the retreating back of the Colchian man before returning to her as he inclined his head respectfully.
"Lady Imeeya, are you known to be as fierce as your cousin?"
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Osorsen smiled at her excuse, utterly charmed already by her attempts to speak Coptic even as she switched back to Greek. Her accent had been different, but at least in her melodic voice it hadn’t been grating like some others. The general found a laugh deep in his chest as she offered her most useful phrase, thrilled that she seemed to hold no fear of him compared to the looks he was receiving from the outer circle of nobility that muttered and milled around them. Offering her a cup of the wine that was being passed, he lifted it as if in toast to her.
”It seems my lady you know exactly enough to get about."
His Greek was still rough, but it didn’t require Rafa’s translation just yet. He would only call for that when matters of state were being discussed, until then he wanted to let them know exactly how much he understood. He was about to ask to escort her on a turn about the room, a chance to speak to her without those standing about prying, perhaps glean some information about what she knew. If his studies were correct, she was the sister of the Queen who seemed as absent as the King that had called to meet him.
A shadow fell over his plans in the form of a man who looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place until he came closer. The last time he’d seen Vangelis of Kotas, they had both been covered in their fair share of blood and filth, battling for ages in a gridlock until they had been forced to call a truce. He was the only general who had given him such difficulty in a fight, and for that he gave a slight nod of respect to the man. He could appreciate skill in another.
”Your highness. I hardly recognize you without blood on your hands.”
Osorsen’s lip curled slightly as the prince placed a clearly possessive hand on Selene’s waist, guiding her away with little social skill so clearly keen to take her from his presence. Dark eyes bored into the back of the other general as he watched them go before he turned back to the girl’s uncle, switching his tongue to Coptic before returning to his cups and resigning himself to lack of entertainment for the time being.
”A pity to have her betrothed to such a man. I hear the kings of Colchis are rarely home, your niece may become lonely.”
Another voice pulled his attention and he found himself looking into the face of another blonde woman, this one less stunningly captivating than the last but with a spark in her eyes that held his attention. Her introduction as a cousin of the Stone Prince had his brow raising and he glanced at the retreating back of the Colchian man before returning to her as he inclined his head respectfully.
"Lady Imeeya, are you known to be as fierce as your cousin?"
Osorsen smiled at her excuse, utterly charmed already by her attempts to speak Coptic even as she switched back to Greek. Her accent had been different, but at least in her melodic voice it hadn’t been grating like some others. The general found a laugh deep in his chest as she offered her most useful phrase, thrilled that she seemed to hold no fear of him compared to the looks he was receiving from the outer circle of nobility that muttered and milled around them. Offering her a cup of the wine that was being passed, he lifted it as if in toast to her.
”It seems my lady you know exactly enough to get about."
His Greek was still rough, but it didn’t require Rafa’s translation just yet. He would only call for that when matters of state were being discussed, until then he wanted to let them know exactly how much he understood. He was about to ask to escort her on a turn about the room, a chance to speak to her without those standing about prying, perhaps glean some information about what she knew. If his studies were correct, she was the sister of the Queen who seemed as absent as the King that had called to meet him.
A shadow fell over his plans in the form of a man who looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place until he came closer. The last time he’d seen Vangelis of Kotas, they had both been covered in their fair share of blood and filth, battling for ages in a gridlock until they had been forced to call a truce. He was the only general who had given him such difficulty in a fight, and for that he gave a slight nod of respect to the man. He could appreciate skill in another.
”Your highness. I hardly recognize you without blood on your hands.”
Osorsen’s lip curled slightly as the prince placed a clearly possessive hand on Selene’s waist, guiding her away with little social skill so clearly keen to take her from his presence. Dark eyes bored into the back of the other general as he watched them go before he turned back to the girl’s uncle, switching his tongue to Coptic before returning to his cups and resigning himself to lack of entertainment for the time being.
”A pity to have her betrothed to such a man. I hear the kings of Colchis are rarely home, your niece may become lonely.”
Another voice pulled his attention and he found himself looking into the face of another blonde woman, this one less stunningly captivating than the last but with a spark in her eyes that held his attention. Her introduction as a cousin of the Stone Prince had his brow raising and he glanced at the retreating back of the Colchian man before returning to her as he inclined his head respectfully.
"Lady Imeeya, are you known to be as fierce as your cousin?"
He’d moved indoors along with the rest of them and had stationed himself out of the way, along one of the walls. His purpose in doing so was to observe the room and not engage. Most all of the courtiers here he knew, at least by face, if not by name, but there were precious few he wanted to speak to, and even fewer with which he actually had anything productive to talk about. This left him in his own company and not sorry for it. Lord Dimitrou was not alone long, however before Princess Xene made her way over to him. He bowed to her with a grave “Your highness,” before straightening back up.
They were then joined by Nikos of Condos. Nikos being the son of his friend, Gavriil inclined his head to the young lord with a monosyllabic greeting. Somehow, though he’d meant to be mostly alone, he was flanked on either side. He’d managed to spot his daughter, Dorothea for just a moment before the crowd hid her from view. But she was gone the next instant. She thought she was fooling him but he knew better.
She was not here to mingle and marry, as he hoped. He’d never force such a thing, of course. It was entirely her choice but as he looked back at what Lord Condos was saying, he had the fleeting idea of perhaps joining their two houses through such a marriage. However, he shoved the idea immediately aside. Condos was handsome and clever but that was all. Gavriil did not think that Dorothea would be happy as the man’s wife.
Suddenly Princess Gianna was upon them and he found himself bowing yet again with another small word of greeting. They were together for another few moments or two before the Egyptians finally entered and the whole atmosphere of the room changed. It was as though everyone lost their minds. He remained impenetrably grave as his companions left him, one by one.
This left him free to move and his intention was to get a little wine. Nimble and light on his feet, he easily navigated the room and picked up his cup, lifting it to his lips for a moment. That was when his gaze fell on Evangeline Leventi and the trouble with the bard she was having. Gavriil appreciated music but he did not appreciate the lifestyle that most bards tended to have. Which meant that, if Evangeline’s reaction was anything to go on, she wasn’t enjoying it either. From this distance, she should have been within earshot, but the room was too crowded and there were too many voices.
Shouldering his way through, he was in time to hear part of her exchange with Nikos of Condos. Gavriil turned around, the smallest of smiles playing around the corners of his mouth. Clearly she did not need rescued. He was about to walk back to his place along the wall when he was suddenly smacked into. His wine sloshed onto the floor, but thankfully not himself.
Turning, he found Evangelina to have been the one to knock into him. “Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?” His sole intention was to lead the poor girl away from both Condos and the bard, and turn her loose elsewhere. Preferably around her uncle or aunt.
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He’d moved indoors along with the rest of them and had stationed himself out of the way, along one of the walls. His purpose in doing so was to observe the room and not engage. Most all of the courtiers here he knew, at least by face, if not by name, but there were precious few he wanted to speak to, and even fewer with which he actually had anything productive to talk about. This left him in his own company and not sorry for it. Lord Dimitrou was not alone long, however before Princess Xene made her way over to him. He bowed to her with a grave “Your highness,” before straightening back up.
They were then joined by Nikos of Condos. Nikos being the son of his friend, Gavriil inclined his head to the young lord with a monosyllabic greeting. Somehow, though he’d meant to be mostly alone, he was flanked on either side. He’d managed to spot his daughter, Dorothea for just a moment before the crowd hid her from view. But she was gone the next instant. She thought she was fooling him but he knew better.
She was not here to mingle and marry, as he hoped. He’d never force such a thing, of course. It was entirely her choice but as he looked back at what Lord Condos was saying, he had the fleeting idea of perhaps joining their two houses through such a marriage. However, he shoved the idea immediately aside. Condos was handsome and clever but that was all. Gavriil did not think that Dorothea would be happy as the man’s wife.
Suddenly Princess Gianna was upon them and he found himself bowing yet again with another small word of greeting. They were together for another few moments or two before the Egyptians finally entered and the whole atmosphere of the room changed. It was as though everyone lost their minds. He remained impenetrably grave as his companions left him, one by one.
This left him free to move and his intention was to get a little wine. Nimble and light on his feet, he easily navigated the room and picked up his cup, lifting it to his lips for a moment. That was when his gaze fell on Evangeline Leventi and the trouble with the bard she was having. Gavriil appreciated music but he did not appreciate the lifestyle that most bards tended to have. Which meant that, if Evangeline’s reaction was anything to go on, she wasn’t enjoying it either. From this distance, she should have been within earshot, but the room was too crowded and there were too many voices.
Shouldering his way through, he was in time to hear part of her exchange with Nikos of Condos. Gavriil turned around, the smallest of smiles playing around the corners of his mouth. Clearly she did not need rescued. He was about to walk back to his place along the wall when he was suddenly smacked into. His wine sloshed onto the floor, but thankfully not himself.
Turning, he found Evangelina to have been the one to knock into him. “Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?” His sole intention was to lead the poor girl away from both Condos and the bard, and turn her loose elsewhere. Preferably around her uncle or aunt.
He’d moved indoors along with the rest of them and had stationed himself out of the way, along one of the walls. His purpose in doing so was to observe the room and not engage. Most all of the courtiers here he knew, at least by face, if not by name, but there were precious few he wanted to speak to, and even fewer with which he actually had anything productive to talk about. This left him in his own company and not sorry for it. Lord Dimitrou was not alone long, however before Princess Xene made her way over to him. He bowed to her with a grave “Your highness,” before straightening back up.
They were then joined by Nikos of Condos. Nikos being the son of his friend, Gavriil inclined his head to the young lord with a monosyllabic greeting. Somehow, though he’d meant to be mostly alone, he was flanked on either side. He’d managed to spot his daughter, Dorothea for just a moment before the crowd hid her from view. But she was gone the next instant. She thought she was fooling him but he knew better.
She was not here to mingle and marry, as he hoped. He’d never force such a thing, of course. It was entirely her choice but as he looked back at what Lord Condos was saying, he had the fleeting idea of perhaps joining their two houses through such a marriage. However, he shoved the idea immediately aside. Condos was handsome and clever but that was all. Gavriil did not think that Dorothea would be happy as the man’s wife.
Suddenly Princess Gianna was upon them and he found himself bowing yet again with another small word of greeting. They were together for another few moments or two before the Egyptians finally entered and the whole atmosphere of the room changed. It was as though everyone lost their minds. He remained impenetrably grave as his companions left him, one by one.
This left him free to move and his intention was to get a little wine. Nimble and light on his feet, he easily navigated the room and picked up his cup, lifting it to his lips for a moment. That was when his gaze fell on Evangeline Leventi and the trouble with the bard she was having. Gavriil appreciated music but he did not appreciate the lifestyle that most bards tended to have. Which meant that, if Evangeline’s reaction was anything to go on, she wasn’t enjoying it either. From this distance, she should have been within earshot, but the room was too crowded and there were too many voices.
Shouldering his way through, he was in time to hear part of her exchange with Nikos of Condos. Gavriil turned around, the smallest of smiles playing around the corners of his mouth. Clearly she did not need rescued. He was about to walk back to his place along the wall when he was suddenly smacked into. His wine sloshed onto the floor, but thankfully not himself.
Turning, he found Evangelina to have been the one to knock into him. “Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?” His sole intention was to lead the poor girl away from both Condos and the bard, and turn her loose elsewhere. Preferably around her uncle or aunt.
On Georgios's arm, Evelli greeted the nobles and royals as they strolled, making conversation with those she had not see in awhile and catching up with those she had. She was often known as a lady who threw impeccable parties, and while many knew of the hidden designs behind the parties, for she did have five daughters to marry off, people usually came anyhow, if for the revelry and music, even if they do not wish to be snared in a marriage trap. As such, Evelli had many of who she was on good terms with, and it was these people which the Leventi matriarch conversed with as they traversed the length of the ballroom, a smile permanently etched on her face.
Yet, a mother she was still, and she kept the corner of her eye perked for her girls as she would. The knowledge that Olympia was nearby, but unattainable to her, frustrated her, but she would visit her girl soon. To do so now would be impossible, not when all eyes were in the room and risking Georgios's position, while she would want to do for Olympia, would not be well for the remaining four girls she had.
Checking that Nana was indeed with Basilides, a small smile touched her face as she saw the Lady Dorothea had joined them. The daughter of Dimitrou was a fine role model, and Nana could do well to learn from Dorothea's calmer, more easy nature, and Evelli hoped it would do her good should she befriend the girl. Turning over her shoulder to check on Imma, her eyes were caught when she spied her daughter conversing with the Egyptian delegate, and a cat-like smile found its way to her lips. Next to her, she could feel Georgios stiffen, but Evelli was quick to tighten her own hand over his arm, a silent warning for her husband. "Do not interfere, our daughter is grown. You told me you wanted her to pick her own husband, did you not?" she murmured.
But what surprised Evelli however, was that the Colchian crown prince actually drew nearer, and Evelli frowned as her eldest was whisked away by the questionable prince of Colchis. Georgios whispered if he should follow, but before Evelli could respond, the two found themselves caught up in conversations with other nobles yet again, and by the time Evelli could extricate herself, Selene was no longer within her sight. Her husband was clearly agitated, but Evelli... well, let's just say she's had thirty years worth of shepharding her girls, at some point, she's got to let go.
"Do not fuss, Selene would not enjoy it. Trust her judgement." Did Evelli? Well, she couldn't say she did. But there was too much furor within the palati tonight, that she was hoping if her daughter would get caught, it would not cause much of a scandal, nothing that would eclipse the scandal that was her son-in-law in house arrest above in this period of time.
Of course, a part of her hoped that a scandal would hurry them down the aisle, but Evelli always dreamed big.
Spying her niece as they waded their way further in the area, she thanked Georgios as he handed her a wine glass, sipping the fine red liquid, she watched how Imma approached Evangelina, and then frowned when she saw Nikos drawing away from them. What good would that do to bring the two girls away from a perfectly fine gentleman who would be a good candidate for marriage?
Murmuring her excuses to Georgios and whoever they were speaking to, Evelli wound her way through the crowd, and then smiled as she approached Imma and Evangelina. It would appear however, that the Dimitrou lord had managed to get to them first. To him, Evelli gave a respectful curtsy that was shallower then what she'd offer to a royal, but good for his position nonetheless. It was a smile that she gave him as she flicked her gaze over at her daughter and niece, noting the slightly unsettled look in Evangelina's eyes. "Apologies if my girls have been disturbing, my lord." the Leventi matriarch's voice was gentle and friendly as she flicked a slightly warning gaze over to the two girls, "Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?" Flickering her hazel gaze up at the dissapearing back of the Condos young lord, Evelli then turned to Imma, a question in her gaze."Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?"
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On Georgios's arm, Evelli greeted the nobles and royals as they strolled, making conversation with those she had not see in awhile and catching up with those she had. She was often known as a lady who threw impeccable parties, and while many knew of the hidden designs behind the parties, for she did have five daughters to marry off, people usually came anyhow, if for the revelry and music, even if they do not wish to be snared in a marriage trap. As such, Evelli had many of who she was on good terms with, and it was these people which the Leventi matriarch conversed with as they traversed the length of the ballroom, a smile permanently etched on her face.
Yet, a mother she was still, and she kept the corner of her eye perked for her girls as she would. The knowledge that Olympia was nearby, but unattainable to her, frustrated her, but she would visit her girl soon. To do so now would be impossible, not when all eyes were in the room and risking Georgios's position, while she would want to do for Olympia, would not be well for the remaining four girls she had.
Checking that Nana was indeed with Basilides, a small smile touched her face as she saw the Lady Dorothea had joined them. The daughter of Dimitrou was a fine role model, and Nana could do well to learn from Dorothea's calmer, more easy nature, and Evelli hoped it would do her good should she befriend the girl. Turning over her shoulder to check on Imma, her eyes were caught when she spied her daughter conversing with the Egyptian delegate, and a cat-like smile found its way to her lips. Next to her, she could feel Georgios stiffen, but Evelli was quick to tighten her own hand over his arm, a silent warning for her husband. "Do not interfere, our daughter is grown. You told me you wanted her to pick her own husband, did you not?" she murmured.
But what surprised Evelli however, was that the Colchian crown prince actually drew nearer, and Evelli frowned as her eldest was whisked away by the questionable prince of Colchis. Georgios whispered if he should follow, but before Evelli could respond, the two found themselves caught up in conversations with other nobles yet again, and by the time Evelli could extricate herself, Selene was no longer within her sight. Her husband was clearly agitated, but Evelli... well, let's just say she's had thirty years worth of shepharding her girls, at some point, she's got to let go.
"Do not fuss, Selene would not enjoy it. Trust her judgement." Did Evelli? Well, she couldn't say she did. But there was too much furor within the palati tonight, that she was hoping if her daughter would get caught, it would not cause much of a scandal, nothing that would eclipse the scandal that was her son-in-law in house arrest above in this period of time.
Of course, a part of her hoped that a scandal would hurry them down the aisle, but Evelli always dreamed big.
Spying her niece as they waded their way further in the area, she thanked Georgios as he handed her a wine glass, sipping the fine red liquid, she watched how Imma approached Evangelina, and then frowned when she saw Nikos drawing away from them. What good would that do to bring the two girls away from a perfectly fine gentleman who would be a good candidate for marriage?
Murmuring her excuses to Georgios and whoever they were speaking to, Evelli wound her way through the crowd, and then smiled as she approached Imma and Evangelina. It would appear however, that the Dimitrou lord had managed to get to them first. To him, Evelli gave a respectful curtsy that was shallower then what she'd offer to a royal, but good for his position nonetheless. It was a smile that she gave him as she flicked her gaze over at her daughter and niece, noting the slightly unsettled look in Evangelina's eyes. "Apologies if my girls have been disturbing, my lord." the Leventi matriarch's voice was gentle and friendly as she flicked a slightly warning gaze over to the two girls, "Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?" Flickering her hazel gaze up at the dissapearing back of the Condos young lord, Evelli then turned to Imma, a question in her gaze."Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?"
On Georgios's arm, Evelli greeted the nobles and royals as they strolled, making conversation with those she had not see in awhile and catching up with those she had. She was often known as a lady who threw impeccable parties, and while many knew of the hidden designs behind the parties, for she did have five daughters to marry off, people usually came anyhow, if for the revelry and music, even if they do not wish to be snared in a marriage trap. As such, Evelli had many of who she was on good terms with, and it was these people which the Leventi matriarch conversed with as they traversed the length of the ballroom, a smile permanently etched on her face.
Yet, a mother she was still, and she kept the corner of her eye perked for her girls as she would. The knowledge that Olympia was nearby, but unattainable to her, frustrated her, but she would visit her girl soon. To do so now would be impossible, not when all eyes were in the room and risking Georgios's position, while she would want to do for Olympia, would not be well for the remaining four girls she had.
Checking that Nana was indeed with Basilides, a small smile touched her face as she saw the Lady Dorothea had joined them. The daughter of Dimitrou was a fine role model, and Nana could do well to learn from Dorothea's calmer, more easy nature, and Evelli hoped it would do her good should she befriend the girl. Turning over her shoulder to check on Imma, her eyes were caught when she spied her daughter conversing with the Egyptian delegate, and a cat-like smile found its way to her lips. Next to her, she could feel Georgios stiffen, but Evelli was quick to tighten her own hand over his arm, a silent warning for her husband. "Do not interfere, our daughter is grown. You told me you wanted her to pick her own husband, did you not?" she murmured.
But what surprised Evelli however, was that the Colchian crown prince actually drew nearer, and Evelli frowned as her eldest was whisked away by the questionable prince of Colchis. Georgios whispered if he should follow, but before Evelli could respond, the two found themselves caught up in conversations with other nobles yet again, and by the time Evelli could extricate herself, Selene was no longer within her sight. Her husband was clearly agitated, but Evelli... well, let's just say she's had thirty years worth of shepharding her girls, at some point, she's got to let go.
"Do not fuss, Selene would not enjoy it. Trust her judgement." Did Evelli? Well, she couldn't say she did. But there was too much furor within the palati tonight, that she was hoping if her daughter would get caught, it would not cause much of a scandal, nothing that would eclipse the scandal that was her son-in-law in house arrest above in this period of time.
Of course, a part of her hoped that a scandal would hurry them down the aisle, but Evelli always dreamed big.
Spying her niece as they waded their way further in the area, she thanked Georgios as he handed her a wine glass, sipping the fine red liquid, she watched how Imma approached Evangelina, and then frowned when she saw Nikos drawing away from them. What good would that do to bring the two girls away from a perfectly fine gentleman who would be a good candidate for marriage?
Murmuring her excuses to Georgios and whoever they were speaking to, Evelli wound her way through the crowd, and then smiled as she approached Imma and Evangelina. It would appear however, that the Dimitrou lord had managed to get to them first. To him, Evelli gave a respectful curtsy that was shallower then what she'd offer to a royal, but good for his position nonetheless. It was a smile that she gave him as she flicked her gaze over at her daughter and niece, noting the slightly unsettled look in Evangelina's eyes. "Apologies if my girls have been disturbing, my lord." the Leventi matriarch's voice was gentle and friendly as she flicked a slightly warning gaze over to the two girls, "Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?" Flickering her hazel gaze up at the dissapearing back of the Condos young lord, Evelli then turned to Imma, a question in her gaze."Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?"
Behind his crown prince, Magnus's presence was simultaneously there, but blended easily into the crowd. It was why he excelled at his job, and why he had attained the title of Master Informer even at a young age, or younger then the rest of the council of advisors in Colchis, anyhow. He knew Vangelis did not necessarily require him to be by his side, but it was where Magnus remained, although his eyes roamed. Like a habit, he picked out people, attached names to faces, and the stories that came with the names. From who they slept with, family histories, it all came tumbling into his mind like a folder unlocked, and Magnus stood ready to furnish Vangelis with information should the crown prince require it.
As observant as the spymaster was however, his information from Egypt was limited. With the strained tension between the kingdoms, finding willing informants within that kingdom had been difficult, as much as Magnus tried. With only one or two within Egypt and Judea, and none at all in Bedoa regardless of how hard he tried, Magnus growled in irritation as he observed the motions of the Egyptian delegate.
But what surprised the man, was when Vangelis moved away from himself and Imeeya without a word of warning. Picking up his paces, Magnus quickly trailed after the prince as he stepped up next to Selene, and resisted his jaw dropping when he clearly made a veiled comment that was outright rejecting the Egyptian general's interest in their Grecian lady.
Was he wishing to start another war? From what Magnus knew, the Sirdar Moghadam was not a patient men, and Magnus strongly suggested against such antagonizing words, but it was neither the time nor the place to mention such warning words to his crown prince. Then again, he had hoped, and thought, that Vangelis would have more tact then that.
Blinking in surprise as Vangelis moved away with the lady, Magnus frowned when the prince instructed him to remain with Imeeya, only to whip his head around when the Drakos young lady made her own introductions, something which had Magnus resisting the urge to bury his head in his palms. Was he surrounded by foolhardy people of royal blood tonight? While Imeeya's introduction was faultless as expected, for the Drakos ladies were well trained in political manners, it did not change the fact that a lady did not put themselves out there in front of a man without prior introduction, least of all when they stood in audience to a Leventi Head of House as well.
Hurriedly stepping up the moment Imeeya finished her words, Magnus bowed deeply from his waist, his smile smooth and polite as he placed a hand over where his heart would be, straightening up before he spoke. "A pleasant evening, Sirdar Moghadam. We have been excited to host you within our lands." Magnus's coptic was perfect, slightly accented, but with no hesitation when he spoke. With extensive knowledge in languages, the man made it a point to practice whenever he exchanged missives with his few men in Egypt and Judea, for he understood that speaking someone's mother tongue would get them to loosen their tongues infinitely, and made his job much easier.
As such, Magnus had put in the homework when he was younger, and it now paid off in his speech. "Have you heard of any particular provinces you would like to visit? I may not be native of the lands myself, but I have heard that Taengea's lands are as if they are blessed by Gaea herself. It would be a pity if the Sirdar were to travel such distances, if he did not see any that Taengea has to offer, would it not be, my Lord Fotios?" Magnus easily swapped his gaze to greet the Taengean former Master Informer with an easy, slightly smaller tilt of his head. They had one common goal tonight - to ensure that they were hospitable to an Egyptian delegate who, not too long ago, had been a Grecian enemy.
They just had to make sure they do not poke the bear.
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Behind his crown prince, Magnus's presence was simultaneously there, but blended easily into the crowd. It was why he excelled at his job, and why he had attained the title of Master Informer even at a young age, or younger then the rest of the council of advisors in Colchis, anyhow. He knew Vangelis did not necessarily require him to be by his side, but it was where Magnus remained, although his eyes roamed. Like a habit, he picked out people, attached names to faces, and the stories that came with the names. From who they slept with, family histories, it all came tumbling into his mind like a folder unlocked, and Magnus stood ready to furnish Vangelis with information should the crown prince require it.
As observant as the spymaster was however, his information from Egypt was limited. With the strained tension between the kingdoms, finding willing informants within that kingdom had been difficult, as much as Magnus tried. With only one or two within Egypt and Judea, and none at all in Bedoa regardless of how hard he tried, Magnus growled in irritation as he observed the motions of the Egyptian delegate.
But what surprised the man, was when Vangelis moved away from himself and Imeeya without a word of warning. Picking up his paces, Magnus quickly trailed after the prince as he stepped up next to Selene, and resisted his jaw dropping when he clearly made a veiled comment that was outright rejecting the Egyptian general's interest in their Grecian lady.
Was he wishing to start another war? From what Magnus knew, the Sirdar Moghadam was not a patient men, and Magnus strongly suggested against such antagonizing words, but it was neither the time nor the place to mention such warning words to his crown prince. Then again, he had hoped, and thought, that Vangelis would have more tact then that.
Blinking in surprise as Vangelis moved away with the lady, Magnus frowned when the prince instructed him to remain with Imeeya, only to whip his head around when the Drakos young lady made her own introductions, something which had Magnus resisting the urge to bury his head in his palms. Was he surrounded by foolhardy people of royal blood tonight? While Imeeya's introduction was faultless as expected, for the Drakos ladies were well trained in political manners, it did not change the fact that a lady did not put themselves out there in front of a man without prior introduction, least of all when they stood in audience to a Leventi Head of House as well.
Hurriedly stepping up the moment Imeeya finished her words, Magnus bowed deeply from his waist, his smile smooth and polite as he placed a hand over where his heart would be, straightening up before he spoke. "A pleasant evening, Sirdar Moghadam. We have been excited to host you within our lands." Magnus's coptic was perfect, slightly accented, but with no hesitation when he spoke. With extensive knowledge in languages, the man made it a point to practice whenever he exchanged missives with his few men in Egypt and Judea, for he understood that speaking someone's mother tongue would get them to loosen their tongues infinitely, and made his job much easier.
As such, Magnus had put in the homework when he was younger, and it now paid off in his speech. "Have you heard of any particular provinces you would like to visit? I may not be native of the lands myself, but I have heard that Taengea's lands are as if they are blessed by Gaea herself. It would be a pity if the Sirdar were to travel such distances, if he did not see any that Taengea has to offer, would it not be, my Lord Fotios?" Magnus easily swapped his gaze to greet the Taengean former Master Informer with an easy, slightly smaller tilt of his head. They had one common goal tonight - to ensure that they were hospitable to an Egyptian delegate who, not too long ago, had been a Grecian enemy.
They just had to make sure they do not poke the bear.
Behind his crown prince, Magnus's presence was simultaneously there, but blended easily into the crowd. It was why he excelled at his job, and why he had attained the title of Master Informer even at a young age, or younger then the rest of the council of advisors in Colchis, anyhow. He knew Vangelis did not necessarily require him to be by his side, but it was where Magnus remained, although his eyes roamed. Like a habit, he picked out people, attached names to faces, and the stories that came with the names. From who they slept with, family histories, it all came tumbling into his mind like a folder unlocked, and Magnus stood ready to furnish Vangelis with information should the crown prince require it.
As observant as the spymaster was however, his information from Egypt was limited. With the strained tension between the kingdoms, finding willing informants within that kingdom had been difficult, as much as Magnus tried. With only one or two within Egypt and Judea, and none at all in Bedoa regardless of how hard he tried, Magnus growled in irritation as he observed the motions of the Egyptian delegate.
But what surprised the man, was when Vangelis moved away from himself and Imeeya without a word of warning. Picking up his paces, Magnus quickly trailed after the prince as he stepped up next to Selene, and resisted his jaw dropping when he clearly made a veiled comment that was outright rejecting the Egyptian general's interest in their Grecian lady.
Was he wishing to start another war? From what Magnus knew, the Sirdar Moghadam was not a patient men, and Magnus strongly suggested against such antagonizing words, but it was neither the time nor the place to mention such warning words to his crown prince. Then again, he had hoped, and thought, that Vangelis would have more tact then that.
Blinking in surprise as Vangelis moved away with the lady, Magnus frowned when the prince instructed him to remain with Imeeya, only to whip his head around when the Drakos young lady made her own introductions, something which had Magnus resisting the urge to bury his head in his palms. Was he surrounded by foolhardy people of royal blood tonight? While Imeeya's introduction was faultless as expected, for the Drakos ladies were well trained in political manners, it did not change the fact that a lady did not put themselves out there in front of a man without prior introduction, least of all when they stood in audience to a Leventi Head of House as well.
Hurriedly stepping up the moment Imeeya finished her words, Magnus bowed deeply from his waist, his smile smooth and polite as he placed a hand over where his heart would be, straightening up before he spoke. "A pleasant evening, Sirdar Moghadam. We have been excited to host you within our lands." Magnus's coptic was perfect, slightly accented, but with no hesitation when he spoke. With extensive knowledge in languages, the man made it a point to practice whenever he exchanged missives with his few men in Egypt and Judea, for he understood that speaking someone's mother tongue would get them to loosen their tongues infinitely, and made his job much easier.
As such, Magnus had put in the homework when he was younger, and it now paid off in his speech. "Have you heard of any particular provinces you would like to visit? I may not be native of the lands myself, but I have heard that Taengea's lands are as if they are blessed by Gaea herself. It would be a pity if the Sirdar were to travel such distances, if he did not see any that Taengea has to offer, would it not be, my Lord Fotios?" Magnus easily swapped his gaze to greet the Taengean former Master Informer with an easy, slightly smaller tilt of his head. They had one common goal tonight - to ensure that they were hospitable to an Egyptian delegate who, not too long ago, had been a Grecian enemy.
They just had to make sure they do not poke the bear.
That graze of Niko’s fingers across her skin as she withdrew, burned her. He knew it. He knew she knew it. And, he knew she knew he knew it. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? He’d had his fun with her. Not as much fun as he would have liked, but life wasn’t fair. Girlish dreams had been pinned on him. A crush. An infatuation. She’d been putty in his hands. Maybe putty wasn’t the right word. She’d been a toy. A toy he wanted because he couldn’t have it and then when he did he’d tossed it aside, and whenever it pleased him he slithered out from under his rock to remind her that she was just a toy.
It was only fair that he return her barbs, she could forgive that. This time though, he was below the belt.
‘It seems I must extend my apologies to you once again, Lady Evangelina. It was thoughtless of me to forget how you've exposed yourself to all House Condos has to offer on so many occasions that it's only natural for you to have built up an immunity or two.’
Her heart dropped to her stomach and for the length of just one beat of her heartbeat, there was a flicker of pain at his words. If they’d not been in a crowd, her hand would have flown to his face so fast. As it was, her fingers twitched and her nails itched to claw at his face. The others in this room might be fooled with his suave looks and cheerful charm but he could not fool her Not anymore. She knew the morally reprehensible person he was… The man was impossible. So arrogant and he wasn’t even a short hair on Poseidon's balls.
It was Imma’s voice that reminded her of where she was, darting a look at her youngest cousin. Sweet Imma! Gods but she was looking more like Selene every day. So grown up! Had she heard Niko’s comment? Sweeping her lashes up to look back at Nikos, she noted his interest and raised an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t have been much older than Imma when Nikos had made her love him. Poseidon, get me out of here…
Imma spoke, asking for Evangelina to accompany her. The last thing Evie wanted was to meander from group to group discussing whatever gossip was going around of late and lately that seemed to be talks of the King and Queen. The room was quickly narrowing in on her. People were moving closer to hear what was being said… or… whatever reason they wanted too.
“I…” She began, only to be interrupted by Nikos saying that he wouldn’t keep Evangelina from Imma and with that he’d started to slither away but not before tossing a carefree wink at her. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Augggggghhhhhh.... There was a tremble that seemed to ricochet through her, it was starting out small but she knew it was only a matter of time before she erupted.
“I…” Her words weren’t working very well this evening. All the poise and grace she’d managed to achieve the last few months seemed to have abandoned her. If you don’t use it, you lose it.
'Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?'
It came from the body she’d knocked into, looking up she was momentarily shocked by the grounding effect Lord Dimitrou seemed to give her. She didn’t know him well. Her father knew him better, but she supposed that might be because they were from the same generation. There wasn’t a point of lying to herself. He’d always scared her a little, maybe it was his quiet formidably. Or the brash, to the point way he spoke. That wasn’t something common in the Leventi household. Words were so often twisted with different meanings, you had to carefully pick out what was actually being said between honeyed thorns. She’d never seen Lord Gavriil do that.
With no idea what possessed her, she answered him quickly, bluntly, almost desperately. “Yes.” Could he see that she there was a small quivering tremble in her. Gods, she needed some air. Her dark, doe eyes sent a silent plea for him to get her out of there. She didn’t care where she went but she needed air… she needed space… and mostly she needed a few moments of quiet.
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the sound of her aunt’s voice caused her to stiffen. Aunt Evelli didn’t miss much.
‘Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?’ Evangelina bit her bottom lip and followed her aunt’s gaze to Nikos. Not particularly. Evie had to catch herself from petulantly mumbling the words out. ‘Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?’ There was more than a simple question there and she didn’t feel like answering it. Damned bat didn't miss much... For the briefest of moments, the thought flickered through her mind of feigning a faint. It might have worked but it hadn’t been that long since she’d last used it upon her aunt.
Entirely avoiding answering the question about Nikos, she had absolutely no intention of discussing the man with her aunt or anyone else right now, even if it did exasperate her aunt. Refusing to let Lord Gavriil fade back after she’d been able to find the tiniest bit of quiet relief around him, she latched onto him. You aren’t getting away that easily… you offered… I accepted… we are going for some air.
“I… need some air.” It wasn’t exactly, the brightest thing that had ever come out of Evangelina’s mouth… it was too honest, too…. To the point for a Leventi. It didn’t gild the lily any. So she quickly followed up with a bit more, “Please, excuse me for a few moments… I am still a bit shaken up after my tumble and Lord Gavriil has kindly offered to escort me outside long enough to find my composure.”
Glancing to the bard who’d stood there quietly for a few moments, probably not entirely sure what to make of the upper classes mingling. “I was going to ask this talented man, if he might play some of Pia’s favorites… but since you two are here now… you will think of some that I would have no doubt forgotten.”
The pint-sized Leventi had found an anchor, even a momentarily anchor in a rather unexpected person. Lifting her eyes up to the taller Dimitrou, “Lead the way, my lord. How is your family?” It was small talk and she hated it, but her eagle-eyed aunt was no doubt focused in on what she could be saying to Lord Gavriil and silence would seem odd. She continued with, “Your son has some rather nice horses, I hear…”
Once out of earshot, her grip loosened to just a limp hold and a whoosh of air escaped her. Feeling tired and older than her mere twenty-one years, she exhaled a throaty, “Thank you, my lord.”
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That graze of Niko’s fingers across her skin as she withdrew, burned her. He knew it. He knew she knew it. And, he knew she knew he knew it. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? He’d had his fun with her. Not as much fun as he would have liked, but life wasn’t fair. Girlish dreams had been pinned on him. A crush. An infatuation. She’d been putty in his hands. Maybe putty wasn’t the right word. She’d been a toy. A toy he wanted because he couldn’t have it and then when he did he’d tossed it aside, and whenever it pleased him he slithered out from under his rock to remind her that she was just a toy.
It was only fair that he return her barbs, she could forgive that. This time though, he was below the belt.
‘It seems I must extend my apologies to you once again, Lady Evangelina. It was thoughtless of me to forget how you've exposed yourself to all House Condos has to offer on so many occasions that it's only natural for you to have built up an immunity or two.’
Her heart dropped to her stomach and for the length of just one beat of her heartbeat, there was a flicker of pain at his words. If they’d not been in a crowd, her hand would have flown to his face so fast. As it was, her fingers twitched and her nails itched to claw at his face. The others in this room might be fooled with his suave looks and cheerful charm but he could not fool her Not anymore. She knew the morally reprehensible person he was… The man was impossible. So arrogant and he wasn’t even a short hair on Poseidon's balls.
It was Imma’s voice that reminded her of where she was, darting a look at her youngest cousin. Sweet Imma! Gods but she was looking more like Selene every day. So grown up! Had she heard Niko’s comment? Sweeping her lashes up to look back at Nikos, she noted his interest and raised an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t have been much older than Imma when Nikos had made her love him. Poseidon, get me out of here…
Imma spoke, asking for Evangelina to accompany her. The last thing Evie wanted was to meander from group to group discussing whatever gossip was going around of late and lately that seemed to be talks of the King and Queen. The room was quickly narrowing in on her. People were moving closer to hear what was being said… or… whatever reason they wanted too.
“I…” She began, only to be interrupted by Nikos saying that he wouldn’t keep Evangelina from Imma and with that he’d started to slither away but not before tossing a carefree wink at her. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Augggggghhhhhh.... There was a tremble that seemed to ricochet through her, it was starting out small but she knew it was only a matter of time before she erupted.
“I…” Her words weren’t working very well this evening. All the poise and grace she’d managed to achieve the last few months seemed to have abandoned her. If you don’t use it, you lose it.
'Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?'
It came from the body she’d knocked into, looking up she was momentarily shocked by the grounding effect Lord Dimitrou seemed to give her. She didn’t know him well. Her father knew him better, but she supposed that might be because they were from the same generation. There wasn’t a point of lying to herself. He’d always scared her a little, maybe it was his quiet formidably. Or the brash, to the point way he spoke. That wasn’t something common in the Leventi household. Words were so often twisted with different meanings, you had to carefully pick out what was actually being said between honeyed thorns. She’d never seen Lord Gavriil do that.
With no idea what possessed her, she answered him quickly, bluntly, almost desperately. “Yes.” Could he see that she there was a small quivering tremble in her. Gods, she needed some air. Her dark, doe eyes sent a silent plea for him to get her out of there. She didn’t care where she went but she needed air… she needed space… and mostly she needed a few moments of quiet.
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the sound of her aunt’s voice caused her to stiffen. Aunt Evelli didn’t miss much.
‘Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?’ Evangelina bit her bottom lip and followed her aunt’s gaze to Nikos. Not particularly. Evie had to catch herself from petulantly mumbling the words out. ‘Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?’ There was more than a simple question there and she didn’t feel like answering it. Damned bat didn't miss much... For the briefest of moments, the thought flickered through her mind of feigning a faint. It might have worked but it hadn’t been that long since she’d last used it upon her aunt.
Entirely avoiding answering the question about Nikos, she had absolutely no intention of discussing the man with her aunt or anyone else right now, even if it did exasperate her aunt. Refusing to let Lord Gavriil fade back after she’d been able to find the tiniest bit of quiet relief around him, she latched onto him. You aren’t getting away that easily… you offered… I accepted… we are going for some air.
“I… need some air.” It wasn’t exactly, the brightest thing that had ever come out of Evangelina’s mouth… it was too honest, too…. To the point for a Leventi. It didn’t gild the lily any. So she quickly followed up with a bit more, “Please, excuse me for a few moments… I am still a bit shaken up after my tumble and Lord Gavriil has kindly offered to escort me outside long enough to find my composure.”
Glancing to the bard who’d stood there quietly for a few moments, probably not entirely sure what to make of the upper classes mingling. “I was going to ask this talented man, if he might play some of Pia’s favorites… but since you two are here now… you will think of some that I would have no doubt forgotten.”
The pint-sized Leventi had found an anchor, even a momentarily anchor in a rather unexpected person. Lifting her eyes up to the taller Dimitrou, “Lead the way, my lord. How is your family?” It was small talk and she hated it, but her eagle-eyed aunt was no doubt focused in on what she could be saying to Lord Gavriil and silence would seem odd. She continued with, “Your son has some rather nice horses, I hear…”
Once out of earshot, her grip loosened to just a limp hold and a whoosh of air escaped her. Feeling tired and older than her mere twenty-one years, she exhaled a throaty, “Thank you, my lord.”
That graze of Niko’s fingers across her skin as she withdrew, burned her. He knew it. He knew she knew it. And, he knew she knew he knew it. Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? He’d had his fun with her. Not as much fun as he would have liked, but life wasn’t fair. Girlish dreams had been pinned on him. A crush. An infatuation. She’d been putty in his hands. Maybe putty wasn’t the right word. She’d been a toy. A toy he wanted because he couldn’t have it and then when he did he’d tossed it aside, and whenever it pleased him he slithered out from under his rock to remind her that she was just a toy.
It was only fair that he return her barbs, she could forgive that. This time though, he was below the belt.
‘It seems I must extend my apologies to you once again, Lady Evangelina. It was thoughtless of me to forget how you've exposed yourself to all House Condos has to offer on so many occasions that it's only natural for you to have built up an immunity or two.’
Her heart dropped to her stomach and for the length of just one beat of her heartbeat, there was a flicker of pain at his words. If they’d not been in a crowd, her hand would have flown to his face so fast. As it was, her fingers twitched and her nails itched to claw at his face. The others in this room might be fooled with his suave looks and cheerful charm but he could not fool her Not anymore. She knew the morally reprehensible person he was… The man was impossible. So arrogant and he wasn’t even a short hair on Poseidon's balls.
It was Imma’s voice that reminded her of where she was, darting a look at her youngest cousin. Sweet Imma! Gods but she was looking more like Selene every day. So grown up! Had she heard Niko’s comment? Sweeping her lashes up to look back at Nikos, she noted his interest and raised an eyebrow at him. She couldn’t have been much older than Imma when Nikos had made her love him. Poseidon, get me out of here…
Imma spoke, asking for Evangelina to accompany her. The last thing Evie wanted was to meander from group to group discussing whatever gossip was going around of late and lately that seemed to be talks of the King and Queen. The room was quickly narrowing in on her. People were moving closer to hear what was being said… or… whatever reason they wanted too.
“I…” She began, only to be interrupted by Nikos saying that he wouldn’t keep Evangelina from Imma and with that he’d started to slither away but not before tossing a carefree wink at her. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Augggggghhhhhh.... There was a tremble that seemed to ricochet through her, it was starting out small but she knew it was only a matter of time before she erupted.
“I…” Her words weren’t working very well this evening. All the poise and grace she’d managed to achieve the last few months seemed to have abandoned her. If you don’t use it, you lose it.
'Lady Evangelina, perhaps you’d care for some air?'
It came from the body she’d knocked into, looking up she was momentarily shocked by the grounding effect Lord Dimitrou seemed to give her. She didn’t know him well. Her father knew him better, but she supposed that might be because they were from the same generation. There wasn’t a point of lying to herself. He’d always scared her a little, maybe it was his quiet formidably. Or the brash, to the point way he spoke. That wasn’t something common in the Leventi household. Words were so often twisted with different meanings, you had to carefully pick out what was actually being said between honeyed thorns. She’d never seen Lord Gavriil do that.
With no idea what possessed her, she answered him quickly, bluntly, almost desperately. “Yes.” Could he see that she there was a small quivering tremble in her. Gods, she needed some air. Her dark, doe eyes sent a silent plea for him to get her out of there. She didn’t care where she went but she needed air… she needed space… and mostly she needed a few moments of quiet.
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the sound of her aunt’s voice caused her to stiffen. Aunt Evelli didn’t miss much.
‘Are you enjoying yourselves, you two?’ Evangelina bit her bottom lip and followed her aunt’s gaze to Nikos. Not particularly. Evie had to catch herself from petulantly mumbling the words out. ‘Was there a reason why Lord Nikos would be leaving you two?’ There was more than a simple question there and she didn’t feel like answering it. Damned bat didn't miss much... For the briefest of moments, the thought flickered through her mind of feigning a faint. It might have worked but it hadn’t been that long since she’d last used it upon her aunt.
Entirely avoiding answering the question about Nikos, she had absolutely no intention of discussing the man with her aunt or anyone else right now, even if it did exasperate her aunt. Refusing to let Lord Gavriil fade back after she’d been able to find the tiniest bit of quiet relief around him, she latched onto him. You aren’t getting away that easily… you offered… I accepted… we are going for some air.
“I… need some air.” It wasn’t exactly, the brightest thing that had ever come out of Evangelina’s mouth… it was too honest, too…. To the point for a Leventi. It didn’t gild the lily any. So she quickly followed up with a bit more, “Please, excuse me for a few moments… I am still a bit shaken up after my tumble and Lord Gavriil has kindly offered to escort me outside long enough to find my composure.”
Glancing to the bard who’d stood there quietly for a few moments, probably not entirely sure what to make of the upper classes mingling. “I was going to ask this talented man, if he might play some of Pia’s favorites… but since you two are here now… you will think of some that I would have no doubt forgotten.”
The pint-sized Leventi had found an anchor, even a momentarily anchor in a rather unexpected person. Lifting her eyes up to the taller Dimitrou, “Lead the way, my lord. How is your family?” It was small talk and she hated it, but her eagle-eyed aunt was no doubt focused in on what she could be saying to Lord Gavriil and silence would seem odd. She continued with, “Your son has some rather nice horses, I hear…”
Once out of earshot, her grip loosened to just a limp hold and a whoosh of air escaped her. Feeling tired and older than her mere twenty-one years, she exhaled a throaty, “Thank you, my lord.”
The princess was subdued with the greeting from Lord Dimitrou. She returned the formality with a short bow of her own, noting his grave nature and staunch stature. She felt similarly and there was little more that Xene wanted to do than hole herself up in her chambers, away from prying eyes and the chatter of court. Her cup of wine seemed a better companion than anyone in the massive great room.
Xene pointedly kept her gaze off of Lord Fotios of Leventi and his wife, Eirini. There had been embarrassment founded in that relationship and she was inclined not to repeat the same mistakes. Smiling and nodding briefly at anyone who passed, the woman briefly struggled to keep her composure. This was no right. Stephanos and Olympia should have been here to greet the foreign General. She and her sister should have been allowed to fade into the back if they pleased.
But that was not how any of this worked. Xene herself was the host of this court session whether the other ladies appreciated that or not. The appearance of her younger sister put her further at ease. Giving a brilliant mask of a smile, Xene took her sister's arm, pulling her gently to her side with a gentle, "You look beautiful," as was her customary greeting to Princess Gianna. With her sibling there to ground her, she seemed able to lift her chin and square her shoulders, finding her confidence in that instance.
It was the entrance of the General and the Taengea entourage that threw Xene just a little out of confidence. Her gaze flicked to the rather intimidating man who was currently making his rounds around the court. She took him in, sizing him up as if she were sizing up a hunter's prey. There was a spark of curiosity as she debated what she may be able to find out about the Egyptian man who had yet to be introduced to her.
Apparently her Uncle was doing a sub par job of ensuring the Kingdom's guest was being guided through the proper channels. Though, it was not like she could expect anything less from the man who had seemed to make it his mission to oust every one of her immediate family members from the Palati in the last few months. Xene had her own idea of who was truly responsible for the deaths of her brother and father. The evidence that had been presented at the Senate meeting had been planted.
Xene had been in Zach's room. She had been through every inch of it while looking for some sign or reason that this had all happened to him and their father.
The charges against King Stephanos were an absolute farce.
Tearing her gaze from the General, she glanced to one of the servants lingering by the wall and then back to Heron who had made himself a staple view at the back of the room. That was enough to set both of them moving, listening, quietly observing as they paced about the room, seemingly doing their duties without drawing any attention to themselves.
Heron slowly made his way through the crowd of people, now lingering close behind the two princesses as if he were there to ward off witches and demons. He kept his arms firmly crossed against his chest, his dark gaze flitting about the room once. Then he dipped his head to Xene and Gianna, "Princess Xene, Princess Gianna," and then went along on his path of observation, giving the two women a wide berth but also keeping an eye on them for their protection. Anything for the sisters of his lost lover, it seemed. It had not been too entirely difficult to pull the man to her side and into her service. Undying loyalty had been sworn. He did not work for the crown. He worked for her. It was that simple.
With every intention of making her way toward the General, her gaze caught sight of Nana of Leventi and her guest, who she had personally signed a pass for only a few days before so that he might attend. Smiling at Gianna, she pulled her sister with her, meeting Nana of Leventi and her guest in the middle. "Lady Nana," Xene greeted sweetly, her blue eyes watching the younger lady with a cunning glint before she brought her gaze to Basilides, "Basilides," she murmured, "I am pleased to see you attending to the ever-delightful Lady Leventi," the princess mused. Pulling Gianna a little closer, "Have you had the pleasure of meeting my sister, Princess Gianna?" she asked smoothly, lifting one perfect eyebrow as if she were intent on playing a game with both Nana and Basilides. A game of wits, no doubt.
Then her focus returned to Nana, "That color suits you, Lady Nana. Are you enjoying yourself at court?"
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The princess was subdued with the greeting from Lord Dimitrou. She returned the formality with a short bow of her own, noting his grave nature and staunch stature. She felt similarly and there was little more that Xene wanted to do than hole herself up in her chambers, away from prying eyes and the chatter of court. Her cup of wine seemed a better companion than anyone in the massive great room.
Xene pointedly kept her gaze off of Lord Fotios of Leventi and his wife, Eirini. There had been embarrassment founded in that relationship and she was inclined not to repeat the same mistakes. Smiling and nodding briefly at anyone who passed, the woman briefly struggled to keep her composure. This was no right. Stephanos and Olympia should have been here to greet the foreign General. She and her sister should have been allowed to fade into the back if they pleased.
But that was not how any of this worked. Xene herself was the host of this court session whether the other ladies appreciated that or not. The appearance of her younger sister put her further at ease. Giving a brilliant mask of a smile, Xene took her sister's arm, pulling her gently to her side with a gentle, "You look beautiful," as was her customary greeting to Princess Gianna. With her sibling there to ground her, she seemed able to lift her chin and square her shoulders, finding her confidence in that instance.
It was the entrance of the General and the Taengea entourage that threw Xene just a little out of confidence. Her gaze flicked to the rather intimidating man who was currently making his rounds around the court. She took him in, sizing him up as if she were sizing up a hunter's prey. There was a spark of curiosity as she debated what she may be able to find out about the Egyptian man who had yet to be introduced to her.
Apparently her Uncle was doing a sub par job of ensuring the Kingdom's guest was being guided through the proper channels. Though, it was not like she could expect anything less from the man who had seemed to make it his mission to oust every one of her immediate family members from the Palati in the last few months. Xene had her own idea of who was truly responsible for the deaths of her brother and father. The evidence that had been presented at the Senate meeting had been planted.
Xene had been in Zach's room. She had been through every inch of it while looking for some sign or reason that this had all happened to him and their father.
The charges against King Stephanos were an absolute farce.
Tearing her gaze from the General, she glanced to one of the servants lingering by the wall and then back to Heron who had made himself a staple view at the back of the room. That was enough to set both of them moving, listening, quietly observing as they paced about the room, seemingly doing their duties without drawing any attention to themselves.
Heron slowly made his way through the crowd of people, now lingering close behind the two princesses as if he were there to ward off witches and demons. He kept his arms firmly crossed against his chest, his dark gaze flitting about the room once. Then he dipped his head to Xene and Gianna, "Princess Xene, Princess Gianna," and then went along on his path of observation, giving the two women a wide berth but also keeping an eye on them for their protection. Anything for the sisters of his lost lover, it seemed. It had not been too entirely difficult to pull the man to her side and into her service. Undying loyalty had been sworn. He did not work for the crown. He worked for her. It was that simple.
With every intention of making her way toward the General, her gaze caught sight of Nana of Leventi and her guest, who she had personally signed a pass for only a few days before so that he might attend. Smiling at Gianna, she pulled her sister with her, meeting Nana of Leventi and her guest in the middle. "Lady Nana," Xene greeted sweetly, her blue eyes watching the younger lady with a cunning glint before she brought her gaze to Basilides, "Basilides," she murmured, "I am pleased to see you attending to the ever-delightful Lady Leventi," the princess mused. Pulling Gianna a little closer, "Have you had the pleasure of meeting my sister, Princess Gianna?" she asked smoothly, lifting one perfect eyebrow as if she were intent on playing a game with both Nana and Basilides. A game of wits, no doubt.
Then her focus returned to Nana, "That color suits you, Lady Nana. Are you enjoying yourself at court?"
The princess was subdued with the greeting from Lord Dimitrou. She returned the formality with a short bow of her own, noting his grave nature and staunch stature. She felt similarly and there was little more that Xene wanted to do than hole herself up in her chambers, away from prying eyes and the chatter of court. Her cup of wine seemed a better companion than anyone in the massive great room.
Xene pointedly kept her gaze off of Lord Fotios of Leventi and his wife, Eirini. There had been embarrassment founded in that relationship and she was inclined not to repeat the same mistakes. Smiling and nodding briefly at anyone who passed, the woman briefly struggled to keep her composure. This was no right. Stephanos and Olympia should have been here to greet the foreign General. She and her sister should have been allowed to fade into the back if they pleased.
But that was not how any of this worked. Xene herself was the host of this court session whether the other ladies appreciated that or not. The appearance of her younger sister put her further at ease. Giving a brilliant mask of a smile, Xene took her sister's arm, pulling her gently to her side with a gentle, "You look beautiful," as was her customary greeting to Princess Gianna. With her sibling there to ground her, she seemed able to lift her chin and square her shoulders, finding her confidence in that instance.
It was the entrance of the General and the Taengea entourage that threw Xene just a little out of confidence. Her gaze flicked to the rather intimidating man who was currently making his rounds around the court. She took him in, sizing him up as if she were sizing up a hunter's prey. There was a spark of curiosity as she debated what she may be able to find out about the Egyptian man who had yet to be introduced to her.
Apparently her Uncle was doing a sub par job of ensuring the Kingdom's guest was being guided through the proper channels. Though, it was not like she could expect anything less from the man who had seemed to make it his mission to oust every one of her immediate family members from the Palati in the last few months. Xene had her own idea of who was truly responsible for the deaths of her brother and father. The evidence that had been presented at the Senate meeting had been planted.
Xene had been in Zach's room. She had been through every inch of it while looking for some sign or reason that this had all happened to him and their father.
The charges against King Stephanos were an absolute farce.
Tearing her gaze from the General, she glanced to one of the servants lingering by the wall and then back to Heron who had made himself a staple view at the back of the room. That was enough to set both of them moving, listening, quietly observing as they paced about the room, seemingly doing their duties without drawing any attention to themselves.
Heron slowly made his way through the crowd of people, now lingering close behind the two princesses as if he were there to ward off witches and demons. He kept his arms firmly crossed against his chest, his dark gaze flitting about the room once. Then he dipped his head to Xene and Gianna, "Princess Xene, Princess Gianna," and then went along on his path of observation, giving the two women a wide berth but also keeping an eye on them for their protection. Anything for the sisters of his lost lover, it seemed. It had not been too entirely difficult to pull the man to her side and into her service. Undying loyalty had been sworn. He did not work for the crown. He worked for her. It was that simple.
With every intention of making her way toward the General, her gaze caught sight of Nana of Leventi and her guest, who she had personally signed a pass for only a few days before so that he might attend. Smiling at Gianna, she pulled her sister with her, meeting Nana of Leventi and her guest in the middle. "Lady Nana," Xene greeted sweetly, her blue eyes watching the younger lady with a cunning glint before she brought her gaze to Basilides, "Basilides," she murmured, "I am pleased to see you attending to the ever-delightful Lady Leventi," the princess mused. Pulling Gianna a little closer, "Have you had the pleasure of meeting my sister, Princess Gianna?" she asked smoothly, lifting one perfect eyebrow as if she were intent on playing a game with both Nana and Basilides. A game of wits, no doubt.
Then her focus returned to Nana, "That color suits you, Lady Nana. Are you enjoying yourself at court?"
Allowing the Sirdar to be drawn away by others, while Irakles would've loved to continue to introduce the Egyptian delegate to more, he had to allow Fotios his time as well. As such, Irakles melted back in the background, and instead merely trailed along as Fotios introduced the Egyptian general to others, whilst his eyes searched for Ujarak. Spying his small scribe, the man was quick to motion at him to come over, before telling the man to find his wife. Myrto may be far estranged from him, but propriety still dictated he introduce his wife, at the very least doing so before he brought forth his mistress. Tecnically, he should have found Gianna and Xene as well, but the two princesses had been reported to him as in less then favorable conditions of late, and he wanted to see for himself how they were, before introducing them to a guest they were supposed to impress.
It did not take long for Ujarak to arrive with the Lady Myrto on his side. His wife had long been ostracized at court, but for something of such aplomb, he would not stand by and watch as Myrto would let yet another important event pass by without attending. As such, Irakles had intentionally sent out a missive expressly instructing her to attend or face is displeasure, and sure enough, his wife had made the trip over from Euttica. Dressed in a maroon chiton, for a moment, Irakles's eyes gleamed with satisfaction that, despite her irritation with him, she still ran at his beck and call. Gesturing at Ujarak to go and find Meena to ensure she was ready for her own introduction, Irakles winced when Myrto began speaking before she even got close enough so her words would not reach others. Did the woman want to cost him all he had worked hard for?
"What is this I hear about Achilleas not handling your duties as Head, now that you're Prince Regent? He is your eldest, he sho-" Ah, this was why Irakles had stepped away from Myrto - her capability to nag at every decision he made. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the man pasted a smile on his face, speaking for people to hear, yet in a tone that clearly hinted at Myrto to hush on her complaints. "Achilleas has a barony to handle, and a wedding to get ready for, Lady Myrto. His brother would be assisting him in both the wedding preparation as well as decisions regarding the Dynasteia. The boy is a baron of his own province, you would not want to overwork him just two weeks before his own wedding, now would you?"
Not letting her argue in return, Irakles took Myrto by the shoulder and smiled at Osorsen just as the eldest niece of Fotios was led away by - much to Irakles's surprise - the crown prince of Colchis. Briefly, Irakles raised a questioning brow at Fotios over the Egyptian's shoulder, but quickly allowed it to flicker back to the delegate as he presented his wife. "My wife, Lady Myrto of Mikaelidas, Sirdar." In turn, Myrto made a pretty curtsy, greeting Osorsen as was appropriate for one of her station, before Irakles stepped forward after telling Myrto keep an eye out for Achilleas and Emilios.
Turning to the lady he knew to be one of the royal houses in Colchis (as Ujarak had informed him), Irakles gave a respectful tilt of his head as he greeted her. "Lady Imeeya, perhaps you would care to join us as we greet our hostesses?" With that, the man gestured for Osorsen to come with him, and weaved through the crowd, searching for a figure he knew would've been here earlier.
He had sent his mistress ahead while he headed to the docks with Fotios to greet the Egyptians, together with Tasia. His eldest daughter would be somewhere among the crush, but it was Meena he sought for amongst the crowd now, until he finally spied her approaching Evelli and her daughter, the Lady Imma of Leventi. From what he could surmise, Irakles would assume she had just came in after greeting the last of the stragglers who had arrived, and was just now entering the hall.
His mistress was beautiful, and rightly so, looking as if she fit right in even though she was of no noble birth. Meena had been attending court sessions over the past decade, and despite her not being of noble birth, her dexterity with words and talent in drawing out people's feelings have made her a welcomed part of nobility, even with no title save for that which was Irakles's mistress. No one dared slight her, for she had the might of not only Prince Irakles, but the Lady Eirini herself, and both women made formidable hostesses as compared to the two young princesses who, while beautiful, did not possess the experience the two elder ones had in dealing with court intrigue and political chatter.
To Irakles, his mistress and Fotios's wife made far more experienced hostesses as compared to the two princesses - those two, he will seek out later, but decorum dictated they come looking for the guest to greet them, and he would not put the Egyptian Sirdar through swimming through the throngs of people to find those two.
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Allowing the Sirdar to be drawn away by others, while Irakles would've loved to continue to introduce the Egyptian delegate to more, he had to allow Fotios his time as well. As such, Irakles melted back in the background, and instead merely trailed along as Fotios introduced the Egyptian general to others, whilst his eyes searched for Ujarak. Spying his small scribe, the man was quick to motion at him to come over, before telling the man to find his wife. Myrto may be far estranged from him, but propriety still dictated he introduce his wife, at the very least doing so before he brought forth his mistress. Tecnically, he should have found Gianna and Xene as well, but the two princesses had been reported to him as in less then favorable conditions of late, and he wanted to see for himself how they were, before introducing them to a guest they were supposed to impress.
It did not take long for Ujarak to arrive with the Lady Myrto on his side. His wife had long been ostracized at court, but for something of such aplomb, he would not stand by and watch as Myrto would let yet another important event pass by without attending. As such, Irakles had intentionally sent out a missive expressly instructing her to attend or face is displeasure, and sure enough, his wife had made the trip over from Euttica. Dressed in a maroon chiton, for a moment, Irakles's eyes gleamed with satisfaction that, despite her irritation with him, she still ran at his beck and call. Gesturing at Ujarak to go and find Meena to ensure she was ready for her own introduction, Irakles winced when Myrto began speaking before she even got close enough so her words would not reach others. Did the woman want to cost him all he had worked hard for?
"What is this I hear about Achilleas not handling your duties as Head, now that you're Prince Regent? He is your eldest, he sho-" Ah, this was why Irakles had stepped away from Myrto - her capability to nag at every decision he made. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the man pasted a smile on his face, speaking for people to hear, yet in a tone that clearly hinted at Myrto to hush on her complaints. "Achilleas has a barony to handle, and a wedding to get ready for, Lady Myrto. His brother would be assisting him in both the wedding preparation as well as decisions regarding the Dynasteia. The boy is a baron of his own province, you would not want to overwork him just two weeks before his own wedding, now would you?"
Not letting her argue in return, Irakles took Myrto by the shoulder and smiled at Osorsen just as the eldest niece of Fotios was led away by - much to Irakles's surprise - the crown prince of Colchis. Briefly, Irakles raised a questioning brow at Fotios over the Egyptian's shoulder, but quickly allowed it to flicker back to the delegate as he presented his wife. "My wife, Lady Myrto of Mikaelidas, Sirdar." In turn, Myrto made a pretty curtsy, greeting Osorsen as was appropriate for one of her station, before Irakles stepped forward after telling Myrto keep an eye out for Achilleas and Emilios.
Turning to the lady he knew to be one of the royal houses in Colchis (as Ujarak had informed him), Irakles gave a respectful tilt of his head as he greeted her. "Lady Imeeya, perhaps you would care to join us as we greet our hostesses?" With that, the man gestured for Osorsen to come with him, and weaved through the crowd, searching for a figure he knew would've been here earlier.
He had sent his mistress ahead while he headed to the docks with Fotios to greet the Egyptians, together with Tasia. His eldest daughter would be somewhere among the crush, but it was Meena he sought for amongst the crowd now, until he finally spied her approaching Evelli and her daughter, the Lady Imma of Leventi. From what he could surmise, Irakles would assume she had just came in after greeting the last of the stragglers who had arrived, and was just now entering the hall.
His mistress was beautiful, and rightly so, looking as if she fit right in even though she was of no noble birth. Meena had been attending court sessions over the past decade, and despite her not being of noble birth, her dexterity with words and talent in drawing out people's feelings have made her a welcomed part of nobility, even with no title save for that which was Irakles's mistress. No one dared slight her, for she had the might of not only Prince Irakles, but the Lady Eirini herself, and both women made formidable hostesses as compared to the two young princesses who, while beautiful, did not possess the experience the two elder ones had in dealing with court intrigue and political chatter.
To Irakles, his mistress and Fotios's wife made far more experienced hostesses as compared to the two princesses - those two, he will seek out later, but decorum dictated they come looking for the guest to greet them, and he would not put the Egyptian Sirdar through swimming through the throngs of people to find those two.
Allowing the Sirdar to be drawn away by others, while Irakles would've loved to continue to introduce the Egyptian delegate to more, he had to allow Fotios his time as well. As such, Irakles melted back in the background, and instead merely trailed along as Fotios introduced the Egyptian general to others, whilst his eyes searched for Ujarak. Spying his small scribe, the man was quick to motion at him to come over, before telling the man to find his wife. Myrto may be far estranged from him, but propriety still dictated he introduce his wife, at the very least doing so before he brought forth his mistress. Tecnically, he should have found Gianna and Xene as well, but the two princesses had been reported to him as in less then favorable conditions of late, and he wanted to see for himself how they were, before introducing them to a guest they were supposed to impress.
It did not take long for Ujarak to arrive with the Lady Myrto on his side. His wife had long been ostracized at court, but for something of such aplomb, he would not stand by and watch as Myrto would let yet another important event pass by without attending. As such, Irakles had intentionally sent out a missive expressly instructing her to attend or face is displeasure, and sure enough, his wife had made the trip over from Euttica. Dressed in a maroon chiton, for a moment, Irakles's eyes gleamed with satisfaction that, despite her irritation with him, she still ran at his beck and call. Gesturing at Ujarak to go and find Meena to ensure she was ready for her own introduction, Irakles winced when Myrto began speaking before she even got close enough so her words would not reach others. Did the woman want to cost him all he had worked hard for?
"What is this I hear about Achilleas not handling your duties as Head, now that you're Prince Regent? He is your eldest, he sho-" Ah, this was why Irakles had stepped away from Myrto - her capability to nag at every decision he made. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the man pasted a smile on his face, speaking for people to hear, yet in a tone that clearly hinted at Myrto to hush on her complaints. "Achilleas has a barony to handle, and a wedding to get ready for, Lady Myrto. His brother would be assisting him in both the wedding preparation as well as decisions regarding the Dynasteia. The boy is a baron of his own province, you would not want to overwork him just two weeks before his own wedding, now would you?"
Not letting her argue in return, Irakles took Myrto by the shoulder and smiled at Osorsen just as the eldest niece of Fotios was led away by - much to Irakles's surprise - the crown prince of Colchis. Briefly, Irakles raised a questioning brow at Fotios over the Egyptian's shoulder, but quickly allowed it to flicker back to the delegate as he presented his wife. "My wife, Lady Myrto of Mikaelidas, Sirdar." In turn, Myrto made a pretty curtsy, greeting Osorsen as was appropriate for one of her station, before Irakles stepped forward after telling Myrto keep an eye out for Achilleas and Emilios.
Turning to the lady he knew to be one of the royal houses in Colchis (as Ujarak had informed him), Irakles gave a respectful tilt of his head as he greeted her. "Lady Imeeya, perhaps you would care to join us as we greet our hostesses?" With that, the man gestured for Osorsen to come with him, and weaved through the crowd, searching for a figure he knew would've been here earlier.
He had sent his mistress ahead while he headed to the docks with Fotios to greet the Egyptians, together with Tasia. His eldest daughter would be somewhere among the crush, but it was Meena he sought for amongst the crowd now, until he finally spied her approaching Evelli and her daughter, the Lady Imma of Leventi. From what he could surmise, Irakles would assume she had just came in after greeting the last of the stragglers who had arrived, and was just now entering the hall.
His mistress was beautiful, and rightly so, looking as if she fit right in even though she was of no noble birth. Meena had been attending court sessions over the past decade, and despite her not being of noble birth, her dexterity with words and talent in drawing out people's feelings have made her a welcomed part of nobility, even with no title save for that which was Irakles's mistress. No one dared slight her, for she had the might of not only Prince Irakles, but the Lady Eirini herself, and both women made formidable hostesses as compared to the two young princesses who, while beautiful, did not possess the experience the two elder ones had in dealing with court intrigue and political chatter.
To Irakles, his mistress and Fotios's wife made far more experienced hostesses as compared to the two princesses - those two, he will seek out later, but decorum dictated they come looking for the guest to greet them, and he would not put the Egyptian Sirdar through swimming through the throngs of people to find those two.
When he’d offered to take her out of her predicament, he hadn’t expected to see naked desperation in her gaze. Apparently the situation was worse than he’d realized and he was on the point of taking her by the arm to escort her elsewhere when Lady Evelli descended upon them. Ah. Good. Gavriil offered the Leventi matron a nod and was now about to leave Evangelina to her aunt’s care, which was as it should be. When he’d come over here, he had not seen Imma Leventi or Evelli trying to rescue her as well. It was to Evangelina’s credit that she had so many people willing to save her from what might be an embarrassing and obviously unwanted episode.
However, the girl had her own mind, which was evidenced by her insistence to her aunt that she needed air still. He’d have backed away already but for Evangelina’s surprisingly firm hold on his arm. Glancing down at her hands and then back at Evelli, he nodded then to Imma and escorted Evangelina away. He could do nothing else. She’d plainly told the rest of them that’s what was happening and if he disengaged her hold, even if he managed to somehow do that gently, he imagined that she might be fairly embarrassed, which was the whole thing he had been intending to shield her from.
Before he could think how to extract himself from the situation and leave her to the far more capable hands of her aunt, who clearly had the same idea for her and Imma that he had for Dorothea, which was to marry them off suitably, he found himself being given permission to take her away. He glanced around the room to that corner he’d been intending to get back to but found himself walking with her through the crowd instead, intent on finding a balcony. Actual fresh, moving air. Very few people. It was ideal for them both.
When asked how his family was, he gave her the monosyllabic “Well.” They were ‘well’ in a sense, though Iason did have a rather bad cold and Dorothea, he knew, was bothered by this whole affair. Alexa remained firmly at home, which he imagined she probably disliked, and his brother was off doing gods knew what. However, he couldn’t imagine that she would want to hear about any of that. He’d only seen her at her father’s estate, and since she’d never made the trip to his own, he couldn’t imagine she was close friends with his daughter, which meant that her question stemmed from politeness, rather than interest. Thus, his short answer. Like her, he did not do small talk.
When she asked about Iason’s horses, he glanced at her, wondering if she was trying to get at the fact that the horses were only tangentially related to those that her family sold. His provinces bred their own horses too, and that’s where his and his family’s came from. “Not so fine as your father’s,” he said as they meandered through the room. At last they made it to a balcony and he dropped his arm to his side.
Her exhaled thank you drew a small smile. “You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty bound to intervene.” It was what he would have wanted for his own daughters. Glancing down into the wine goblet he held, he drank from it to save himself from having to further explain anything else to her.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When he’d offered to take her out of her predicament, he hadn’t expected to see naked desperation in her gaze. Apparently the situation was worse than he’d realized and he was on the point of taking her by the arm to escort her elsewhere when Lady Evelli descended upon them. Ah. Good. Gavriil offered the Leventi matron a nod and was now about to leave Evangelina to her aunt’s care, which was as it should be. When he’d come over here, he had not seen Imma Leventi or Evelli trying to rescue her as well. It was to Evangelina’s credit that she had so many people willing to save her from what might be an embarrassing and obviously unwanted episode.
However, the girl had her own mind, which was evidenced by her insistence to her aunt that she needed air still. He’d have backed away already but for Evangelina’s surprisingly firm hold on his arm. Glancing down at her hands and then back at Evelli, he nodded then to Imma and escorted Evangelina away. He could do nothing else. She’d plainly told the rest of them that’s what was happening and if he disengaged her hold, even if he managed to somehow do that gently, he imagined that she might be fairly embarrassed, which was the whole thing he had been intending to shield her from.
Before he could think how to extract himself from the situation and leave her to the far more capable hands of her aunt, who clearly had the same idea for her and Imma that he had for Dorothea, which was to marry them off suitably, he found himself being given permission to take her away. He glanced around the room to that corner he’d been intending to get back to but found himself walking with her through the crowd instead, intent on finding a balcony. Actual fresh, moving air. Very few people. It was ideal for them both.
When asked how his family was, he gave her the monosyllabic “Well.” They were ‘well’ in a sense, though Iason did have a rather bad cold and Dorothea, he knew, was bothered by this whole affair. Alexa remained firmly at home, which he imagined she probably disliked, and his brother was off doing gods knew what. However, he couldn’t imagine that she would want to hear about any of that. He’d only seen her at her father’s estate, and since she’d never made the trip to his own, he couldn’t imagine she was close friends with his daughter, which meant that her question stemmed from politeness, rather than interest. Thus, his short answer. Like her, he did not do small talk.
When she asked about Iason’s horses, he glanced at her, wondering if she was trying to get at the fact that the horses were only tangentially related to those that her family sold. His provinces bred their own horses too, and that’s where his and his family’s came from. “Not so fine as your father’s,” he said as they meandered through the room. At last they made it to a balcony and he dropped his arm to his side.
Her exhaled thank you drew a small smile. “You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty bound to intervene.” It was what he would have wanted for his own daughters. Glancing down into the wine goblet he held, he drank from it to save himself from having to further explain anything else to her.
When he’d offered to take her out of her predicament, he hadn’t expected to see naked desperation in her gaze. Apparently the situation was worse than he’d realized and he was on the point of taking her by the arm to escort her elsewhere when Lady Evelli descended upon them. Ah. Good. Gavriil offered the Leventi matron a nod and was now about to leave Evangelina to her aunt’s care, which was as it should be. When he’d come over here, he had not seen Imma Leventi or Evelli trying to rescue her as well. It was to Evangelina’s credit that she had so many people willing to save her from what might be an embarrassing and obviously unwanted episode.
However, the girl had her own mind, which was evidenced by her insistence to her aunt that she needed air still. He’d have backed away already but for Evangelina’s surprisingly firm hold on his arm. Glancing down at her hands and then back at Evelli, he nodded then to Imma and escorted Evangelina away. He could do nothing else. She’d plainly told the rest of them that’s what was happening and if he disengaged her hold, even if he managed to somehow do that gently, he imagined that she might be fairly embarrassed, which was the whole thing he had been intending to shield her from.
Before he could think how to extract himself from the situation and leave her to the far more capable hands of her aunt, who clearly had the same idea for her and Imma that he had for Dorothea, which was to marry them off suitably, he found himself being given permission to take her away. He glanced around the room to that corner he’d been intending to get back to but found himself walking with her through the crowd instead, intent on finding a balcony. Actual fresh, moving air. Very few people. It was ideal for them both.
When asked how his family was, he gave her the monosyllabic “Well.” They were ‘well’ in a sense, though Iason did have a rather bad cold and Dorothea, he knew, was bothered by this whole affair. Alexa remained firmly at home, which he imagined she probably disliked, and his brother was off doing gods knew what. However, he couldn’t imagine that she would want to hear about any of that. He’d only seen her at her father’s estate, and since she’d never made the trip to his own, he couldn’t imagine she was close friends with his daughter, which meant that her question stemmed from politeness, rather than interest. Thus, his short answer. Like her, he did not do small talk.
When she asked about Iason’s horses, he glanced at her, wondering if she was trying to get at the fact that the horses were only tangentially related to those that her family sold. His provinces bred their own horses too, and that’s where his and his family’s came from. “Not so fine as your father’s,” he said as they meandered through the room. At last they made it to a balcony and he dropped his arm to his side.
Her exhaled thank you drew a small smile. “You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty bound to intervene.” It was what he would have wanted for his own daughters. Glancing down into the wine goblet he held, he drank from it to save himself from having to further explain anything else to her.
What was it people often said about good intentions? For all her best efforts Imma was only treading further and further away from her desired path. All hopes she had of helping Evangelina lit like pith upon a fire; consumed in the blink of an eye and lost to the heavens. The last thing she had expected in offering her aid was the renewed sense of dread within her cousin’s eyes. Had she said something wrong? Taken rather by surprise she wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction from her features. Imma simply had not perfected the mask that all proper ladies seemed to wear. When Gavriil turned to offer his assistance she redirected her wide dark gaze his way before it fell once more upon her cousin. When she responded swiftly to his offer there was a slight sense of discomfort within her. A pang of disappointment that grew into hurt in the short amount of time it took for her mother to make her appearance.
Disturbing? Is that was she was doing? The thought riddled her mind with more knots than an old tree. Glancing back toward Gavriil she felt a lump build in her throat that limited her reaction to him to little more than a polite dip. If she had opened her mouth at that moment she was relatively certain that she would have felt the heat brimming near her lashes manifest into a glaze of tears and that was the last thing she wanted. Crying her first time at court seemed a ridiculous way to behave. The question her mother posed left her tentatively adjusting her weight as her attention moved once more. Passing away from the situation at hand toward the departing Lord. One of the two men her mother had specifically told her to speak with. The other? The son of the man whom she was now questioning whether or not she was disturbing.
In an attempt to be helpful and kind she’d managed to do the exact opposite of what she’d been planning to do and what was worse still was that her help was neither wanted nor accepted. Waiting until Gavriil and Evangelina stepped away gave her enough time to compose herself. Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths to anchor her nerves and pull back the rising flood. As soon as she was certain that she was past the point of crying like a child she brought her gaze back up toward her mother. “I’m sorry… I was just trying to help.” The words were a shallow whisper, quiet enough that she was fairly certain only her mother would hear her. Though to be fair she couldn’t quite know that.
Looking toward the direction that her cousin made off she found herself momentarily aggravated with not only her choices but the distance between herself and other members of her family. It occurred to her that each woman in her family was now being escorted about on the arm of a suitable man. It made them all quite occupied and meant she could not rely on them for any form of help or company. Now that she felt as though she’d already ruined the start of her evening in failing to do as her mother advised she felt even less compelled to linger at her side. Still it seemed the best imaginable place for her. At least if she remained metaphorically attached to her mother’s hip then she would not run the risk of disturbing others or driving people away that she should have been working to draw in.
Reaching upward she ran her fingers over the earring that dangled from her right lobe. Taking some small hint of comfort from the smooth metal as it passed frictionlessly beneath her fingertips. The fidgeting passed relatively quickly and before long her hands were clasped in front of herself. Maybe this was why her mother had wanted her close to begin with. She knew better than Imma herself that she wasn’t ready, no matter how pretty the dress or exquisite the jewelry. Breathing out a sigh she put on the best smile she could manage, which despite not being as stunning as her smile typically was, still managed to be quite pretty. “I am sorry, I won’t wander again.”
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What was it people often said about good intentions? For all her best efforts Imma was only treading further and further away from her desired path. All hopes she had of helping Evangelina lit like pith upon a fire; consumed in the blink of an eye and lost to the heavens. The last thing she had expected in offering her aid was the renewed sense of dread within her cousin’s eyes. Had she said something wrong? Taken rather by surprise she wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction from her features. Imma simply had not perfected the mask that all proper ladies seemed to wear. When Gavriil turned to offer his assistance she redirected her wide dark gaze his way before it fell once more upon her cousin. When she responded swiftly to his offer there was a slight sense of discomfort within her. A pang of disappointment that grew into hurt in the short amount of time it took for her mother to make her appearance.
Disturbing? Is that was she was doing? The thought riddled her mind with more knots than an old tree. Glancing back toward Gavriil she felt a lump build in her throat that limited her reaction to him to little more than a polite dip. If she had opened her mouth at that moment she was relatively certain that she would have felt the heat brimming near her lashes manifest into a glaze of tears and that was the last thing she wanted. Crying her first time at court seemed a ridiculous way to behave. The question her mother posed left her tentatively adjusting her weight as her attention moved once more. Passing away from the situation at hand toward the departing Lord. One of the two men her mother had specifically told her to speak with. The other? The son of the man whom she was now questioning whether or not she was disturbing.
In an attempt to be helpful and kind she’d managed to do the exact opposite of what she’d been planning to do and what was worse still was that her help was neither wanted nor accepted. Waiting until Gavriil and Evangelina stepped away gave her enough time to compose herself. Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths to anchor her nerves and pull back the rising flood. As soon as she was certain that she was past the point of crying like a child she brought her gaze back up toward her mother. “I’m sorry… I was just trying to help.” The words were a shallow whisper, quiet enough that she was fairly certain only her mother would hear her. Though to be fair she couldn’t quite know that.
Looking toward the direction that her cousin made off she found herself momentarily aggravated with not only her choices but the distance between herself and other members of her family. It occurred to her that each woman in her family was now being escorted about on the arm of a suitable man. It made them all quite occupied and meant she could not rely on them for any form of help or company. Now that she felt as though she’d already ruined the start of her evening in failing to do as her mother advised she felt even less compelled to linger at her side. Still it seemed the best imaginable place for her. At least if she remained metaphorically attached to her mother’s hip then she would not run the risk of disturbing others or driving people away that she should have been working to draw in.
Reaching upward she ran her fingers over the earring that dangled from her right lobe. Taking some small hint of comfort from the smooth metal as it passed frictionlessly beneath her fingertips. The fidgeting passed relatively quickly and before long her hands were clasped in front of herself. Maybe this was why her mother had wanted her close to begin with. She knew better than Imma herself that she wasn’t ready, no matter how pretty the dress or exquisite the jewelry. Breathing out a sigh she put on the best smile she could manage, which despite not being as stunning as her smile typically was, still managed to be quite pretty. “I am sorry, I won’t wander again.”
What was it people often said about good intentions? For all her best efforts Imma was only treading further and further away from her desired path. All hopes she had of helping Evangelina lit like pith upon a fire; consumed in the blink of an eye and lost to the heavens. The last thing she had expected in offering her aid was the renewed sense of dread within her cousin’s eyes. Had she said something wrong? Taken rather by surprise she wasn’t quite able to hide her reaction from her features. Imma simply had not perfected the mask that all proper ladies seemed to wear. When Gavriil turned to offer his assistance she redirected her wide dark gaze his way before it fell once more upon her cousin. When she responded swiftly to his offer there was a slight sense of discomfort within her. A pang of disappointment that grew into hurt in the short amount of time it took for her mother to make her appearance.
Disturbing? Is that was she was doing? The thought riddled her mind with more knots than an old tree. Glancing back toward Gavriil she felt a lump build in her throat that limited her reaction to him to little more than a polite dip. If she had opened her mouth at that moment she was relatively certain that she would have felt the heat brimming near her lashes manifest into a glaze of tears and that was the last thing she wanted. Crying her first time at court seemed a ridiculous way to behave. The question her mother posed left her tentatively adjusting her weight as her attention moved once more. Passing away from the situation at hand toward the departing Lord. One of the two men her mother had specifically told her to speak with. The other? The son of the man whom she was now questioning whether or not she was disturbing.
In an attempt to be helpful and kind she’d managed to do the exact opposite of what she’d been planning to do and what was worse still was that her help was neither wanted nor accepted. Waiting until Gavriil and Evangelina stepped away gave her enough time to compose herself. Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths to anchor her nerves and pull back the rising flood. As soon as she was certain that she was past the point of crying like a child she brought her gaze back up toward her mother. “I’m sorry… I was just trying to help.” The words were a shallow whisper, quiet enough that she was fairly certain only her mother would hear her. Though to be fair she couldn’t quite know that.
Looking toward the direction that her cousin made off she found herself momentarily aggravated with not only her choices but the distance between herself and other members of her family. It occurred to her that each woman in her family was now being escorted about on the arm of a suitable man. It made them all quite occupied and meant she could not rely on them for any form of help or company. Now that she felt as though she’d already ruined the start of her evening in failing to do as her mother advised she felt even less compelled to linger at her side. Still it seemed the best imaginable place for her. At least if she remained metaphorically attached to her mother’s hip then she would not run the risk of disturbing others or driving people away that she should have been working to draw in.
Reaching upward she ran her fingers over the earring that dangled from her right lobe. Taking some small hint of comfort from the smooth metal as it passed frictionlessly beneath her fingertips. The fidgeting passed relatively quickly and before long her hands were clasped in front of herself. Maybe this was why her mother had wanted her close to begin with. She knew better than Imma herself that she wasn’t ready, no matter how pretty the dress or exquisite the jewelry. Breathing out a sigh she put on the best smile she could manage, which despite not being as stunning as her smile typically was, still managed to be quite pretty. “I am sorry, I won’t wander again.”
From a distance, Osorsen had seen the figure of his mistress approach the wife of Georgios of Leventi, who would soon be his in-law after the wedding of his son to Theodora. The lady had been a beauty in her time, and it was no surprise to anyone that her daughter's had been so beautiful, half of them were said to be blessed by Aphrodite herself. They were admired far and wide, and that Achilleas was to marry one was simply expected - his son was the son of a prince, and to get the most beautiful of them was the natural course of history.
As he approached the beautiful lady and her youngest, the lord Georgios decided to join them at the same time, just enough for them to catch the tail end of Evelli squeezing Imma's hands tightly, and the father of the young girl giving her a fond look.
Choosing to allow the little family to have a moment, however brief it was, for themselves, Irakles instead turned to his mistress who had just joined the Leventi's and themselves, and drew her forward to direct the Sirdar's eyes to her. "May I present to you, Lady Meena, Sirdar. She is a talented lady wo has organised much of today's festivities, and is a valued member of our court, as well as a dear friend of mine." He murmured, allowing Meena to make her own introductions to the Sirdar, before turning to the Leventi's, once he noted Evelli had nudged Imma slightly to turn her attention to Osorsen, and herself and her husband did the same.
Having left his friend elsewhere by now, for Fotios would be engaged as well in entertaining the many nobles they had in attendance today, Irakles instead took it upon himself to introduce Georgios and Evelli, before turning to Imma and gesturing at the youngest of the family. "And this is Lady Imma, the sister to the beautiful Lady Selene which you've made acquaintence with earlier, and the youngest to Lord Georgios and Lady Evelli." Irakles had noticed the expressed interest the Egyptian had taken to Selene earlier, but now he couldn't help but wonder if he would show such interest in the rest of their Taengean beauties.
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From a distance, Osorsen had seen the figure of his mistress approach the wife of Georgios of Leventi, who would soon be his in-law after the wedding of his son to Theodora. The lady had been a beauty in her time, and it was no surprise to anyone that her daughter's had been so beautiful, half of them were said to be blessed by Aphrodite herself. They were admired far and wide, and that Achilleas was to marry one was simply expected - his son was the son of a prince, and to get the most beautiful of them was the natural course of history.
As he approached the beautiful lady and her youngest, the lord Georgios decided to join them at the same time, just enough for them to catch the tail end of Evelli squeezing Imma's hands tightly, and the father of the young girl giving her a fond look.
Choosing to allow the little family to have a moment, however brief it was, for themselves, Irakles instead turned to his mistress who had just joined the Leventi's and themselves, and drew her forward to direct the Sirdar's eyes to her. "May I present to you, Lady Meena, Sirdar. She is a talented lady wo has organised much of today's festivities, and is a valued member of our court, as well as a dear friend of mine." He murmured, allowing Meena to make her own introductions to the Sirdar, before turning to the Leventi's, once he noted Evelli had nudged Imma slightly to turn her attention to Osorsen, and herself and her husband did the same.
Having left his friend elsewhere by now, for Fotios would be engaged as well in entertaining the many nobles they had in attendance today, Irakles instead took it upon himself to introduce Georgios and Evelli, before turning to Imma and gesturing at the youngest of the family. "And this is Lady Imma, the sister to the beautiful Lady Selene which you've made acquaintence with earlier, and the youngest to Lord Georgios and Lady Evelli." Irakles had noticed the expressed interest the Egyptian had taken to Selene earlier, but now he couldn't help but wonder if he would show such interest in the rest of their Taengean beauties.
From a distance, Osorsen had seen the figure of his mistress approach the wife of Georgios of Leventi, who would soon be his in-law after the wedding of his son to Theodora. The lady had been a beauty in her time, and it was no surprise to anyone that her daughter's had been so beautiful, half of them were said to be blessed by Aphrodite herself. They were admired far and wide, and that Achilleas was to marry one was simply expected - his son was the son of a prince, and to get the most beautiful of them was the natural course of history.
As he approached the beautiful lady and her youngest, the lord Georgios decided to join them at the same time, just enough for them to catch the tail end of Evelli squeezing Imma's hands tightly, and the father of the young girl giving her a fond look.
Choosing to allow the little family to have a moment, however brief it was, for themselves, Irakles instead turned to his mistress who had just joined the Leventi's and themselves, and drew her forward to direct the Sirdar's eyes to her. "May I present to you, Lady Meena, Sirdar. She is a talented lady wo has organised much of today's festivities, and is a valued member of our court, as well as a dear friend of mine." He murmured, allowing Meena to make her own introductions to the Sirdar, before turning to the Leventi's, once he noted Evelli had nudged Imma slightly to turn her attention to Osorsen, and herself and her husband did the same.
Having left his friend elsewhere by now, for Fotios would be engaged as well in entertaining the many nobles they had in attendance today, Irakles instead took it upon himself to introduce Georgios and Evelli, before turning to Imma and gesturing at the youngest of the family. "And this is Lady Imma, the sister to the beautiful Lady Selene which you've made acquaintence with earlier, and the youngest to Lord Georgios and Lady Evelli." Irakles had noticed the expressed interest the Egyptian had taken to Selene earlier, but now he couldn't help but wonder if he would show such interest in the rest of their Taengean beauties.
The interruption to the conversation was swift. And whilst the Colchian prince managed to remain in the realms of politeness - never straying into pure rudeness or demonstrably crass mannerisms - it was clear to all present that he was dismissive of the Egyptian guest to Taengea in almost every way. The comments from the General might have been clue enough from his remarks about blood on hands; these two had clearly seen one another last from opposing sides of some kind of skirmish and such a history wasn't likely to be conducive to conversation. The second clue to the Colchian's bluntness - despite him being Colchian - was the proprietary hand he placed on the small of Fotios' niece's back as he guided her away from the conversation. Whether the man realised the possession in his touch or not, he was an unmarried and eligible man guiding a woman who had barely said two words to the visitor, away from another eligible and attractive male. He would send rumours and messages to all corners of the Taengean court with such behaviour. It certainly wasn't missed by the Egyptian who spoke of loneliness for Selene's future when journeying north to Colchis.
"I do not profess to know the ways of the Fates, Sirdar." Fotios commented as he raised his wine cup to his lips and sipped, his other hand lazing over the exposed skin of Eirini's back. "I only know of her so far lack of formal connection." The comment was quiet, and designed to do little more than inform the Sirdar that Selene was not technically betrothed to the Colchian prince. As far as he was concerned the competition between the men was only to be encouraged. Provided they didn't actually end up killing each other, it was a win-win situation for the House of Leventi. A Colchian Queen or an Egyptian Sirdett with every opportunity of becoming wife to Pharaoh. Egypt were so bloodthirsty with their grappling for the throne there was no trust or security in the current monarchy at any one time. So barbaric. Fotios' eye caught upon Irakles and he had to alter his thoughts. These days, he had to supposed that Taengea was not so different.
Smiling and nodding politely to the Master Informer of Colchis – a man named Magnus whom he had worked with and known of before this day and whom Fotios didn’t like (simply because he was very good at his job and the Head of the House of Leventi enjoyed being the smartest and most knowledgeable person in the room) – and the young Lady Imeeya of Drakos, there was hardly time to exchange proper pleasantries before Irakles was escorting the small group towards the Lady Evelli and her daughter Imma and the Lady Meena.
When the Prince moved to direct the Egyptian away from their party and lead him towards some of the other ladies of the court, Fotios hung back with his wife. The man's Greek was well enough for him to get by and his own translator was in toe. At this point, there was little the men could say that would prove politically advantageous, for they were surrounded by those of lower nobility and the fairer sex. His skills as a translator would be more valuable during any moment in which Irakles and Osorsen were alone. When the word choice was too deliberate and significant to be left to the chance of others. When mutterings between Sirdar and translator could be eavesdropped upon for further knowledge of their intentions. Here, in the middle of a swarming room of Taengean nobility, there was little the great Sirdar of Egypt could do besides smile politely and make pleasant conversation. Fotios was happy to avoid translating such drivel.
Instead, he turned to scan the room and spotted Agape appearing to comfort Melina who was apparently a little thrown off by how many people were in the room and how shocking the social situation was - not to mention the fact that Dafni was blushing to her roots and held an empty wine cup in her hand. What in the world were the girls up to now? Fotios wanted to sigh. He felt like his entire life was monitoring a series of spinning plates, lifted on the ends of poles. Every time he had one perfectly balanced and spinning quickly, another would start to slow and wobble. The wobblers always appeared to be his own daughters. With a steadying breath that cooled his initial spark of anger, he leaned down to murmur in Eirini's ear as if he were muttering something sweet and endearing.
"Our offspring are making no use of themselves." He told her, his frustration evident in his tone, before he then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in their direction. With his wife's eyes echoing his own annoyance and her ample chest rising in a simple breath that sought some form of calm for herself, Eirini left her husband's side with a stride as intentful as it was alluring. He resisted the urge to smile as his other half would handle the situation with – he knew – power and propriety.
Turning away from the sight, before he had himself dazzled and distracted, Fotios found himself now alone, in the near centre of the room - a position that he quickly took advantage of. Spinning to take up a cup of wine from a passing server, replacing its space on the tray with his empty goblet, he used the motion to assess and analyse the entire room, without any indication that he was spying on his peers.
In the single sweep he caught much that could be of use. His two nieces, Selene and Theodora had appeared at the edge of the room once more, their male counterparts returning with them. They each appeared vibrant in their expressions, Selene perhaps a little more rattled than the other. But both were elegant ladies of the court and had been trained to hide their emotions well. His thoughts flickered back to his own daughters but he truncated the idea before it could grow legs.
The second addition to the lay of the noble land that Fotios had noticed was a conversation that had rapidly turned heated between two Mikaelidas lords to the north of the room. The subject appeared to be in regards to their current king and the accusations against him, the wine clouding the viable reasoning that would have told the men to shut up upon such a subject in front of a militant diplomat from another kingdom. Luckily the men were not so close to the Sirdar that Fotios was concerned of him overhearing. Instead, the two stood close to where his and Irakles' nieces, Nana and Gianna had settled with several friends - the lady of Dimitrou and a young man of obscure heritage that Fotios had noticing hanging about the women of the Leventi family with more frequency of late. Eirini had informed him of the man's name some days ago. Basilides, he believed it was. The little group of four were buried in conversation along with the princess Xene who's gaze, Fotios managed to catch, in a moment of pure chance.
There had been no communication between the two of them since their sojourn out in his lands at the Leventi manor that had ended with a kiss. He had deliberately kept his distance from the girl for it was she who had made the approach he was not about to ruin the progress made by pushing further and having her run away from their little connection. Instead, he kept himself proprietary, polite and the perfect confidant he had been before, intending that, eventually she would break the silence between them and give in to the seduction of their little dance.
Part of playing the perfect confidant, however, would be to break that silence now, regardless of his intentions to wait...
Fotios quickly raised his cup in her direction, a few fingers extended from its body and beckoning her over. He took several steps forward, naturally indicating a meeting in the middle, away from both the large group that had assembled around Irakles and that of the small social party she had found herself attached to.
Fotios had watched how Irakles had been handling the Senate, seen how the man had basically rendered Xene's position as leader and director of the Court superfluous. Whilst it did his friendship with Irakles no harm to aid in his niece's handling of the events (for all authority within the remaining Mikaelidas House was to serve in the man's favour) it would progress his plans with the young princess herself by leaps and bounds to aid her in securing authority once more in public; regardless of Irakles’ attempts to horde it for himself.
Once he had her attention and she had crossed the room to address his concerns, Fotios allowed his gaze to shift down her dress for a moment, before it snapped back up to meet her eyes. His expression hardened and turned slightly contrite. As if he had caught himself looking at her inappropriately and regretted the action. He swallowed.
The path that Xene took to reach him, determined to avoid stepping on the gowns of the fine ladies of the sandals of the men, meant that she walked with the two arguing nobleman in her blind spot, and judging from the way the Lady Lecile was rabbiting on at a volume that was entirely unnecessary, he guessed the young princess not to have heard the argument either by the time she reached him.
With a polite bow to the princess, making it clear, before all in the room, whom he considered to have the highest authority of the two of them, Fotios very subtly shot his line of sight out towards the two men and back to the woman as he brought his frame back to vertical. He murmured to her as if they were having a pleasant conversation, his cup coming up to mask the shape of his lips as he spoke.
”It would appear some of your guests have indulged in the wine a little too much.” He commented; his words quiet so as not to heard. Every attempt to made at subterfuge he knew her smart enough to pick up on. He did not wish for others in the room to work out that he had been the one to notice the issue and render a solution. It was Princess Xene who would have the claim of that.
Before she could even turn to register what Fotios was implying, however, it would turn out that the Head of Leventi had waited a little too long to inform the woman of the possibility of social disaster. For social disaster was already upon them.
As the argument rose in noise, a few shouts of one calling the other a liar and how “King Zenon would turn in his grave, if he heard him now!”, the verbal sparring progressed to a single shove. The nobleman who had been assaulted was either unprepared for the strike, or he was more intoxicated than he had seemed, for he lost his balance, falling backwards into a servant who had the unfortunate timing to be walking behind the man at just the wrong moment.
Fotios found his eyes falling closed in a moment of “Gods, give me strength” as he waited for the high-pitched screech that was about to occur and… sure enough….
He opened his eyes to find the servant had lost the grip on the tray of chalices they had been carrying, tilted the entire thing sideways and had doused the entirely of their wine down the back of Nana of Leventi’s gown. From shoulder blades to trailing skirts she had been entirely soaked and her friend Gianna had taken a fair enough of the crimson as well. The two looked as if they had been losers in a battle, they were more red than they were silk.
The noise of the escapade had everyone in the room stop their conversation and turn to look, an eerie silence of suspended awkwardness hanging in the air.
Looking about, Fotios quickly made meaningful glances at both Evelli and Selene. It was likely that the both of them would be needed to quell the wrath that he suspected was brewing in Evelli’s fourth daughter. He also spotted the bard over by Lord Irakles and hissed an order at him to play something lively, gesturing to the room. This is your moment to prove your use, minstrel… Fotios thought to himself. Distract, damnit.
To the princess he had been intending to allow the chance to fix the issue before it became a mess, he now charged the clean up of said mess.
”I think those men need to leave now.” He told her, before glancing over her shoulder and making a deliberate look towards Lord Achilleas, now that he had returned to the social event, his betrothed at his side…
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The interruption to the conversation was swift. And whilst the Colchian prince managed to remain in the realms of politeness - never straying into pure rudeness or demonstrably crass mannerisms - it was clear to all present that he was dismissive of the Egyptian guest to Taengea in almost every way. The comments from the General might have been clue enough from his remarks about blood on hands; these two had clearly seen one another last from opposing sides of some kind of skirmish and such a history wasn't likely to be conducive to conversation. The second clue to the Colchian's bluntness - despite him being Colchian - was the proprietary hand he placed on the small of Fotios' niece's back as he guided her away from the conversation. Whether the man realised the possession in his touch or not, he was an unmarried and eligible man guiding a woman who had barely said two words to the visitor, away from another eligible and attractive male. He would send rumours and messages to all corners of the Taengean court with such behaviour. It certainly wasn't missed by the Egyptian who spoke of loneliness for Selene's future when journeying north to Colchis.
"I do not profess to know the ways of the Fates, Sirdar." Fotios commented as he raised his wine cup to his lips and sipped, his other hand lazing over the exposed skin of Eirini's back. "I only know of her so far lack of formal connection." The comment was quiet, and designed to do little more than inform the Sirdar that Selene was not technically betrothed to the Colchian prince. As far as he was concerned the competition between the men was only to be encouraged. Provided they didn't actually end up killing each other, it was a win-win situation for the House of Leventi. A Colchian Queen or an Egyptian Sirdett with every opportunity of becoming wife to Pharaoh. Egypt were so bloodthirsty with their grappling for the throne there was no trust or security in the current monarchy at any one time. So barbaric. Fotios' eye caught upon Irakles and he had to alter his thoughts. These days, he had to supposed that Taengea was not so different.
Smiling and nodding politely to the Master Informer of Colchis – a man named Magnus whom he had worked with and known of before this day and whom Fotios didn’t like (simply because he was very good at his job and the Head of the House of Leventi enjoyed being the smartest and most knowledgeable person in the room) – and the young Lady Imeeya of Drakos, there was hardly time to exchange proper pleasantries before Irakles was escorting the small group towards the Lady Evelli and her daughter Imma and the Lady Meena.
When the Prince moved to direct the Egyptian away from their party and lead him towards some of the other ladies of the court, Fotios hung back with his wife. The man's Greek was well enough for him to get by and his own translator was in toe. At this point, there was little the men could say that would prove politically advantageous, for they were surrounded by those of lower nobility and the fairer sex. His skills as a translator would be more valuable during any moment in which Irakles and Osorsen were alone. When the word choice was too deliberate and significant to be left to the chance of others. When mutterings between Sirdar and translator could be eavesdropped upon for further knowledge of their intentions. Here, in the middle of a swarming room of Taengean nobility, there was little the great Sirdar of Egypt could do besides smile politely and make pleasant conversation. Fotios was happy to avoid translating such drivel.
Instead, he turned to scan the room and spotted Agape appearing to comfort Melina who was apparently a little thrown off by how many people were in the room and how shocking the social situation was - not to mention the fact that Dafni was blushing to her roots and held an empty wine cup in her hand. What in the world were the girls up to now? Fotios wanted to sigh. He felt like his entire life was monitoring a series of spinning plates, lifted on the ends of poles. Every time he had one perfectly balanced and spinning quickly, another would start to slow and wobble. The wobblers always appeared to be his own daughters. With a steadying breath that cooled his initial spark of anger, he leaned down to murmur in Eirini's ear as if he were muttering something sweet and endearing.
"Our offspring are making no use of themselves." He told her, his frustration evident in his tone, before he then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in their direction. With his wife's eyes echoing his own annoyance and her ample chest rising in a simple breath that sought some form of calm for herself, Eirini left her husband's side with a stride as intentful as it was alluring. He resisted the urge to smile as his other half would handle the situation with – he knew – power and propriety.
Turning away from the sight, before he had himself dazzled and distracted, Fotios found himself now alone, in the near centre of the room - a position that he quickly took advantage of. Spinning to take up a cup of wine from a passing server, replacing its space on the tray with his empty goblet, he used the motion to assess and analyse the entire room, without any indication that he was spying on his peers.
In the single sweep he caught much that could be of use. His two nieces, Selene and Theodora had appeared at the edge of the room once more, their male counterparts returning with them. They each appeared vibrant in their expressions, Selene perhaps a little more rattled than the other. But both were elegant ladies of the court and had been trained to hide their emotions well. His thoughts flickered back to his own daughters but he truncated the idea before it could grow legs.
The second addition to the lay of the noble land that Fotios had noticed was a conversation that had rapidly turned heated between two Mikaelidas lords to the north of the room. The subject appeared to be in regards to their current king and the accusations against him, the wine clouding the viable reasoning that would have told the men to shut up upon such a subject in front of a militant diplomat from another kingdom. Luckily the men were not so close to the Sirdar that Fotios was concerned of him overhearing. Instead, the two stood close to where his and Irakles' nieces, Nana and Gianna had settled with several friends - the lady of Dimitrou and a young man of obscure heritage that Fotios had noticing hanging about the women of the Leventi family with more frequency of late. Eirini had informed him of the man's name some days ago. Basilides, he believed it was. The little group of four were buried in conversation along with the princess Xene who's gaze, Fotios managed to catch, in a moment of pure chance.
There had been no communication between the two of them since their sojourn out in his lands at the Leventi manor that had ended with a kiss. He had deliberately kept his distance from the girl for it was she who had made the approach he was not about to ruin the progress made by pushing further and having her run away from their little connection. Instead, he kept himself proprietary, polite and the perfect confidant he had been before, intending that, eventually she would break the silence between them and give in to the seduction of their little dance.
Part of playing the perfect confidant, however, would be to break that silence now, regardless of his intentions to wait...
Fotios quickly raised his cup in her direction, a few fingers extended from its body and beckoning her over. He took several steps forward, naturally indicating a meeting in the middle, away from both the large group that had assembled around Irakles and that of the small social party she had found herself attached to.
Fotios had watched how Irakles had been handling the Senate, seen how the man had basically rendered Xene's position as leader and director of the Court superfluous. Whilst it did his friendship with Irakles no harm to aid in his niece's handling of the events (for all authority within the remaining Mikaelidas House was to serve in the man's favour) it would progress his plans with the young princess herself by leaps and bounds to aid her in securing authority once more in public; regardless of Irakles’ attempts to horde it for himself.
Once he had her attention and she had crossed the room to address his concerns, Fotios allowed his gaze to shift down her dress for a moment, before it snapped back up to meet her eyes. His expression hardened and turned slightly contrite. As if he had caught himself looking at her inappropriately and regretted the action. He swallowed.
The path that Xene took to reach him, determined to avoid stepping on the gowns of the fine ladies of the sandals of the men, meant that she walked with the two arguing nobleman in her blind spot, and judging from the way the Lady Lecile was rabbiting on at a volume that was entirely unnecessary, he guessed the young princess not to have heard the argument either by the time she reached him.
With a polite bow to the princess, making it clear, before all in the room, whom he considered to have the highest authority of the two of them, Fotios very subtly shot his line of sight out towards the two men and back to the woman as he brought his frame back to vertical. He murmured to her as if they were having a pleasant conversation, his cup coming up to mask the shape of his lips as he spoke.
”It would appear some of your guests have indulged in the wine a little too much.” He commented; his words quiet so as not to heard. Every attempt to made at subterfuge he knew her smart enough to pick up on. He did not wish for others in the room to work out that he had been the one to notice the issue and render a solution. It was Princess Xene who would have the claim of that.
Before she could even turn to register what Fotios was implying, however, it would turn out that the Head of Leventi had waited a little too long to inform the woman of the possibility of social disaster. For social disaster was already upon them.
As the argument rose in noise, a few shouts of one calling the other a liar and how “King Zenon would turn in his grave, if he heard him now!”, the verbal sparring progressed to a single shove. The nobleman who had been assaulted was either unprepared for the strike, or he was more intoxicated than he had seemed, for he lost his balance, falling backwards into a servant who had the unfortunate timing to be walking behind the man at just the wrong moment.
Fotios found his eyes falling closed in a moment of “Gods, give me strength” as he waited for the high-pitched screech that was about to occur and… sure enough….
He opened his eyes to find the servant had lost the grip on the tray of chalices they had been carrying, tilted the entire thing sideways and had doused the entirely of their wine down the back of Nana of Leventi’s gown. From shoulder blades to trailing skirts she had been entirely soaked and her friend Gianna had taken a fair enough of the crimson as well. The two looked as if they had been losers in a battle, they were more red than they were silk.
The noise of the escapade had everyone in the room stop their conversation and turn to look, an eerie silence of suspended awkwardness hanging in the air.
Looking about, Fotios quickly made meaningful glances at both Evelli and Selene. It was likely that the both of them would be needed to quell the wrath that he suspected was brewing in Evelli’s fourth daughter. He also spotted the bard over by Lord Irakles and hissed an order at him to play something lively, gesturing to the room. This is your moment to prove your use, minstrel… Fotios thought to himself. Distract, damnit.
To the princess he had been intending to allow the chance to fix the issue before it became a mess, he now charged the clean up of said mess.
”I think those men need to leave now.” He told her, before glancing over her shoulder and making a deliberate look towards Lord Achilleas, now that he had returned to the social event, his betrothed at his side…
The interruption to the conversation was swift. And whilst the Colchian prince managed to remain in the realms of politeness - never straying into pure rudeness or demonstrably crass mannerisms - it was clear to all present that he was dismissive of the Egyptian guest to Taengea in almost every way. The comments from the General might have been clue enough from his remarks about blood on hands; these two had clearly seen one another last from opposing sides of some kind of skirmish and such a history wasn't likely to be conducive to conversation. The second clue to the Colchian's bluntness - despite him being Colchian - was the proprietary hand he placed on the small of Fotios' niece's back as he guided her away from the conversation. Whether the man realised the possession in his touch or not, he was an unmarried and eligible man guiding a woman who had barely said two words to the visitor, away from another eligible and attractive male. He would send rumours and messages to all corners of the Taengean court with such behaviour. It certainly wasn't missed by the Egyptian who spoke of loneliness for Selene's future when journeying north to Colchis.
"I do not profess to know the ways of the Fates, Sirdar." Fotios commented as he raised his wine cup to his lips and sipped, his other hand lazing over the exposed skin of Eirini's back. "I only know of her so far lack of formal connection." The comment was quiet, and designed to do little more than inform the Sirdar that Selene was not technically betrothed to the Colchian prince. As far as he was concerned the competition between the men was only to be encouraged. Provided they didn't actually end up killing each other, it was a win-win situation for the House of Leventi. A Colchian Queen or an Egyptian Sirdett with every opportunity of becoming wife to Pharaoh. Egypt were so bloodthirsty with their grappling for the throne there was no trust or security in the current monarchy at any one time. So barbaric. Fotios' eye caught upon Irakles and he had to alter his thoughts. These days, he had to supposed that Taengea was not so different.
Smiling and nodding politely to the Master Informer of Colchis – a man named Magnus whom he had worked with and known of before this day and whom Fotios didn’t like (simply because he was very good at his job and the Head of the House of Leventi enjoyed being the smartest and most knowledgeable person in the room) – and the young Lady Imeeya of Drakos, there was hardly time to exchange proper pleasantries before Irakles was escorting the small group towards the Lady Evelli and her daughter Imma and the Lady Meena.
When the Prince moved to direct the Egyptian away from their party and lead him towards some of the other ladies of the court, Fotios hung back with his wife. The man's Greek was well enough for him to get by and his own translator was in toe. At this point, there was little the men could say that would prove politically advantageous, for they were surrounded by those of lower nobility and the fairer sex. His skills as a translator would be more valuable during any moment in which Irakles and Osorsen were alone. When the word choice was too deliberate and significant to be left to the chance of others. When mutterings between Sirdar and translator could be eavesdropped upon for further knowledge of their intentions. Here, in the middle of a swarming room of Taengean nobility, there was little the great Sirdar of Egypt could do besides smile politely and make pleasant conversation. Fotios was happy to avoid translating such drivel.
Instead, he turned to scan the room and spotted Agape appearing to comfort Melina who was apparently a little thrown off by how many people were in the room and how shocking the social situation was - not to mention the fact that Dafni was blushing to her roots and held an empty wine cup in her hand. What in the world were the girls up to now? Fotios wanted to sigh. He felt like his entire life was monitoring a series of spinning plates, lifted on the ends of poles. Every time he had one perfectly balanced and spinning quickly, another would start to slow and wobble. The wobblers always appeared to be his own daughters. With a steadying breath that cooled his initial spark of anger, he leaned down to murmur in Eirini's ear as if he were muttering something sweet and endearing.
"Our offspring are making no use of themselves." He told her, his frustration evident in his tone, before he then raised his eyebrows and tilted his head in their direction. With his wife's eyes echoing his own annoyance and her ample chest rising in a simple breath that sought some form of calm for herself, Eirini left her husband's side with a stride as intentful as it was alluring. He resisted the urge to smile as his other half would handle the situation with – he knew – power and propriety.
Turning away from the sight, before he had himself dazzled and distracted, Fotios found himself now alone, in the near centre of the room - a position that he quickly took advantage of. Spinning to take up a cup of wine from a passing server, replacing its space on the tray with his empty goblet, he used the motion to assess and analyse the entire room, without any indication that he was spying on his peers.
In the single sweep he caught much that could be of use. His two nieces, Selene and Theodora had appeared at the edge of the room once more, their male counterparts returning with them. They each appeared vibrant in their expressions, Selene perhaps a little more rattled than the other. But both were elegant ladies of the court and had been trained to hide their emotions well. His thoughts flickered back to his own daughters but he truncated the idea before it could grow legs.
The second addition to the lay of the noble land that Fotios had noticed was a conversation that had rapidly turned heated between two Mikaelidas lords to the north of the room. The subject appeared to be in regards to their current king and the accusations against him, the wine clouding the viable reasoning that would have told the men to shut up upon such a subject in front of a militant diplomat from another kingdom. Luckily the men were not so close to the Sirdar that Fotios was concerned of him overhearing. Instead, the two stood close to where his and Irakles' nieces, Nana and Gianna had settled with several friends - the lady of Dimitrou and a young man of obscure heritage that Fotios had noticing hanging about the women of the Leventi family with more frequency of late. Eirini had informed him of the man's name some days ago. Basilides, he believed it was. The little group of four were buried in conversation along with the princess Xene who's gaze, Fotios managed to catch, in a moment of pure chance.
There had been no communication between the two of them since their sojourn out in his lands at the Leventi manor that had ended with a kiss. He had deliberately kept his distance from the girl for it was she who had made the approach he was not about to ruin the progress made by pushing further and having her run away from their little connection. Instead, he kept himself proprietary, polite and the perfect confidant he had been before, intending that, eventually she would break the silence between them and give in to the seduction of their little dance.
Part of playing the perfect confidant, however, would be to break that silence now, regardless of his intentions to wait...
Fotios quickly raised his cup in her direction, a few fingers extended from its body and beckoning her over. He took several steps forward, naturally indicating a meeting in the middle, away from both the large group that had assembled around Irakles and that of the small social party she had found herself attached to.
Fotios had watched how Irakles had been handling the Senate, seen how the man had basically rendered Xene's position as leader and director of the Court superfluous. Whilst it did his friendship with Irakles no harm to aid in his niece's handling of the events (for all authority within the remaining Mikaelidas House was to serve in the man's favour) it would progress his plans with the young princess herself by leaps and bounds to aid her in securing authority once more in public; regardless of Irakles’ attempts to horde it for himself.
Once he had her attention and she had crossed the room to address his concerns, Fotios allowed his gaze to shift down her dress for a moment, before it snapped back up to meet her eyes. His expression hardened and turned slightly contrite. As if he had caught himself looking at her inappropriately and regretted the action. He swallowed.
The path that Xene took to reach him, determined to avoid stepping on the gowns of the fine ladies of the sandals of the men, meant that she walked with the two arguing nobleman in her blind spot, and judging from the way the Lady Lecile was rabbiting on at a volume that was entirely unnecessary, he guessed the young princess not to have heard the argument either by the time she reached him.
With a polite bow to the princess, making it clear, before all in the room, whom he considered to have the highest authority of the two of them, Fotios very subtly shot his line of sight out towards the two men and back to the woman as he brought his frame back to vertical. He murmured to her as if they were having a pleasant conversation, his cup coming up to mask the shape of his lips as he spoke.
”It would appear some of your guests have indulged in the wine a little too much.” He commented; his words quiet so as not to heard. Every attempt to made at subterfuge he knew her smart enough to pick up on. He did not wish for others in the room to work out that he had been the one to notice the issue and render a solution. It was Princess Xene who would have the claim of that.
Before she could even turn to register what Fotios was implying, however, it would turn out that the Head of Leventi had waited a little too long to inform the woman of the possibility of social disaster. For social disaster was already upon them.
As the argument rose in noise, a few shouts of one calling the other a liar and how “King Zenon would turn in his grave, if he heard him now!”, the verbal sparring progressed to a single shove. The nobleman who had been assaulted was either unprepared for the strike, or he was more intoxicated than he had seemed, for he lost his balance, falling backwards into a servant who had the unfortunate timing to be walking behind the man at just the wrong moment.
Fotios found his eyes falling closed in a moment of “Gods, give me strength” as he waited for the high-pitched screech that was about to occur and… sure enough….
He opened his eyes to find the servant had lost the grip on the tray of chalices they had been carrying, tilted the entire thing sideways and had doused the entirely of their wine down the back of Nana of Leventi’s gown. From shoulder blades to trailing skirts she had been entirely soaked and her friend Gianna had taken a fair enough of the crimson as well. The two looked as if they had been losers in a battle, they were more red than they were silk.
The noise of the escapade had everyone in the room stop their conversation and turn to look, an eerie silence of suspended awkwardness hanging in the air.
Looking about, Fotios quickly made meaningful glances at both Evelli and Selene. It was likely that the both of them would be needed to quell the wrath that he suspected was brewing in Evelli’s fourth daughter. He also spotted the bard over by Lord Irakles and hissed an order at him to play something lively, gesturing to the room. This is your moment to prove your use, minstrel… Fotios thought to himself. Distract, damnit.
To the princess he had been intending to allow the chance to fix the issue before it became a mess, he now charged the clean up of said mess.
”I think those men need to leave now.” He told her, before glancing over her shoulder and making a deliberate look towards Lord Achilleas, now that he had returned to the social event, his betrothed at his side…
With the princess so intent on the budding conversation between herself, her sister, Lady Nana, and the merchant Basilides, her attention had not been on the rest of the room. Not as it likely should have been. The princess liked to think herself aware of everything going on in even a location as big as this, but the days past of drinking herself into a stupor had left her feeling less than herself. For a moment, she thought back to how well her mother used to command a room. As if she had eyes in the back of her head in order to catch any trouble before it could boil over.
Xene did not have that, and all of her birds would not be useful in a situation such as this. It only took one glance up about the room, in an effort to avoid the movements of Lord Fotios, for her to catch the man’s eye. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow slightly to keep her composure. Because Fotios was silently motioning her over with a movement that few would notice. But she knew him well. What others would not notice of the man in the shadows, she had simply grown accustomed to. The small motions, the slight changes in expression, or the extra little glint in his eye.
And despite her own reservations about approaching after having embarrassed herself only days before, Xene was not one to outright disobey what looked to be a formal request. He was, after all, still her main confidant in all of this. The one person she felt as if she could truly trust in a Palati full of wolves, lions, and barbarians. Truly, her uncle was an unwieldy brute and one day she would ensure he knew it.
Turning her gaze briefly back to her small social group, the princess gave one delicate and respectful bow to both her sister and Lady Nana. “I must excuse myself,” Xene said, keeping her voice at a more docile, respectable level. “Please, remain and mingle,” her fingers brushed down Gianna’s arm, briefly twining her fingers with her younger sister’s in a signal of comfort before she gave a smiling apology to Nana and Basilides and turned away from the group. Breaking the contact she had just had with Gianna was almost gut wrenching after the last few days. There was a constant worry, question, of whether or not each time she saw her sister would be her last.
Navigating through the lords and ladies of the court, she was careful with her steps. The last thing she wanted was to step on a gown or a man’s foot. She would need to speak with Lady Lecile about what she considered to be an indoor, courtly voice. This would not do if she were to continue to hold court in this manner. A slight lift of her chin was the only greeting that she gave Fotios as she came to stand before him, gracefully lifting a goblet from a tray that passed as she came to a stop before him.
With her own goblet to her lips, Xene carefully glanced slightly to the side to try and catch sight of the warring nobles. Of course they would show their immaturity on a day where appearances mattered the most. And in such a crass, uncouth, and irresponsible way. As if the Kingdom wasn’t struggling to appear unified at every turn, now her own nobles were fighting with one another about what honestly seemed to be both important and trivial considering their present company. Important because they were fighting over the validity of the senate decision, but trivial because at that very moment, the Egyptian Sirdar was watching and evaluating the stability of the Taengean court.
The physical violence was entirely unnecessary, damaging, and damning all at once. The servant carrying wine for all of the guests gave a shriek and Xene turned sharply just in time to see all of the wine spill down both Nana of Leventi and her own sister. It took every effort not to storm over there like a stallion ready to buck at a moment’s notice. Instead, Xene took a calm, steadying breath and turned her gaze back to Lord Fotios. Carefully, she lifted her goblet to him as he spoke once more, her blue gaze flashing with an expression of thanks. “If you will, Lord Fotios,” Xene spoke firmly, passing her own goblet off to him before she turned to face the situation head on.
“My lords,” Xene’s voice was all command, leaving no space for anyone else in the room to cut in on her and steal any sort of spotlight. Her steps were both swift and graceful, and Heron was only two steps behind her at any given time. Her shadow in all things as of late. Her previous guards had been less than useful. Heron she trusted with her life and to refrain from arguing any order she gave him. His stance was firm and his gaze hard and critical as the two men broke apart suddenly, staring wildly up at the severe expression of the eldest princess of Taengea.
“It is my understanding that we are at court,” she noted in an even tone, motioning about the room and to everyone standing around them. “Are we not?” Slow nods of affirmation was all that Xene earned for her trouble, but that didn’t stop her, “I must ask you if your behavior here is suitable for such a location? Perhaps you should take your squabbles to a tavern?” One rose to speak up but Xene lifted her hand, silencing him without saying a word. “Lord Achilleas,” Xene noted, having seen the pointed glance from Fotios toward her cousin, “Heron,” she glanced behind her, “I would ask that the two of you remove these lords from court before they further their foolery.”
Heron did not hesitate, stepping forward and taking one of the men by the arm to escort him directly from court. Xene did not take her eyes off either man until they were both escorted from the premises, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. One of the servants lingering close by, stunned by the events of the last few moments, jumped when Xene snapped her fingers at the woman. She pointed to the puddle of wine, having to say absolutely nothing by way of what she expected done with the mess.
Noting that both her sister and Lady Nana were being tended to, Xene gave a single steady but challenging look to everyone in the room, especially her Uncle and Meena, who she blatantly refused to call ‘Lady’. The thought that Meena was the leader of this court was an absolute joke. Whores and mistresses, non-noble ones at that, did not truly have a place here. The flagrant flaunting of Meena in the court, in front of Irakles’ own wife, was absolutely shameful, and Xene would yield nothing to her. She lifted her chin in sheer defiance of the spare Prince parading the Egyptian guests around before turning on her heel once more. Both hands once more settled at her back, she approached Lord Fotios again, holding her hand out for her goblet of wine and offering him her arm and her full attention from that point on.
Quiet enough that only he would hear her, Xene lifted her cup to her lips as she spoke, “I apologize that we were interrupted, my lord. Was there something you needed to speak with me about?” and then, “You always come to my rescue at the right moments. We’ve spoken about this Lord Fotios,” there was humor in her voice, “I feel like you’re watching me.”
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With the princess so intent on the budding conversation between herself, her sister, Lady Nana, and the merchant Basilides, her attention had not been on the rest of the room. Not as it likely should have been. The princess liked to think herself aware of everything going on in even a location as big as this, but the days past of drinking herself into a stupor had left her feeling less than herself. For a moment, she thought back to how well her mother used to command a room. As if she had eyes in the back of her head in order to catch any trouble before it could boil over.
Xene did not have that, and all of her birds would not be useful in a situation such as this. It only took one glance up about the room, in an effort to avoid the movements of Lord Fotios, for her to catch the man’s eye. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow slightly to keep her composure. Because Fotios was silently motioning her over with a movement that few would notice. But she knew him well. What others would not notice of the man in the shadows, she had simply grown accustomed to. The small motions, the slight changes in expression, or the extra little glint in his eye.
And despite her own reservations about approaching after having embarrassed herself only days before, Xene was not one to outright disobey what looked to be a formal request. He was, after all, still her main confidant in all of this. The one person she felt as if she could truly trust in a Palati full of wolves, lions, and barbarians. Truly, her uncle was an unwieldy brute and one day she would ensure he knew it.
Turning her gaze briefly back to her small social group, the princess gave one delicate and respectful bow to both her sister and Lady Nana. “I must excuse myself,” Xene said, keeping her voice at a more docile, respectable level. “Please, remain and mingle,” her fingers brushed down Gianna’s arm, briefly twining her fingers with her younger sister’s in a signal of comfort before she gave a smiling apology to Nana and Basilides and turned away from the group. Breaking the contact she had just had with Gianna was almost gut wrenching after the last few days. There was a constant worry, question, of whether or not each time she saw her sister would be her last.
Navigating through the lords and ladies of the court, she was careful with her steps. The last thing she wanted was to step on a gown or a man’s foot. She would need to speak with Lady Lecile about what she considered to be an indoor, courtly voice. This would not do if she were to continue to hold court in this manner. A slight lift of her chin was the only greeting that she gave Fotios as she came to stand before him, gracefully lifting a goblet from a tray that passed as she came to a stop before him.
With her own goblet to her lips, Xene carefully glanced slightly to the side to try and catch sight of the warring nobles. Of course they would show their immaturity on a day where appearances mattered the most. And in such a crass, uncouth, and irresponsible way. As if the Kingdom wasn’t struggling to appear unified at every turn, now her own nobles were fighting with one another about what honestly seemed to be both important and trivial considering their present company. Important because they were fighting over the validity of the senate decision, but trivial because at that very moment, the Egyptian Sirdar was watching and evaluating the stability of the Taengean court.
The physical violence was entirely unnecessary, damaging, and damning all at once. The servant carrying wine for all of the guests gave a shriek and Xene turned sharply just in time to see all of the wine spill down both Nana of Leventi and her own sister. It took every effort not to storm over there like a stallion ready to buck at a moment’s notice. Instead, Xene took a calm, steadying breath and turned her gaze back to Lord Fotios. Carefully, she lifted her goblet to him as he spoke once more, her blue gaze flashing with an expression of thanks. “If you will, Lord Fotios,” Xene spoke firmly, passing her own goblet off to him before she turned to face the situation head on.
“My lords,” Xene’s voice was all command, leaving no space for anyone else in the room to cut in on her and steal any sort of spotlight. Her steps were both swift and graceful, and Heron was only two steps behind her at any given time. Her shadow in all things as of late. Her previous guards had been less than useful. Heron she trusted with her life and to refrain from arguing any order she gave him. His stance was firm and his gaze hard and critical as the two men broke apart suddenly, staring wildly up at the severe expression of the eldest princess of Taengea.
“It is my understanding that we are at court,” she noted in an even tone, motioning about the room and to everyone standing around them. “Are we not?” Slow nods of affirmation was all that Xene earned for her trouble, but that didn’t stop her, “I must ask you if your behavior here is suitable for such a location? Perhaps you should take your squabbles to a tavern?” One rose to speak up but Xene lifted her hand, silencing him without saying a word. “Lord Achilleas,” Xene noted, having seen the pointed glance from Fotios toward her cousin, “Heron,” she glanced behind her, “I would ask that the two of you remove these lords from court before they further their foolery.”
Heron did not hesitate, stepping forward and taking one of the men by the arm to escort him directly from court. Xene did not take her eyes off either man until they were both escorted from the premises, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. One of the servants lingering close by, stunned by the events of the last few moments, jumped when Xene snapped her fingers at the woman. She pointed to the puddle of wine, having to say absolutely nothing by way of what she expected done with the mess.
Noting that both her sister and Lady Nana were being tended to, Xene gave a single steady but challenging look to everyone in the room, especially her Uncle and Meena, who she blatantly refused to call ‘Lady’. The thought that Meena was the leader of this court was an absolute joke. Whores and mistresses, non-noble ones at that, did not truly have a place here. The flagrant flaunting of Meena in the court, in front of Irakles’ own wife, was absolutely shameful, and Xene would yield nothing to her. She lifted her chin in sheer defiance of the spare Prince parading the Egyptian guests around before turning on her heel once more. Both hands once more settled at her back, she approached Lord Fotios again, holding her hand out for her goblet of wine and offering him her arm and her full attention from that point on.
Quiet enough that only he would hear her, Xene lifted her cup to her lips as she spoke, “I apologize that we were interrupted, my lord. Was there something you needed to speak with me about?” and then, “You always come to my rescue at the right moments. We’ve spoken about this Lord Fotios,” there was humor in her voice, “I feel like you’re watching me.”
With the princess so intent on the budding conversation between herself, her sister, Lady Nana, and the merchant Basilides, her attention had not been on the rest of the room. Not as it likely should have been. The princess liked to think herself aware of everything going on in even a location as big as this, but the days past of drinking herself into a stupor had left her feeling less than herself. For a moment, she thought back to how well her mother used to command a room. As if she had eyes in the back of her head in order to catch any trouble before it could boil over.
Xene did not have that, and all of her birds would not be useful in a situation such as this. It only took one glance up about the room, in an effort to avoid the movements of Lord Fotios, for her to catch the man’s eye. For a moment, her breath caught in her throat and she had to swallow slightly to keep her composure. Because Fotios was silently motioning her over with a movement that few would notice. But she knew him well. What others would not notice of the man in the shadows, she had simply grown accustomed to. The small motions, the slight changes in expression, or the extra little glint in his eye.
And despite her own reservations about approaching after having embarrassed herself only days before, Xene was not one to outright disobey what looked to be a formal request. He was, after all, still her main confidant in all of this. The one person she felt as if she could truly trust in a Palati full of wolves, lions, and barbarians. Truly, her uncle was an unwieldy brute and one day she would ensure he knew it.
Turning her gaze briefly back to her small social group, the princess gave one delicate and respectful bow to both her sister and Lady Nana. “I must excuse myself,” Xene said, keeping her voice at a more docile, respectable level. “Please, remain and mingle,” her fingers brushed down Gianna’s arm, briefly twining her fingers with her younger sister’s in a signal of comfort before she gave a smiling apology to Nana and Basilides and turned away from the group. Breaking the contact she had just had with Gianna was almost gut wrenching after the last few days. There was a constant worry, question, of whether or not each time she saw her sister would be her last.
Navigating through the lords and ladies of the court, she was careful with her steps. The last thing she wanted was to step on a gown or a man’s foot. She would need to speak with Lady Lecile about what she considered to be an indoor, courtly voice. This would not do if she were to continue to hold court in this manner. A slight lift of her chin was the only greeting that she gave Fotios as she came to stand before him, gracefully lifting a goblet from a tray that passed as she came to a stop before him.
With her own goblet to her lips, Xene carefully glanced slightly to the side to try and catch sight of the warring nobles. Of course they would show their immaturity on a day where appearances mattered the most. And in such a crass, uncouth, and irresponsible way. As if the Kingdom wasn’t struggling to appear unified at every turn, now her own nobles were fighting with one another about what honestly seemed to be both important and trivial considering their present company. Important because they were fighting over the validity of the senate decision, but trivial because at that very moment, the Egyptian Sirdar was watching and evaluating the stability of the Taengean court.
The physical violence was entirely unnecessary, damaging, and damning all at once. The servant carrying wine for all of the guests gave a shriek and Xene turned sharply just in time to see all of the wine spill down both Nana of Leventi and her own sister. It took every effort not to storm over there like a stallion ready to buck at a moment’s notice. Instead, Xene took a calm, steadying breath and turned her gaze back to Lord Fotios. Carefully, she lifted her goblet to him as he spoke once more, her blue gaze flashing with an expression of thanks. “If you will, Lord Fotios,” Xene spoke firmly, passing her own goblet off to him before she turned to face the situation head on.
“My lords,” Xene’s voice was all command, leaving no space for anyone else in the room to cut in on her and steal any sort of spotlight. Her steps were both swift and graceful, and Heron was only two steps behind her at any given time. Her shadow in all things as of late. Her previous guards had been less than useful. Heron she trusted with her life and to refrain from arguing any order she gave him. His stance was firm and his gaze hard and critical as the two men broke apart suddenly, staring wildly up at the severe expression of the eldest princess of Taengea.
“It is my understanding that we are at court,” she noted in an even tone, motioning about the room and to everyone standing around them. “Are we not?” Slow nods of affirmation was all that Xene earned for her trouble, but that didn’t stop her, “I must ask you if your behavior here is suitable for such a location? Perhaps you should take your squabbles to a tavern?” One rose to speak up but Xene lifted her hand, silencing him without saying a word. “Lord Achilleas,” Xene noted, having seen the pointed glance from Fotios toward her cousin, “Heron,” she glanced behind her, “I would ask that the two of you remove these lords from court before they further their foolery.”
Heron did not hesitate, stepping forward and taking one of the men by the arm to escort him directly from court. Xene did not take her eyes off either man until they were both escorted from the premises, her hands clasped firmly behind her back. One of the servants lingering close by, stunned by the events of the last few moments, jumped when Xene snapped her fingers at the woman. She pointed to the puddle of wine, having to say absolutely nothing by way of what she expected done with the mess.
Noting that both her sister and Lady Nana were being tended to, Xene gave a single steady but challenging look to everyone in the room, especially her Uncle and Meena, who she blatantly refused to call ‘Lady’. The thought that Meena was the leader of this court was an absolute joke. Whores and mistresses, non-noble ones at that, did not truly have a place here. The flagrant flaunting of Meena in the court, in front of Irakles’ own wife, was absolutely shameful, and Xene would yield nothing to her. She lifted her chin in sheer defiance of the spare Prince parading the Egyptian guests around before turning on her heel once more. Both hands once more settled at her back, she approached Lord Fotios again, holding her hand out for her goblet of wine and offering him her arm and her full attention from that point on.
Quiet enough that only he would hear her, Xene lifted her cup to her lips as she spoke, “I apologize that we were interrupted, my lord. Was there something you needed to speak with me about?” and then, “You always come to my rescue at the right moments. We’ve spoken about this Lord Fotios,” there was humor in her voice, “I feel like you’re watching me.”
Selene was still attempting to pry from him his plans in how he would aid her sister, but he wasn't about to share them with her now. He needed time. Time to plan and time to work out the logistics of how he would go about ensuring his ability to help her and her family without royally offending or bringing disaster to his own. He couldn't allow the line of Kotas, nor the kingdom of Colchis, to suffer through his actions, if his decision to aid in the rescue of a King claimed as traitor to his nation was ever discovered. It all needed to be handled with complete secrecy and careful planning. Luckily, Vangelis had had years upon years of holding his emotions and thoughts deep within and his expression betrayed nothing when he and Selene made it back into the Gallery, forcing the woman to still in her determination to probe his thoughts further.
As they entered the Great Gallery, Vangelis spotted another couple following the same process of re-joining society through a second door. The appearance of Lady Theodora and her intended Lord Achilleas had Vangelis realise that he should probably speak to the girl; inform her that he had come up with a plan that would allow him to fulfil the request she had made to him in secret the previous night. If one Leventi daughter was willing to put her life at risk for the sake of her sibling, he didn't need two being reckless and self-sacrifical. The Leventis would have no daughters left by the end of it!
His jaw tightening as he gave Selene a sharp look, an expression that told her to do nothing that she had mentioned planning until he could attempt to free her sister and brother-in-law himself, Vangelis was ready to extricate himself from her company and head over to her sister when there was a loud noise of feminine outrage erupting from the other end of the room that had everyone in attendance stopping and turning.
Every muscle in Vangelis' body stopped and hardened, his hand falling to a sword that was not there at his waist - he had not been permitted his weapons in the Court - and his eyes scanning the room for whatever dangers had caused the disturbance. It turned out that no such vigilance was needed, however.
It wasn't long before a few key members of the Court were moving around and the Head of the House of Leventi was summoning for music. Vangelis was fairly certain such an action would not happen if the cry had been one of pain rather than social humiliation. The instruction to the musician was followed by a sturdy look in their direction that had Selene being the one to leave his side rather than the other way around.
With a light bow of polite farewell of her company, Vangelis attempted to not let his gaze linger in any way that might suggest a deeper conversation back in the abandoned corridor than some kind of friendly overture. The hope might have been a foolish one but it was there all the same.
With his companion summoned to help her family, Vangelis waited a few moments, witnessing the princess of the kingdom - Xene, her name was - handle the event by directing her cousin to evict those responsible. Soon, Vangelis was standing only a few feet away from Theodora, who had been left as alone as he had. Taking the opportunity to move to her side in a manner that looked almost casual - for they were two alone at a social event and moving towards one another was a natural step to be made - Vangelis was able to lean down to murmur to her, at a volume low enough that no-one else would here.
"Your request..." He told her, quietly. "Do not smile at this. You will draw attention. But... I have a way. I am able to do as you asked of me."
The words spoken and his decision made, Vangelis stood back up to his full height and offered her a small, half smile - the kind he only ever showed, and even then rarely. Such a mark of friendship was well enough, but his comment to her had been to stop her from eliciting a look too severe for their limited acquaintance.
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Selene was still attempting to pry from him his plans in how he would aid her sister, but he wasn't about to share them with her now. He needed time. Time to plan and time to work out the logistics of how he would go about ensuring his ability to help her and her family without royally offending or bringing disaster to his own. He couldn't allow the line of Kotas, nor the kingdom of Colchis, to suffer through his actions, if his decision to aid in the rescue of a King claimed as traitor to his nation was ever discovered. It all needed to be handled with complete secrecy and careful planning. Luckily, Vangelis had had years upon years of holding his emotions and thoughts deep within and his expression betrayed nothing when he and Selene made it back into the Gallery, forcing the woman to still in her determination to probe his thoughts further.
As they entered the Great Gallery, Vangelis spotted another couple following the same process of re-joining society through a second door. The appearance of Lady Theodora and her intended Lord Achilleas had Vangelis realise that he should probably speak to the girl; inform her that he had come up with a plan that would allow him to fulfil the request she had made to him in secret the previous night. If one Leventi daughter was willing to put her life at risk for the sake of her sibling, he didn't need two being reckless and self-sacrifical. The Leventis would have no daughters left by the end of it!
His jaw tightening as he gave Selene a sharp look, an expression that told her to do nothing that she had mentioned planning until he could attempt to free her sister and brother-in-law himself, Vangelis was ready to extricate himself from her company and head over to her sister when there was a loud noise of feminine outrage erupting from the other end of the room that had everyone in attendance stopping and turning.
Every muscle in Vangelis' body stopped and hardened, his hand falling to a sword that was not there at his waist - he had not been permitted his weapons in the Court - and his eyes scanning the room for whatever dangers had caused the disturbance. It turned out that no such vigilance was needed, however.
It wasn't long before a few key members of the Court were moving around and the Head of the House of Leventi was summoning for music. Vangelis was fairly certain such an action would not happen if the cry had been one of pain rather than social humiliation. The instruction to the musician was followed by a sturdy look in their direction that had Selene being the one to leave his side rather than the other way around.
With a light bow of polite farewell of her company, Vangelis attempted to not let his gaze linger in any way that might suggest a deeper conversation back in the abandoned corridor than some kind of friendly overture. The hope might have been a foolish one but it was there all the same.
With his companion summoned to help her family, Vangelis waited a few moments, witnessing the princess of the kingdom - Xene, her name was - handle the event by directing her cousin to evict those responsible. Soon, Vangelis was standing only a few feet away from Theodora, who had been left as alone as he had. Taking the opportunity to move to her side in a manner that looked almost casual - for they were two alone at a social event and moving towards one another was a natural step to be made - Vangelis was able to lean down to murmur to her, at a volume low enough that no-one else would here.
"Your request..." He told her, quietly. "Do not smile at this. You will draw attention. But... I have a way. I am able to do as you asked of me."
The words spoken and his decision made, Vangelis stood back up to his full height and offered her a small, half smile - the kind he only ever showed, and even then rarely. Such a mark of friendship was well enough, but his comment to her had been to stop her from eliciting a look too severe for their limited acquaintance.
Selene was still attempting to pry from him his plans in how he would aid her sister, but he wasn't about to share them with her now. He needed time. Time to plan and time to work out the logistics of how he would go about ensuring his ability to help her and her family without royally offending or bringing disaster to his own. He couldn't allow the line of Kotas, nor the kingdom of Colchis, to suffer through his actions, if his decision to aid in the rescue of a King claimed as traitor to his nation was ever discovered. It all needed to be handled with complete secrecy and careful planning. Luckily, Vangelis had had years upon years of holding his emotions and thoughts deep within and his expression betrayed nothing when he and Selene made it back into the Gallery, forcing the woman to still in her determination to probe his thoughts further.
As they entered the Great Gallery, Vangelis spotted another couple following the same process of re-joining society through a second door. The appearance of Lady Theodora and her intended Lord Achilleas had Vangelis realise that he should probably speak to the girl; inform her that he had come up with a plan that would allow him to fulfil the request she had made to him in secret the previous night. If one Leventi daughter was willing to put her life at risk for the sake of her sibling, he didn't need two being reckless and self-sacrifical. The Leventis would have no daughters left by the end of it!
His jaw tightening as he gave Selene a sharp look, an expression that told her to do nothing that she had mentioned planning until he could attempt to free her sister and brother-in-law himself, Vangelis was ready to extricate himself from her company and head over to her sister when there was a loud noise of feminine outrage erupting from the other end of the room that had everyone in attendance stopping and turning.
Every muscle in Vangelis' body stopped and hardened, his hand falling to a sword that was not there at his waist - he had not been permitted his weapons in the Court - and his eyes scanning the room for whatever dangers had caused the disturbance. It turned out that no such vigilance was needed, however.
It wasn't long before a few key members of the Court were moving around and the Head of the House of Leventi was summoning for music. Vangelis was fairly certain such an action would not happen if the cry had been one of pain rather than social humiliation. The instruction to the musician was followed by a sturdy look in their direction that had Selene being the one to leave his side rather than the other way around.
With a light bow of polite farewell of her company, Vangelis attempted to not let his gaze linger in any way that might suggest a deeper conversation back in the abandoned corridor than some kind of friendly overture. The hope might have been a foolish one but it was there all the same.
With his companion summoned to help her family, Vangelis waited a few moments, witnessing the princess of the kingdom - Xene, her name was - handle the event by directing her cousin to evict those responsible. Soon, Vangelis was standing only a few feet away from Theodora, who had been left as alone as he had. Taking the opportunity to move to her side in a manner that looked almost casual - for they were two alone at a social event and moving towards one another was a natural step to be made - Vangelis was able to lean down to murmur to her, at a volume low enough that no-one else would here.
"Your request..." He told her, quietly. "Do not smile at this. You will draw attention. But... I have a way. I am able to do as you asked of me."
The words spoken and his decision made, Vangelis stood back up to his full height and offered her a small, half smile - the kind he only ever showed, and even then rarely. Such a mark of friendship was well enough, but his comment to her had been to stop her from eliciting a look too severe for their limited acquaintance.
Gavriil of Dimitrou’s laconic answer was cause for the corner of her lips to twitch in movement; an almost smile but not quite. Biting down on the bottom on her lip and a nod of her head. In her limited experience, it was those who were the quietest who had the loudest minds, whether it was with horses or people. She didn’t press forward like so many people did. She’d asked, he’d offered his reply, and she’d leave it at that. Pressing forward would only draw awkwardness from any future conversation of that subject and she had not anything to add to her question about his family.
The question about the horses though seemed to cause a bit more of a reaction from him as he glanced at her.
‘Not so fine as your father’s.’
She offered a faint, but almost wry smile back at him and his almost too polite smile, and softly dropped her eyes from him. Evangelina knew she had to be careful… she could school her face all she wanted to keep her thoughts from showing but it was her eyes that gave everything away. Every thought. Every feeling seemed to just leak out of her. It was a damned nuisance.
“Mmmm… I will pass your compliment along to my father.” The pint-sized Leventi’s lips pursed and she grew silent.
Out on the balcony, the tension seemed to float away on the soft breeze. She leaned over the railing slightly peering down at the ground and staring at nothing in particular. When Gavriil spoke again, this time offering up the most she’d ever heard him say at one time.
‘You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty-bound to intervene.’
She didn’t lift her head to look at him after he’d offered her the words but she did smile. A softly dimpled sort with a hint of knowing. Did he realize he’d given a piece of himself away to her then and there? A man famed for his hunting prowess was comfortable, confident, even gentle enough to rescue an ensnared doe. He’d offered a little and in return, she did the same.
“I felt a bit like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. That’s not exactly the best place to be when the wolves are circling either.” Her her tilted and she regarded him with an odd and undecipherable look before looking back to the ground on the other side of the balcony. “But it’s not always the wolves that are seen that do the most harm, you know…” Her voice trailed off in an unfinished thought that wouldn’t make its way to words, at least not yet and not to someone as perceptive as the man next to her.
Evangelina let the comfortable silence wash between them, tilting her head upwards and closing her eyes against the unforgiving Taengean sun, allowing herself a moment to bask in it.
“Can I ask you a question?” She didn’t bother opening her eyes or pulling her face away from the sunlight, nor did she give him time to answer that question since it was rhetorical. “You felt duty-bound to intervene. Why?” That was the moment she picked to turn and let her darkened honey eyes settle onto him. “You are renowned for your skill as a hunter if anything I would have expected you to sit back and await the final blow.” Could he see that she had already worked the answer out for herself? He might have been a hunter but he was no wolf determined to rip her to shreds. It created a curiosity in her striking features. Dropping her eyes, she smiled, more to herself than to him and looked back to the ground. “I don’t suppose you have to answer that after all.”
She was quiet again for a moment, her fingers gripping the railing as she leaned her weight against it. She felt herself decompressing from her little escapade… she felt like she’d been the center stage star in a three-ring troupe. After a moment, she bit her lip again as she gathered her thoughts before she spoke and when she did there was a soft but all too knowing vibe in her voice.
“Fine horses are only fine in the right hands and too often they end up in the wrong hands.” She spared him a glance and continued. “People flock to prettiness or the right bloodlines for whatever reasons, but a fine horse in incompetent hands… they are no finer than the average horse pulling a milk cart in the square. Pretty is as pretty does.” It was hard to tell if she were talking about horses or people or maybe both. She bit her bottom lip again and this time met his gaze squarely. “A ‘not as fine’ horse in the right hands will always trump a fine horse in the wrong hands.” With a purposeful softness to her, “My lord, if I may, it’s not the horse that makes the man but rather the man that makes the horse.”
Shifting again and feeling like she’d said enough to make her point, she leaned her weight against the railing once again and stared down into the ground at nothing in particular again a soft dimpled smile on her lips. Yes, she’d needed an escape outside but she was wondering if it was the company that was better than space from the scrutiny that lay waiting inside.
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Gavriil of Dimitrou’s laconic answer was cause for the corner of her lips to twitch in movement; an almost smile but not quite. Biting down on the bottom on her lip and a nod of her head. In her limited experience, it was those who were the quietest who had the loudest minds, whether it was with horses or people. She didn’t press forward like so many people did. She’d asked, he’d offered his reply, and she’d leave it at that. Pressing forward would only draw awkwardness from any future conversation of that subject and she had not anything to add to her question about his family.
The question about the horses though seemed to cause a bit more of a reaction from him as he glanced at her.
‘Not so fine as your father’s.’
She offered a faint, but almost wry smile back at him and his almost too polite smile, and softly dropped her eyes from him. Evangelina knew she had to be careful… she could school her face all she wanted to keep her thoughts from showing but it was her eyes that gave everything away. Every thought. Every feeling seemed to just leak out of her. It was a damned nuisance.
“Mmmm… I will pass your compliment along to my father.” The pint-sized Leventi’s lips pursed and she grew silent.
Out on the balcony, the tension seemed to float away on the soft breeze. She leaned over the railing slightly peering down at the ground and staring at nothing in particular. When Gavriil spoke again, this time offering up the most she’d ever heard him say at one time.
‘You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty-bound to intervene.’
She didn’t lift her head to look at him after he’d offered her the words but she did smile. A softly dimpled sort with a hint of knowing. Did he realize he’d given a piece of himself away to her then and there? A man famed for his hunting prowess was comfortable, confident, even gentle enough to rescue an ensnared doe. He’d offered a little and in return, she did the same.
“I felt a bit like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. That’s not exactly the best place to be when the wolves are circling either.” Her her tilted and she regarded him with an odd and undecipherable look before looking back to the ground on the other side of the balcony. “But it’s not always the wolves that are seen that do the most harm, you know…” Her voice trailed off in an unfinished thought that wouldn’t make its way to words, at least not yet and not to someone as perceptive as the man next to her.
Evangelina let the comfortable silence wash between them, tilting her head upwards and closing her eyes against the unforgiving Taengean sun, allowing herself a moment to bask in it.
“Can I ask you a question?” She didn’t bother opening her eyes or pulling her face away from the sunlight, nor did she give him time to answer that question since it was rhetorical. “You felt duty-bound to intervene. Why?” That was the moment she picked to turn and let her darkened honey eyes settle onto him. “You are renowned for your skill as a hunter if anything I would have expected you to sit back and await the final blow.” Could he see that she had already worked the answer out for herself? He might have been a hunter but he was no wolf determined to rip her to shreds. It created a curiosity in her striking features. Dropping her eyes, she smiled, more to herself than to him and looked back to the ground. “I don’t suppose you have to answer that after all.”
She was quiet again for a moment, her fingers gripping the railing as she leaned her weight against it. She felt herself decompressing from her little escapade… she felt like she’d been the center stage star in a three-ring troupe. After a moment, she bit her lip again as she gathered her thoughts before she spoke and when she did there was a soft but all too knowing vibe in her voice.
“Fine horses are only fine in the right hands and too often they end up in the wrong hands.” She spared him a glance and continued. “People flock to prettiness or the right bloodlines for whatever reasons, but a fine horse in incompetent hands… they are no finer than the average horse pulling a milk cart in the square. Pretty is as pretty does.” It was hard to tell if she were talking about horses or people or maybe both. She bit her bottom lip again and this time met his gaze squarely. “A ‘not as fine’ horse in the right hands will always trump a fine horse in the wrong hands.” With a purposeful softness to her, “My lord, if I may, it’s not the horse that makes the man but rather the man that makes the horse.”
Shifting again and feeling like she’d said enough to make her point, she leaned her weight against the railing once again and stared down into the ground at nothing in particular again a soft dimpled smile on her lips. Yes, she’d needed an escape outside but she was wondering if it was the company that was better than space from the scrutiny that lay waiting inside.
Gavriil of Dimitrou’s laconic answer was cause for the corner of her lips to twitch in movement; an almost smile but not quite. Biting down on the bottom on her lip and a nod of her head. In her limited experience, it was those who were the quietest who had the loudest minds, whether it was with horses or people. She didn’t press forward like so many people did. She’d asked, he’d offered his reply, and she’d leave it at that. Pressing forward would only draw awkwardness from any future conversation of that subject and she had not anything to add to her question about his family.
The question about the horses though seemed to cause a bit more of a reaction from him as he glanced at her.
‘Not so fine as your father’s.’
She offered a faint, but almost wry smile back at him and his almost too polite smile, and softly dropped her eyes from him. Evangelina knew she had to be careful… she could school her face all she wanted to keep her thoughts from showing but it was her eyes that gave everything away. Every thought. Every feeling seemed to just leak out of her. It was a damned nuisance.
“Mmmm… I will pass your compliment along to my father.” The pint-sized Leventi’s lips pursed and she grew silent.
Out on the balcony, the tension seemed to float away on the soft breeze. She leaned over the railing slightly peering down at the ground and staring at nothing in particular. When Gavriil spoke again, this time offering up the most she’d ever heard him say at one time.
‘You looked like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. I felt duty-bound to intervene.’
She didn’t lift her head to look at him after he’d offered her the words but she did smile. A softly dimpled sort with a hint of knowing. Did he realize he’d given a piece of himself away to her then and there? A man famed for his hunting prowess was comfortable, confident, even gentle enough to rescue an ensnared doe. He’d offered a little and in return, she did the same.
“I felt a bit like a doe caught in a hunter’s trap. That’s not exactly the best place to be when the wolves are circling either.” Her her tilted and she regarded him with an odd and undecipherable look before looking back to the ground on the other side of the balcony. “But it’s not always the wolves that are seen that do the most harm, you know…” Her voice trailed off in an unfinished thought that wouldn’t make its way to words, at least not yet and not to someone as perceptive as the man next to her.
Evangelina let the comfortable silence wash between them, tilting her head upwards and closing her eyes against the unforgiving Taengean sun, allowing herself a moment to bask in it.
“Can I ask you a question?” She didn’t bother opening her eyes or pulling her face away from the sunlight, nor did she give him time to answer that question since it was rhetorical. “You felt duty-bound to intervene. Why?” That was the moment she picked to turn and let her darkened honey eyes settle onto him. “You are renowned for your skill as a hunter if anything I would have expected you to sit back and await the final blow.” Could he see that she had already worked the answer out for herself? He might have been a hunter but he was no wolf determined to rip her to shreds. It created a curiosity in her striking features. Dropping her eyes, she smiled, more to herself than to him and looked back to the ground. “I don’t suppose you have to answer that after all.”
She was quiet again for a moment, her fingers gripping the railing as she leaned her weight against it. She felt herself decompressing from her little escapade… she felt like she’d been the center stage star in a three-ring troupe. After a moment, she bit her lip again as she gathered her thoughts before she spoke and when she did there was a soft but all too knowing vibe in her voice.
“Fine horses are only fine in the right hands and too often they end up in the wrong hands.” She spared him a glance and continued. “People flock to prettiness or the right bloodlines for whatever reasons, but a fine horse in incompetent hands… they are no finer than the average horse pulling a milk cart in the square. Pretty is as pretty does.” It was hard to tell if she were talking about horses or people or maybe both. She bit her bottom lip again and this time met his gaze squarely. “A ‘not as fine’ horse in the right hands will always trump a fine horse in the wrong hands.” With a purposeful softness to her, “My lord, if I may, it’s not the horse that makes the man but rather the man that makes the horse.”
Shifting again and feeling like she’d said enough to make her point, she leaned her weight against the railing once again and stared down into the ground at nothing in particular again a soft dimpled smile on her lips. Yes, she’d needed an escape outside but she was wondering if it was the company that was better than space from the scrutiny that lay waiting inside.
There was something about the way the Egyptian general phrased his question to her that almost seemed to pose a challenge. And Imeeya was always one to rise to a challenge, all thoughts of decorum were pushed to the side as she instead answered with the first words that popped into her head, ”I’m known to be as fierce as my mother.” She hoped the implication that her mother was a force to be reckoned with would cross the language barrier. Her eyes held a glint of the fire with which she returned his remark.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a chance to see how he might return that remark, as Magnus came up behind her to introduce himself. She followed what she could of Magnus’s Coptic, but he spoke more quickly than her tutors had ever spoken to her. She sighed a bit in frustration, irritated to be left out of the conversation in such a way. Yet, she tried to limit her outward signs of annoyance to that gesture. Instead, she watched Magnus carefully as if watching his expression and the shape of his mouth might better help her to understand what he was saying.
It wasn’t long before Prince Irakles swept back in to take over the conversation. Imeeya frowned slightly at his sudden appearance, but quickly composed her face into a more polite expression. She wasn’t about to offend the now de facto ruler of Taengea. Though the farce of the whole thing grated at her. They were expecting to start a diplomatic relationship with this foreign country on top of a bed of lies. This didn’t seem likely to end in a good outcome. From what she had seen so far, he seemed like an intelligent man, it seemed unlikely they’d be able to keep up this facade.
Still, Imeeya smiled politely, and inclined her head gently as Lady Myrto was introduced, though she knew this introduction was not for her benefit. Then, Irakles directed the general towards the hostess of the evening, inviting her along with them. Imeeya attempted to conceal her surprise as instead of being deposited in front of the princesses, who by all rights would be the hostesses of the evening. Instead, they were deposited in front of “Lady” Meena, whose efforts were greatly praised. Imeeya’s frown had deepened, and she was no longer attempting to hide her growing anger at this convoluted con that Irakles had managed to ensnare them all in. She glared at the ground, sure if she stared at one place too long she might set it on fire with the anger that had to be radiating from her eyes, looking up only as politeness required as the Leventis were introduced.
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There was something about the way the Egyptian general phrased his question to her that almost seemed to pose a challenge. And Imeeya was always one to rise to a challenge, all thoughts of decorum were pushed to the side as she instead answered with the first words that popped into her head, ”I’m known to be as fierce as my mother.” She hoped the implication that her mother was a force to be reckoned with would cross the language barrier. Her eyes held a glint of the fire with which she returned his remark.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a chance to see how he might return that remark, as Magnus came up behind her to introduce himself. She followed what she could of Magnus’s Coptic, but he spoke more quickly than her tutors had ever spoken to her. She sighed a bit in frustration, irritated to be left out of the conversation in such a way. Yet, she tried to limit her outward signs of annoyance to that gesture. Instead, she watched Magnus carefully as if watching his expression and the shape of his mouth might better help her to understand what he was saying.
It wasn’t long before Prince Irakles swept back in to take over the conversation. Imeeya frowned slightly at his sudden appearance, but quickly composed her face into a more polite expression. She wasn’t about to offend the now de facto ruler of Taengea. Though the farce of the whole thing grated at her. They were expecting to start a diplomatic relationship with this foreign country on top of a bed of lies. This didn’t seem likely to end in a good outcome. From what she had seen so far, he seemed like an intelligent man, it seemed unlikely they’d be able to keep up this facade.
Still, Imeeya smiled politely, and inclined her head gently as Lady Myrto was introduced, though she knew this introduction was not for her benefit. Then, Irakles directed the general towards the hostess of the evening, inviting her along with them. Imeeya attempted to conceal her surprise as instead of being deposited in front of the princesses, who by all rights would be the hostesses of the evening. Instead, they were deposited in front of “Lady” Meena, whose efforts were greatly praised. Imeeya’s frown had deepened, and she was no longer attempting to hide her growing anger at this convoluted con that Irakles had managed to ensnare them all in. She glared at the ground, sure if she stared at one place too long she might set it on fire with the anger that had to be radiating from her eyes, looking up only as politeness required as the Leventis were introduced.
There was something about the way the Egyptian general phrased his question to her that almost seemed to pose a challenge. And Imeeya was always one to rise to a challenge, all thoughts of decorum were pushed to the side as she instead answered with the first words that popped into her head, ”I’m known to be as fierce as my mother.” She hoped the implication that her mother was a force to be reckoned with would cross the language barrier. Her eyes held a glint of the fire with which she returned his remark.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much of a chance to see how he might return that remark, as Magnus came up behind her to introduce himself. She followed what she could of Magnus’s Coptic, but he spoke more quickly than her tutors had ever spoken to her. She sighed a bit in frustration, irritated to be left out of the conversation in such a way. Yet, she tried to limit her outward signs of annoyance to that gesture. Instead, she watched Magnus carefully as if watching his expression and the shape of his mouth might better help her to understand what he was saying.
It wasn’t long before Prince Irakles swept back in to take over the conversation. Imeeya frowned slightly at his sudden appearance, but quickly composed her face into a more polite expression. She wasn’t about to offend the now de facto ruler of Taengea. Though the farce of the whole thing grated at her. They were expecting to start a diplomatic relationship with this foreign country on top of a bed of lies. This didn’t seem likely to end in a good outcome. From what she had seen so far, he seemed like an intelligent man, it seemed unlikely they’d be able to keep up this facade.
Still, Imeeya smiled politely, and inclined her head gently as Lady Myrto was introduced, though she knew this introduction was not for her benefit. Then, Irakles directed the general towards the hostess of the evening, inviting her along with them. Imeeya attempted to conceal her surprise as instead of being deposited in front of the princesses, who by all rights would be the hostesses of the evening. Instead, they were deposited in front of “Lady” Meena, whose efforts were greatly praised. Imeeya’s frown had deepened, and she was no longer attempting to hide her growing anger at this convoluted con that Irakles had managed to ensnare them all in. She glared at the ground, sure if she stared at one place too long she might set it on fire with the anger that had to be radiating from her eyes, looking up only as politeness required as the Leventis were introduced.