Spending a day schmoozing and socializing was never top of Vangelis of Kotas' to-do list. At the break of every dawn, it was a long list, filled with the duties and responsibilities normally held by a half dozen men, not just one. Vangelis held the roles of the crown prince, baron to the land of Chaossis, head of the Kotas household, and was currently the sole General of his father's armies. The list of tasks to be completed between sun up and sun down never seemed to diminish. Though nothing ever appeared to fall forgotten through the cracks or left too long before it was seen to. The benefit of having little in his life besides work. Vangelis was a perfectionist at heart but not in action. He slaved over every piece of paper, every duty to be fulfilled, determined to see it conclude in success.

From the point of view of administration and task-work, Vangelis was no more skilled than the average aide. But the mentality he had been brought up with since birth ensured that his results far surpassed anything to be considered average. For such eventualities, time was essential. Time spent working, time spent checking, time spent chasing... Vangelis spent every waking moment seeing to his duties without distraction or diversion. It was the only way a man of his diverse responsibilities wouldn't be dropping those duties hand over fist.

And Vangelis was more than aware of this.

This is why courtly politics always inspired a sense of irritation within him. For each minute he spent away from his workload, the duties piled higher, and the tension grew further. His trip to Taengea had been scheduled for three days in length but now, after the third night and the day of his departure dawned, Vangelis was on board a ship headed in the wrong direction. Sailing south from the capital and around the lower coastline of Taengea's main landmass, Vangelis was headed to the Isle of Emae, not the Kirakles' to the north.

Yet, he'd had little room for argument when Lord Fotios of the Leventi had insisted upon his attendance.

'It's a young persons event, Your Majesty,' The man had said. 'There's little prospects to interest a man of my years but for yourself... you'll be able to see specimens from the stock in a more natural setting, under trying conditions. I'll provide you the stallion for the venture...'

Having arrived in Taengea to barter with the Leventis over the next shipment of warhorses, Vangelis had been unable to argue the vantage in the Head of House's suggestion. It was one thing to witness a training spectacle in the fields of the Leventi estate, to watch the equines put through their paces in a land they knew well. Such skilled discipline was necessary for a great steed in battle. But the true test would be putting the animal through its paces in a foreign setting, a world of trip hazards, fears, and jolting surprised that could turn a fierce animal into a whinnying, petrified liability.

The event Lord Fotios had been directing Vangelis towards was an informal get-together arranged for the vibrant greenery of Chaoedia, a province famed for its woodland and meadows. Those who had merited an invitation would be arriving that morning, attending to a privately rented estate, and set out to explore the surroundings upon horseback or in small carriages for the ladies. There was no great purpose for the congregation besides the desire to shed the shackles of polite society and remind the youthful nobles of the land what it meant to 'let loose'.

In this sense, Vangelis was at least thankful.

He knew the etiquette of the lands. All of them. A Crown Prince did not grow up without the instruction and lessons to put whole classes of nobles to shame. He'd not been allowed to grow up ignorant in any way, shape, or form. Instead, he knew the intricate finery of the upper classes. He just didn't like employing it. He was a straight-laced and straight-talking sort of man. Honestly and bluntness were his friends and the Colchian belief in honor his guiding light.

Perhaps, Vangelis thought, looking out over the bow of the ship and assessing the treeline along the coast of the Isle of Emae, this whole thing would be more palatable simply due to its informality. Perhaps.

Still, it was over a day out of his way for all other business he had yet to conduct and this was frustrating beyond any hopeful expectations of the horse that shifted and shucked on the lower level of the boat. Vangelis could hear the animal shuffle its hooves, toss its head and pull against his head rope mooring. The creature had spirit, at least that was clear. And seeing that spirit in action at this pseudo-event would at least put him in the good graces of the Leventi Head. Mayhaps offer connection with other nobles.

His mother was always on at him about that. Particularly associating with women. At thirty-two, it was long past true that Vangelis should be married and with children by now. Heirs to the throne of Colchis. So far, however, he'd yet to meet a woman that met the standards he held in his mind for what the Queen of Colchis should be.

'Your Majesty, we're coming into port now!' Called the captain of the ship, bringing Vangelis and a small host of civilians to the Emae docks. Vangelis nodded to show that he had heard to notice. After three days it was less bizarre to be called Your Majesty. That was always how it was. Normally, he was Your Highness. Or His Royal Highness. Majesty was a term reserved for his father. But as he was the future king of Colchis and his father not on Taengean soil, it was polite to promote his address to the higher form. Still, upon every visit, it took a moment for Vangelis to adjust. To feel the term settle in his mind with any kind of appropriateness.

As the ship pulled into the dock, Vangelis took a step back to be out of the way of the sailors. They moved about their tasks with the fluidity of practice, hands grabbing ropes, oars, and other tools of the trade. They moved the ship into port with a tilt of the sail and a redirect of the oars out the starboard side. Bringing the side of the boat bouncing gently against the wooden jetty, it was the work of a few moments to tie off the vessel and begin the unloading of their passengers and cargo.

'Shall we, Your Majesty?'

Vangelis glanced over his shoulder and two-foot down to the little scribe who had been assigned to him as both aide and navigator. He was glancing towards the wooden plank used for disembarkment. Vangelis nodded again, gesturing for his horse to be escorted from the ship and then following in its wake. He was quick to tack up the animal, despite several sailors looking as if they wanted the task for themselves. His aide had been gifted a smaller, stouter horse for the journey, and, before long, they were both mounted and headed through the small crowds at the province's docklands and moving onto the main road that headed further south, into the belly of Chaoedia.

The road was pretty. It was relatively straight but wound occasionally around clumps of trees or small hillocks as if bowing to the authority of nature. If the land wanted to grow a certain way, far be it for a manmade road to dictate otherwise. Sometimes the pair of them were shaded by overhanging trees down either side of the path. At other times, the road moved through open fields and the sun shimmered sweetly despite the Kuklios chill in the air.

Dressed in a knee-length chiton and greaves up his calves, Vangelis might have been cold if it wasn't for the woolen cloak draped around his shoulders. Its navy blue folds were thick and he had only to drape its edge over his legs for his toes to no longer suffer from the cold. True Colchian weave at its finest.

It was perhaps an hour's ride before he and his little aide reached their destination. Around a copse of trees, and half-hidden in the shade of a glen stood a stone sign for the estate just along the road. Backed onto woodland but fronted by an open, sunny meadow, Vangelis was unsurprised to discover that he was not the first in attendance. His discussions with Lord Fotios had been long and he had not expected to be sent anywhere other than home afterward. He was late to the party already meeting and greeting out front of the estate house, flanked by a few carriages and a cluster of fine horses.

Taking a long and slow inhale, Vangelis kept his mount at a walk as they followed the path up the front-side approach, idly wondering what the Taengeans would think of a Colchian party crasher in the form of a towering soldier famed for bloody conquest and social isolation.

Today Imma was with her parents and sisters instead of her uncle, aunt, and cousins. Since moving into the main manor, she had spent little time with her real family as she was busy with the lessons and challenges Uncle Fotios set for her. She was learning a lot about how to present herself in an appealing manner and to subtly control others by making them think her ideas were really their own. Though progressing well, she knew it would take a long time before she was considered the most fascinating woman in the Taengean court. She still made plenty of mistakes and she feared nothing more than the look of disappointment on her uncle’s face.

He had given her no challenges today, but Imma knew that he expected her to find a way to shine like a diamond in the sun. How she was going to do that she had no idea, but she had no doubt that she would find a way. Maybe there would be a Prince to charm who wasn’t Vangelis of Kotas. The petite blonde thought he was handsome, but he was also scary, so tall and formidable and silent. She hoped that Uncle Fotios would not want to secure an alliance with the ruling family of Colchis by marrying her to him. Though she would adore becoming a Queen, she would rather wed a man who didn’t terrify her. Besides, he was twice her age and she had three single older sisters.

Imma asked and received permission to seek out refreshments as soon as they stepped off the boat. Her parents were so lenient compared to Uncle Fotios and Aunt Eirini. Had she remained under their roof, she would never learn the skills to step from behind the shadows of her sisters and into a light of her own. She would have continued to be ‘the other Leventi girl,’ and treated as an afterthought. She looked forward to the day her siblings would be referred to as ‘Imma’s sisters’ because she would be the intriguing one.

A man on a horse came hurtling toward her and if she had not stepped quickly to the side, he might have run over her. Well, I’m still invisible to some people. Imma thought as she checked her lilac chiton to make sure no dirt had splashed onto it. It was one of her newer outfits, made for the colder weather. Draped to form an apoptygma that reached to her thighs, it was pinned along both arms with pearl and opal fibulae, forming long sleeves. Her belt was made of strings of pearls wrapped around her waist and fastened with a purple ribbon. Her jewelry was also comprised of opals and pearls. She carried a purple ruffled himation over one arm, but it wasn’t yet cool enough to put it on.

She was looking forward to watching the races, though participating it them would have been more fun. Imma was an excellent rider but at sixteen, she was not experienced enough to compete against skilled men. Still, she wished she could have brought Tisavros with her just to ride around the area and explore. If she had visited this province before, she had been too young to remember. She hoped that some of her friends would be here for her to talk to. Maybe then she could avoid getting into mischief.

Her stomach growled. Imma was still growing and always hungry. Where, she wondered, were the refreshments?

Asia might have thought Vangelis particularly stern in the last month or so but it was not disapproval that kept him quiet in her presence. For one thing, he was usually quiet and their associations in Taengea were often public, in which Vangelis’ stoicism liked to take center stage. For the rest, it was more ignorance that kept him quiet over displeasure. Vangelis had spent much of his time, of late, seeing to the affairs of state. So many hours had been spent in negotiations and discussions around rebuilding Colchis’ larger states, the buildings, and infrastructure that the rioters had dismantled that he had spent little to no time with his family at all. He’s been given basic reports of their good health and locations at any one time but little else. Only the essentials.

He hadn’t even known Asia had taken in a pet until she’d presented herself with him at the docks back in Midas insisting that he accompany her on their journey. He was entirely out of the circle of knowledge within which his family now operated. Not an unfamiliar place for Vangelis to be when he had spent years of his life abroad. But certainly a foreign concept for when he was actually living in the same estate as them.

Aware of his ignorant, Vangelis had simply avoided saying anything to most of his family. A man without information, after all, was a man without input and Vangelis had no right to pass comment of judgment on a life lived outside of his awareness. Instead, he had turned to the world he could influence and could find a use for himself within: his duties.

As he led Athanasia’s carriage to The estate hosting the event, Vangelis made no comment as she descended and immediately began a discussion with a young woman he quickly identified as the youngest of the Leventi daughters. Recalling the blonde girl as a quiet, artistic sort of person, he decided the association to be unnecessary to watch and turned his focus upon a different Leventi.

Olympia, daughter of Georgios was a beautiful young woman who would have shone all the brighter on the international stage of eligible women if it weren’t for her elder sisters. Pale skin, ebony hair, and a delicate set of features that were at once demure and emotive… she was a Grecian beauty in every way and her coloring was a welcome reminder of Colchis.

She greeted him formerly with contrition for her own family’s part in his tardiness and a smile of such pure welcome even Vangelis’ icy stoicism was forced to bend just a little as he dismounted from his horse.

Settling the reins in hand, the leather wrapped about his knuckles, Vangelis offered the girl a civil nod.

“I think it possible you’d Uncle would discuss his craft in horseflesh without breath if the timing suited, Lady Olympia. The excursion to Emae provided a reprieve of sorts. Not,” he added, realizing belatedly that his words might be considered an insult l, “that passion for one’s work is an annoyance. Only that Lord Fotios has a way with words that I lack. It is unsettling to go to war unarmed, so to speak.”

Olympia kept an eye on Imma, watching her youngest sister from the corner of her eye. Since Imma had moved to be with their uncle, Olympia had not had many chances to see her.

She was somewhat alarmed when a rider came very close to her sister, but thankfully Imma seemed to have the good sense to get out of the way. Olympia glanced between her sister and Crown Prince Vangelis, wondering if it would be acceptable if she went to her sister's aid in the middle of a conversation.

With the difference in age between them, she was uncertain if Imma would have any fun at the event if Olympia was poking at her affairs, and so Olympia eventually decided that she would let her sister be, at least until Imma requested Olympia's help with something.

It brought some joy to Olympia's heart to see Princess Athanasia approaching Imma. There was a much more suitable companion for her, in age if nothing else. Besides, it let Olympia be free to worry about other things.

She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear in a way that typically drew attention to her face, though not on purpose. Olympia felt as if she couldn't see anything when her hair blocked even the slightest part of her view, and at the moment she wished that her eyes could be everywhere and on everyone.

Olympia tried to focus on the Crown Prince's words rather than on anything else, as much as she wanted to. She suspected he was used to such attention, though whether he liked it or not could be a different story. Someone with a moniker like 'the Stone Prince' would be difficult to get a reaction out of either way.

Olympia could only hope that she was being received in a positive manner.

At first, she was slightly uncomfortable, as though she were uncertain if it was meant with harm in mind or not. Not one to remain uncertain for long, Olympia quickly deduced the true meaning after the addition the Crown Prince made, though she had already assumed that no offense was meant.

After all, what would be the purpose of insulting one of the members of one of the most prestigious Houses of Taengea? Still, Olympia made note of his social struggle, something she had heard of in rumors.

Olympia recalled feeling the same way during several of her encounters with Uncle Fotios. Even as skilled as Olympia was with her own words, experience could win out and leave her floundering. It was not something she particularly enjoyed, but she knew meeting someone on a similar level was an excellent way to have a conversation.

Well, emotionally if not physically. Olympia found herself looking up in order to properly address him, even though he was no longer on his horse.

Before she could say a word, though, Nana interrupted the conversation. An extremely brief flash of annoyance and surprise crossed Olympia's face, both at her sister's sudden appearance and at her words. She quickly smoothed it over and returned her face to normal.

"No, I don't believe you are." Olympia addressed her sister, though she itched to tell her younger sister to go stare straight into a mirror for the next half hour at least. Then again, in intelligence at least, being compared to Nana would simply make Olympia look more favorable.

"I have to agree with my younger sister, Nana, on this topic." Olympia said, both by way of introduction on the off-chance that His Majesty did not recognize her, and to remind Nana of her place in a way that still let Olympia appear charming. "Our uncle has gained the benefit of many years' experience, both in horse-breeding and explaining himself so eloquently. Not to mention quickly."

Olympia chuckled a little, "Though your words are quite poetically accurate. I am sure my uncle likes to size up his verbal opponents before there is any sparring going on." She had never heard of her uncle losing a 'match,' if she continued with the metaphor.

She craved a little more interesting conversation, though with Nana here she had her doubts about how to do it properly. Perhaps, as a military man, the Crown Prince would be more interested in military discussions? Or at least discussions of his own strength.

Olympia often found herself tailoring the discussion to the interests of people around her, and she would rather swim all the way back home than let Nana turn the conversation to herself. At the same time, she had doubts about military discussion. It was something she was hardly knowledgeable about, and she hated to look foolish.

Whatever her hesitations were, Olympia was hardly one to avoid taking risks.

"I must say that it sounds as though it would be thoroughly unsettling for one with strengths such as yourself. I imagine it's rare that you find yourself matched with an opponent such as our uncle."

Olympia would have liked to think that she could have a meaningful conversation with anyone, be they more interesting nobles or slightly boring servants. Perhaps things would've worked out better if Nana was not present, but Olympia considered herself ready to rise to the challenge.

And gods, was it a challenge.

Olympia would readily confirm rumours of social incompetence, but in her mind she was already setting plans, looking to the future as she did so often. Perhaps she should give an extra prayer to Athena for some insight and wisdom, if there was ever one capricious god or goddess even looking her way.

Even a good impression today could go a long way in the future. If not with Vangelis, then perhaps with one of his brothers. Despite just complaining about her uncle herself, she could still hear his words in her ear, as well as the constant echo of her mother's voice.

Men have power, power is safety, and your mother wants you to be safe.

Olympia was never one to disappoint. Not if she could help it. There was nothing worse than someone who stood helplessly by and did nothing, especially when there were so many different types of tools to use. Words, a little tilt of the head, even an extra blink or two usually made conversations flow just that much easier.

Olympia always preferred to keep her hands clean this way, speaking her cuts rather than using a knife. While she knew she would be utterly at a loss for any type of physical fighting competition, she truly believed that her sharp tongue more than made up for it.

"I suppose we're all raised and trained in our own ways, then." Olympia pondered out loud, "I have always been taught to pay careful attention to words and their usages. Among other things more fit for someone of my station."

Olympia emphasized 'my' to indicate her much different station as a woman, but also someone from a different culture. She was now wondering if perhaps she should have made that more clear to avoid any of the 'word games' Vangelis had just claimed to dislike.

She glanced at Nana, wondering how the two of them had ended up so different with such similar lives, such similar training.

"Perhaps it would be easier if we were all simply and completely honest with each other?"

A slight trace of humour ended up in the last words, along with some hope. Olympia could hardly imagine a world where she was allowed or encouraged to let all of her secrets loose to the public, especially the one she held closest to her heart.

It would be much easier if there was a socially acceptable way to argue with one's parents or head of house. Minor arguments, especially with father, tended to be fine, but Olympia could hardly imagine turning down a politically-charged request (read: command) from her uncle.

She was not naive enough to believe that they lived in a world ready for honesty just yet, and Olympia doubted that her sister was either, despite all her concerns and criticisms about Nana's own worldview.

"Excuse me."

Olympia briefly turned away and raised her hand, signalling for one of her roaming servants to bring some wine over to her, Nana, and Vangelis. She cautiously lifted a glass off of the tray and watched as the servant offered it to both Nana and Vangelis.

Ah, the perks of her station.

Nearly being trampled to death left Imma more shaken than she would ever admit. If she had not seen that rider coming and had not been able to step aside in time, she would be lying seriously injured or even dead on the ground right now. She tried to be stoic about it like she believed that Uncle Fotios would want her to be. Most women would have screamed for help or even fainted. One who was brave in the face of danger would attract more attention, and that was precisely what the young blonde was learning how to do.

She closed her eyes and tried to calm her pounding heart and stop herself from shivering. Maybe I should put on my himation,” she mused. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the delicious aroma of roasting fish. Her stomach rumbled again and she opened her eyes, turning in the direction of the smell. The refreshment area was not very far away.

A familiar voice called out to her, and she noticed Princess Athanasia of Colchis approaching her, asking if she was okay. Imma had actually attracted some attention, and, and from a royal, no less! Uncle Fotios will be proud of me. The Colchian royals were staying with them and she had spoken to Athanasia a time or two, but they had only engaged in small talk. Now she had a chance to truly get to know her and perhaps become her friend.

“I’m fine,” she replied with a genuine smile. “Whoever he was, I hope he falls off his horse during the races.” Imma wasn’t even sure if she would recognize the man when she saw him again. Everything had happened so fast. Whether she did or not, maybe he would fall or another rider would run into him like he had nearly run into her. It would serve him right.

It seemed as if the princess and her dog were hungry too. And she asked Imma to join her. “I would love to. I’m positively starving! I was headed to the refreshment area when I was nearly run down.” She leaned forward and held out her hand so the dog could sniff it. “Is he friendly to strangers?” she asked. “Or will he bite off my hand if I try to pet him?”

He had done the bulk of the moving and setting up of their stall. He mostly wanted Lars away from Nethisa, to see the opportunities out there, and this was genuinely something he could’ve never foreseen. It was truly a privilege, and while he didn’t despise smithing, he felt that he wouldn’t get past where he came from as easily as he would if he were to rise through the ranks as a soldier. Not only that, but there was once again, the need to bring some form of pride to his family.

He could already tell as he continued to polish and straighten up his pieces of work how out of his depth he truly was. There were gems on display, and many intricate works that must’ve taken years to accomplish. Of course, he couldn’t afford to spend years on multiple pieces, he needed to get things done, he needed to be able to make money, which meant making weapons that lasted. While he had pride in his work, everything around him seemed to be so intricately crafted- decorated, and made for royalty.

There was a sigh leaving his mouth as he heard his brother thud onto the ground, complaining, grumbling, and moaning about whatever seemed to inconvenience him. His attention shifted back though, to his quaint little stall, where his work was. Of course he’d practiced with some of the things he’s made before, but it was mostly hacking, which was what he was trying not to do in frustration.

He stopped for a second, scrunching up his face as he turned back to look at his baby brother, one of his short swords still in hand, and as he spun it around, he finally took in what he had said.

“Over… compensating?” Vértos mused, looking around, giving a huff as he smiled- “Lars- I believe we’re the ones in over our head- we’ve brought weapons to what’s most definitely supposed to be a more artistic event. Their large horses fit right in!” Vértos chuckled, putting the blade away as he nodded towards the stall next to them.

“I think the only thing I see that may be even closer to what we have are jewel encrusted daggers- the most decoration we have on our blades are the engravings I made you do to keep yourself busy.” Of course, he could always add more engravings, but he feared that without proper polishing and materials it would simply appear as if he were trying too hard to impress those potentially willing to buy. Not only that, but he felt that a rushed piece of work had much less value than one made with time and effort.