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A court occasion in the massive marble edifice of the palace's grand hall should have been a cause of excitement and for most it was. Nervous glances, preening nobility, whispered nothings round every colonnade, high state occasions were what the great and good lived for. Well. Most of them. There were exceptions to the rule and one of the most painfully obvious among this particular audience was a certain Stelios of Antonis. If his 6'3" height and pate of red-gold hair didn't set him apart the way he conspicuously avoided every attempt at conversation from his fellow Athenian privileged class did. Every curious glance was turned away from, every greeting whether heartfelt or perfunctory ignored. There was a frown of naked unease on his stubble-clad face and for good cause. He was totally out of his element!
The fanfare and pomp of royal pageantry held no interest for a soldier who was counting the moments until he could flee back to his garrison and quit the mysterious, shifting politics of the city. He scarcely paid attention as the crown family entered or in whatever the hell was going on. Stelios wouldn't be here if not at his father's insistence, General Lacides could not attend and had sent his second son in his stead. He'd have been happier if he had been ordered to attend a knitting party of old crones (though he couldn't stitch a damn) or a meeting of teetotalers (gods, what he wouldn't do for a drink about now). Everything in these environs was too manufactured. Contrived. Perfect. No, it wouldn't do and he had resolved as soon as things were over to make for the nearest exit.
If only Stelios could have waited that long.
He snuck out halfway through, congratulating himself on his stealth only to find himself in an unfamiliar corridor. A wise man would have gone back the way he'd come but never let it be said that Stelios of Antonis let intelligence get in the way of stubborn resolve and he foolishly meandered on. Every turn he expected to find open air and freedom but halls seemed to double back on themselves, and he hurriedly dashed through the maze to avoid any approaching footsteps.
After what seemed a lifetime, he finally found his way out!
And RIGHT back into the Grand Hall.
Under his breath Stelios cursed both himself and whatever divinity had decided to make him their plaything today but his annoyance was slightly abated noticing that the audience must be over, the crowds dispersed, and few left beyond guards and the occasional noble presence. He started to make for what he knew was an exit but stopped short. The rustle of fabric made him aware of an approach; that of an exquisitely beautiful young woman. Imperceptive and with his mind on leaving he flashed a slanted smile and paused, thinking she was headed the same way and even in haste his sense of honor interfered. Ladies first. Gesturing towards the doorway, he sighed. "As anxious to escape this menagerie as I am? I can't return to my command soon enough." He rapped the breastplate of the armor he wore over a rather simple tunic, its bronze face contoured to resemble the chiseled musculature of the man who wore it and proudly emblazoned with the three-headed sigil of Illoclis' Spears of Cerberus unit. "Hades' teeth, if I had to attend these functions day in and day out I think I'd find the nearest cliff to shove myself off. Small mercy it's over, hrmm? After you, good lady," he insisted, blissfully ignorant of who he addressed or the lack of protocol being observed. It was a dangerous thing to be largely absent from Athenia. Time dulls the memory and causes one to forget many things ... among them, princesses.
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A court occasion in the massive marble edifice of the palace's grand hall should have been a cause of excitement and for most it was. Nervous glances, preening nobility, whispered nothings round every colonnade, high state occasions were what the great and good lived for. Well. Most of them. There were exceptions to the rule and one of the most painfully obvious among this particular audience was a certain Stelios of Antonis. If his 6'3" height and pate of red-gold hair didn't set him apart the way he conspicuously avoided every attempt at conversation from his fellow Athenian privileged class did. Every curious glance was turned away from, every greeting whether heartfelt or perfunctory ignored. There was a frown of naked unease on his stubble-clad face and for good cause. He was totally out of his element!
The fanfare and pomp of royal pageantry held no interest for a soldier who was counting the moments until he could flee back to his garrison and quit the mysterious, shifting politics of the city. He scarcely paid attention as the crown family entered or in whatever the hell was going on. Stelios wouldn't be here if not at his father's insistence, General Lacides could not attend and had sent his second son in his stead. He'd have been happier if he had been ordered to attend a knitting party of old crones (though he couldn't stitch a damn) or a meeting of teetotalers (gods, what he wouldn't do for a drink about now). Everything in these environs was too manufactured. Contrived. Perfect. No, it wouldn't do and he had resolved as soon as things were over to make for the nearest exit.
If only Stelios could have waited that long.
He snuck out halfway through, congratulating himself on his stealth only to find himself in an unfamiliar corridor. A wise man would have gone back the way he'd come but never let it be said that Stelios of Antonis let intelligence get in the way of stubborn resolve and he foolishly meandered on. Every turn he expected to find open air and freedom but halls seemed to double back on themselves, and he hurriedly dashed through the maze to avoid any approaching footsteps.
After what seemed a lifetime, he finally found his way out!
And RIGHT back into the Grand Hall.
Under his breath Stelios cursed both himself and whatever divinity had decided to make him their plaything today but his annoyance was slightly abated noticing that the audience must be over, the crowds dispersed, and few left beyond guards and the occasional noble presence. He started to make for what he knew was an exit but stopped short. The rustle of fabric made him aware of an approach; that of an exquisitely beautiful young woman. Imperceptive and with his mind on leaving he flashed a slanted smile and paused, thinking she was headed the same way and even in haste his sense of honor interfered. Ladies first. Gesturing towards the doorway, he sighed. "As anxious to escape this menagerie as I am? I can't return to my command soon enough." He rapped the breastplate of the armor he wore over a rather simple tunic, its bronze face contoured to resemble the chiseled musculature of the man who wore it and proudly emblazoned with the three-headed sigil of Illoclis' Spears of Cerberus unit. "Hades' teeth, if I had to attend these functions day in and day out I think I'd find the nearest cliff to shove myself off. Small mercy it's over, hrmm? After you, good lady," he insisted, blissfully ignorant of who he addressed or the lack of protocol being observed. It was a dangerous thing to be largely absent from Athenia. Time dulls the memory and causes one to forget many things ... among them, princesses.
A court occasion in the massive marble edifice of the palace's grand hall should have been a cause of excitement and for most it was. Nervous glances, preening nobility, whispered nothings round every colonnade, high state occasions were what the great and good lived for. Well. Most of them. There were exceptions to the rule and one of the most painfully obvious among this particular audience was a certain Stelios of Antonis. If his 6'3" height and pate of red-gold hair didn't set him apart the way he conspicuously avoided every attempt at conversation from his fellow Athenian privileged class did. Every curious glance was turned away from, every greeting whether heartfelt or perfunctory ignored. There was a frown of naked unease on his stubble-clad face and for good cause. He was totally out of his element!
The fanfare and pomp of royal pageantry held no interest for a soldier who was counting the moments until he could flee back to his garrison and quit the mysterious, shifting politics of the city. He scarcely paid attention as the crown family entered or in whatever the hell was going on. Stelios wouldn't be here if not at his father's insistence, General Lacides could not attend and had sent his second son in his stead. He'd have been happier if he had been ordered to attend a knitting party of old crones (though he couldn't stitch a damn) or a meeting of teetotalers (gods, what he wouldn't do for a drink about now). Everything in these environs was too manufactured. Contrived. Perfect. No, it wouldn't do and he had resolved as soon as things were over to make for the nearest exit.
If only Stelios could have waited that long.
He snuck out halfway through, congratulating himself on his stealth only to find himself in an unfamiliar corridor. A wise man would have gone back the way he'd come but never let it be said that Stelios of Antonis let intelligence get in the way of stubborn resolve and he foolishly meandered on. Every turn he expected to find open air and freedom but halls seemed to double back on themselves, and he hurriedly dashed through the maze to avoid any approaching footsteps.
After what seemed a lifetime, he finally found his way out!
And RIGHT back into the Grand Hall.
Under his breath Stelios cursed both himself and whatever divinity had decided to make him their plaything today but his annoyance was slightly abated noticing that the audience must be over, the crowds dispersed, and few left beyond guards and the occasional noble presence. He started to make for what he knew was an exit but stopped short. The rustle of fabric made him aware of an approach; that of an exquisitely beautiful young woman. Imperceptive and with his mind on leaving he flashed a slanted smile and paused, thinking she was headed the same way and even in haste his sense of honor interfered. Ladies first. Gesturing towards the doorway, he sighed. "As anxious to escape this menagerie as I am? I can't return to my command soon enough." He rapped the breastplate of the armor he wore over a rather simple tunic, its bronze face contoured to resemble the chiseled musculature of the man who wore it and proudly emblazoned with the three-headed sigil of Illoclis' Spears of Cerberus unit. "Hades' teeth, if I had to attend these functions day in and day out I think I'd find the nearest cliff to shove myself off. Small mercy it's over, hrmm? After you, good lady," he insisted, blissfully ignorant of who he addressed or the lack of protocol being observed. It was a dangerous thing to be largely absent from Athenia. Time dulls the memory and causes one to forget many things ... among them, princesses.
Emilia loved court occasions! It gave her all the excuses to break out the big guns from her wardrobe - not that the princess needed much of an excuse to dress up, really. For someone who wore jewelry to breakfast she shared only with her sister, and occasionally her father when he felt well enough, a court occasion... ah, well, that called for so much more.
If anyone had asked a lady's maid, they would've liked sighed either in frustration or pure exhaustion, but Emilia has been at it since the afternoon sun had breached the sky's peak. She had just gotten a new chiton made the week before, and today was the perfect day to break it out. The outfit was one that required three layers, the first of which was a gold material wrapped tightly around her body, all the way to where it stopped above her chest. The next layer was then a regular white chiton which had been edged with gold threads, the neckline a sheer drop to her belly, and would've been inappropriately revealing had she not had the first golden layer wrapped around her body. The white material was held up with a simple leather woven belt, before the final piece was layered assymetrically down the side. The last one was a sky blue piece, contrasted with a golden beld to hold it around the waist. The maids fastened the blue material over her left shoulder with a swan fibulae, and it flowed like a waterfall all the way down to her ankles.
Leaving her left shoulder bare, Emilia had instructed her servants to to a loose, low chignon. A few strands were left untied to frame her heart shaped face, and a newly crafted crown embedded with water sapphires shipped in from Taengea sparkled atop her head once it was secured in place. Her slippers were gold with silver threads, and they wound all the way up her calf, before the princess was escorted down to the Grand Hall of the palati.
Joining her sister and father as they entered the court hall, it didn't take long before Emilia started conversations with multiple people, in between chalices of wine and pieces of fruit and cheese. Persephone had taught her the nuances of political and courtly conversations since she had turned thirteen, and while Emilia took to fashion and outfits like a duck to water... conversations were less of her forte, especially those of the political ilk. Unlike Persephone, Emilia had no head for politics or noble matters, and talks of taxes, laws and regulations made her head spin.
So while she had started the night excited to show off her new dress, before the night was halfway through, Emilia was quite readily exhausted, and had begun to shrink to the sides of the hall to avoid further conversations. Once she could, Emilia turned, about to head for a door that she knew led to the gardens, when her steps stopped short when a man... who Emilia quickly realized seemed exceedingly handsome, gestured at her with a smile that easily made her pull up short in surprise.
Recovering quickly to realize what he had said, Emilia hurriedly pasted an amused smile on her face, hiding a small laugh as she nodded. "I wouldn't call this a menagerie... but I am a tad tired, yes indeed." Did she recognize him?Maybe if she paid more attention to her lessons and tutors, she would, but with the dark flickering lamps, Emilia could barely recall if he was of noble birth.
Of course, in hindsight, one would call it foolish to step out into a darkened garden with a person they could barely know... but she was used to her childhoom home being entirely safe.
Plus, she was a foolish young girl.
Chuckling as the man rapped his breastplate - obviously one of military background - Emilia stepped forward as he gestured for her to go first, exiting through the door, and taking a deep breathe as the brisk wind greeted them, fresh as compared to the stale and stuffy air within the Grand Hall. Picking up the corners of her dress, she turned to offer a smile at the dashing man who had been behind her. "Are you more at home on a training field then in a court session then, my lord?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice as she meandered down a pathway, only dimly lit by the sparse lamps outside. "I must confess, despite being brought up in such situations, they are stifling even for me... so I can't imagine you're entirely at home in there."
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Emilia loved court occasions! It gave her all the excuses to break out the big guns from her wardrobe - not that the princess needed much of an excuse to dress up, really. For someone who wore jewelry to breakfast she shared only with her sister, and occasionally her father when he felt well enough, a court occasion... ah, well, that called for so much more.
If anyone had asked a lady's maid, they would've liked sighed either in frustration or pure exhaustion, but Emilia has been at it since the afternoon sun had breached the sky's peak. She had just gotten a new chiton made the week before, and today was the perfect day to break it out. The outfit was one that required three layers, the first of which was a gold material wrapped tightly around her body, all the way to where it stopped above her chest. The next layer was then a regular white chiton which had been edged with gold threads, the neckline a sheer drop to her belly, and would've been inappropriately revealing had she not had the first golden layer wrapped around her body. The white material was held up with a simple leather woven belt, before the final piece was layered assymetrically down the side. The last one was a sky blue piece, contrasted with a golden beld to hold it around the waist. The maids fastened the blue material over her left shoulder with a swan fibulae, and it flowed like a waterfall all the way down to her ankles.
Leaving her left shoulder bare, Emilia had instructed her servants to to a loose, low chignon. A few strands were left untied to frame her heart shaped face, and a newly crafted crown embedded with water sapphires shipped in from Taengea sparkled atop her head once it was secured in place. Her slippers were gold with silver threads, and they wound all the way up her calf, before the princess was escorted down to the Grand Hall of the palati.
Joining her sister and father as they entered the court hall, it didn't take long before Emilia started conversations with multiple people, in between chalices of wine and pieces of fruit and cheese. Persephone had taught her the nuances of political and courtly conversations since she had turned thirteen, and while Emilia took to fashion and outfits like a duck to water... conversations were less of her forte, especially those of the political ilk. Unlike Persephone, Emilia had no head for politics or noble matters, and talks of taxes, laws and regulations made her head spin.
So while she had started the night excited to show off her new dress, before the night was halfway through, Emilia was quite readily exhausted, and had begun to shrink to the sides of the hall to avoid further conversations. Once she could, Emilia turned, about to head for a door that she knew led to the gardens, when her steps stopped short when a man... who Emilia quickly realized seemed exceedingly handsome, gestured at her with a smile that easily made her pull up short in surprise.
Recovering quickly to realize what he had said, Emilia hurriedly pasted an amused smile on her face, hiding a small laugh as she nodded. "I wouldn't call this a menagerie... but I am a tad tired, yes indeed." Did she recognize him?Maybe if she paid more attention to her lessons and tutors, she would, but with the dark flickering lamps, Emilia could barely recall if he was of noble birth.
Of course, in hindsight, one would call it foolish to step out into a darkened garden with a person they could barely know... but she was used to her childhoom home being entirely safe.
Plus, she was a foolish young girl.
Chuckling as the man rapped his breastplate - obviously one of military background - Emilia stepped forward as he gestured for her to go first, exiting through the door, and taking a deep breathe as the brisk wind greeted them, fresh as compared to the stale and stuffy air within the Grand Hall. Picking up the corners of her dress, she turned to offer a smile at the dashing man who had been behind her. "Are you more at home on a training field then in a court session then, my lord?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice as she meandered down a pathway, only dimly lit by the sparse lamps outside. "I must confess, despite being brought up in such situations, they are stifling even for me... so I can't imagine you're entirely at home in there."
Emilia loved court occasions! It gave her all the excuses to break out the big guns from her wardrobe - not that the princess needed much of an excuse to dress up, really. For someone who wore jewelry to breakfast she shared only with her sister, and occasionally her father when he felt well enough, a court occasion... ah, well, that called for so much more.
If anyone had asked a lady's maid, they would've liked sighed either in frustration or pure exhaustion, but Emilia has been at it since the afternoon sun had breached the sky's peak. She had just gotten a new chiton made the week before, and today was the perfect day to break it out. The outfit was one that required three layers, the first of which was a gold material wrapped tightly around her body, all the way to where it stopped above her chest. The next layer was then a regular white chiton which had been edged with gold threads, the neckline a sheer drop to her belly, and would've been inappropriately revealing had she not had the first golden layer wrapped around her body. The white material was held up with a simple leather woven belt, before the final piece was layered assymetrically down the side. The last one was a sky blue piece, contrasted with a golden beld to hold it around the waist. The maids fastened the blue material over her left shoulder with a swan fibulae, and it flowed like a waterfall all the way down to her ankles.
Leaving her left shoulder bare, Emilia had instructed her servants to to a loose, low chignon. A few strands were left untied to frame her heart shaped face, and a newly crafted crown embedded with water sapphires shipped in from Taengea sparkled atop her head once it was secured in place. Her slippers were gold with silver threads, and they wound all the way up her calf, before the princess was escorted down to the Grand Hall of the palati.
Joining her sister and father as they entered the court hall, it didn't take long before Emilia started conversations with multiple people, in between chalices of wine and pieces of fruit and cheese. Persephone had taught her the nuances of political and courtly conversations since she had turned thirteen, and while Emilia took to fashion and outfits like a duck to water... conversations were less of her forte, especially those of the political ilk. Unlike Persephone, Emilia had no head for politics or noble matters, and talks of taxes, laws and regulations made her head spin.
So while she had started the night excited to show off her new dress, before the night was halfway through, Emilia was quite readily exhausted, and had begun to shrink to the sides of the hall to avoid further conversations. Once she could, Emilia turned, about to head for a door that she knew led to the gardens, when her steps stopped short when a man... who Emilia quickly realized seemed exceedingly handsome, gestured at her with a smile that easily made her pull up short in surprise.
Recovering quickly to realize what he had said, Emilia hurriedly pasted an amused smile on her face, hiding a small laugh as she nodded. "I wouldn't call this a menagerie... but I am a tad tired, yes indeed." Did she recognize him?Maybe if she paid more attention to her lessons and tutors, she would, but with the dark flickering lamps, Emilia could barely recall if he was of noble birth.
Of course, in hindsight, one would call it foolish to step out into a darkened garden with a person they could barely know... but she was used to her childhoom home being entirely safe.
Plus, she was a foolish young girl.
Chuckling as the man rapped his breastplate - obviously one of military background - Emilia stepped forward as he gestured for her to go first, exiting through the door, and taking a deep breathe as the brisk wind greeted them, fresh as compared to the stale and stuffy air within the Grand Hall. Picking up the corners of her dress, she turned to offer a smile at the dashing man who had been behind her. "Are you more at home on a training field then in a court session then, my lord?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice as she meandered down a pathway, only dimly lit by the sparse lamps outside. "I must confess, despite being brought up in such situations, they are stifling even for me... so I can't imagine you're entirely at home in there."
His skin itched; to the extent that Stelios had to ball his hands into fists to keep from scratching his shoulders. That's what unease did to him, so foreign was the concept and it always fell on him like a sodden wool cloak whenever he was forced into the polite confines of high society. 'Fish out of water' would be an understatement. He'd be too far away to even see the ocean by the time he found his way back into the blessedly finished audience.
Even the air this cavernous, palatial room felt stifling to him and breathing came labored. His lungs burned for the oxygen of a more relaxed environment and he was fit to seek it out as quickly as his long legs could carry him when he'd spied the beautifully-attired lady. There were far worse fates than taking the night air with unexpected company. Somehow her delicate features struck him as familiar though he couldn't say from where or how. A moment of study was banished with a blink, focusing on her words instead and a smile that made even his stout heart quicken. "I'm more at home anywhere than at court, good lady," he affirmed, tempting to tack on 'even in a whorehouse' but decided against it given the quality of his companion in seeking respite away from the audience hall.
Following her out, Stelios could not fail to notice the fine cut of the dress that caught the gentle breeze just so or the crown atop her head, seemingly set on silver fire by the light of the moon. Grateful she knew the layout of the gardens, Stelios accompanied the still unknown noblewoman down a cobbled path, beneath a bower of sweet-smelling buds and framed by hedges granting a conspiratorial privacy. "As a child I used to look for any excuse to sneak away," he nodded back towards the way they'd come and the palace rising stately in all its marble grandeur. Again, he took a moment to study her, and paid better attention to dulcet words now that they were out in the open air. "And as an adult I avoid formal functions at all cost unless family duty requires it. Duty ... what a kick in the teeth. Those who can't boast noble birth may envy our kind but they're spared a lot of tedium and silly, superficial nonsense, hrmm?" He assumed she must be from one of the other great Houses. Had to be with beauty and poise like that ... but his assumptions never veered anywhere near the truth. "If it isn't presumptuous of me to say, you looked lovely enough to demand I stop on my quest to get the hell out of there," the rough-edged commander tried his best at a compliment and even a faint smile that made his features soften into something far more boyish than his years. "Even the princesses should be jealous."
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His skin itched; to the extent that Stelios had to ball his hands into fists to keep from scratching his shoulders. That's what unease did to him, so foreign was the concept and it always fell on him like a sodden wool cloak whenever he was forced into the polite confines of high society. 'Fish out of water' would be an understatement. He'd be too far away to even see the ocean by the time he found his way back into the blessedly finished audience.
Even the air this cavernous, palatial room felt stifling to him and breathing came labored. His lungs burned for the oxygen of a more relaxed environment and he was fit to seek it out as quickly as his long legs could carry him when he'd spied the beautifully-attired lady. There were far worse fates than taking the night air with unexpected company. Somehow her delicate features struck him as familiar though he couldn't say from where or how. A moment of study was banished with a blink, focusing on her words instead and a smile that made even his stout heart quicken. "I'm more at home anywhere than at court, good lady," he affirmed, tempting to tack on 'even in a whorehouse' but decided against it given the quality of his companion in seeking respite away from the audience hall.
Following her out, Stelios could not fail to notice the fine cut of the dress that caught the gentle breeze just so or the crown atop her head, seemingly set on silver fire by the light of the moon. Grateful she knew the layout of the gardens, Stelios accompanied the still unknown noblewoman down a cobbled path, beneath a bower of sweet-smelling buds and framed by hedges granting a conspiratorial privacy. "As a child I used to look for any excuse to sneak away," he nodded back towards the way they'd come and the palace rising stately in all its marble grandeur. Again, he took a moment to study her, and paid better attention to dulcet words now that they were out in the open air. "And as an adult I avoid formal functions at all cost unless family duty requires it. Duty ... what a kick in the teeth. Those who can't boast noble birth may envy our kind but they're spared a lot of tedium and silly, superficial nonsense, hrmm?" He assumed she must be from one of the other great Houses. Had to be with beauty and poise like that ... but his assumptions never veered anywhere near the truth. "If it isn't presumptuous of me to say, you looked lovely enough to demand I stop on my quest to get the hell out of there," the rough-edged commander tried his best at a compliment and even a faint smile that made his features soften into something far more boyish than his years. "Even the princesses should be jealous."
His skin itched; to the extent that Stelios had to ball his hands into fists to keep from scratching his shoulders. That's what unease did to him, so foreign was the concept and it always fell on him like a sodden wool cloak whenever he was forced into the polite confines of high society. 'Fish out of water' would be an understatement. He'd be too far away to even see the ocean by the time he found his way back into the blessedly finished audience.
Even the air this cavernous, palatial room felt stifling to him and breathing came labored. His lungs burned for the oxygen of a more relaxed environment and he was fit to seek it out as quickly as his long legs could carry him when he'd spied the beautifully-attired lady. There were far worse fates than taking the night air with unexpected company. Somehow her delicate features struck him as familiar though he couldn't say from where or how. A moment of study was banished with a blink, focusing on her words instead and a smile that made even his stout heart quicken. "I'm more at home anywhere than at court, good lady," he affirmed, tempting to tack on 'even in a whorehouse' but decided against it given the quality of his companion in seeking respite away from the audience hall.
Following her out, Stelios could not fail to notice the fine cut of the dress that caught the gentle breeze just so or the crown atop her head, seemingly set on silver fire by the light of the moon. Grateful she knew the layout of the gardens, Stelios accompanied the still unknown noblewoman down a cobbled path, beneath a bower of sweet-smelling buds and framed by hedges granting a conspiratorial privacy. "As a child I used to look for any excuse to sneak away," he nodded back towards the way they'd come and the palace rising stately in all its marble grandeur. Again, he took a moment to study her, and paid better attention to dulcet words now that they were out in the open air. "And as an adult I avoid formal functions at all cost unless family duty requires it. Duty ... what a kick in the teeth. Those who can't boast noble birth may envy our kind but they're spared a lot of tedium and silly, superficial nonsense, hrmm?" He assumed she must be from one of the other great Houses. Had to be with beauty and poise like that ... but his assumptions never veered anywhere near the truth. "If it isn't presumptuous of me to say, you looked lovely enough to demand I stop on my quest to get the hell out of there," the rough-edged commander tried his best at a compliment and even a faint smile that made his features soften into something far more boyish than his years. "Even the princesses should be jealous."
It wouldn't be too long before her guards and lady's maids came looking for her. They never liked leaving her unattended for long, and while Emilia did not mind their company, constantly being trailed by a dozen people at any given time could get quite stifling for her. It was why the young princess had chosen to head to the gardens, for the lower light there meant the others would have a harder time finding her.
Hiding a laugh when he admitted as much as Emilia had guessed, the princess couldn't say she was surprised. There were not many military men who were comfortable in court, even dressed as Stelios was. Most of them would attend in fancy chitons, trussed up to the nines in gold and accessories, and looked deucedly uncomfortable that it has become a game between Emilia and the handmaidens closest to her, on who would balk and bolt from the festivities first.
Nodding to agree whilst they headed down the cobbled path, in a way, Emilia was unlike him. She had loved court sessions, but not for the reasons most people had. Many of the Athenian nobility enjoyed the sessions for its ability to bring together people to speak - or gossip, in their case - but Emilia simply loved it because it gave her an excuse to dress up prettily and use all her new silks and material. Give it an hour or so, and she'd be exhausted and eager to return. Yet as a princess and the younger sister to Persephone, she was not given that liberty, and was taught responsibility enough to know not to go bolting.
"It is a shame not all of us can avoid formal functions though, for family duty is a heavy hammer indeed." she commiserated, tucking a stray lock of her brunette hair behind her ear. "Superficial nonsense indeed. But perhaps that is our trade off for an infinitely more comfortable life?" Emilia finished off with a smile in his direction. Her steps had slowed as they came to a fountain in the center of the gardens, a fountain that could be seen if one were to open the doors to te library just above, a library Emilia often found herself trapped in when her tutors came to have her lessons.
Picking up her dress material, the girl dropped down to sit by the edge of the gentle moving waters, the marble edges just wide enough to function as benches. Patting the seat next to her in invitation, her eyes widened as his final words, and a faint blush Stelios may or may not see in the dim lighting colored her cheeks, only for the flushed look to be replaced by surprise. Did he not realize who she was?
Deciding to play along however, she cleared her throat a little and spoke with a light lilt in her tone. "I hope they are not. I'm not sure if one would like to face a jealous princess." A hint of a tease underlaid her words, a glint of a laugh in her hazel depths before she continued. "Are you familiar with the princesses, my lord...?" Emilia trailed off towards the end, turning a questioning look to the male as she realized she did not know his name.
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It wouldn't be too long before her guards and lady's maids came looking for her. They never liked leaving her unattended for long, and while Emilia did not mind their company, constantly being trailed by a dozen people at any given time could get quite stifling for her. It was why the young princess had chosen to head to the gardens, for the lower light there meant the others would have a harder time finding her.
Hiding a laugh when he admitted as much as Emilia had guessed, the princess couldn't say she was surprised. There were not many military men who were comfortable in court, even dressed as Stelios was. Most of them would attend in fancy chitons, trussed up to the nines in gold and accessories, and looked deucedly uncomfortable that it has become a game between Emilia and the handmaidens closest to her, on who would balk and bolt from the festivities first.
Nodding to agree whilst they headed down the cobbled path, in a way, Emilia was unlike him. She had loved court sessions, but not for the reasons most people had. Many of the Athenian nobility enjoyed the sessions for its ability to bring together people to speak - or gossip, in their case - but Emilia simply loved it because it gave her an excuse to dress up prettily and use all her new silks and material. Give it an hour or so, and she'd be exhausted and eager to return. Yet as a princess and the younger sister to Persephone, she was not given that liberty, and was taught responsibility enough to know not to go bolting.
"It is a shame not all of us can avoid formal functions though, for family duty is a heavy hammer indeed." she commiserated, tucking a stray lock of her brunette hair behind her ear. "Superficial nonsense indeed. But perhaps that is our trade off for an infinitely more comfortable life?" Emilia finished off with a smile in his direction. Her steps had slowed as they came to a fountain in the center of the gardens, a fountain that could be seen if one were to open the doors to te library just above, a library Emilia often found herself trapped in when her tutors came to have her lessons.
Picking up her dress material, the girl dropped down to sit by the edge of the gentle moving waters, the marble edges just wide enough to function as benches. Patting the seat next to her in invitation, her eyes widened as his final words, and a faint blush Stelios may or may not see in the dim lighting colored her cheeks, only for the flushed look to be replaced by surprise. Did he not realize who she was?
Deciding to play along however, she cleared her throat a little and spoke with a light lilt in her tone. "I hope they are not. I'm not sure if one would like to face a jealous princess." A hint of a tease underlaid her words, a glint of a laugh in her hazel depths before she continued. "Are you familiar with the princesses, my lord...?" Emilia trailed off towards the end, turning a questioning look to the male as she realized she did not know his name.
It wouldn't be too long before her guards and lady's maids came looking for her. They never liked leaving her unattended for long, and while Emilia did not mind their company, constantly being trailed by a dozen people at any given time could get quite stifling for her. It was why the young princess had chosen to head to the gardens, for the lower light there meant the others would have a harder time finding her.
Hiding a laugh when he admitted as much as Emilia had guessed, the princess couldn't say she was surprised. There were not many military men who were comfortable in court, even dressed as Stelios was. Most of them would attend in fancy chitons, trussed up to the nines in gold and accessories, and looked deucedly uncomfortable that it has become a game between Emilia and the handmaidens closest to her, on who would balk and bolt from the festivities first.
Nodding to agree whilst they headed down the cobbled path, in a way, Emilia was unlike him. She had loved court sessions, but not for the reasons most people had. Many of the Athenian nobility enjoyed the sessions for its ability to bring together people to speak - or gossip, in their case - but Emilia simply loved it because it gave her an excuse to dress up prettily and use all her new silks and material. Give it an hour or so, and she'd be exhausted and eager to return. Yet as a princess and the younger sister to Persephone, she was not given that liberty, and was taught responsibility enough to know not to go bolting.
"It is a shame not all of us can avoid formal functions though, for family duty is a heavy hammer indeed." she commiserated, tucking a stray lock of her brunette hair behind her ear. "Superficial nonsense indeed. But perhaps that is our trade off for an infinitely more comfortable life?" Emilia finished off with a smile in his direction. Her steps had slowed as they came to a fountain in the center of the gardens, a fountain that could be seen if one were to open the doors to te library just above, a library Emilia often found herself trapped in when her tutors came to have her lessons.
Picking up her dress material, the girl dropped down to sit by the edge of the gentle moving waters, the marble edges just wide enough to function as benches. Patting the seat next to her in invitation, her eyes widened as his final words, and a faint blush Stelios may or may not see in the dim lighting colored her cheeks, only for the flushed look to be replaced by surprise. Did he not realize who she was?
Deciding to play along however, she cleared her throat a little and spoke with a light lilt in her tone. "I hope they are not. I'm not sure if one would like to face a jealous princess." A hint of a tease underlaid her words, a glint of a laugh in her hazel depths before she continued. "Are you familiar with the princesses, my lord...?" Emilia trailed off towards the end, turning a questioning look to the male as she realized she did not know his name.
Everything about his unlikely companion for the evening required protection and attention. Nearly a foot shorter, poised, delicate, and so very young ... he could see that much beneath the thousand stars set like gems shining down from the wine-dark sky. Under other circumstances he'd have felt quite foolish; graceless mountain of a man that he was, but her smile set him at ease and sparked a curiosity rarely permitted by the copper-headed ox who tended to charge away from social interaction rather than greet it with open arms.
The pettiness and falsehood of court rankled him more than anything else. Even his own ineptitude at conversation Stelios could find ways to ignore but not the proud emptiness of frittering fools who cared only about appearances. He was incapable of hypocrisy. Life in the army and the moral imperatives drummed into him by his heroic father kept the commander cleaving towards honesty and openness even if it offended. He never pulled punches with his soldiers so why bother sparing the fragile sensibilities of his fellow nobles? He couldn't. Wouldn't. And that made functions like tonight's a natural enemy of every virtue Stelios held dear.
Almost.
"I choose to believe, and live, in a way that sacrifices as much as possible of the advantages noble birth gave me," he settled down beside the woman whose reflection in the shifting water couldn't do justice to the faint kiss of a blush that blessed her cheeks. His grey eyes softened, a little self-conscious but nothing his natural bravery couldn't overcome. Large hands knitted against the back of his head, Stelios glancing skyward at the vault of heaven with pin-points of fire keeping the blackness at bay. "That's one thing I enjoy about a garrison camp far away from Athenia's comforts. Hard beds, vinegared wine, the constant war against dirt and dust ... it's an honest existence. No one has to hide behind pleasantries. Hell, no one can! Not in those close quarters." He might have ventured a wink, hard to tell as swift as it was.
"We don't have many princesses, though. Or kind, gentle noblewomen." Stelios fixed a sidelong glance at the woman beside him, shoulders shaking with a little silent laughter. "They wouldn't care for my sort, our princesses. These ..." he pulled his arms back down, turned his palms upward to show hands that had never shirked from hard larbor and harder combat, "aren't the hands of acceptable, polite nobility. They're calloused from years of holding reins, grasping swords, rough fighting and shameless fu ... just fighting," he caught himself before he could get out a ribald comment completely. "I'm Stelios, of the house of Antonis. And you probably think I'm a damn fool by now, eh?"
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Everything about his unlikely companion for the evening required protection and attention. Nearly a foot shorter, poised, delicate, and so very young ... he could see that much beneath the thousand stars set like gems shining down from the wine-dark sky. Under other circumstances he'd have felt quite foolish; graceless mountain of a man that he was, but her smile set him at ease and sparked a curiosity rarely permitted by the copper-headed ox who tended to charge away from social interaction rather than greet it with open arms.
The pettiness and falsehood of court rankled him more than anything else. Even his own ineptitude at conversation Stelios could find ways to ignore but not the proud emptiness of frittering fools who cared only about appearances. He was incapable of hypocrisy. Life in the army and the moral imperatives drummed into him by his heroic father kept the commander cleaving towards honesty and openness even if it offended. He never pulled punches with his soldiers so why bother sparing the fragile sensibilities of his fellow nobles? He couldn't. Wouldn't. And that made functions like tonight's a natural enemy of every virtue Stelios held dear.
Almost.
"I choose to believe, and live, in a way that sacrifices as much as possible of the advantages noble birth gave me," he settled down beside the woman whose reflection in the shifting water couldn't do justice to the faint kiss of a blush that blessed her cheeks. His grey eyes softened, a little self-conscious but nothing his natural bravery couldn't overcome. Large hands knitted against the back of his head, Stelios glancing skyward at the vault of heaven with pin-points of fire keeping the blackness at bay. "That's one thing I enjoy about a garrison camp far away from Athenia's comforts. Hard beds, vinegared wine, the constant war against dirt and dust ... it's an honest existence. No one has to hide behind pleasantries. Hell, no one can! Not in those close quarters." He might have ventured a wink, hard to tell as swift as it was.
"We don't have many princesses, though. Or kind, gentle noblewomen." Stelios fixed a sidelong glance at the woman beside him, shoulders shaking with a little silent laughter. "They wouldn't care for my sort, our princesses. These ..." he pulled his arms back down, turned his palms upward to show hands that had never shirked from hard larbor and harder combat, "aren't the hands of acceptable, polite nobility. They're calloused from years of holding reins, grasping swords, rough fighting and shameless fu ... just fighting," he caught himself before he could get out a ribald comment completely. "I'm Stelios, of the house of Antonis. And you probably think I'm a damn fool by now, eh?"
Everything about his unlikely companion for the evening required protection and attention. Nearly a foot shorter, poised, delicate, and so very young ... he could see that much beneath the thousand stars set like gems shining down from the wine-dark sky. Under other circumstances he'd have felt quite foolish; graceless mountain of a man that he was, but her smile set him at ease and sparked a curiosity rarely permitted by the copper-headed ox who tended to charge away from social interaction rather than greet it with open arms.
The pettiness and falsehood of court rankled him more than anything else. Even his own ineptitude at conversation Stelios could find ways to ignore but not the proud emptiness of frittering fools who cared only about appearances. He was incapable of hypocrisy. Life in the army and the moral imperatives drummed into him by his heroic father kept the commander cleaving towards honesty and openness even if it offended. He never pulled punches with his soldiers so why bother sparing the fragile sensibilities of his fellow nobles? He couldn't. Wouldn't. And that made functions like tonight's a natural enemy of every virtue Stelios held dear.
Almost.
"I choose to believe, and live, in a way that sacrifices as much as possible of the advantages noble birth gave me," he settled down beside the woman whose reflection in the shifting water couldn't do justice to the faint kiss of a blush that blessed her cheeks. His grey eyes softened, a little self-conscious but nothing his natural bravery couldn't overcome. Large hands knitted against the back of his head, Stelios glancing skyward at the vault of heaven with pin-points of fire keeping the blackness at bay. "That's one thing I enjoy about a garrison camp far away from Athenia's comforts. Hard beds, vinegared wine, the constant war against dirt and dust ... it's an honest existence. No one has to hide behind pleasantries. Hell, no one can! Not in those close quarters." He might have ventured a wink, hard to tell as swift as it was.
"We don't have many princesses, though. Or kind, gentle noblewomen." Stelios fixed a sidelong glance at the woman beside him, shoulders shaking with a little silent laughter. "They wouldn't care for my sort, our princesses. These ..." he pulled his arms back down, turned his palms upward to show hands that had never shirked from hard larbor and harder combat, "aren't the hands of acceptable, polite nobility. They're calloused from years of holding reins, grasping swords, rough fighting and shameless fu ... just fighting," he caught himself before he could get out a ribald comment completely. "I'm Stelios, of the house of Antonis. And you probably think I'm a damn fool by now, eh?"
It wasn't surprising, that many of royal or noble birth, seemed to want to eschew all that came with the circumstances of their birth, to live life according to the commonfolk that they watched over, just as how the commonfolk would love to have a life that was like the noble people they looked up to. What was the phrase? The grass was greener on the other side? In a way, Emilia could see it... but she herself, did not have a preferential treatment of which side she would rather be on. She was fine as a princess, allowed full acess to all material of silks and cloth, leather and jewels that she could ever want, for Emilia felt as if she would be bereft without them.
Yet she couldn't say she wasn't curious of how life would be like, if she was born with no crown on her head.
It was a museful look that drifted away from Stelios to instead, settle on the stars and the moon above them as they considered his words. Sacrifice the advantages her royal birth gave her? Emilia looked up to that sort of living... but she wasn't sure if she could do so herself, to live without the money and comfort her life as a princess offered her. But that did not mean she had no empathy for her people. She loved them dearly, and would help them as far as she could... she was just no ruling material.
Looking over as the man described an army garrison, she was quite sure his words rang true. She doubted the men of the army would be able to know how to function around noble women... or princesses, really. But sometimes Emilia wondered, why did they have to behave any differently? She disliked it when people fell over their own two feet to please her, yet her father had told her before it was a circumstance of her birth. A curse that comes with all the blessings, and it was why Emilia's friends were so scarce, she could count them on one hand.
"Well, do you know our princesses then?" she murmured, curiousity in her tone as she looked at the upward palms. Reaching out, the brunette trailed a finger across the calluses and scars that came from obvious hard training. "After all, the princesses would one day be Queens, and leaders of their own right. I'm quite sure they would understand the hardships a soldier would have to go through, and appreciate all they sacrifice to ensure the safety of crown and kingdom." It was one of the first things Minas had taught her, way back when she was younger and had just passed her twelfth birthday. On the brink of entering court in just a few years, her father had brought her to the nearest training grounds of the army, and taught her the bravery of the men, who would protect her life with their own, and that Emilia must appreciate them all.
Young Emilia had taken that lesson to heart, and that had bloomed into the kind disposition in which she used to treat everyone from peasant to royalty, in her position today. Status mattered naught to Emilia, outside of the fact that she could not choose who she eventually would marry.
"These may not be the hands of polite nobility, but they are the hands of the honorable men who had spent years protecting these polite nobility you speak of." her voice was gentle as she turned to let her hazel gaze fall softly on Stelios again. "A fight for our honor is a fight all Athenians should thank you for, Lord Stelios of Antonis. And no, I do not think you are a fool at all."
Yet just before Emilia could introduce herself, a flurry of skirts made the approach known, before three harried looking lady's maids appeared around a corner, and rushed to bow to Emilia, before loudly calling her. "Princess Emilia, we're sorry to have lost track of your location. Please accept our humblest apologies."
Biting back a curse, Emilia rose and waved a hand at the maids, shaking a head as she brushed away their apology, before turning to Stelios with an abashed look on her face. The girl gave the general a little curtsy, and offered an apologetic smile. "I enjoyed our conversation, Lord Stelios. Perhaps... you would visit? I'm sure my sister and father would not object if you were to pay me a social call." The princess thanked the dark for hiding a flush on her cheek as she invited the young man over. As forward as it seems... Emilia was not a worshipper of Aphrodite for nothing.
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It wasn't surprising, that many of royal or noble birth, seemed to want to eschew all that came with the circumstances of their birth, to live life according to the commonfolk that they watched over, just as how the commonfolk would love to have a life that was like the noble people they looked up to. What was the phrase? The grass was greener on the other side? In a way, Emilia could see it... but she herself, did not have a preferential treatment of which side she would rather be on. She was fine as a princess, allowed full acess to all material of silks and cloth, leather and jewels that she could ever want, for Emilia felt as if she would be bereft without them.
Yet she couldn't say she wasn't curious of how life would be like, if she was born with no crown on her head.
It was a museful look that drifted away from Stelios to instead, settle on the stars and the moon above them as they considered his words. Sacrifice the advantages her royal birth gave her? Emilia looked up to that sort of living... but she wasn't sure if she could do so herself, to live without the money and comfort her life as a princess offered her. But that did not mean she had no empathy for her people. She loved them dearly, and would help them as far as she could... she was just no ruling material.
Looking over as the man described an army garrison, she was quite sure his words rang true. She doubted the men of the army would be able to know how to function around noble women... or princesses, really. But sometimes Emilia wondered, why did they have to behave any differently? She disliked it when people fell over their own two feet to please her, yet her father had told her before it was a circumstance of her birth. A curse that comes with all the blessings, and it was why Emilia's friends were so scarce, she could count them on one hand.
"Well, do you know our princesses then?" she murmured, curiousity in her tone as she looked at the upward palms. Reaching out, the brunette trailed a finger across the calluses and scars that came from obvious hard training. "After all, the princesses would one day be Queens, and leaders of their own right. I'm quite sure they would understand the hardships a soldier would have to go through, and appreciate all they sacrifice to ensure the safety of crown and kingdom." It was one of the first things Minas had taught her, way back when she was younger and had just passed her twelfth birthday. On the brink of entering court in just a few years, her father had brought her to the nearest training grounds of the army, and taught her the bravery of the men, who would protect her life with their own, and that Emilia must appreciate them all.
Young Emilia had taken that lesson to heart, and that had bloomed into the kind disposition in which she used to treat everyone from peasant to royalty, in her position today. Status mattered naught to Emilia, outside of the fact that she could not choose who she eventually would marry.
"These may not be the hands of polite nobility, but they are the hands of the honorable men who had spent years protecting these polite nobility you speak of." her voice was gentle as she turned to let her hazel gaze fall softly on Stelios again. "A fight for our honor is a fight all Athenians should thank you for, Lord Stelios of Antonis. And no, I do not think you are a fool at all."
Yet just before Emilia could introduce herself, a flurry of skirts made the approach known, before three harried looking lady's maids appeared around a corner, and rushed to bow to Emilia, before loudly calling her. "Princess Emilia, we're sorry to have lost track of your location. Please accept our humblest apologies."
Biting back a curse, Emilia rose and waved a hand at the maids, shaking a head as she brushed away their apology, before turning to Stelios with an abashed look on her face. The girl gave the general a little curtsy, and offered an apologetic smile. "I enjoyed our conversation, Lord Stelios. Perhaps... you would visit? I'm sure my sister and father would not object if you were to pay me a social call." The princess thanked the dark for hiding a flush on her cheek as she invited the young man over. As forward as it seems... Emilia was not a worshipper of Aphrodite for nothing.
It wasn't surprising, that many of royal or noble birth, seemed to want to eschew all that came with the circumstances of their birth, to live life according to the commonfolk that they watched over, just as how the commonfolk would love to have a life that was like the noble people they looked up to. What was the phrase? The grass was greener on the other side? In a way, Emilia could see it... but she herself, did not have a preferential treatment of which side she would rather be on. She was fine as a princess, allowed full acess to all material of silks and cloth, leather and jewels that she could ever want, for Emilia felt as if she would be bereft without them.
Yet she couldn't say she wasn't curious of how life would be like, if she was born with no crown on her head.
It was a museful look that drifted away from Stelios to instead, settle on the stars and the moon above them as they considered his words. Sacrifice the advantages her royal birth gave her? Emilia looked up to that sort of living... but she wasn't sure if she could do so herself, to live without the money and comfort her life as a princess offered her. But that did not mean she had no empathy for her people. She loved them dearly, and would help them as far as she could... she was just no ruling material.
Looking over as the man described an army garrison, she was quite sure his words rang true. She doubted the men of the army would be able to know how to function around noble women... or princesses, really. But sometimes Emilia wondered, why did they have to behave any differently? She disliked it when people fell over their own two feet to please her, yet her father had told her before it was a circumstance of her birth. A curse that comes with all the blessings, and it was why Emilia's friends were so scarce, she could count them on one hand.
"Well, do you know our princesses then?" she murmured, curiousity in her tone as she looked at the upward palms. Reaching out, the brunette trailed a finger across the calluses and scars that came from obvious hard training. "After all, the princesses would one day be Queens, and leaders of their own right. I'm quite sure they would understand the hardships a soldier would have to go through, and appreciate all they sacrifice to ensure the safety of crown and kingdom." It was one of the first things Minas had taught her, way back when she was younger and had just passed her twelfth birthday. On the brink of entering court in just a few years, her father had brought her to the nearest training grounds of the army, and taught her the bravery of the men, who would protect her life with their own, and that Emilia must appreciate them all.
Young Emilia had taken that lesson to heart, and that had bloomed into the kind disposition in which she used to treat everyone from peasant to royalty, in her position today. Status mattered naught to Emilia, outside of the fact that she could not choose who she eventually would marry.
"These may not be the hands of polite nobility, but they are the hands of the honorable men who had spent years protecting these polite nobility you speak of." her voice was gentle as she turned to let her hazel gaze fall softly on Stelios again. "A fight for our honor is a fight all Athenians should thank you for, Lord Stelios of Antonis. And no, I do not think you are a fool at all."
Yet just before Emilia could introduce herself, a flurry of skirts made the approach known, before three harried looking lady's maids appeared around a corner, and rushed to bow to Emilia, before loudly calling her. "Princess Emilia, we're sorry to have lost track of your location. Please accept our humblest apologies."
Biting back a curse, Emilia rose and waved a hand at the maids, shaking a head as she brushed away their apology, before turning to Stelios with an abashed look on her face. The girl gave the general a little curtsy, and offered an apologetic smile. "I enjoyed our conversation, Lord Stelios. Perhaps... you would visit? I'm sure my sister and father would not object if you were to pay me a social call." The princess thanked the dark for hiding a flush on her cheek as she invited the young man over. As forward as it seems... Emilia was not a worshipper of Aphrodite for nothing.
Some said that Stelios was built like a mountain and the analogy applied to more than his height. All of his surfaces were hard. Sharp. Craggy. His life had known so little softness since the death of his mother. There was no supply of gentle things in an army encampment. There was no silk upon a hard campaign cot which was his only couch at night. He did not consider beauty because it didn't penetrate his dark, stormy gaze. Which made the (he still assumed) noblewoman at his side even more of a fascination. He smiled weakly to answer her question, shaking his head slowly. "I only know of them, and of what I've seen on them on my few court functions in recent years. My father usually attends those ... and I'm usually out on some muddy plain on manoeuvers. I don't think I've seen either of the princesses in a few years. What I remember are beautiful women, worthy of the burden placed on their shoulders. They have to be."
He shrugged the broad ledges of his own arms. "We all do. Some things in life we can't choose. We have to accept them and deal with those circumstances because failing to do so means those who depend upon us are put at risk. Some look up at this palace and envy life in it. I don't. It's a sacrifice to serve Athenia with few moments of true, honest comfort to lighten the load. But if you don't mind my saying ... This is one of those mome ... fuck," he cursed, overwhelmed instead of angry, as the gentle maiden traced the evidence of hardship on his hands. It almost seemed to sanctify the scars and ease the roughness that had to be felt against lithe, cool digits which deserved to know nothing of hardship.
He fought the urge to lift her hands and kiss them in thanks both for what was done and what was said. "I am a fool who's too coarse and too rough for his own good," Stelios started in. But if he thought he knew awkwardness then it was nothing compared to the near palpable smack of shock as a servant rushed in and made clear what the damn fool should have known at first glance. This was no noblewoman. This was a princess and he was a dumbass. Stelios staggered back to his feet and bowed low, his brow creasing with apologetic self-awareness. "And the stupidest man in Athenia tonight, Your Highness. Visit?" He laughed ruefully and shuffled his feet against the gravel. "I'm not worthy to call on you. You could have me flung from the nearest cliff and no one would blame you for it. I'll leave before I can do my already questionable reputation any more harm. I ..." He reluctantly met her gaze again, and hid an unsettled soul behind a thin but genuine smile, his thumb idly tracing over the palm she'd touched. "I enjoyed our conversation, too."
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Some said that Stelios was built like a mountain and the analogy applied to more than his height. All of his surfaces were hard. Sharp. Craggy. His life had known so little softness since the death of his mother. There was no supply of gentle things in an army encampment. There was no silk upon a hard campaign cot which was his only couch at night. He did not consider beauty because it didn't penetrate his dark, stormy gaze. Which made the (he still assumed) noblewoman at his side even more of a fascination. He smiled weakly to answer her question, shaking his head slowly. "I only know of them, and of what I've seen on them on my few court functions in recent years. My father usually attends those ... and I'm usually out on some muddy plain on manoeuvers. I don't think I've seen either of the princesses in a few years. What I remember are beautiful women, worthy of the burden placed on their shoulders. They have to be."
He shrugged the broad ledges of his own arms. "We all do. Some things in life we can't choose. We have to accept them and deal with those circumstances because failing to do so means those who depend upon us are put at risk. Some look up at this palace and envy life in it. I don't. It's a sacrifice to serve Athenia with few moments of true, honest comfort to lighten the load. But if you don't mind my saying ... This is one of those mome ... fuck," he cursed, overwhelmed instead of angry, as the gentle maiden traced the evidence of hardship on his hands. It almost seemed to sanctify the scars and ease the roughness that had to be felt against lithe, cool digits which deserved to know nothing of hardship.
He fought the urge to lift her hands and kiss them in thanks both for what was done and what was said. "I am a fool who's too coarse and too rough for his own good," Stelios started in. But if he thought he knew awkwardness then it was nothing compared to the near palpable smack of shock as a servant rushed in and made clear what the damn fool should have known at first glance. This was no noblewoman. This was a princess and he was a dumbass. Stelios staggered back to his feet and bowed low, his brow creasing with apologetic self-awareness. "And the stupidest man in Athenia tonight, Your Highness. Visit?" He laughed ruefully and shuffled his feet against the gravel. "I'm not worthy to call on you. You could have me flung from the nearest cliff and no one would blame you for it. I'll leave before I can do my already questionable reputation any more harm. I ..." He reluctantly met her gaze again, and hid an unsettled soul behind a thin but genuine smile, his thumb idly tracing over the palm she'd touched. "I enjoyed our conversation, too."
Some said that Stelios was built like a mountain and the analogy applied to more than his height. All of his surfaces were hard. Sharp. Craggy. His life had known so little softness since the death of his mother. There was no supply of gentle things in an army encampment. There was no silk upon a hard campaign cot which was his only couch at night. He did not consider beauty because it didn't penetrate his dark, stormy gaze. Which made the (he still assumed) noblewoman at his side even more of a fascination. He smiled weakly to answer her question, shaking his head slowly. "I only know of them, and of what I've seen on them on my few court functions in recent years. My father usually attends those ... and I'm usually out on some muddy plain on manoeuvers. I don't think I've seen either of the princesses in a few years. What I remember are beautiful women, worthy of the burden placed on their shoulders. They have to be."
He shrugged the broad ledges of his own arms. "We all do. Some things in life we can't choose. We have to accept them and deal with those circumstances because failing to do so means those who depend upon us are put at risk. Some look up at this palace and envy life in it. I don't. It's a sacrifice to serve Athenia with few moments of true, honest comfort to lighten the load. But if you don't mind my saying ... This is one of those mome ... fuck," he cursed, overwhelmed instead of angry, as the gentle maiden traced the evidence of hardship on his hands. It almost seemed to sanctify the scars and ease the roughness that had to be felt against lithe, cool digits which deserved to know nothing of hardship.
He fought the urge to lift her hands and kiss them in thanks both for what was done and what was said. "I am a fool who's too coarse and too rough for his own good," Stelios started in. But if he thought he knew awkwardness then it was nothing compared to the near palpable smack of shock as a servant rushed in and made clear what the damn fool should have known at first glance. This was no noblewoman. This was a princess and he was a dumbass. Stelios staggered back to his feet and bowed low, his brow creasing with apologetic self-awareness. "And the stupidest man in Athenia tonight, Your Highness. Visit?" He laughed ruefully and shuffled his feet against the gravel. "I'm not worthy to call on you. You could have me flung from the nearest cliff and no one would blame you for it. I'll leave before I can do my already questionable reputation any more harm. I ..." He reluctantly met her gaze again, and hid an unsettled soul behind a thin but genuine smile, his thumb idly tracing over the palm she'd touched. "I enjoyed our conversation, too."
Perhaps she had been a little forward, but the young princess of Athenia had never been one to shy away from someone she had fancied - and let it be known, that she has fancied many men over the short sixteen years of her life. If one were to ask Persephone, one would know exactly how many girls Emilia had fantasized herself in love with, a phenomenon that had simply gotten worst as she had grown older and started attending court sessions, broadening her pool of men to choose from.
Shaking her head as Stelios staggered back on his feet and bowed low, the brunette held a hand up to stay her maids behind her, and instead approached Stelios to lay a hand on his upper arm, a kind smile on her features. "I think your worthiness is my call to make, since it is me you would be calling on? And I would be happy to have you as my guest." she replied, her tone smooth and soothing. Emilia did not see why he should bring himself down so. Was he not a decorated general in his own right? That was as much as she had gathered from their short conversation. How could a solider not be welcomed, when it was them who protected the sanctity of her home?
Taking a step back however, she would respect his wishes, but that did not mean she would heed his wishes to not call on her. Making a mental note to pen out a short missive she would have a errand boy deliver to Stelios of Antonis to ensure he had not made her angry in anyway, and in fact the princess would love to continue their acquaintenceship, the girl stepped back to the fold her maid's made.
"I am happy you enjoyed my company, as I did yours, Lord Stelios. I'm afraid that 'family duty' we speak of calls me again, for my father requires my audience. But I do wish to see you again, my lord." With a final curtsy given to him, Emilia disappeared in a flurry of skirts by her maids to attend to the ailing King Minas, but not without a secret smile on her face. Come night time after her father had went to bed, Emilia would scurry to her sister's rooms, and repeat that time-old tradition of falling on Persephone's beds while regaling her sister with the story of the conversation in the gardens she had with Stelios, a handsome men who would no doubt haunt her dreams for the night.
But for now, she merely smiled.
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Perhaps she had been a little forward, but the young princess of Athenia had never been one to shy away from someone she had fancied - and let it be known, that she has fancied many men over the short sixteen years of her life. If one were to ask Persephone, one would know exactly how many girls Emilia had fantasized herself in love with, a phenomenon that had simply gotten worst as she had grown older and started attending court sessions, broadening her pool of men to choose from.
Shaking her head as Stelios staggered back on his feet and bowed low, the brunette held a hand up to stay her maids behind her, and instead approached Stelios to lay a hand on his upper arm, a kind smile on her features. "I think your worthiness is my call to make, since it is me you would be calling on? And I would be happy to have you as my guest." she replied, her tone smooth and soothing. Emilia did not see why he should bring himself down so. Was he not a decorated general in his own right? That was as much as she had gathered from their short conversation. How could a solider not be welcomed, when it was them who protected the sanctity of her home?
Taking a step back however, she would respect his wishes, but that did not mean she would heed his wishes to not call on her. Making a mental note to pen out a short missive she would have a errand boy deliver to Stelios of Antonis to ensure he had not made her angry in anyway, and in fact the princess would love to continue their acquaintenceship, the girl stepped back to the fold her maid's made.
"I am happy you enjoyed my company, as I did yours, Lord Stelios. I'm afraid that 'family duty' we speak of calls me again, for my father requires my audience. But I do wish to see you again, my lord." With a final curtsy given to him, Emilia disappeared in a flurry of skirts by her maids to attend to the ailing King Minas, but not without a secret smile on her face. Come night time after her father had went to bed, Emilia would scurry to her sister's rooms, and repeat that time-old tradition of falling on Persephone's beds while regaling her sister with the story of the conversation in the gardens she had with Stelios, a handsome men who would no doubt haunt her dreams for the night.
But for now, she merely smiled.
Perhaps she had been a little forward, but the young princess of Athenia had never been one to shy away from someone she had fancied - and let it be known, that she has fancied many men over the short sixteen years of her life. If one were to ask Persephone, one would know exactly how many girls Emilia had fantasized herself in love with, a phenomenon that had simply gotten worst as she had grown older and started attending court sessions, broadening her pool of men to choose from.
Shaking her head as Stelios staggered back on his feet and bowed low, the brunette held a hand up to stay her maids behind her, and instead approached Stelios to lay a hand on his upper arm, a kind smile on her features. "I think your worthiness is my call to make, since it is me you would be calling on? And I would be happy to have you as my guest." she replied, her tone smooth and soothing. Emilia did not see why he should bring himself down so. Was he not a decorated general in his own right? That was as much as she had gathered from their short conversation. How could a solider not be welcomed, when it was them who protected the sanctity of her home?
Taking a step back however, she would respect his wishes, but that did not mean she would heed his wishes to not call on her. Making a mental note to pen out a short missive she would have a errand boy deliver to Stelios of Antonis to ensure he had not made her angry in anyway, and in fact the princess would love to continue their acquaintenceship, the girl stepped back to the fold her maid's made.
"I am happy you enjoyed my company, as I did yours, Lord Stelios. I'm afraid that 'family duty' we speak of calls me again, for my father requires my audience. But I do wish to see you again, my lord." With a final curtsy given to him, Emilia disappeared in a flurry of skirts by her maids to attend to the ailing King Minas, but not without a secret smile on her face. Come night time after her father had went to bed, Emilia would scurry to her sister's rooms, and repeat that time-old tradition of falling on Persephone's beds while regaling her sister with the story of the conversation in the gardens she had with Stelios, a handsome men who would no doubt haunt her dreams for the night.
