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Hesiodos saw, from behind, as both of his rivals fought for the control of the flag. They were fierce, noble competitors (he had half a mind to invite them for a drink after the race), but the bard was determined to win this fight, and to tell stories and songs about his dramatic and amazing victory. It was the reason why he did what he did: so people would know and talk about him for ages to come.
Since it seemed that everyone was doing tricks on the saddle. Selene was especially talented at it; something he would commend to her after the race. Hesiodos decided to continue this trend to make a show to the crowd. After all, he was an entertainer with a flair for the dramatic, so it was on his blood. He kicked his mare into full speed, and with an acrobat’s flexibility, he sat backwards on the saddle as his horse raced.
It didn’t take long for them to reach Zacharias and to surpass him just enough to be in front of his horse. The bard smiled at him, winked, and just reached for the flag before stretching, putting it on the head of his mare, and spinning again on the saddle to regain control. His strategy now was to avoid both riders and finish the race…
The cheers from the crowd were life air for him. He was born to be in the spotlight.
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Hesiodos saw, from behind, as both of his rivals fought for the control of the flag. They were fierce, noble competitors (he had half a mind to invite them for a drink after the race), but the bard was determined to win this fight, and to tell stories and songs about his dramatic and amazing victory. It was the reason why he did what he did: so people would know and talk about him for ages to come.
Since it seemed that everyone was doing tricks on the saddle. Selene was especially talented at it; something he would commend to her after the race. Hesiodos decided to continue this trend to make a show to the crowd. After all, he was an entertainer with a flair for the dramatic, so it was on his blood. He kicked his mare into full speed, and with an acrobat’s flexibility, he sat backwards on the saddle as his horse raced.
It didn’t take long for them to reach Zacharias and to surpass him just enough to be in front of his horse. The bard smiled at him, winked, and just reached for the flag before stretching, putting it on the head of his mare, and spinning again on the saddle to regain control. His strategy now was to avoid both riders and finish the race…
The cheers from the crowd were life air for him. He was born to be in the spotlight.
Hesiodos saw, from behind, as both of his rivals fought for the control of the flag. They were fierce, noble competitors (he had half a mind to invite them for a drink after the race), but the bard was determined to win this fight, and to tell stories and songs about his dramatic and amazing victory. It was the reason why he did what he did: so people would know and talk about him for ages to come.
Since it seemed that everyone was doing tricks on the saddle. Selene was especially talented at it; something he would commend to her after the race. Hesiodos decided to continue this trend to make a show to the crowd. After all, he was an entertainer with a flair for the dramatic, so it was on his blood. He kicked his mare into full speed, and with an acrobat’s flexibility, he sat backwards on the saddle as his horse raced.
It didn’t take long for them to reach Zacharias and to surpass him just enough to be in front of his horse. The bard smiled at him, winked, and just reached for the flag before stretching, putting it on the head of his mare, and spinning again on the saddle to regain control. His strategy now was to avoid both riders and finish the race…
The cheers from the crowd were life air for him. He was born to be in the spotlight.
Fotios nodded at the meek obedience of his middle daughter accepting the logic of etiquette that he was offering. Whether she was old enough to understand the true significance of it or if she was simply acquiescing so that the conversation would conclude, he didn't know. But now was not to time to press a lesson in appropriate behaviour when there were others of the Court in hearing distance.
Whilst Fotios was severe in his expectations of high standards in his daughters, he was not one to embarrass them or any of the family name in the company of those outside of the House. Such a thing was not to be done. By any of them.
When the two girls spoke of Selene's potential for winning the race, Fotios could not agree with their sentiments. He had permitted Selene's presence in the race because he had wanted her to show her prowess on the back of a horse - something that most men would be able to appreciate as a sign of good breeding and upbringing. But he did not wish for her to actually win the event and shame the males that had entered it. That would not endear her to potential husbands at all.
It was why he had placed her next to the mare in heat, in the hopes that her stallion would suffer from the distraction and cause dramatics that she would need to be rescued from by the prince.
Apparently, Prince Zacharias was not as easily swayed by a damsel in distress as Fotios had hoped...
And now it looked like some damn nobody was about to race victorious. Which wouldn't do at all. How was the Leventi annual race supposed to look like the finest of horse races if a commoner of all things won it?
His expression twisting with the little anger that he couldn't hide, Fotios watched with an intensity, mentally encouraging Zacharias to prove his worth aboard the back of a horse and secure that flag once more before the riders reached the finish line...
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Fotios nodded at the meek obedience of his middle daughter accepting the logic of etiquette that he was offering. Whether she was old enough to understand the true significance of it or if she was simply acquiescing so that the conversation would conclude, he didn't know. But now was not to time to press a lesson in appropriate behaviour when there were others of the Court in hearing distance.
Whilst Fotios was severe in his expectations of high standards in his daughters, he was not one to embarrass them or any of the family name in the company of those outside of the House. Such a thing was not to be done. By any of them.
When the two girls spoke of Selene's potential for winning the race, Fotios could not agree with their sentiments. He had permitted Selene's presence in the race because he had wanted her to show her prowess on the back of a horse - something that most men would be able to appreciate as a sign of good breeding and upbringing. But he did not wish for her to actually win the event and shame the males that had entered it. That would not endear her to potential husbands at all.
It was why he had placed her next to the mare in heat, in the hopes that her stallion would suffer from the distraction and cause dramatics that she would need to be rescued from by the prince.
Apparently, Prince Zacharias was not as easily swayed by a damsel in distress as Fotios had hoped...
And now it looked like some damn nobody was about to race victorious. Which wouldn't do at all. How was the Leventi annual race supposed to look like the finest of horse races if a commoner of all things won it?
His expression twisting with the little anger that he couldn't hide, Fotios watched with an intensity, mentally encouraging Zacharias to prove his worth aboard the back of a horse and secure that flag once more before the riders reached the finish line...
Fotios nodded at the meek obedience of his middle daughter accepting the logic of etiquette that he was offering. Whether she was old enough to understand the true significance of it or if she was simply acquiescing so that the conversation would conclude, he didn't know. But now was not to time to press a lesson in appropriate behaviour when there were others of the Court in hearing distance.
Whilst Fotios was severe in his expectations of high standards in his daughters, he was not one to embarrass them or any of the family name in the company of those outside of the House. Such a thing was not to be done. By any of them.
When the two girls spoke of Selene's potential for winning the race, Fotios could not agree with their sentiments. He had permitted Selene's presence in the race because he had wanted her to show her prowess on the back of a horse - something that most men would be able to appreciate as a sign of good breeding and upbringing. But he did not wish for her to actually win the event and shame the males that had entered it. That would not endear her to potential husbands at all.
It was why he had placed her next to the mare in heat, in the hopes that her stallion would suffer from the distraction and cause dramatics that she would need to be rescued from by the prince.
Apparently, Prince Zacharias was not as easily swayed by a damsel in distress as Fotios had hoped...
And now it looked like some damn nobody was about to race victorious. Which wouldn't do at all. How was the Leventi annual race supposed to look like the finest of horse races if a commoner of all things won it?
His expression twisting with the little anger that he couldn't hide, Fotios watched with an intensity, mentally encouraging Zacharias to prove his worth aboard the back of a horse and secure that flag once more before the riders reached the finish line...
He barely paid a bit of attention to the girls who stood close to them, preferring to watch his brother trouncing the competition. Or...well not trouncing but definitely holding his own. Cupping his hands on either side of his mouth, he shouted at Zacharias to get the flag and didn’t acknowledge Fotios Leventi as the man came up. Neither did the lord give him any sort of deference and since Stephanos wasn’t of an age where it mattered so much yet, he didn’t give it more thought than that.
With a few words, the girls were taken away and Stephanos finally dropped his hands and clapped. He shouldered against Achilleas, leaning in a bit to say, “See? Just say hello to them and they go away.” Via their father, who had every right to take them elsewhere. Stephanos wasn’t thinking like a parent and didn’t overly understand Fotios’s motives for making sure the girls were standing in an appropriate place. He only knew that his father had practically drilled into his skull that he wasn’t to talk, speak, or look at girls of that age with anything other than polite interest. Stephanos hadn’t thought these lessons were necessary, and still didn’t. He didn’t want to talk to them when there were other more interesting women to speak to.
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! GET THE FLAG, YOU IDIOT!” Stephanos shouted, suddenly seeing that Hesiodos had stolen the flag from his brother. “It’s like he wants to lose or something,” he said in frustration to Achilleas. “Hey, cheer louder. He’ll listen to you.” Because it was totally his cousins’ fault, clearly, that Zacharias had lost the flag. Again.
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He barely paid a bit of attention to the girls who stood close to them, preferring to watch his brother trouncing the competition. Or...well not trouncing but definitely holding his own. Cupping his hands on either side of his mouth, he shouted at Zacharias to get the flag and didn’t acknowledge Fotios Leventi as the man came up. Neither did the lord give him any sort of deference and since Stephanos wasn’t of an age where it mattered so much yet, he didn’t give it more thought than that.
With a few words, the girls were taken away and Stephanos finally dropped his hands and clapped. He shouldered against Achilleas, leaning in a bit to say, “See? Just say hello to them and they go away.” Via their father, who had every right to take them elsewhere. Stephanos wasn’t thinking like a parent and didn’t overly understand Fotios’s motives for making sure the girls were standing in an appropriate place. He only knew that his father had practically drilled into his skull that he wasn’t to talk, speak, or look at girls of that age with anything other than polite interest. Stephanos hadn’t thought these lessons were necessary, and still didn’t. He didn’t want to talk to them when there were other more interesting women to speak to.
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! GET THE FLAG, YOU IDIOT!” Stephanos shouted, suddenly seeing that Hesiodos had stolen the flag from his brother. “It’s like he wants to lose or something,” he said in frustration to Achilleas. “Hey, cheer louder. He’ll listen to you.” Because it was totally his cousins’ fault, clearly, that Zacharias had lost the flag. Again.
He barely paid a bit of attention to the girls who stood close to them, preferring to watch his brother trouncing the competition. Or...well not trouncing but definitely holding his own. Cupping his hands on either side of his mouth, he shouted at Zacharias to get the flag and didn’t acknowledge Fotios Leventi as the man came up. Neither did the lord give him any sort of deference and since Stephanos wasn’t of an age where it mattered so much yet, he didn’t give it more thought than that.
With a few words, the girls were taken away and Stephanos finally dropped his hands and clapped. He shouldered against Achilleas, leaning in a bit to say, “See? Just say hello to them and they go away.” Via their father, who had every right to take them elsewhere. Stephanos wasn’t thinking like a parent and didn’t overly understand Fotios’s motives for making sure the girls were standing in an appropriate place. He only knew that his father had practically drilled into his skull that he wasn’t to talk, speak, or look at girls of that age with anything other than polite interest. Stephanos hadn’t thought these lessons were necessary, and still didn’t. He didn’t want to talk to them when there were other more interesting women to speak to.
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! GET THE FLAG, YOU IDIOT!” Stephanos shouted, suddenly seeing that Hesiodos had stolen the flag from his brother. “It’s like he wants to lose or something,” he said in frustration to Achilleas. “Hey, cheer louder. He’ll listen to you.” Because it was totally his cousins’ fault, clearly, that Zacharias had lost the flag. Again.
Zacharias didn’t have any clue what Lord Fotios’s motives were for pairing him with Selene. He’d taken the action at face value, but if he’d understood what was happening, his actions would have been the same. Extreme distance. The last thing he wanted was to be cornered into some sort of social obligation, which was definitely a danger with so many people. Thankfully, Selene was well able to handle herself and it left Zacharias with the ability to focus on his own issues. Namely: this bard who kept relentlessly flirting with him and having the audacity to assume he was allowed to win this thing.
As Hesiodos charged up beside him, Zacharias found himself hemmed in on both sides by another rider and wasn’t able to keep away from the bard’s reaching arm. The Prince’s eyes blazed as the bard had the nerve to wink as he stole the flag. Zacharias’s teeth clenched and he jerked the reins of his horse hard, the animal’s head craning to the side, its body heedlessly following where the Prince demanded. They rode up right beside Hesiodos’s horse and Zacharias seriously considered making the bard’s horse lame. But that would be cheating. A thing he could not, and normally would not do. Zacharias wasn’t a perfect person and did have temptations like anyone from time to time. However, he mastered the impulse by driving his heels into his horse’s flanks, spurring the beast forward.
Zacharias lunged to the side, glaring at Hesiodos, snatching the flag back and planting it firmly on his own horse. “You will not win, bard!” he shouted above the din. Pulling his horse away, he raced toward the finish line, just as determined as Fotios Leventi that he would win, though not for the same reasons.
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Zacharias didn’t have any clue what Lord Fotios’s motives were for pairing him with Selene. He’d taken the action at face value, but if he’d understood what was happening, his actions would have been the same. Extreme distance. The last thing he wanted was to be cornered into some sort of social obligation, which was definitely a danger with so many people. Thankfully, Selene was well able to handle herself and it left Zacharias with the ability to focus on his own issues. Namely: this bard who kept relentlessly flirting with him and having the audacity to assume he was allowed to win this thing.
As Hesiodos charged up beside him, Zacharias found himself hemmed in on both sides by another rider and wasn’t able to keep away from the bard’s reaching arm. The Prince’s eyes blazed as the bard had the nerve to wink as he stole the flag. Zacharias’s teeth clenched and he jerked the reins of his horse hard, the animal’s head craning to the side, its body heedlessly following where the Prince demanded. They rode up right beside Hesiodos’s horse and Zacharias seriously considered making the bard’s horse lame. But that would be cheating. A thing he could not, and normally would not do. Zacharias wasn’t a perfect person and did have temptations like anyone from time to time. However, he mastered the impulse by driving his heels into his horse’s flanks, spurring the beast forward.
Zacharias lunged to the side, glaring at Hesiodos, snatching the flag back and planting it firmly on his own horse. “You will not win, bard!” he shouted above the din. Pulling his horse away, he raced toward the finish line, just as determined as Fotios Leventi that he would win, though not for the same reasons.
Zacharias didn’t have any clue what Lord Fotios’s motives were for pairing him with Selene. He’d taken the action at face value, but if he’d understood what was happening, his actions would have been the same. Extreme distance. The last thing he wanted was to be cornered into some sort of social obligation, which was definitely a danger with so many people. Thankfully, Selene was well able to handle herself and it left Zacharias with the ability to focus on his own issues. Namely: this bard who kept relentlessly flirting with him and having the audacity to assume he was allowed to win this thing.
As Hesiodos charged up beside him, Zacharias found himself hemmed in on both sides by another rider and wasn’t able to keep away from the bard’s reaching arm. The Prince’s eyes blazed as the bard had the nerve to wink as he stole the flag. Zacharias’s teeth clenched and he jerked the reins of his horse hard, the animal’s head craning to the side, its body heedlessly following where the Prince demanded. They rode up right beside Hesiodos’s horse and Zacharias seriously considered making the bard’s horse lame. But that would be cheating. A thing he could not, and normally would not do. Zacharias wasn’t a perfect person and did have temptations like anyone from time to time. However, he mastered the impulse by driving his heels into his horse’s flanks, spurring the beast forward.
Zacharias lunged to the side, glaring at Hesiodos, snatching the flag back and planting it firmly on his own horse. “You will not win, bard!” he shouted above the din. Pulling his horse away, he raced toward the finish line, just as determined as Fotios Leventi that he would win, though not for the same reasons.
Stephanos might have been too absorbed in the race to pay much heed to the girls who had approached them, but Achilleas did not find it quite so easy to be dismissive, despite his initial reaction. In fact, he felt rather wretched seeing the one who’d spoken- whose name he was quite sure wasn’t Moblialenia, but anyway - seeing her face fall almost had him think better of being so abrupt with them.
But before he had chance to try thought, there was the harsh bark of a name - Melina, as it turned out- and no other than Lord Fotios had appeared to herd the girls away. Achilleas noted that the man offered not even a nod towards he or his cousin, and hoped that the Lord did not think they had been encouraging of the girl’s boldness. Frowning at the thought he was about to voice it to Stephanos when his cousin knocked him with his shoulder, grinning, and Achilleas supposed it had achieved the objective of getting rid of the girls and at least he hadn't made these ones cry.
With the luck he was having, he’d take it as a win.
Looking back to the race happening on the beach, Achilleas blinked and frowned as the Crown Prince was passed, not reacting nearly as dramatically as Stephanos whose yelling was rather unseemly if he were being honest about it. And the dark-haired man looked dismayed at the request that he join in with such hollering. “I really don’t think it’s going to help” he objected. “If the man’s beat the man’s..”
But he’d spoken too soon, for it would seem that Zacharias did not like to lose, and he had spurred his horse on to catch up with the leader again and snatched the flag back. “Fuck” Achilleas muttered quietly. “ I should have put some money on your brother after all..” It was yet another sign that the fates were not smiling on him, and Achilleas waved over a girl bearing wine and snagged two, pushing one at Stephanos and hoping that the man wouldn’t throw it everywhere in his agitation. With Zacharias thundering down towards the finish, the race looked a done deal.
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Stephanos might have been too absorbed in the race to pay much heed to the girls who had approached them, but Achilleas did not find it quite so easy to be dismissive, despite his initial reaction. In fact, he felt rather wretched seeing the one who’d spoken- whose name he was quite sure wasn’t Moblialenia, but anyway - seeing her face fall almost had him think better of being so abrupt with them.
But before he had chance to try thought, there was the harsh bark of a name - Melina, as it turned out- and no other than Lord Fotios had appeared to herd the girls away. Achilleas noted that the man offered not even a nod towards he or his cousin, and hoped that the Lord did not think they had been encouraging of the girl’s boldness. Frowning at the thought he was about to voice it to Stephanos when his cousin knocked him with his shoulder, grinning, and Achilleas supposed it had achieved the objective of getting rid of the girls and at least he hadn't made these ones cry.
With the luck he was having, he’d take it as a win.
Looking back to the race happening on the beach, Achilleas blinked and frowned as the Crown Prince was passed, not reacting nearly as dramatically as Stephanos whose yelling was rather unseemly if he were being honest about it. And the dark-haired man looked dismayed at the request that he join in with such hollering. “I really don’t think it’s going to help” he objected. “If the man’s beat the man’s..”
But he’d spoken too soon, for it would seem that Zacharias did not like to lose, and he had spurred his horse on to catch up with the leader again and snatched the flag back. “Fuck” Achilleas muttered quietly. “ I should have put some money on your brother after all..” It was yet another sign that the fates were not smiling on him, and Achilleas waved over a girl bearing wine and snagged two, pushing one at Stephanos and hoping that the man wouldn’t throw it everywhere in his agitation. With Zacharias thundering down towards the finish, the race looked a done deal.
Stephanos might have been too absorbed in the race to pay much heed to the girls who had approached them, but Achilleas did not find it quite so easy to be dismissive, despite his initial reaction. In fact, he felt rather wretched seeing the one who’d spoken- whose name he was quite sure wasn’t Moblialenia, but anyway - seeing her face fall almost had him think better of being so abrupt with them.
But before he had chance to try thought, there was the harsh bark of a name - Melina, as it turned out- and no other than Lord Fotios had appeared to herd the girls away. Achilleas noted that the man offered not even a nod towards he or his cousin, and hoped that the Lord did not think they had been encouraging of the girl’s boldness. Frowning at the thought he was about to voice it to Stephanos when his cousin knocked him with his shoulder, grinning, and Achilleas supposed it had achieved the objective of getting rid of the girls and at least he hadn't made these ones cry.
With the luck he was having, he’d take it as a win.
Looking back to the race happening on the beach, Achilleas blinked and frowned as the Crown Prince was passed, not reacting nearly as dramatically as Stephanos whose yelling was rather unseemly if he were being honest about it. And the dark-haired man looked dismayed at the request that he join in with such hollering. “I really don’t think it’s going to help” he objected. “If the man’s beat the man’s..”
But he’d spoken too soon, for it would seem that Zacharias did not like to lose, and he had spurred his horse on to catch up with the leader again and snatched the flag back. “Fuck” Achilleas muttered quietly. “ I should have put some money on your brother after all..” It was yet another sign that the fates were not smiling on him, and Achilleas waved over a girl bearing wine and snagged two, pushing one at Stephanos and hoping that the man wouldn’t throw it everywhere in his agitation. With Zacharias thundering down towards the finish, the race looked a done deal.
Dorothea was perfectly content to be back watching the race. This was what she had wanted in the first place. Not to approach some men who obviously were not worth her time. Of course, that was what most girls wanted to do, especially at their age, she found. It was utterly baffling to Dorothea, but she often tried to play along, even if that meant that she just stayed in the background. She had never been so grateful to see a rescuing figure as when Fotios approached. Not that she was sure about how she felt about him, but at least he had the sense to take them away from the prince and his friend.
The girl smiled at her new companion’s enthusiasm for her cousin. Dorothea had to say that she agreed and hoped that the lady Selene would win. To have a woman beat out all of the men in the competition would be something of a miracle. But it would also be proof of what Doro had known for a long time – women were just a strong, if not stronger, than men.
“I hope she will win as well,” Doro agreed. It was more than just her hope for a show of women superiority, but the fact that Lady Selene was doing incredibly well so far. “She certainly is putting on a wonderful display. I hope to be able to ride like her one day.” It was an admission that she hadn’t expected to slip out, but was true nonetheless. Dorothea had already been on horseback for many years, but she was still waiting to grow into her body. She would continue to improve with age and practice.
She risked a brief glance at Fotios, wondering what he was thinking of all of this. While it was inspiring to her to witness a woman excel in the race, she wondered what the men around her must be feeling. Surely they wouldn’t be as thrilled about Lady Selene doing so well. The girl resolved to ask her father what he thought about all of this when they headed home. He would tell her the truth when nobody else would. "Do you ride often, Melina?" Of course, she was a Leventi, so that was a foolish question, but Dorothea wished to know her companion better and could think of no other way to ask.
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Dorothea was perfectly content to be back watching the race. This was what she had wanted in the first place. Not to approach some men who obviously were not worth her time. Of course, that was what most girls wanted to do, especially at their age, she found. It was utterly baffling to Dorothea, but she often tried to play along, even if that meant that she just stayed in the background. She had never been so grateful to see a rescuing figure as when Fotios approached. Not that she was sure about how she felt about him, but at least he had the sense to take them away from the prince and his friend.
The girl smiled at her new companion’s enthusiasm for her cousin. Dorothea had to say that she agreed and hoped that the lady Selene would win. To have a woman beat out all of the men in the competition would be something of a miracle. But it would also be proof of what Doro had known for a long time – women were just a strong, if not stronger, than men.
“I hope she will win as well,” Doro agreed. It was more than just her hope for a show of women superiority, but the fact that Lady Selene was doing incredibly well so far. “She certainly is putting on a wonderful display. I hope to be able to ride like her one day.” It was an admission that she hadn’t expected to slip out, but was true nonetheless. Dorothea had already been on horseback for many years, but she was still waiting to grow into her body. She would continue to improve with age and practice.
She risked a brief glance at Fotios, wondering what he was thinking of all of this. While it was inspiring to her to witness a woman excel in the race, she wondered what the men around her must be feeling. Surely they wouldn’t be as thrilled about Lady Selene doing so well. The girl resolved to ask her father what he thought about all of this when they headed home. He would tell her the truth when nobody else would. "Do you ride often, Melina?" Of course, she was a Leventi, so that was a foolish question, but Dorothea wished to know her companion better and could think of no other way to ask.
Dorothea was perfectly content to be back watching the race. This was what she had wanted in the first place. Not to approach some men who obviously were not worth her time. Of course, that was what most girls wanted to do, especially at their age, she found. It was utterly baffling to Dorothea, but she often tried to play along, even if that meant that she just stayed in the background. She had never been so grateful to see a rescuing figure as when Fotios approached. Not that she was sure about how she felt about him, but at least he had the sense to take them away from the prince and his friend.
The girl smiled at her new companion’s enthusiasm for her cousin. Dorothea had to say that she agreed and hoped that the lady Selene would win. To have a woman beat out all of the men in the competition would be something of a miracle. But it would also be proof of what Doro had known for a long time – women were just a strong, if not stronger, than men.
“I hope she will win as well,” Doro agreed. It was more than just her hope for a show of women superiority, but the fact that Lady Selene was doing incredibly well so far. “She certainly is putting on a wonderful display. I hope to be able to ride like her one day.” It was an admission that she hadn’t expected to slip out, but was true nonetheless. Dorothea had already been on horseback for many years, but she was still waiting to grow into her body. She would continue to improve with age and practice.
She risked a brief glance at Fotios, wondering what he was thinking of all of this. While it was inspiring to her to witness a woman excel in the race, she wondered what the men around her must be feeling. Surely they wouldn’t be as thrilled about Lady Selene doing so well. The girl resolved to ask her father what he thought about all of this when they headed home. He would tell her the truth when nobody else would. "Do you ride often, Melina?" Of course, she was a Leventi, so that was a foolish question, but Dorothea wished to know her companion better and could think of no other way to ask.
It took a moment for Selene to recover, and there were few precious moments available in a race like this. She didn’t want to waste a moment, and wasn’t about to let these boys show her up in a race that demanded that she win. What would it be saying if she hung behind and let the one of them win over her? Everyone knew she was a superb racer. And those who knew her best would be disappointed in her for letting one of the boys win simply to make them look good.
In her opinion, a husband shouldn’t mind a wife who was bold every once and awhile, just like she wouldn’t mind a husband who could be humbled by her. If a man would be put off by her skill on a horse, then that man didn’t deserve her anyway. So there were no regrets as she pressed herself low to her horse, lifting the majority of her weight off of him. The men were far heavier than her, so there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to catch up. The fact that both seemed to think her out of the count made her all the more confident. Let them see their error in placing any sort of doubt on Selene of the House Leventi.
It did not take her long to catch up to them, able to witness the theft of the flag from the bard to the prince. Good-- she wouldn’t have to get close and personal with someone she didn’t know, and she wouldn’t have to throw off her horse by the mare in heat. Passing the mare, it was left to Selene and Zacharias. And she would not be defeated. With a kick, she was certain that she came out of nowhere to him, as the flag was loose in his grasp. It took no effort for her to rip the material from his hands, no fancy taunt or jest. No, instead her focus was on the finish line. Another kick into the flanks, pulling the last bit of speed from the horse, she blazed to the finish line.
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It took a moment for Selene to recover, and there were few precious moments available in a race like this. She didn’t want to waste a moment, and wasn’t about to let these boys show her up in a race that demanded that she win. What would it be saying if she hung behind and let the one of them win over her? Everyone knew she was a superb racer. And those who knew her best would be disappointed in her for letting one of the boys win simply to make them look good.
In her opinion, a husband shouldn’t mind a wife who was bold every once and awhile, just like she wouldn’t mind a husband who could be humbled by her. If a man would be put off by her skill on a horse, then that man didn’t deserve her anyway. So there were no regrets as she pressed herself low to her horse, lifting the majority of her weight off of him. The men were far heavier than her, so there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to catch up. The fact that both seemed to think her out of the count made her all the more confident. Let them see their error in placing any sort of doubt on Selene of the House Leventi.
It did not take her long to catch up to them, able to witness the theft of the flag from the bard to the prince. Good-- she wouldn’t have to get close and personal with someone she didn’t know, and she wouldn’t have to throw off her horse by the mare in heat. Passing the mare, it was left to Selene and Zacharias. And she would not be defeated. With a kick, she was certain that she came out of nowhere to him, as the flag was loose in his grasp. It took no effort for her to rip the material from his hands, no fancy taunt or jest. No, instead her focus was on the finish line. Another kick into the flanks, pulling the last bit of speed from the horse, she blazed to the finish line.
It took a moment for Selene to recover, and there were few precious moments available in a race like this. She didn’t want to waste a moment, and wasn’t about to let these boys show her up in a race that demanded that she win. What would it be saying if she hung behind and let the one of them win over her? Everyone knew she was a superb racer. And those who knew her best would be disappointed in her for letting one of the boys win simply to make them look good.
In her opinion, a husband shouldn’t mind a wife who was bold every once and awhile, just like she wouldn’t mind a husband who could be humbled by her. If a man would be put off by her skill on a horse, then that man didn’t deserve her anyway. So there were no regrets as she pressed herself low to her horse, lifting the majority of her weight off of him. The men were far heavier than her, so there was no doubt in her mind that she would be able to catch up. The fact that both seemed to think her out of the count made her all the more confident. Let them see their error in placing any sort of doubt on Selene of the House Leventi.
It did not take her long to catch up to them, able to witness the theft of the flag from the bard to the prince. Good-- she wouldn’t have to get close and personal with someone she didn’t know, and she wouldn’t have to throw off her horse by the mare in heat. Passing the mare, it was left to Selene and Zacharias. And she would not be defeated. With a kick, she was certain that she came out of nowhere to him, as the flag was loose in his grasp. It took no effort for her to rip the material from his hands, no fancy taunt or jest. No, instead her focus was on the finish line. Another kick into the flanks, pulling the last bit of speed from the horse, she blazed to the finish line.
Curveball A Borrowed Freedom
And the eldest Leventi girl takes the prize! Whilst the Leventi are proud of their horse-flesh heritage and the expertise with which all of their members can handle the animals, a young woman beating the prince of the realm and many other fine male riders wasn't exactly the hope of the event for this family, to be sure! Everyone duck and cover - the status quo has just been given a little shake...
JD
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And the eldest Leventi girl takes the prize! Whilst the Leventi are proud of their horse-flesh heritage and the expertise with which all of their members can handle the animals, a young woman beating the prince of the realm and many other fine male riders wasn't exactly the hope of the event for this family, to be sure! Everyone duck and cover - the status quo has just been given a little shake...
Curveball A Borrowed Freedom
And the eldest Leventi girl takes the prize! Whilst the Leventi are proud of their horse-flesh heritage and the expertise with which all of their members can handle the animals, a young woman beating the prince of the realm and many other fine male riders wasn't exactly the hope of the event for this family, to be sure! Everyone duck and cover - the status quo has just been given a little shake...
It was over in a flash. No sooner had he stuffed the flag on his horse’s mask, than it was snatched away. Zacharias blinked, lips parted, blue eyes wide, as Selene of Leventi pulled away. She didn’t make it to the finish line first; he did, but she did make it to the finish line with the flag, which was what mattered. Over the crowd, Zacharias could hear his little brother shouting and hooting at him, which he chose to ignore. His stomach curled and he still tried to comprehend that he’d lost in front of all these people. Rather than burn with shame, however, his training and upbringing kicked in. His mother’s advice, rather than his father’s, rang in his ears: “It doesn’t matter how you feel. It matters what people see.” If anyone knew the value of those words, it was Zacharias of Mikaelidas - a man so practiced in deceiving even those closest to him, that he knew how to put on a winning smile and fake good sportsmanship. Even though he chafed at the loss. Zacharias didn’t lose. Ever. Except today.
“Lady Selene,” he said as his gelding trotted over to her. Reaching out a hand, he made sure to grasp hers and raise her arm high, the flag grasped between both of their fists. This now looked better. It would not do to have the Mikaelidas family look like sore losers - or to have the Leventi look like they had too much control over the situation. Now that he’d lent his smile, his support, and his literal hand to Lady Selene, he and his name were the focus. The good will went to his house. Not hers. She might get the glory, his house got the sympathy, and that was more important. ...though, if he was honest, the glory would have felt better.
“You did well,” he said in a lower voice that only she could hear, beneath the rumblings of the crowd. Zacharias wasn’t an ill tempered man, but he was suited to politics and took his role as future king incredibly seriously. Even now, while he did not have the crown, and ideally wouldn’t have it for years, he knew that he must look perfect until then. This loss, while not even close to toppling his reputation, was unpleasant.
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It was over in a flash. No sooner had he stuffed the flag on his horse’s mask, than it was snatched away. Zacharias blinked, lips parted, blue eyes wide, as Selene of Leventi pulled away. She didn’t make it to the finish line first; he did, but she did make it to the finish line with the flag, which was what mattered. Over the crowd, Zacharias could hear his little brother shouting and hooting at him, which he chose to ignore. His stomach curled and he still tried to comprehend that he’d lost in front of all these people. Rather than burn with shame, however, his training and upbringing kicked in. His mother’s advice, rather than his father’s, rang in his ears: “It doesn’t matter how you feel. It matters what people see.” If anyone knew the value of those words, it was Zacharias of Mikaelidas - a man so practiced in deceiving even those closest to him, that he knew how to put on a winning smile and fake good sportsmanship. Even though he chafed at the loss. Zacharias didn’t lose. Ever. Except today.
“Lady Selene,” he said as his gelding trotted over to her. Reaching out a hand, he made sure to grasp hers and raise her arm high, the flag grasped between both of their fists. This now looked better. It would not do to have the Mikaelidas family look like sore losers - or to have the Leventi look like they had too much control over the situation. Now that he’d lent his smile, his support, and his literal hand to Lady Selene, he and his name were the focus. The good will went to his house. Not hers. She might get the glory, his house got the sympathy, and that was more important. ...though, if he was honest, the glory would have felt better.
“You did well,” he said in a lower voice that only she could hear, beneath the rumblings of the crowd. Zacharias wasn’t an ill tempered man, but he was suited to politics and took his role as future king incredibly seriously. Even now, while he did not have the crown, and ideally wouldn’t have it for years, he knew that he must look perfect until then. This loss, while not even close to toppling his reputation, was unpleasant.
It was over in a flash. No sooner had he stuffed the flag on his horse’s mask, than it was snatched away. Zacharias blinked, lips parted, blue eyes wide, as Selene of Leventi pulled away. She didn’t make it to the finish line first; he did, but she did make it to the finish line with the flag, which was what mattered. Over the crowd, Zacharias could hear his little brother shouting and hooting at him, which he chose to ignore. His stomach curled and he still tried to comprehend that he’d lost in front of all these people. Rather than burn with shame, however, his training and upbringing kicked in. His mother’s advice, rather than his father’s, rang in his ears: “It doesn’t matter how you feel. It matters what people see.” If anyone knew the value of those words, it was Zacharias of Mikaelidas - a man so practiced in deceiving even those closest to him, that he knew how to put on a winning smile and fake good sportsmanship. Even though he chafed at the loss. Zacharias didn’t lose. Ever. Except today.
“Lady Selene,” he said as his gelding trotted over to her. Reaching out a hand, he made sure to grasp hers and raise her arm high, the flag grasped between both of their fists. This now looked better. It would not do to have the Mikaelidas family look like sore losers - or to have the Leventi look like they had too much control over the situation. Now that he’d lent his smile, his support, and his literal hand to Lady Selene, he and his name were the focus. The good will went to his house. Not hers. She might get the glory, his house got the sympathy, and that was more important. ...though, if he was honest, the glory would have felt better.
“You did well,” he said in a lower voice that only she could hear, beneath the rumblings of the crowd. Zacharias wasn’t an ill tempered man, but he was suited to politics and took his role as future king incredibly seriously. Even now, while he did not have the crown, and ideally wouldn’t have it for years, he knew that he must look perfect until then. This loss, while not even close to toppling his reputation, was unpleasant.
For Hesiodos, it was all so fast: the Prince Zacharias stole back the flag from him, and before the rhapsodist could think of a flashy enough way to take it back, Lady Selene took it and finished the race. Hesiodos saw the scene with wide opened eyes, processing what just happened, and the fact that he lost…
And then a big grin crossed his face.
It was just so freaking perfect! A woman rode against a prince and a surging celebrity, both men and won, thus breaking the status quo. Hesiodos could only imagine how amazing this story would be once he started telling it, and he couldn’t help but cheer at the winner as he rode towards them.
He didn’t care that he lost – sure, he had that metalized, but no matter who won, it was going to be absolutely legendary for future generations.
Humming a cheerful tune, he rode at Zacharias' - it would have been better to ride at Selene's side, but considered the mare in heat, it was a bad idea- side and took his hand, raising it high just as he did with Selene’s, and with the voice he used to address crowds, he said: “Three hurrahs for us! For the Prince Zacharias, for the Rhapsodist Hesiodos, and most importantly, for the winner, the only and one, Lady Selene! May Nike give her many more victories in the future!”, his tone was enthusiastic and contagious; so much that people started to cheer as he said his three hurrahs.
He looked at the two of them with a grin white and snow, “My prince, my lady, it would be my honor to invite you two a cup of wine. You two were worthy adversaries, and I couldn’t have been happier to match with you.”
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For Hesiodos, it was all so fast: the Prince Zacharias stole back the flag from him, and before the rhapsodist could think of a flashy enough way to take it back, Lady Selene took it and finished the race. Hesiodos saw the scene with wide opened eyes, processing what just happened, and the fact that he lost…
And then a big grin crossed his face.
It was just so freaking perfect! A woman rode against a prince and a surging celebrity, both men and won, thus breaking the status quo. Hesiodos could only imagine how amazing this story would be once he started telling it, and he couldn’t help but cheer at the winner as he rode towards them.
He didn’t care that he lost – sure, he had that metalized, but no matter who won, it was going to be absolutely legendary for future generations.
Humming a cheerful tune, he rode at Zacharias' - it would have been better to ride at Selene's side, but considered the mare in heat, it was a bad idea- side and took his hand, raising it high just as he did with Selene’s, and with the voice he used to address crowds, he said: “Three hurrahs for us! For the Prince Zacharias, for the Rhapsodist Hesiodos, and most importantly, for the winner, the only and one, Lady Selene! May Nike give her many more victories in the future!”, his tone was enthusiastic and contagious; so much that people started to cheer as he said his three hurrahs.
He looked at the two of them with a grin white and snow, “My prince, my lady, it would be my honor to invite you two a cup of wine. You two were worthy adversaries, and I couldn’t have been happier to match with you.”
For Hesiodos, it was all so fast: the Prince Zacharias stole back the flag from him, and before the rhapsodist could think of a flashy enough way to take it back, Lady Selene took it and finished the race. Hesiodos saw the scene with wide opened eyes, processing what just happened, and the fact that he lost…
And then a big grin crossed his face.
It was just so freaking perfect! A woman rode against a prince and a surging celebrity, both men and won, thus breaking the status quo. Hesiodos could only imagine how amazing this story would be once he started telling it, and he couldn’t help but cheer at the winner as he rode towards them.
He didn’t care that he lost – sure, he had that metalized, but no matter who won, it was going to be absolutely legendary for future generations.
Humming a cheerful tune, he rode at Zacharias' - it would have been better to ride at Selene's side, but considered the mare in heat, it was a bad idea- side and took his hand, raising it high just as he did with Selene’s, and with the voice he used to address crowds, he said: “Three hurrahs for us! For the Prince Zacharias, for the Rhapsodist Hesiodos, and most importantly, for the winner, the only and one, Lady Selene! May Nike give her many more victories in the future!”, his tone was enthusiastic and contagious; so much that people started to cheer as he said his three hurrahs.
He looked at the two of them with a grin white and snow, “My prince, my lady, it would be my honor to invite you two a cup of wine. You two were worthy adversaries, and I couldn’t have been happier to match with you.”
Annoyed wasn't the right word to describe Fotios' feelings in that moment as his niece crossed the finishing line first, flag in hand and victory attained. Exasperated was more the correct term. How was the young girl supposed to attract a husband if she shamed him in a race of horsemanship? Whilst it was valuable and wise to have Selene compete and show her abilities on the back of a horse - abilities that far surpassed any other woman and which she could display whilst also remaining graceful and elegant stride the creature - those abilities should have drawn short of triumphing over a man's. Fotios felt his teeth grind at the sheer arrogance of Georgios' eldest. It was one thing to be permitted into a race that was almost entirely populated by men but to then take that permission and besmirch it by beating said men was an ill-advised move. And Fotios had expected more from Selene.
The fact that there was a strand of pride woven into his concerns, did little to slow Fotios' steps as he murmured his apologises and excuses to Lady Dorothea and his daughter and walked down the dunes towards the beach where he would be able to confront such an issue head on. Though Fotios might hold some tender spot of pride that a Leventi had won the race - even a female one - and knew that such a victory would look good upon the steed that Selene rode, Fotios knew that his House's reputation could have taken the hit of coming second. The fact that he had barely one male heir to the family line and that his nieces and daughters had to marry advantageously - that was a higher concern. One that Selene had just made harder for herself.
With a sigh and a desire to see damage control done on behalf of Georgios who was not in the immediate vicinity, Fotios took on the role of head of his house and descended down the sands in order to make his way towards his niece. Thankful for his leather boots over sandals, Fotios was careful not to spray or disturb too much stand and spook the horses as he moved to hold the headpiece of Selene's mount. Rather than congratulating her upon her win, however, his gaze turned towards the bard who openly invited such people to drink with him!
Fotios' eyes flung wide at the brazen offer that was surely made through the adrenaline of the meet. For a common born bard would never expect a lady of rank and the prince of the realm to drink with him, surely?
"You think much of yourself, citizen." He stated, with a tone that shut down the conversation quickly, disregarding such an offer in Selene's favour and moving discussion to the Prince, whom he hastened to remove any shame or awkwardness from.
"You ran a good race, Your Highness." Fotios said with enough volume to carry. "Yet perhaps your father will now consider larger orders of Leventi stock..." He patted the neck of Selene's mount. "Now that you see the difference they can make." His words were simple enough, placing the victory of the bout upon the horse rather than its rider and saving the male blushes of the other competitors.
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Annoyed wasn't the right word to describe Fotios' feelings in that moment as his niece crossed the finishing line first, flag in hand and victory attained. Exasperated was more the correct term. How was the young girl supposed to attract a husband if she shamed him in a race of horsemanship? Whilst it was valuable and wise to have Selene compete and show her abilities on the back of a horse - abilities that far surpassed any other woman and which she could display whilst also remaining graceful and elegant stride the creature - those abilities should have drawn short of triumphing over a man's. Fotios felt his teeth grind at the sheer arrogance of Georgios' eldest. It was one thing to be permitted into a race that was almost entirely populated by men but to then take that permission and besmirch it by beating said men was an ill-advised move. And Fotios had expected more from Selene.
The fact that there was a strand of pride woven into his concerns, did little to slow Fotios' steps as he murmured his apologises and excuses to Lady Dorothea and his daughter and walked down the dunes towards the beach where he would be able to confront such an issue head on. Though Fotios might hold some tender spot of pride that a Leventi had won the race - even a female one - and knew that such a victory would look good upon the steed that Selene rode, Fotios knew that his House's reputation could have taken the hit of coming second. The fact that he had barely one male heir to the family line and that his nieces and daughters had to marry advantageously - that was a higher concern. One that Selene had just made harder for herself.
With a sigh and a desire to see damage control done on behalf of Georgios who was not in the immediate vicinity, Fotios took on the role of head of his house and descended down the sands in order to make his way towards his niece. Thankful for his leather boots over sandals, Fotios was careful not to spray or disturb too much stand and spook the horses as he moved to hold the headpiece of Selene's mount. Rather than congratulating her upon her win, however, his gaze turned towards the bard who openly invited such people to drink with him!
Fotios' eyes flung wide at the brazen offer that was surely made through the adrenaline of the meet. For a common born bard would never expect a lady of rank and the prince of the realm to drink with him, surely?
"You think much of yourself, citizen." He stated, with a tone that shut down the conversation quickly, disregarding such an offer in Selene's favour and moving discussion to the Prince, whom he hastened to remove any shame or awkwardness from.
"You ran a good race, Your Highness." Fotios said with enough volume to carry. "Yet perhaps your father will now consider larger orders of Leventi stock..." He patted the neck of Selene's mount. "Now that you see the difference they can make." His words were simple enough, placing the victory of the bout upon the horse rather than its rider and saving the male blushes of the other competitors.
Annoyed wasn't the right word to describe Fotios' feelings in that moment as his niece crossed the finishing line first, flag in hand and victory attained. Exasperated was more the correct term. How was the young girl supposed to attract a husband if she shamed him in a race of horsemanship? Whilst it was valuable and wise to have Selene compete and show her abilities on the back of a horse - abilities that far surpassed any other woman and which she could display whilst also remaining graceful and elegant stride the creature - those abilities should have drawn short of triumphing over a man's. Fotios felt his teeth grind at the sheer arrogance of Georgios' eldest. It was one thing to be permitted into a race that was almost entirely populated by men but to then take that permission and besmirch it by beating said men was an ill-advised move. And Fotios had expected more from Selene.
The fact that there was a strand of pride woven into his concerns, did little to slow Fotios' steps as he murmured his apologises and excuses to Lady Dorothea and his daughter and walked down the dunes towards the beach where he would be able to confront such an issue head on. Though Fotios might hold some tender spot of pride that a Leventi had won the race - even a female one - and knew that such a victory would look good upon the steed that Selene rode, Fotios knew that his House's reputation could have taken the hit of coming second. The fact that he had barely one male heir to the family line and that his nieces and daughters had to marry advantageously - that was a higher concern. One that Selene had just made harder for herself.
With a sigh and a desire to see damage control done on behalf of Georgios who was not in the immediate vicinity, Fotios took on the role of head of his house and descended down the sands in order to make his way towards his niece. Thankful for his leather boots over sandals, Fotios was careful not to spray or disturb too much stand and spook the horses as he moved to hold the headpiece of Selene's mount. Rather than congratulating her upon her win, however, his gaze turned towards the bard who openly invited such people to drink with him!
Fotios' eyes flung wide at the brazen offer that was surely made through the adrenaline of the meet. For a common born bard would never expect a lady of rank and the prince of the realm to drink with him, surely?
"You think much of yourself, citizen." He stated, with a tone that shut down the conversation quickly, disregarding such an offer in Selene's favour and moving discussion to the Prince, whom he hastened to remove any shame or awkwardness from.
"You ran a good race, Your Highness." Fotios said with enough volume to carry. "Yet perhaps your father will now consider larger orders of Leventi stock..." He patted the neck of Selene's mount. "Now that you see the difference they can make." His words were simple enough, placing the victory of the bout upon the horse rather than its rider and saving the male blushes of the other competitors.
Melina might indeed have been devastated from her brief encounter with the royals, but she knew that she had to put on a brave face. Especially for her newly-found friend. As she watched the race come to its conclusion, she noticed how Selene was coming close to making a lead. In fact, Melina voiced this to her friend. She didn’t understand the significance of the races, nor how shameful it would be for a Leventi heiress to beat a crowned prince. All she knew was that she wanted a familiar face, her cousin, to win.
“I think we are about to get our wish, Dorothea.” Indeed, Selene was one of the best riders of the Leventi family, and it helped that she had an excellent horse to boot. It would be a dream come true if Melina could ride as well as that.
So, as she heard her friend’s admission, she reached out a hand and patted her new friend’s knee. “You will be a fantastic rider. Have all the adventures in the glades and forests and tell me about it. I haven’t decided what I am going to be yet, but I read enough, so maybe I could be a writer or scribe.” Wrinkling her nose, Melina wasn’t sure where the future would take her, but she knew that she would probably be indoors more than outside.
As the race concluded, Melina stood up, cheering merrily for her cousin, a smile gracing her lips that was truly heartfelt. She was glad that her cousin defeated the royals. It showed that in one instance at least, that royal, while they could do anything, they couldn’t win this race!
Sobering up as she remembered that Dorothea had asked a question, and of the brief encounter between the younger Mikaelidas men, Melina nodded. “Yes, I do ride. My father has been giving us some lessons, he insists that all of us need to learn to ride. I don’t favor the stallions though, but I do have a nice filly that I’ve been keeping an eye on. She’s pretty, the color of sand! She was just born a few years ago.”
While she kept merry conversation with her friend, she heard the cheers and bellowing voice of the mysterious bard. Pointing at him, she murmured. “He was at our dance instructions a year ago. It’s strange to think a bard can ride, but they must need a noble steed for adventures too. He told us an amazing story about Theseus.”
As she slid off the dune, she extended a hand towards her Dorothea. “Do you want to meet my cousin? She’s really nice!” Babbling merrily about her cousin and her historic win, Melina adjusted her himation and extended a hand to the teen, insisting on having her join. “Maybe she can give us tips on how to ride that well.”
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Melina might indeed have been devastated from her brief encounter with the royals, but she knew that she had to put on a brave face. Especially for her newly-found friend. As she watched the race come to its conclusion, she noticed how Selene was coming close to making a lead. In fact, Melina voiced this to her friend. She didn’t understand the significance of the races, nor how shameful it would be for a Leventi heiress to beat a crowned prince. All she knew was that she wanted a familiar face, her cousin, to win.
“I think we are about to get our wish, Dorothea.” Indeed, Selene was one of the best riders of the Leventi family, and it helped that she had an excellent horse to boot. It would be a dream come true if Melina could ride as well as that.
So, as she heard her friend’s admission, she reached out a hand and patted her new friend’s knee. “You will be a fantastic rider. Have all the adventures in the glades and forests and tell me about it. I haven’t decided what I am going to be yet, but I read enough, so maybe I could be a writer or scribe.” Wrinkling her nose, Melina wasn’t sure where the future would take her, but she knew that she would probably be indoors more than outside.
As the race concluded, Melina stood up, cheering merrily for her cousin, a smile gracing her lips that was truly heartfelt. She was glad that her cousin defeated the royals. It showed that in one instance at least, that royal, while they could do anything, they couldn’t win this race!
Sobering up as she remembered that Dorothea had asked a question, and of the brief encounter between the younger Mikaelidas men, Melina nodded. “Yes, I do ride. My father has been giving us some lessons, he insists that all of us need to learn to ride. I don’t favor the stallions though, but I do have a nice filly that I’ve been keeping an eye on. She’s pretty, the color of sand! She was just born a few years ago.”
While she kept merry conversation with her friend, she heard the cheers and bellowing voice of the mysterious bard. Pointing at him, she murmured. “He was at our dance instructions a year ago. It’s strange to think a bard can ride, but they must need a noble steed for adventures too. He told us an amazing story about Theseus.”
As she slid off the dune, she extended a hand towards her Dorothea. “Do you want to meet my cousin? She’s really nice!” Babbling merrily about her cousin and her historic win, Melina adjusted her himation and extended a hand to the teen, insisting on having her join. “Maybe she can give us tips on how to ride that well.”
Melina might indeed have been devastated from her brief encounter with the royals, but she knew that she had to put on a brave face. Especially for her newly-found friend. As she watched the race come to its conclusion, she noticed how Selene was coming close to making a lead. In fact, Melina voiced this to her friend. She didn’t understand the significance of the races, nor how shameful it would be for a Leventi heiress to beat a crowned prince. All she knew was that she wanted a familiar face, her cousin, to win.
“I think we are about to get our wish, Dorothea.” Indeed, Selene was one of the best riders of the Leventi family, and it helped that she had an excellent horse to boot. It would be a dream come true if Melina could ride as well as that.
So, as she heard her friend’s admission, she reached out a hand and patted her new friend’s knee. “You will be a fantastic rider. Have all the adventures in the glades and forests and tell me about it. I haven’t decided what I am going to be yet, but I read enough, so maybe I could be a writer or scribe.” Wrinkling her nose, Melina wasn’t sure where the future would take her, but she knew that she would probably be indoors more than outside.
As the race concluded, Melina stood up, cheering merrily for her cousin, a smile gracing her lips that was truly heartfelt. She was glad that her cousin defeated the royals. It showed that in one instance at least, that royal, while they could do anything, they couldn’t win this race!
Sobering up as she remembered that Dorothea had asked a question, and of the brief encounter between the younger Mikaelidas men, Melina nodded. “Yes, I do ride. My father has been giving us some lessons, he insists that all of us need to learn to ride. I don’t favor the stallions though, but I do have a nice filly that I’ve been keeping an eye on. She’s pretty, the color of sand! She was just born a few years ago.”
While she kept merry conversation with her friend, she heard the cheers and bellowing voice of the mysterious bard. Pointing at him, she murmured. “He was at our dance instructions a year ago. It’s strange to think a bard can ride, but they must need a noble steed for adventures too. He told us an amazing story about Theseus.”
As she slid off the dune, she extended a hand towards her Dorothea. “Do you want to meet my cousin? She’s really nice!” Babbling merrily about her cousin and her historic win, Melina adjusted her himation and extended a hand to the teen, insisting on having her join. “Maybe she can give us tips on how to ride that well.”
This was exactly what Dorothea had imagined when she begged her father to come today. Well, perhaps not a woman winning – no that surpassed her expectations. But the excitement and thrill of the race. The final part captivated her attentions so that she hardly even noticed the interaction between father and daughter next to her. Yet, she did pay careful attention when Melina reached out and gave her knee a pat. This was another unexpected part of the day—a new friend. And an encouraging one at that. The two girls barely knew each other, but were already encouraging each other the way that Dorothea had heard women were supposed to do.
“And though I have yet to read any of your work, I think you would make an excellent writer. I hope you will share some of your words with me some day,” Dorothea said, returning the compliment. She didn’t often give compliments without reason, but she was happy with the two of them becoming friends. Friendship seemed like enough of a reason to give such encouragement. She hoped that she would one day get to read some of Melina’s writing. It would be her honor, she thought.
Then, she was thinking of nothing but the race at hand. The Lady Selene had won a marvelous victory! Dorothea joined Melina on her feet and was cheering just as loud as her friend. She wasn’t related to Lady Selene, but she could appreciate a woman showing such strength. That would teach all the men to be more careful!
“Does she have a name, your filly?” Dorothea asked, pleased to be on a topic that she could relate to. Although young, she certainly knew her way around horses. It was her family’s livelihood, after all. They had dozens and dozens of animals on their lands. Not unlike the Leventis, she knew. However, she was fairly certain her father was quite unusual in allowing her to be involved as much as she was. Both as a young person and a female.
Dorothea took a closer look at the other contest, listening to Melina explain who he was. Or at least, how he was familiar to her. It was quite remarkable that he could ride so well for a bard. She hadn’t attended the lessons that her friend was speaking of. They had received an invitation, she thought, but Dorothea had dismissed it handily. Dancing was not for her. Riding was.
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, accepting Melina’s offer to meet Selene. She wasn’t sure what she could say, but at the very least she could congratulate her. And tell her that she aspired to be her one day. That might be nice. “Let’s go!”
She took Melina’s arm as the two of them made their way down to the riders.
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This was exactly what Dorothea had imagined when she begged her father to come today. Well, perhaps not a woman winning – no that surpassed her expectations. But the excitement and thrill of the race. The final part captivated her attentions so that she hardly even noticed the interaction between father and daughter next to her. Yet, she did pay careful attention when Melina reached out and gave her knee a pat. This was another unexpected part of the day—a new friend. And an encouraging one at that. The two girls barely knew each other, but were already encouraging each other the way that Dorothea had heard women were supposed to do.
“And though I have yet to read any of your work, I think you would make an excellent writer. I hope you will share some of your words with me some day,” Dorothea said, returning the compliment. She didn’t often give compliments without reason, but she was happy with the two of them becoming friends. Friendship seemed like enough of a reason to give such encouragement. She hoped that she would one day get to read some of Melina’s writing. It would be her honor, she thought.
Then, she was thinking of nothing but the race at hand. The Lady Selene had won a marvelous victory! Dorothea joined Melina on her feet and was cheering just as loud as her friend. She wasn’t related to Lady Selene, but she could appreciate a woman showing such strength. That would teach all the men to be more careful!
“Does she have a name, your filly?” Dorothea asked, pleased to be on a topic that she could relate to. Although young, she certainly knew her way around horses. It was her family’s livelihood, after all. They had dozens and dozens of animals on their lands. Not unlike the Leventis, she knew. However, she was fairly certain her father was quite unusual in allowing her to be involved as much as she was. Both as a young person and a female.
Dorothea took a closer look at the other contest, listening to Melina explain who he was. Or at least, how he was familiar to her. It was quite remarkable that he could ride so well for a bard. She hadn’t attended the lessons that her friend was speaking of. They had received an invitation, she thought, but Dorothea had dismissed it handily. Dancing was not for her. Riding was.
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, accepting Melina’s offer to meet Selene. She wasn’t sure what she could say, but at the very least she could congratulate her. And tell her that she aspired to be her one day. That might be nice. “Let’s go!”
She took Melina’s arm as the two of them made their way down to the riders.
This was exactly what Dorothea had imagined when she begged her father to come today. Well, perhaps not a woman winning – no that surpassed her expectations. But the excitement and thrill of the race. The final part captivated her attentions so that she hardly even noticed the interaction between father and daughter next to her. Yet, she did pay careful attention when Melina reached out and gave her knee a pat. This was another unexpected part of the day—a new friend. And an encouraging one at that. The two girls barely knew each other, but were already encouraging each other the way that Dorothea had heard women were supposed to do.
“And though I have yet to read any of your work, I think you would make an excellent writer. I hope you will share some of your words with me some day,” Dorothea said, returning the compliment. She didn’t often give compliments without reason, but she was happy with the two of them becoming friends. Friendship seemed like enough of a reason to give such encouragement. She hoped that she would one day get to read some of Melina’s writing. It would be her honor, she thought.
Then, she was thinking of nothing but the race at hand. The Lady Selene had won a marvelous victory! Dorothea joined Melina on her feet and was cheering just as loud as her friend. She wasn’t related to Lady Selene, but she could appreciate a woman showing such strength. That would teach all the men to be more careful!
“Does she have a name, your filly?” Dorothea asked, pleased to be on a topic that she could relate to. Although young, she certainly knew her way around horses. It was her family’s livelihood, after all. They had dozens and dozens of animals on their lands. Not unlike the Leventis, she knew. However, she was fairly certain her father was quite unusual in allowing her to be involved as much as she was. Both as a young person and a female.
Dorothea took a closer look at the other contest, listening to Melina explain who he was. Or at least, how he was familiar to her. It was quite remarkable that he could ride so well for a bard. She hadn’t attended the lessons that her friend was speaking of. They had received an invitation, she thought, but Dorothea had dismissed it handily. Dancing was not for her. Riding was.
“Oh yes!” she exclaimed, accepting Melina’s offer to meet Selene. She wasn’t sure what she could say, but at the very least she could congratulate her. And tell her that she aspired to be her one day. That might be nice. “Let’s go!”
She took Melina’s arm as the two of them made their way down to the riders.
She almost lost her grip on it as she tugged it from him, the slickness of sweat against her fingers causing it to slip for a moment. But Selene turned her hand into a fist and dashed through the finish line. Letting her horse fall a little behind had been a tactic, as Zacharias would have had to whip his horse around to reclaim the cloth. Instead, forward momentum propelled him across the line, with her close behind.
She could hear the sound of her heart racing in her ears, which was only slightly louder than the sound of her trying to catch her breath. Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to gauge the reactions of those around her. A woman in the man’s event was unheard of, so the idea of her winning had never crossed any of their mind. And yet, here she was, flag in hand, which declared that she was one of the finest riders in the land.
There was almost a childlike giggle on the edge of her lips, begging to boil over as she quickly realized what she’d done. It felt almost shameful, the way she had joined at the last minute and won. And yet, she could hear her mother’s voice now that her heart had slowed, ”Dignity and decorum”. It would not do well for her to be lost in a childish fit with her potential fiance so close at hand. Her eyes fell onto him, her back straightening with pride. Her head bowed to him, as he was the prince and deserved the respect. Side by side, his hand wrapped in both hers and the flag, he put their hands in the air. Chin angling upward, Selene drank in the moment. She had images of the crowds at the coronation, cheering for the joining of the Mikaelidas and Leventi houses. Of their child, racing around on his first pony. Of the future they could have together.
There was a warmth in her chest at the possibility of it all, of making her family proud.
His comment had her eyes turning to him, bright from the joy in this moment. ”Thank you. So did you, your highness.” There was no denying the look on his face, the way he tried to keep himself together. She heard the offer of drink, but didn’t need to reply as her uncle grasped the lead of her horse. Cheeks flushing, she could tell that her uncle was not happy with what she had done. But she made no apology for her victory. He had the chance to stop her from winning in the first place but had allowed (and even encouraged) her to the starting line with the rest. He knew how good of a rider she was, but he must have expected her to let the prince win.
And while she wanted nothing more than to earn a proposal from the prince, it would not be at the cost of her skills. There were plenty of other ways to flatter the man without having to throw the race. In her mind, Zacharias should have been impressed, as she could have just thrown the race for his ego. Instead, she made him prove himself as well. Perhaps she could challenge him to more private races, ones in which they could build a stronger relationship. For now, she bowed to them both, moving into the crowd to try and find one of her sisters. There was a need to celebrate, and she wanted to start with them.
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She almost lost her grip on it as she tugged it from him, the slickness of sweat against her fingers causing it to slip for a moment. But Selene turned her hand into a fist and dashed through the finish line. Letting her horse fall a little behind had been a tactic, as Zacharias would have had to whip his horse around to reclaim the cloth. Instead, forward momentum propelled him across the line, with her close behind.
She could hear the sound of her heart racing in her ears, which was only slightly louder than the sound of her trying to catch her breath. Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to gauge the reactions of those around her. A woman in the man’s event was unheard of, so the idea of her winning had never crossed any of their mind. And yet, here she was, flag in hand, which declared that she was one of the finest riders in the land.
There was almost a childlike giggle on the edge of her lips, begging to boil over as she quickly realized what she’d done. It felt almost shameful, the way she had joined at the last minute and won. And yet, she could hear her mother’s voice now that her heart had slowed, ”Dignity and decorum”. It would not do well for her to be lost in a childish fit with her potential fiance so close at hand. Her eyes fell onto him, her back straightening with pride. Her head bowed to him, as he was the prince and deserved the respect. Side by side, his hand wrapped in both hers and the flag, he put their hands in the air. Chin angling upward, Selene drank in the moment. She had images of the crowds at the coronation, cheering for the joining of the Mikaelidas and Leventi houses. Of their child, racing around on his first pony. Of the future they could have together.
There was a warmth in her chest at the possibility of it all, of making her family proud.
His comment had her eyes turning to him, bright from the joy in this moment. ”Thank you. So did you, your highness.” There was no denying the look on his face, the way he tried to keep himself together. She heard the offer of drink, but didn’t need to reply as her uncle grasped the lead of her horse. Cheeks flushing, she could tell that her uncle was not happy with what she had done. But she made no apology for her victory. He had the chance to stop her from winning in the first place but had allowed (and even encouraged) her to the starting line with the rest. He knew how good of a rider she was, but he must have expected her to let the prince win.
And while she wanted nothing more than to earn a proposal from the prince, it would not be at the cost of her skills. There were plenty of other ways to flatter the man without having to throw the race. In her mind, Zacharias should have been impressed, as she could have just thrown the race for his ego. Instead, she made him prove himself as well. Perhaps she could challenge him to more private races, ones in which they could build a stronger relationship. For now, she bowed to them both, moving into the crowd to try and find one of her sisters. There was a need to celebrate, and she wanted to start with them.
She almost lost her grip on it as she tugged it from him, the slickness of sweat against her fingers causing it to slip for a moment. But Selene turned her hand into a fist and dashed through the finish line. Letting her horse fall a little behind had been a tactic, as Zacharias would have had to whip his horse around to reclaim the cloth. Instead, forward momentum propelled him across the line, with her close behind.
She could hear the sound of her heart racing in her ears, which was only slightly louder than the sound of her trying to catch her breath. Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to gauge the reactions of those around her. A woman in the man’s event was unheard of, so the idea of her winning had never crossed any of their mind. And yet, here she was, flag in hand, which declared that she was one of the finest riders in the land.
There was almost a childlike giggle on the edge of her lips, begging to boil over as she quickly realized what she’d done. It felt almost shameful, the way she had joined at the last minute and won. And yet, she could hear her mother’s voice now that her heart had slowed, ”Dignity and decorum”. It would not do well for her to be lost in a childish fit with her potential fiance so close at hand. Her eyes fell onto him, her back straightening with pride. Her head bowed to him, as he was the prince and deserved the respect. Side by side, his hand wrapped in both hers and the flag, he put their hands in the air. Chin angling upward, Selene drank in the moment. She had images of the crowds at the coronation, cheering for the joining of the Mikaelidas and Leventi houses. Of their child, racing around on his first pony. Of the future they could have together.
There was a warmth in her chest at the possibility of it all, of making her family proud.
His comment had her eyes turning to him, bright from the joy in this moment. ”Thank you. So did you, your highness.” There was no denying the look on his face, the way he tried to keep himself together. She heard the offer of drink, but didn’t need to reply as her uncle grasped the lead of her horse. Cheeks flushing, she could tell that her uncle was not happy with what she had done. But she made no apology for her victory. He had the chance to stop her from winning in the first place but had allowed (and even encouraged) her to the starting line with the rest. He knew how good of a rider she was, but he must have expected her to let the prince win.
And while she wanted nothing more than to earn a proposal from the prince, it would not be at the cost of her skills. There were plenty of other ways to flatter the man without having to throw the race. In her mind, Zacharias should have been impressed, as she could have just thrown the race for his ego. Instead, she made him prove himself as well. Perhaps she could challenge him to more private races, ones in which they could build a stronger relationship. For now, she bowed to them both, moving into the crowd to try and find one of her sisters. There was a need to celebrate, and she wanted to start with them.
After being left in the dust by the Mikaelidas boys, Nana was, by all means, tempted to follow. Yet, after she spotted her cousin, Melina, stopping them to chat, and being quickly brushed off and intercepted by her Uncle Fotios in the process, Nana knew she would have to be stealthy if she didn't want to find herself ending up in a world of trouble. Mama and Papa could be frightening at times, yes, but Uncle Fotios was frightening all the time. Looking into his eyes could make a grown man's blood curdle. Of that, Nana was certain.
So, she found herself yet again donning the disguise that Prince Stephanos had so rudely ripped off her head in trying to figure out just who she happened to be. Truly, the nerve of some people! Nana could have slapped him then and there, though that most certainly would put her in hot water with Fotios. Stephanos certainly did not seem the type to keep her secrets. But, she had gone to all the trouble of sneaking out of the house for a reason, and that was to see the race. Perhaps, with enough effort, she could convince one of the Mikaelidas boys to give her a boost.
Quickly the young Leventi threaded through the throngs of people who made up the audience: commoners and nobles alike, all wishing the same thing as her - to see the race. At a few points, she even found herself having to push past people to see, but with her height, she was given little resistance from those she may have shoved. Making a note to look out for her relatives, as to avoid them as she navigated the crowds, Nana pulled the hideous borrowed himation she donned tighter over her head, golden eyes searching for the royals she'd scolded earlier.
And, no sooner than doing so, her eyes landed on the pair, and the little blonde made a beeline for where they stood. Approaching as Prince Stephanos seemed to start shouting, Nana decided it would be best to approach Lord Achilleas instead, waiting for him to finish talking, and for the cheering and booing of the crowd (which she was not aware signalled the end of the race) to cease, before tugging on the Mikaelidas lord's hand to try and grab his attention.
With all the formality and grace befitting an eleven-year-old, she chided, "That was quite rude of you to just leave me there, I hope you know. My sister is racing today, mind you, and I made all this effort to come here to see it... Now, if you don't very well mind, I would very much appreciate a lift."
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After being left in the dust by the Mikaelidas boys, Nana was, by all means, tempted to follow. Yet, after she spotted her cousin, Melina, stopping them to chat, and being quickly brushed off and intercepted by her Uncle Fotios in the process, Nana knew she would have to be stealthy if she didn't want to find herself ending up in a world of trouble. Mama and Papa could be frightening at times, yes, but Uncle Fotios was frightening all the time. Looking into his eyes could make a grown man's blood curdle. Of that, Nana was certain.
So, she found herself yet again donning the disguise that Prince Stephanos had so rudely ripped off her head in trying to figure out just who she happened to be. Truly, the nerve of some people! Nana could have slapped him then and there, though that most certainly would put her in hot water with Fotios. Stephanos certainly did not seem the type to keep her secrets. But, she had gone to all the trouble of sneaking out of the house for a reason, and that was to see the race. Perhaps, with enough effort, she could convince one of the Mikaelidas boys to give her a boost.
Quickly the young Leventi threaded through the throngs of people who made up the audience: commoners and nobles alike, all wishing the same thing as her - to see the race. At a few points, she even found herself having to push past people to see, but with her height, she was given little resistance from those she may have shoved. Making a note to look out for her relatives, as to avoid them as she navigated the crowds, Nana pulled the hideous borrowed himation she donned tighter over her head, golden eyes searching for the royals she'd scolded earlier.
And, no sooner than doing so, her eyes landed on the pair, and the little blonde made a beeline for where they stood. Approaching as Prince Stephanos seemed to start shouting, Nana decided it would be best to approach Lord Achilleas instead, waiting for him to finish talking, and for the cheering and booing of the crowd (which she was not aware signalled the end of the race) to cease, before tugging on the Mikaelidas lord's hand to try and grab his attention.
With all the formality and grace befitting an eleven-year-old, she chided, "That was quite rude of you to just leave me there, I hope you know. My sister is racing today, mind you, and I made all this effort to come here to see it... Now, if you don't very well mind, I would very much appreciate a lift."
After being left in the dust by the Mikaelidas boys, Nana was, by all means, tempted to follow. Yet, after she spotted her cousin, Melina, stopping them to chat, and being quickly brushed off and intercepted by her Uncle Fotios in the process, Nana knew she would have to be stealthy if she didn't want to find herself ending up in a world of trouble. Mama and Papa could be frightening at times, yes, but Uncle Fotios was frightening all the time. Looking into his eyes could make a grown man's blood curdle. Of that, Nana was certain.
So, she found herself yet again donning the disguise that Prince Stephanos had so rudely ripped off her head in trying to figure out just who she happened to be. Truly, the nerve of some people! Nana could have slapped him then and there, though that most certainly would put her in hot water with Fotios. Stephanos certainly did not seem the type to keep her secrets. But, she had gone to all the trouble of sneaking out of the house for a reason, and that was to see the race. Perhaps, with enough effort, she could convince one of the Mikaelidas boys to give her a boost.
Quickly the young Leventi threaded through the throngs of people who made up the audience: commoners and nobles alike, all wishing the same thing as her - to see the race. At a few points, she even found herself having to push past people to see, but with her height, she was given little resistance from those she may have shoved. Making a note to look out for her relatives, as to avoid them as she navigated the crowds, Nana pulled the hideous borrowed himation she donned tighter over her head, golden eyes searching for the royals she'd scolded earlier.
And, no sooner than doing so, her eyes landed on the pair, and the little blonde made a beeline for where they stood. Approaching as Prince Stephanos seemed to start shouting, Nana decided it would be best to approach Lord Achilleas instead, waiting for him to finish talking, and for the cheering and booing of the crowd (which she was not aware signalled the end of the race) to cease, before tugging on the Mikaelidas lord's hand to try and grab his attention.
With all the formality and grace befitting an eleven-year-old, she chided, "That was quite rude of you to just leave me there, I hope you know. My sister is racing today, mind you, and I made all this effort to come here to see it... Now, if you don't very well mind, I would very much appreciate a lift."