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As much as he might have responded to Hesiodo’s kiss or flirtation, in the middle of the race wasn’t one of those times. Nor did he especially like it in front of all these people. And definitely not right at this very moment. He took it for what it was; taunting, and scowled. Pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw, he leaned further down on his horse, letting the horse’s mane sting his face. He didn’t want to give his mount any wind resistance that would make it harder to win.
His horse had a momentary lapse in footing, that allowed both Hesiodos and Selene’s horses the seconds they needed. Where she’d been behind him before, Lady Selene was on par with him now and he shouted at his horse, grinding his heels into the beast’s flanks, to overtake the bard. Firstly, he didn’t think a peasant with as much a flare for the dramatic as this man had, should win the race. Secondly, he would not be made a fool of. Not now, not ever.
The gelding lunged forward, taking the necessary turn that he needed, and then he was riding hard to catch up to Hesiodos. Precious seconds wasted and Zacharias was internally kicking himself. He did not fail. He would not, and his horse sensed his mood, because it appeared to have the same competitive streak. Coming up beside Hesiodos’s horse, Zacharias perched himself up on his horse’s back, reached out, and snatched the flag. Two could do tricks on horses. Still half standing, he jerked his mount away, nearly slamming into Selene, but not caring. He hoped it’d drive her back, and secured the flag on his own horse’s horn. Then he dropped back down onto the saddle and rode like Hades was chasing him.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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As much as he might have responded to Hesiodo’s kiss or flirtation, in the middle of the race wasn’t one of those times. Nor did he especially like it in front of all these people. And definitely not right at this very moment. He took it for what it was; taunting, and scowled. Pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw, he leaned further down on his horse, letting the horse’s mane sting his face. He didn’t want to give his mount any wind resistance that would make it harder to win.
His horse had a momentary lapse in footing, that allowed both Hesiodos and Selene’s horses the seconds they needed. Where she’d been behind him before, Lady Selene was on par with him now and he shouted at his horse, grinding his heels into the beast’s flanks, to overtake the bard. Firstly, he didn’t think a peasant with as much a flare for the dramatic as this man had, should win the race. Secondly, he would not be made a fool of. Not now, not ever.
The gelding lunged forward, taking the necessary turn that he needed, and then he was riding hard to catch up to Hesiodos. Precious seconds wasted and Zacharias was internally kicking himself. He did not fail. He would not, and his horse sensed his mood, because it appeared to have the same competitive streak. Coming up beside Hesiodos’s horse, Zacharias perched himself up on his horse’s back, reached out, and snatched the flag. Two could do tricks on horses. Still half standing, he jerked his mount away, nearly slamming into Selene, but not caring. He hoped it’d drive her back, and secured the flag on his own horse’s horn. Then he dropped back down onto the saddle and rode like Hades was chasing him.
As much as he might have responded to Hesiodo’s kiss or flirtation, in the middle of the race wasn’t one of those times. Nor did he especially like it in front of all these people. And definitely not right at this very moment. He took it for what it was; taunting, and scowled. Pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw, he leaned further down on his horse, letting the horse’s mane sting his face. He didn’t want to give his mount any wind resistance that would make it harder to win.
His horse had a momentary lapse in footing, that allowed both Hesiodos and Selene’s horses the seconds they needed. Where she’d been behind him before, Lady Selene was on par with him now and he shouted at his horse, grinding his heels into the beast’s flanks, to overtake the bard. Firstly, he didn’t think a peasant with as much a flare for the dramatic as this man had, should win the race. Secondly, he would not be made a fool of. Not now, not ever.
The gelding lunged forward, taking the necessary turn that he needed, and then he was riding hard to catch up to Hesiodos. Precious seconds wasted and Zacharias was internally kicking himself. He did not fail. He would not, and his horse sensed his mood, because it appeared to have the same competitive streak. Coming up beside Hesiodos’s horse, Zacharias perched himself up on his horse’s back, reached out, and snatched the flag. Two could do tricks on horses. Still half standing, he jerked his mount away, nearly slamming into Selene, but not caring. He hoped it’d drive her back, and secured the flag on his own horse’s horn. Then he dropped back down onto the saddle and rode like Hades was chasing him.
Almost as suddenly as they had appeared, the tears had disappeared from Evangelina’s eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, as if challenging the tree itself to stop her, if it dared. A smirk graced his lips. When they weren’t screaming, or crying, or hurting or shitting themselves, children could be one of the best forms of entertainment, just behind the theatrics of the court. Or a good, long session of “rocking the boat” after dark.
Too bad the snot-nosed brats were a byproduct.
The low blast of a horn jolted Nikos from his thoughts. Damn it! The races! In all the excitement of fleeing from the perpetrators, he’d forgotten the reason for the assembly in the first place. Shit! We’ve got to hurry, before they leave to go spectate instead! At the very least, he needed to discover the identity of their assailants; if he couldn’t enact revenge today, he would be able to avenge his honor at some other point if he just knew their faces.
Nikos, ready to leap into the tree, managed to stop himself upon seeing that his accomplice still stood at attention at the base of the tree trunk, and he realized why she had yet to move. Evangelina was a bit too short to reach the lowest branch; even if she jumped, she still might not be able to close the gap. Nikos quickly placed his remaining stash of acorns in his coin pouch before he returned to a kneel, one knee planted firmly in the dirt and his fingers interlocked to form a cup. “Step on, I’ll give you a boost.” With her foot in his hands, he quickly stood up and raised his arms just high enough so that she could wrap herself around the lowest branch. Waiting until she was balanced and ready to move upwards, he himself clambered up after her and began scaling the tree behind her. Hopefully we can make it in time.
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Almost as suddenly as they had appeared, the tears had disappeared from Evangelina’s eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, as if challenging the tree itself to stop her, if it dared. A smirk graced his lips. When they weren’t screaming, or crying, or hurting or shitting themselves, children could be one of the best forms of entertainment, just behind the theatrics of the court. Or a good, long session of “rocking the boat” after dark.
Too bad the snot-nosed brats were a byproduct.
The low blast of a horn jolted Nikos from his thoughts. Damn it! The races! In all the excitement of fleeing from the perpetrators, he’d forgotten the reason for the assembly in the first place. Shit! We’ve got to hurry, before they leave to go spectate instead! At the very least, he needed to discover the identity of their assailants; if he couldn’t enact revenge today, he would be able to avenge his honor at some other point if he just knew their faces.
Nikos, ready to leap into the tree, managed to stop himself upon seeing that his accomplice still stood at attention at the base of the tree trunk, and he realized why she had yet to move. Evangelina was a bit too short to reach the lowest branch; even if she jumped, she still might not be able to close the gap. Nikos quickly placed his remaining stash of acorns in his coin pouch before he returned to a kneel, one knee planted firmly in the dirt and his fingers interlocked to form a cup. “Step on, I’ll give you a boost.” With her foot in his hands, he quickly stood up and raised his arms just high enough so that she could wrap herself around the lowest branch. Waiting until she was balanced and ready to move upwards, he himself clambered up after her and began scaling the tree behind her. Hopefully we can make it in time.
Almost as suddenly as they had appeared, the tears had disappeared from Evangelina’s eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, as if challenging the tree itself to stop her, if it dared. A smirk graced his lips. When they weren’t screaming, or crying, or hurting or shitting themselves, children could be one of the best forms of entertainment, just behind the theatrics of the court. Or a good, long session of “rocking the boat” after dark.
Too bad the snot-nosed brats were a byproduct.
The low blast of a horn jolted Nikos from his thoughts. Damn it! The races! In all the excitement of fleeing from the perpetrators, he’d forgotten the reason for the assembly in the first place. Shit! We’ve got to hurry, before they leave to go spectate instead! At the very least, he needed to discover the identity of their assailants; if he couldn’t enact revenge today, he would be able to avenge his honor at some other point if he just knew their faces.
Nikos, ready to leap into the tree, managed to stop himself upon seeing that his accomplice still stood at attention at the base of the tree trunk, and he realized why she had yet to move. Evangelina was a bit too short to reach the lowest branch; even if she jumped, she still might not be able to close the gap. Nikos quickly placed his remaining stash of acorns in his coin pouch before he returned to a kneel, one knee planted firmly in the dirt and his fingers interlocked to form a cup. “Step on, I’ll give you a boost.” With her foot in his hands, he quickly stood up and raised his arms just high enough so that she could wrap herself around the lowest branch. Waiting until she was balanced and ready to move upwards, he himself clambered up after her and began scaling the tree behind her. Hopefully we can make it in time.
‘Step on, I’ll give you a boost.’
For what wonders of a man he was, Lord Nikos didn’t give very good boosts up. There was no count down to prepare her for the bounce up into that first limb, there wasn’t anything. One minute she was standing there on the ground and the next her foot was in his hand and he was all but tossing her small frame up onto that first limb. It was lucky she spent so much time riding that she’d all but developed invisible claws on the insides of her legs, arms, and hand. Attached to the tree, she clung to it unsure if she was going to tumble back to the ground or if she’d actually make it straddling that first limb.
There was no way she was going to land in the dirt with the one man in all of Taengea she’d hoped noticed her watching her at that very moment. She was going up that tree if she had to bite into that trunk to keep from sliding back downwards. Her short nails dug into the bark which was flaking off in pieces and landing on her face and in her hair and anywhere else they could. Her fingernails were in though and after a brief moment, she managed to get some form of control over herself and then she was shimmying up the tree like some sort of monkey after a banana.
From that first limb, she was able to reach the next one in which she climbed up to it and swung her leg over it too before she looked down and saw that Lord Nikos was right behind her. Her heart expanded a couple of sizes. They had something in common. That was the most wonderful magical thing that had happened to her in all of her eleven years.
Not realizing there were chunks of oak bark in her hair to match the streaks of dirt on her face she grinned down at him from the branch just above. The whole purpose of why they’d climbed up the tree to begin with lost in her young mind and replaced by the act of simply climbing the tree.
“Lord Nikos,” She called down, “Look at how well you can see the race from up here! Did you place any bets?” Her eyes found Selene and she gave a spirited whoop, “Go, Selene! Go!” The pint-sized hellion that Lord Nikos had followed out there was now bouncing precariously just above him as she cheered her cousin on. Her face had lit up and the trail of tears mixed with bark and dirt made her next words sound like an almost unreachable goal. Looking down at Lord Nikos, “I am going to be just like Selene… you just wait and see…”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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‘Step on, I’ll give you a boost.’
For what wonders of a man he was, Lord Nikos didn’t give very good boosts up. There was no count down to prepare her for the bounce up into that first limb, there wasn’t anything. One minute she was standing there on the ground and the next her foot was in his hand and he was all but tossing her small frame up onto that first limb. It was lucky she spent so much time riding that she’d all but developed invisible claws on the insides of her legs, arms, and hand. Attached to the tree, she clung to it unsure if she was going to tumble back to the ground or if she’d actually make it straddling that first limb.
There was no way she was going to land in the dirt with the one man in all of Taengea she’d hoped noticed her watching her at that very moment. She was going up that tree if she had to bite into that trunk to keep from sliding back downwards. Her short nails dug into the bark which was flaking off in pieces and landing on her face and in her hair and anywhere else they could. Her fingernails were in though and after a brief moment, she managed to get some form of control over herself and then she was shimmying up the tree like some sort of monkey after a banana.
From that first limb, she was able to reach the next one in which she climbed up to it and swung her leg over it too before she looked down and saw that Lord Nikos was right behind her. Her heart expanded a couple of sizes. They had something in common. That was the most wonderful magical thing that had happened to her in all of her eleven years.
Not realizing there were chunks of oak bark in her hair to match the streaks of dirt on her face she grinned down at him from the branch just above. The whole purpose of why they’d climbed up the tree to begin with lost in her young mind and replaced by the act of simply climbing the tree.
“Lord Nikos,” She called down, “Look at how well you can see the race from up here! Did you place any bets?” Her eyes found Selene and she gave a spirited whoop, “Go, Selene! Go!” The pint-sized hellion that Lord Nikos had followed out there was now bouncing precariously just above him as she cheered her cousin on. Her face had lit up and the trail of tears mixed with bark and dirt made her next words sound like an almost unreachable goal. Looking down at Lord Nikos, “I am going to be just like Selene… you just wait and see…”
‘Step on, I’ll give you a boost.’
For what wonders of a man he was, Lord Nikos didn’t give very good boosts up. There was no count down to prepare her for the bounce up into that first limb, there wasn’t anything. One minute she was standing there on the ground and the next her foot was in his hand and he was all but tossing her small frame up onto that first limb. It was lucky she spent so much time riding that she’d all but developed invisible claws on the insides of her legs, arms, and hand. Attached to the tree, she clung to it unsure if she was going to tumble back to the ground or if she’d actually make it straddling that first limb.
There was no way she was going to land in the dirt with the one man in all of Taengea she’d hoped noticed her watching her at that very moment. She was going up that tree if she had to bite into that trunk to keep from sliding back downwards. Her short nails dug into the bark which was flaking off in pieces and landing on her face and in her hair and anywhere else they could. Her fingernails were in though and after a brief moment, she managed to get some form of control over herself and then she was shimmying up the tree like some sort of monkey after a banana.
From that first limb, she was able to reach the next one in which she climbed up to it and swung her leg over it too before she looked down and saw that Lord Nikos was right behind her. Her heart expanded a couple of sizes. They had something in common. That was the most wonderful magical thing that had happened to her in all of her eleven years.
Not realizing there were chunks of oak bark in her hair to match the streaks of dirt on her face she grinned down at him from the branch just above. The whole purpose of why they’d climbed up the tree to begin with lost in her young mind and replaced by the act of simply climbing the tree.
“Lord Nikos,” She called down, “Look at how well you can see the race from up here! Did you place any bets?” Her eyes found Selene and she gave a spirited whoop, “Go, Selene! Go!” The pint-sized hellion that Lord Nikos had followed out there was now bouncing precariously just above him as she cheered her cousin on. Her face had lit up and the trail of tears mixed with bark and dirt made her next words sound like an almost unreachable goal. Looking down at Lord Nikos, “I am going to be just like Selene… you just wait and see…”
At thirteen, Melina was already to develop, becoming angular versus curvy with age, something that she tried to hide with padding before she ultimately decided that she looked foolish in the mirror. That said, despite being soft-spoken, she was very lady-like already. Unlike Evangelina, her dear cousin, she didn't get into as much trouble, and while she knew how to lie, such a thing was a necessity when you had Fotios as a father. Though, was it lying when she instead decided not to voice her thoughts?
Wishing that she could have been riding one of the horses, she itched to go to the stables and slip each of the horses a treat of good luck. However, such actions were frowned upon. What if they thought she was trying to cheat in order to let her father win his bet? Would they even think a teen could be capable of such a feat? In Taengea, it was incredibly possible.
So, instead, she returned to her time of observation, watching the peculiar interactions between Evangelina and Nikos. She had seen that sort of flush, how her cousin was cheering on Selene, and how Nikos was protective of her even when projectiles were being thrown by some of the lords of Mikaelidas. Would she say a word? She couldn't; instead, she find herself peering at the pair with a look of disapproval that was discreet enough to be overlooked and walking towards a haven of a tree. One that her dear cousin and Lord Nikos were scaling to watch the race.
Lifting a dainty hand, one that was almost swallowed up by her sleeve, she waved at the pair, a light smile escaping her lips. At least Evangelina wasn't crying anymore, that was always a good sign. She saw Evie as one of the few cousins that spent the most time with her and Agape, so she was kindred on a lot of secrets, just as Melina kept her silence herself. Though, as she looked at the pair, she felt almost as if she were intruding, a strange thought, but one that was prevalent within her mind even with her best intentions to force down the thought.
So, she turned her head, instead of gazing at the race itself, realizing that despite how well she rode horses, she would have never been ready for such a race. It was too fierce, too quick. Dust was flying in the air as horse hooves clambered against the dry track. Placing weight on the tips of her toes so she could possibly see what was going on, the teen ignored the gravel that was quickly becoming stuck between dirt-covered feet.
It was a race of the ages, at least in Melina's eyes, perhaps the child-like imagination that she was graced with was seeing anything but just a race. Lady Selene was facing two bold men, in a challenge to see herself towards a destination, horseflesh desperate to see through the rider's duty. Would she win? Or would one of the others win instead? It was an exciting tale when her mind spun it that way.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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At thirteen, Melina was already to develop, becoming angular versus curvy with age, something that she tried to hide with padding before she ultimately decided that she looked foolish in the mirror. That said, despite being soft-spoken, she was very lady-like already. Unlike Evangelina, her dear cousin, she didn't get into as much trouble, and while she knew how to lie, such a thing was a necessity when you had Fotios as a father. Though, was it lying when she instead decided not to voice her thoughts?
Wishing that she could have been riding one of the horses, she itched to go to the stables and slip each of the horses a treat of good luck. However, such actions were frowned upon. What if they thought she was trying to cheat in order to let her father win his bet? Would they even think a teen could be capable of such a feat? In Taengea, it was incredibly possible.
So, instead, she returned to her time of observation, watching the peculiar interactions between Evangelina and Nikos. She had seen that sort of flush, how her cousin was cheering on Selene, and how Nikos was protective of her even when projectiles were being thrown by some of the lords of Mikaelidas. Would she say a word? She couldn't; instead, she find herself peering at the pair with a look of disapproval that was discreet enough to be overlooked and walking towards a haven of a tree. One that her dear cousin and Lord Nikos were scaling to watch the race.
Lifting a dainty hand, one that was almost swallowed up by her sleeve, she waved at the pair, a light smile escaping her lips. At least Evangelina wasn't crying anymore, that was always a good sign. She saw Evie as one of the few cousins that spent the most time with her and Agape, so she was kindred on a lot of secrets, just as Melina kept her silence herself. Though, as she looked at the pair, she felt almost as if she were intruding, a strange thought, but one that was prevalent within her mind even with her best intentions to force down the thought.
So, she turned her head, instead of gazing at the race itself, realizing that despite how well she rode horses, she would have never been ready for such a race. It was too fierce, too quick. Dust was flying in the air as horse hooves clambered against the dry track. Placing weight on the tips of her toes so she could possibly see what was going on, the teen ignored the gravel that was quickly becoming stuck between dirt-covered feet.
It was a race of the ages, at least in Melina's eyes, perhaps the child-like imagination that she was graced with was seeing anything but just a race. Lady Selene was facing two bold men, in a challenge to see herself towards a destination, horseflesh desperate to see through the rider's duty. Would she win? Or would one of the others win instead? It was an exciting tale when her mind spun it that way.
At thirteen, Melina was already to develop, becoming angular versus curvy with age, something that she tried to hide with padding before she ultimately decided that she looked foolish in the mirror. That said, despite being soft-spoken, she was very lady-like already. Unlike Evangelina, her dear cousin, she didn't get into as much trouble, and while she knew how to lie, such a thing was a necessity when you had Fotios as a father. Though, was it lying when she instead decided not to voice her thoughts?
Wishing that she could have been riding one of the horses, she itched to go to the stables and slip each of the horses a treat of good luck. However, such actions were frowned upon. What if they thought she was trying to cheat in order to let her father win his bet? Would they even think a teen could be capable of such a feat? In Taengea, it was incredibly possible.
So, instead, she returned to her time of observation, watching the peculiar interactions between Evangelina and Nikos. She had seen that sort of flush, how her cousin was cheering on Selene, and how Nikos was protective of her even when projectiles were being thrown by some of the lords of Mikaelidas. Would she say a word? She couldn't; instead, she find herself peering at the pair with a look of disapproval that was discreet enough to be overlooked and walking towards a haven of a tree. One that her dear cousin and Lord Nikos were scaling to watch the race.
Lifting a dainty hand, one that was almost swallowed up by her sleeve, she waved at the pair, a light smile escaping her lips. At least Evangelina wasn't crying anymore, that was always a good sign. She saw Evie as one of the few cousins that spent the most time with her and Agape, so she was kindred on a lot of secrets, just as Melina kept her silence herself. Though, as she looked at the pair, she felt almost as if she were intruding, a strange thought, but one that was prevalent within her mind even with her best intentions to force down the thought.
So, she turned her head, instead of gazing at the race itself, realizing that despite how well she rode horses, she would have never been ready for such a race. It was too fierce, too quick. Dust was flying in the air as horse hooves clambered against the dry track. Placing weight on the tips of her toes so she could possibly see what was going on, the teen ignored the gravel that was quickly becoming stuck between dirt-covered feet.
It was a race of the ages, at least in Melina's eyes, perhaps the child-like imagination that she was graced with was seeing anything but just a race. Lady Selene was facing two bold men, in a challenge to see herself towards a destination, horseflesh desperate to see through the rider's duty. Would she win? Or would one of the others win instead? It was an exciting tale when her mind spun it that way.
A fourteen year old Dorothea could be very persistent. She had been begging her father for weeks and weeks and weeks. A horse race would be magnificent to witness. It would be even more magnificent to enter, but Dorothea knew when and when not to push her father. From his reaction to her first request, she thought it best not to make the second one. It would be enough to go and witness everything. They hardly went to anything anymore – not that she could remember going to much when her mother was alive, but they certainly didn’t go to anything now. Gavriil preferred to stay at home and for the most part, Dorothea didn’t mind it either. However, when she had heard some servants speaking of the upcoming race, there was no stopping her.
Persistence gave way to success and they were now here for the day. It was the most exciting thing they had done in forever and Doro was planning to take it all in. Nearly immediately after they had arrived and found a place to settle, did she go bounding off with a promise to return eventually.
It was exciting to be in a crowd with others – something Dorothea was far from used to. She didn’t exactly love how close she had to get to people, but there was also something exciting about the new experience. It was also nice to be a relatively small child, though she was sprouting up quickly, but it meant that most people didn’t pay her any attention. There were other children running around; she was just one of many. Doro didn’t feel an urge to speak with any of them, but enjoyed taking everything in on her own.
Perhaps most fascinating of all was the fact that there was a female racer among the men. People were whispering the Leventi name and so Dorothea assumed that must be one of the girls. She knew some but not well and couldn’t get a decent view point to see the riders yet. This was something Dorothea knew she mustn’t miss.
Finally, she found a secluded area with a view of the track. There was another girl there and Dorothea hoped she wouldn’t mind the company. She didn’t recognize the other girl, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. She had probably spent more time at court than Dorothea had as it was.
Smiling, she asked, “Do you mind if I join you? It’s hard to find a good spot elsewhere and I didn’t want to sit with my father and brother.” She moved closer, glancing between the girl and the track. “Exciting, isn’t it? I’ve never been to anything like this. I’m Dorothea of Dimitrou by the way.” Her introduction was belated as she realized she should have led with it. Ah, well, the action was too distracting.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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A fourteen year old Dorothea could be very persistent. She had been begging her father for weeks and weeks and weeks. A horse race would be magnificent to witness. It would be even more magnificent to enter, but Dorothea knew when and when not to push her father. From his reaction to her first request, she thought it best not to make the second one. It would be enough to go and witness everything. They hardly went to anything anymore – not that she could remember going to much when her mother was alive, but they certainly didn’t go to anything now. Gavriil preferred to stay at home and for the most part, Dorothea didn’t mind it either. However, when she had heard some servants speaking of the upcoming race, there was no stopping her.
Persistence gave way to success and they were now here for the day. It was the most exciting thing they had done in forever and Doro was planning to take it all in. Nearly immediately after they had arrived and found a place to settle, did she go bounding off with a promise to return eventually.
It was exciting to be in a crowd with others – something Dorothea was far from used to. She didn’t exactly love how close she had to get to people, but there was also something exciting about the new experience. It was also nice to be a relatively small child, though she was sprouting up quickly, but it meant that most people didn’t pay her any attention. There were other children running around; she was just one of many. Doro didn’t feel an urge to speak with any of them, but enjoyed taking everything in on her own.
Perhaps most fascinating of all was the fact that there was a female racer among the men. People were whispering the Leventi name and so Dorothea assumed that must be one of the girls. She knew some but not well and couldn’t get a decent view point to see the riders yet. This was something Dorothea knew she mustn’t miss.
Finally, she found a secluded area with a view of the track. There was another girl there and Dorothea hoped she wouldn’t mind the company. She didn’t recognize the other girl, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. She had probably spent more time at court than Dorothea had as it was.
Smiling, she asked, “Do you mind if I join you? It’s hard to find a good spot elsewhere and I didn’t want to sit with my father and brother.” She moved closer, glancing between the girl and the track. “Exciting, isn’t it? I’ve never been to anything like this. I’m Dorothea of Dimitrou by the way.” Her introduction was belated as she realized she should have led with it. Ah, well, the action was too distracting.
A fourteen year old Dorothea could be very persistent. She had been begging her father for weeks and weeks and weeks. A horse race would be magnificent to witness. It would be even more magnificent to enter, but Dorothea knew when and when not to push her father. From his reaction to her first request, she thought it best not to make the second one. It would be enough to go and witness everything. They hardly went to anything anymore – not that she could remember going to much when her mother was alive, but they certainly didn’t go to anything now. Gavriil preferred to stay at home and for the most part, Dorothea didn’t mind it either. However, when she had heard some servants speaking of the upcoming race, there was no stopping her.
Persistence gave way to success and they were now here for the day. It was the most exciting thing they had done in forever and Doro was planning to take it all in. Nearly immediately after they had arrived and found a place to settle, did she go bounding off with a promise to return eventually.
It was exciting to be in a crowd with others – something Dorothea was far from used to. She didn’t exactly love how close she had to get to people, but there was also something exciting about the new experience. It was also nice to be a relatively small child, though she was sprouting up quickly, but it meant that most people didn’t pay her any attention. There were other children running around; she was just one of many. Doro didn’t feel an urge to speak with any of them, but enjoyed taking everything in on her own.
Perhaps most fascinating of all was the fact that there was a female racer among the men. People were whispering the Leventi name and so Dorothea assumed that must be one of the girls. She knew some but not well and couldn’t get a decent view point to see the riders yet. This was something Dorothea knew she mustn’t miss.
Finally, she found a secluded area with a view of the track. There was another girl there and Dorothea hoped she wouldn’t mind the company. She didn’t recognize the other girl, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. She had probably spent more time at court than Dorothea had as it was.
Smiling, she asked, “Do you mind if I join you? It’s hard to find a good spot elsewhere and I didn’t want to sit with my father and brother.” She moved closer, glancing between the girl and the track. “Exciting, isn’t it? I’ve never been to anything like this. I’m Dorothea of Dimitrou by the way.” Her introduction was belated as she realized she should have led with it. Ah, well, the action was too distracting.
Melina was unsurprised to find herself watching the races alone. Though it was a bit sad to think about how often that happened. Her sisters were off watching somewhere, Evie was with Nikos, then, of course, the other cousins were off hanging in pairs. Indeed, it was a bit frustrating. Yet, the young girl found herself peering around, eyes intently watching other individuals just as her mind fantasized about the race magic. While the enchantment of the race had faded somewhat in the girl’s mind, Melina sought to instead find someone to talk to.
Perhaps she could talk to the instigator of the rock-throwing. Melina was pretty sure it was one of the princes. While Achilleas seemed rather preoccupied with guilt, Stephanos always had that cheeky look about him that made her conclude that he must have been the culprit. Of course, what really tipped the scales was noticing her younger cousin Nana in throe with them. What if they taught her to use rocks as projectiles? While the blonde would probably enjoy the attention, it wouldn’t help if she landed in trouble. Preoccupation covered what had once been relaxed features, Melina already deciding to join them soon.
Already justifying her reasons as simply wanting to say hello to Nana and talk to Stephanos privately, Melina tried to give herself silent encouragement. She could do it, yes, she could. She could talk to the princes, it would be simple, right? She’d have to see them in court anyway. Yet, anxiety was already starting to clutch at the teen, beginning to pull down whatever suggestions she had thought to be good ones. Look at the horses, and breathe. Breathe.
The young Leventi had only managed to stifle what had been a shriek as someone approached her during one of her anxious fits. Breathing heavily through her nose, she gave the brunette a bright smile, as if trying to wipe away any bits of her anxiety. Perhaps the smile was too bright, but her father wasn’t there to tell her that. “Oh, hello.” It took her a second to grasp onto what had been said, especially as the teen moved closer. “Oh, join me?” Her voice went a bit high, as she tried to settle herself. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. “Forgive me, I was watching so intently, I forgot that there would be other people around me.”
Her excuse sounded sheepish, yet it was better than admitting that she had an anxiety attack. Watching as the racers made their way across the track, Melina nodded at the introduction. “It really is. My cousin is one of the racers. See that woman over there?” Pointing at the race track, right as the horses went past them, she bounced on her feet. “That’s Selene of Leventi.” Lowering her hand to her side, she noticed that she introduced her cousin before she even introduced herself to Dorothea. “And I’m Melina.”
Her smile grew more natural, though it turned into a grimace as she gazed upon Stephanos again. “Would you like to join me over there, actually?” A gesture towards the area where Achilleas, Stephanos, and the blonde head of Nana could be seen. “I want to make sure my cousin Nana is okay.” That was her excuse, she didn’t want to say the truth, that she wanted to talk to the prince and ask why they were throwing projectiles Evangelina’s way.
Footsteps brought her closer to the Mikaelidas princes, a look of determination filling her features. She could do it, she could. She just needed to believe in herself. Why was she doing this? Bringing a new acquaintance with her? Talking to the princes? Those were things that she shouldn't do. Yet, already she could imagine telling her mother with pride that she had made a new friend and had tried to get out of her shell. As she finally approached the pair, she waved at her cousin first, before giving the men a curtsy. "May I join you guys, your highness?"
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Melina was unsurprised to find herself watching the races alone. Though it was a bit sad to think about how often that happened. Her sisters were off watching somewhere, Evie was with Nikos, then, of course, the other cousins were off hanging in pairs. Indeed, it was a bit frustrating. Yet, the young girl found herself peering around, eyes intently watching other individuals just as her mind fantasized about the race magic. While the enchantment of the race had faded somewhat in the girl’s mind, Melina sought to instead find someone to talk to.
Perhaps she could talk to the instigator of the rock-throwing. Melina was pretty sure it was one of the princes. While Achilleas seemed rather preoccupied with guilt, Stephanos always had that cheeky look about him that made her conclude that he must have been the culprit. Of course, what really tipped the scales was noticing her younger cousin Nana in throe with them. What if they taught her to use rocks as projectiles? While the blonde would probably enjoy the attention, it wouldn’t help if she landed in trouble. Preoccupation covered what had once been relaxed features, Melina already deciding to join them soon.
Already justifying her reasons as simply wanting to say hello to Nana and talk to Stephanos privately, Melina tried to give herself silent encouragement. She could do it, yes, she could. She could talk to the princes, it would be simple, right? She’d have to see them in court anyway. Yet, anxiety was already starting to clutch at the teen, beginning to pull down whatever suggestions she had thought to be good ones. Look at the horses, and breathe. Breathe.
The young Leventi had only managed to stifle what had been a shriek as someone approached her during one of her anxious fits. Breathing heavily through her nose, she gave the brunette a bright smile, as if trying to wipe away any bits of her anxiety. Perhaps the smile was too bright, but her father wasn’t there to tell her that. “Oh, hello.” It took her a second to grasp onto what had been said, especially as the teen moved closer. “Oh, join me?” Her voice went a bit high, as she tried to settle herself. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. “Forgive me, I was watching so intently, I forgot that there would be other people around me.”
Her excuse sounded sheepish, yet it was better than admitting that she had an anxiety attack. Watching as the racers made their way across the track, Melina nodded at the introduction. “It really is. My cousin is one of the racers. See that woman over there?” Pointing at the race track, right as the horses went past them, she bounced on her feet. “That’s Selene of Leventi.” Lowering her hand to her side, she noticed that she introduced her cousin before she even introduced herself to Dorothea. “And I’m Melina.”
Her smile grew more natural, though it turned into a grimace as she gazed upon Stephanos again. “Would you like to join me over there, actually?” A gesture towards the area where Achilleas, Stephanos, and the blonde head of Nana could be seen. “I want to make sure my cousin Nana is okay.” That was her excuse, she didn’t want to say the truth, that she wanted to talk to the prince and ask why they were throwing projectiles Evangelina’s way.
Footsteps brought her closer to the Mikaelidas princes, a look of determination filling her features. She could do it, she could. She just needed to believe in herself. Why was she doing this? Bringing a new acquaintance with her? Talking to the princes? Those were things that she shouldn't do. Yet, already she could imagine telling her mother with pride that she had made a new friend and had tried to get out of her shell. As she finally approached the pair, she waved at her cousin first, before giving the men a curtsy. "May I join you guys, your highness?"
Melina was unsurprised to find herself watching the races alone. Though it was a bit sad to think about how often that happened. Her sisters were off watching somewhere, Evie was with Nikos, then, of course, the other cousins were off hanging in pairs. Indeed, it was a bit frustrating. Yet, the young girl found herself peering around, eyes intently watching other individuals just as her mind fantasized about the race magic. While the enchantment of the race had faded somewhat in the girl’s mind, Melina sought to instead find someone to talk to.
Perhaps she could talk to the instigator of the rock-throwing. Melina was pretty sure it was one of the princes. While Achilleas seemed rather preoccupied with guilt, Stephanos always had that cheeky look about him that made her conclude that he must have been the culprit. Of course, what really tipped the scales was noticing her younger cousin Nana in throe with them. What if they taught her to use rocks as projectiles? While the blonde would probably enjoy the attention, it wouldn’t help if she landed in trouble. Preoccupation covered what had once been relaxed features, Melina already deciding to join them soon.
Already justifying her reasons as simply wanting to say hello to Nana and talk to Stephanos privately, Melina tried to give herself silent encouragement. She could do it, yes, she could. She could talk to the princes, it would be simple, right? She’d have to see them in court anyway. Yet, anxiety was already starting to clutch at the teen, beginning to pull down whatever suggestions she had thought to be good ones. Look at the horses, and breathe. Breathe.
The young Leventi had only managed to stifle what had been a shriek as someone approached her during one of her anxious fits. Breathing heavily through her nose, she gave the brunette a bright smile, as if trying to wipe away any bits of her anxiety. Perhaps the smile was too bright, but her father wasn’t there to tell her that. “Oh, hello.” It took her a second to grasp onto what had been said, especially as the teen moved closer. “Oh, join me?” Her voice went a bit high, as she tried to settle herself. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. “Forgive me, I was watching so intently, I forgot that there would be other people around me.”
Her excuse sounded sheepish, yet it was better than admitting that she had an anxiety attack. Watching as the racers made their way across the track, Melina nodded at the introduction. “It really is. My cousin is one of the racers. See that woman over there?” Pointing at the race track, right as the horses went past them, she bounced on her feet. “That’s Selene of Leventi.” Lowering her hand to her side, she noticed that she introduced her cousin before she even introduced herself to Dorothea. “And I’m Melina.”
Her smile grew more natural, though it turned into a grimace as she gazed upon Stephanos again. “Would you like to join me over there, actually?” A gesture towards the area where Achilleas, Stephanos, and the blonde head of Nana could be seen. “I want to make sure my cousin Nana is okay.” That was her excuse, she didn’t want to say the truth, that she wanted to talk to the prince and ask why they were throwing projectiles Evangelina’s way.
Footsteps brought her closer to the Mikaelidas princes, a look of determination filling her features. She could do it, she could. She just needed to believe in herself. Why was she doing this? Bringing a new acquaintance with her? Talking to the princes? Those were things that she shouldn't do. Yet, already she could imagine telling her mother with pride that she had made a new friend and had tried to get out of her shell. As she finally approached the pair, she waved at her cousin first, before giving the men a curtsy. "May I join you guys, your highness?"
Selene hated losing. She hated feeling like a failure when she had spent years perfecting her skills. There was no reason either of these men should beat her, save for the fact that her horse didn’t seem to have its head on straight. Every time she inched closer to the other man, it jerked back, then surged forward beyond her control. There was a short lead, and she was able to keep him in control long enough to try and catch up again.
Then the cycle would repeat itself.
She had to choose a new tactic, knowing that continuing to go for the main target would have her on her back quicker than ever. Instead, she held back for just a breath, allowing the two to fight for control over the flag. Selene stayed to Zachiarias’ side, hoping that the body between the two of them would stop her own horse from reacting. And, like she hoped, it worked long enough for him to secure the flag, all but running into her as he did. She had to pull back to avoid injury, but she was deterred from her own plan.
Now that she could dig in, she pushed her horse to catch the prince’s.
It didn’t take her long to catch up to him, her own skills on a horse matching his. A part of her wished she had picked her own horse, but it was too late for her to change now. Luckily, she had enough experience to trust her gut to try her plan. Edging closer to the prince’s horse, she all but slid out of the saddle. Instead of falling, her leg had slipped into the space between the saddle and flesh, tightly keeping her in place. She gave the horse a bit of leeway, watching as it stepped closer to the target. It was then that she let her body drop to the left hand side, her free leg propped against the horse’s flank to keep herself from falling. Luck was on her side as she stretched out in an attempt to steal the flag from the pummel.
A misstep all but tossed her onto the ground.
She recovered, but not quick enough to make another attempt like that at the flag. Swearing, she kicked her horse into gear, determined to try and steal the flag again. She would not lose to fools simply because she didn’t want to overly show off.
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Selene hated losing. She hated feeling like a failure when she had spent years perfecting her skills. There was no reason either of these men should beat her, save for the fact that her horse didn’t seem to have its head on straight. Every time she inched closer to the other man, it jerked back, then surged forward beyond her control. There was a short lead, and she was able to keep him in control long enough to try and catch up again.
Then the cycle would repeat itself.
She had to choose a new tactic, knowing that continuing to go for the main target would have her on her back quicker than ever. Instead, she held back for just a breath, allowing the two to fight for control over the flag. Selene stayed to Zachiarias’ side, hoping that the body between the two of them would stop her own horse from reacting. And, like she hoped, it worked long enough for him to secure the flag, all but running into her as he did. She had to pull back to avoid injury, but she was deterred from her own plan.
Now that she could dig in, she pushed her horse to catch the prince’s.
It didn’t take her long to catch up to him, her own skills on a horse matching his. A part of her wished she had picked her own horse, but it was too late for her to change now. Luckily, she had enough experience to trust her gut to try her plan. Edging closer to the prince’s horse, she all but slid out of the saddle. Instead of falling, her leg had slipped into the space between the saddle and flesh, tightly keeping her in place. She gave the horse a bit of leeway, watching as it stepped closer to the target. It was then that she let her body drop to the left hand side, her free leg propped against the horse’s flank to keep herself from falling. Luck was on her side as she stretched out in an attempt to steal the flag from the pummel.
A misstep all but tossed her onto the ground.
She recovered, but not quick enough to make another attempt like that at the flag. Swearing, she kicked her horse into gear, determined to try and steal the flag again. She would not lose to fools simply because she didn’t want to overly show off.
Selene hated losing. She hated feeling like a failure when she had spent years perfecting her skills. There was no reason either of these men should beat her, save for the fact that her horse didn’t seem to have its head on straight. Every time she inched closer to the other man, it jerked back, then surged forward beyond her control. There was a short lead, and she was able to keep him in control long enough to try and catch up again.
Then the cycle would repeat itself.
She had to choose a new tactic, knowing that continuing to go for the main target would have her on her back quicker than ever. Instead, she held back for just a breath, allowing the two to fight for control over the flag. Selene stayed to Zachiarias’ side, hoping that the body between the two of them would stop her own horse from reacting. And, like she hoped, it worked long enough for him to secure the flag, all but running into her as he did. She had to pull back to avoid injury, but she was deterred from her own plan.
Now that she could dig in, she pushed her horse to catch the prince’s.
It didn’t take her long to catch up to him, her own skills on a horse matching his. A part of her wished she had picked her own horse, but it was too late for her to change now. Luckily, she had enough experience to trust her gut to try her plan. Edging closer to the prince’s horse, she all but slid out of the saddle. Instead of falling, her leg had slipped into the space between the saddle and flesh, tightly keeping her in place. She gave the horse a bit of leeway, watching as it stepped closer to the target. It was then that she let her body drop to the left hand side, her free leg propped against the horse’s flank to keep herself from falling. Luck was on her side as she stretched out in an attempt to steal the flag from the pummel.
A misstep all but tossed her onto the ground.
She recovered, but not quick enough to make another attempt like that at the flag. Swearing, she kicked her horse into gear, determined to try and steal the flag again. She would not lose to fools simply because she didn’t want to overly show off.
He was not having a good day. First Theodora had all but dismissed him, and now he had somehow ended up making one little girl cry whilst having another trailing after him like she had decided he was her official chaperone for the event. He was glaring at Stephanos indignantly, half wanting to point out the fact that this had all been his foolish idea, at the same time as he wondered why he’d let himself be drawn into it in the first place.
But Stephanos never kept his attention in one place for long, and with a long-suffering sigh, Achilleas let himself be pulled along, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the girl that did not seem to be being easily shaken off. “She’s not going anywhere” he said in a warning tone to his cousin, but it was half-hearted. Achilleas too wanted to see the race, and they were at risk of missing it altogether if they continued with this tomfoolery.
“Gods sake, shut up” he grumbled, when Stephanos pointed out that the other little Leventi girl had run past them in her upset and looked to be taking herself away from the festivities. To his chagrin, Lord Nikos appeared to follow her, and Achilleas could not bring himself to have to make small talk with that idiot in order to apologise. Never mind the fact that he’d be admitting their involvement in the stone tossing in front of their intended target if he did so. It seemed as if there was to be no making amends for his poor aim today.
As the Mikaelidas cousins came to a halt at a point where they could see the starters lining up for the race, Achilleas reached out to take a cup of wine from a passing servant and took a rather overlarge gulp as Stephanos pointed out the Crown Prince amongst the riders. He looked rather impressive, and Achilleas sighed because his own conduct could not be considered so today. And then he narrowed his gaze at the younger prince beside him, giving a dismissive shake of his head. “You’re hilarious. I am sure I do not tell you enough”
He did not wave at anyone, just sipped at his wine and shot the occasional glance at their little shadow as if to check she was still there. And then his attention was on the runners and riders for it appeared the pre-race inspection was underway. “Is that the Lady Selene?” he asked, a slight surprise bleeding into his voice. “Racing with the men?”
There was some jostling at the start, and the horses had to be arranged to the Leventi Lords’ satisfaction, but before the race could begin there was a shrill voice to his left that had the Mikealidas lord turn his head.
"May I join you guys, your highness?"
Given that the one who had spoken clearly addressed his cousin, Achilleas said nothing but gave the girls a rather bewildered nod of his head in lieu of a bow.
What on earth?! Where were they coming from? Where were their chaperones? And why did Achilleas and Stephanos seem to be gathering a crowd of them? His attention drifted from the two girls back to the beach, because the race was about to begin and he didn’t want to miss it, but equally, Achilleas did not want Stephanos to assent to stewarding a pack of mini Leventis for the rest of the day. He looked them over and tried to place them, but there were certainly no names presenting themselves.
“Should you not be with your parents? The race is about to begin” he observed, lifting a haughty brow. It was politely done, but a very clear ‘shoo’, that just missed the airy waving of a hand to accompany it.
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He was not having a good day. First Theodora had all but dismissed him, and now he had somehow ended up making one little girl cry whilst having another trailing after him like she had decided he was her official chaperone for the event. He was glaring at Stephanos indignantly, half wanting to point out the fact that this had all been his foolish idea, at the same time as he wondered why he’d let himself be drawn into it in the first place.
But Stephanos never kept his attention in one place for long, and with a long-suffering sigh, Achilleas let himself be pulled along, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the girl that did not seem to be being easily shaken off. “She’s not going anywhere” he said in a warning tone to his cousin, but it was half-hearted. Achilleas too wanted to see the race, and they were at risk of missing it altogether if they continued with this tomfoolery.
“Gods sake, shut up” he grumbled, when Stephanos pointed out that the other little Leventi girl had run past them in her upset and looked to be taking herself away from the festivities. To his chagrin, Lord Nikos appeared to follow her, and Achilleas could not bring himself to have to make small talk with that idiot in order to apologise. Never mind the fact that he’d be admitting their involvement in the stone tossing in front of their intended target if he did so. It seemed as if there was to be no making amends for his poor aim today.
As the Mikaelidas cousins came to a halt at a point where they could see the starters lining up for the race, Achilleas reached out to take a cup of wine from a passing servant and took a rather overlarge gulp as Stephanos pointed out the Crown Prince amongst the riders. He looked rather impressive, and Achilleas sighed because his own conduct could not be considered so today. And then he narrowed his gaze at the younger prince beside him, giving a dismissive shake of his head. “You’re hilarious. I am sure I do not tell you enough”
He did not wave at anyone, just sipped at his wine and shot the occasional glance at their little shadow as if to check she was still there. And then his attention was on the runners and riders for it appeared the pre-race inspection was underway. “Is that the Lady Selene?” he asked, a slight surprise bleeding into his voice. “Racing with the men?”
There was some jostling at the start, and the horses had to be arranged to the Leventi Lords’ satisfaction, but before the race could begin there was a shrill voice to his left that had the Mikealidas lord turn his head.
"May I join you guys, your highness?"
Given that the one who had spoken clearly addressed his cousin, Achilleas said nothing but gave the girls a rather bewildered nod of his head in lieu of a bow.
What on earth?! Where were they coming from? Where were their chaperones? And why did Achilleas and Stephanos seem to be gathering a crowd of them? His attention drifted from the two girls back to the beach, because the race was about to begin and he didn’t want to miss it, but equally, Achilleas did not want Stephanos to assent to stewarding a pack of mini Leventis for the rest of the day. He looked them over and tried to place them, but there were certainly no names presenting themselves.
“Should you not be with your parents? The race is about to begin” he observed, lifting a haughty brow. It was politely done, but a very clear ‘shoo’, that just missed the airy waving of a hand to accompany it.
He was not having a good day. First Theodora had all but dismissed him, and now he had somehow ended up making one little girl cry whilst having another trailing after him like she had decided he was her official chaperone for the event. He was glaring at Stephanos indignantly, half wanting to point out the fact that this had all been his foolish idea, at the same time as he wondered why he’d let himself be drawn into it in the first place.
But Stephanos never kept his attention in one place for long, and with a long-suffering sigh, Achilleas let himself be pulled along, tossing a glance over his shoulder at the girl that did not seem to be being easily shaken off. “She’s not going anywhere” he said in a warning tone to his cousin, but it was half-hearted. Achilleas too wanted to see the race, and they were at risk of missing it altogether if they continued with this tomfoolery.
“Gods sake, shut up” he grumbled, when Stephanos pointed out that the other little Leventi girl had run past them in her upset and looked to be taking herself away from the festivities. To his chagrin, Lord Nikos appeared to follow her, and Achilleas could not bring himself to have to make small talk with that idiot in order to apologise. Never mind the fact that he’d be admitting their involvement in the stone tossing in front of their intended target if he did so. It seemed as if there was to be no making amends for his poor aim today.
As the Mikaelidas cousins came to a halt at a point where they could see the starters lining up for the race, Achilleas reached out to take a cup of wine from a passing servant and took a rather overlarge gulp as Stephanos pointed out the Crown Prince amongst the riders. He looked rather impressive, and Achilleas sighed because his own conduct could not be considered so today. And then he narrowed his gaze at the younger prince beside him, giving a dismissive shake of his head. “You’re hilarious. I am sure I do not tell you enough”
He did not wave at anyone, just sipped at his wine and shot the occasional glance at their little shadow as if to check she was still there. And then his attention was on the runners and riders for it appeared the pre-race inspection was underway. “Is that the Lady Selene?” he asked, a slight surprise bleeding into his voice. “Racing with the men?”
There was some jostling at the start, and the horses had to be arranged to the Leventi Lords’ satisfaction, but before the race could begin there was a shrill voice to his left that had the Mikealidas lord turn his head.
"May I join you guys, your highness?"
Given that the one who had spoken clearly addressed his cousin, Achilleas said nothing but gave the girls a rather bewildered nod of his head in lieu of a bow.
What on earth?! Where were they coming from? Where were their chaperones? And why did Achilleas and Stephanos seem to be gathering a crowd of them? His attention drifted from the two girls back to the beach, because the race was about to begin and he didn’t want to miss it, but equally, Achilleas did not want Stephanos to assent to stewarding a pack of mini Leventis for the rest of the day. He looked them over and tried to place them, but there were certainly no names presenting themselves.
“Should you not be with your parents? The race is about to begin” he observed, lifting a haughty brow. It was politely done, but a very clear ‘shoo’, that just missed the airy waving of a hand to accompany it.
“Is that the Lady Selene?” Achilleas asked “Racing with the men?”
“Looks to be so,” Stephanos answered, unconcerned. “She’d do just about anything to get Zacharias to notice her, I think.” It didn’t occur to Stephanos that maybe Selene was riding for her own amusement. Not to snag the Crown Prince. Two birds, one stone? Possibly.
Stephanos stood with his arms crossed over his chest, not paying the least bit of attention to Nana, Achilleas, or anyone else after a few seconds. His eyes were pinned to the racers and his elder brother in particular. “What are you doing!?” he shouted, cupping his hand against his mouth so that Zach could potentially hear him. “Forget Selene!” Stephanos shouted unhappily, seeing that his brother was actually trying to stay with the girl? Why? He didn’t even like Selene. Stephanos knew from the infrequent comments that Zacharias dropped, that the Crown Prince’s preference was to avoid Selene of Leventi if at all possible. That way, he couldn’t get somehow tricked into marrying her. Although, Stephanos couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Selene was gorgeous and he thought his brother an idiot to keep trying to avoid a woman so clearly after him. Not wanting to be second fiddle to his brother, Stephanos hadn’t bothered to attempt to make friends with Selene. He was pretty sure he could succeed with the woman but at the risk of losing his brother’s respect. Not worth it.
"May I join you guys, your highness?" The unfamiliar voice pulled the prince’s attention away from the action for a single moment, to find that he and Achilleas were now surrounded by short, preteen girls. At twenty three, Stephanos was not overly interested in girls who weren’t at court and, by that extension, too young to be truly interesting. He hadn’t caught his cousin’s silent entreaty to tell them to go away before he answered.
“Stand where you like-HEY!” he turned immediately back to the races, shouting at his brother to get a move on and then cheering when Zacharias finally snagged the flag. “I told you!” he shoved Achilleas’s shoulder, pointing. “Zacharias can do anything.” Maybe there was a hint or two of jealousy in his younger years that his elder brother was practically perfect, but there was no hint of it now; only pride. Unlike Achilleas, who stood beside him, deep in self flagellation for mistakes they had or hadn’t made a few minutes ago, all that was gone and forgotten for Stephanos. No one had been seriously injured, he’d aimed his own rocks to perfectly strike Nikos, he did not care a wit about what Nana of Leventi was doing; that was her mother’s job, and so he watched the race, perfectly content to live in this moment and no other.
Glancing away from the race, he finally actually looked at who was standing near them. Another Leventi...he was trying to think. Mobia? Lenia? Mobilena? Something like that. And then there was Doromea of Dimitrou, one he’d know from a mile off because she had the same look that all the Dimitrou had. Too brown, too dark. A bit plain, and he’d seen the other two Dimitrous in the crowd. Process of deduction. He was really, really good with names, he decided. Zacharias could eat that list of names he’d shoved in Stephanos’s face to memorize. No need to more than skim read it. Memorizing extensive families was exhausting. No need to really know them until they were a bit more grown up, in Steph’s opinion.
“Lady Mobialenia, Lady Doromea,” he nodded his head and gave a winking smirk to Achilleas. Yeah. Got this down.
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“Is that the Lady Selene?” Achilleas asked “Racing with the men?”
“Looks to be so,” Stephanos answered, unconcerned. “She’d do just about anything to get Zacharias to notice her, I think.” It didn’t occur to Stephanos that maybe Selene was riding for her own amusement. Not to snag the Crown Prince. Two birds, one stone? Possibly.
Stephanos stood with his arms crossed over his chest, not paying the least bit of attention to Nana, Achilleas, or anyone else after a few seconds. His eyes were pinned to the racers and his elder brother in particular. “What are you doing!?” he shouted, cupping his hand against his mouth so that Zach could potentially hear him. “Forget Selene!” Stephanos shouted unhappily, seeing that his brother was actually trying to stay with the girl? Why? He didn’t even like Selene. Stephanos knew from the infrequent comments that Zacharias dropped, that the Crown Prince’s preference was to avoid Selene of Leventi if at all possible. That way, he couldn’t get somehow tricked into marrying her. Although, Stephanos couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Selene was gorgeous and he thought his brother an idiot to keep trying to avoid a woman so clearly after him. Not wanting to be second fiddle to his brother, Stephanos hadn’t bothered to attempt to make friends with Selene. He was pretty sure he could succeed with the woman but at the risk of losing his brother’s respect. Not worth it.
"May I join you guys, your highness?" The unfamiliar voice pulled the prince’s attention away from the action for a single moment, to find that he and Achilleas were now surrounded by short, preteen girls. At twenty three, Stephanos was not overly interested in girls who weren’t at court and, by that extension, too young to be truly interesting. He hadn’t caught his cousin’s silent entreaty to tell them to go away before he answered.
“Stand where you like-HEY!” he turned immediately back to the races, shouting at his brother to get a move on and then cheering when Zacharias finally snagged the flag. “I told you!” he shoved Achilleas’s shoulder, pointing. “Zacharias can do anything.” Maybe there was a hint or two of jealousy in his younger years that his elder brother was practically perfect, but there was no hint of it now; only pride. Unlike Achilleas, who stood beside him, deep in self flagellation for mistakes they had or hadn’t made a few minutes ago, all that was gone and forgotten for Stephanos. No one had been seriously injured, he’d aimed his own rocks to perfectly strike Nikos, he did not care a wit about what Nana of Leventi was doing; that was her mother’s job, and so he watched the race, perfectly content to live in this moment and no other.
Glancing away from the race, he finally actually looked at who was standing near them. Another Leventi...he was trying to think. Mobia? Lenia? Mobilena? Something like that. And then there was Doromea of Dimitrou, one he’d know from a mile off because she had the same look that all the Dimitrou had. Too brown, too dark. A bit plain, and he’d seen the other two Dimitrous in the crowd. Process of deduction. He was really, really good with names, he decided. Zacharias could eat that list of names he’d shoved in Stephanos’s face to memorize. No need to more than skim read it. Memorizing extensive families was exhausting. No need to really know them until they were a bit more grown up, in Steph’s opinion.
“Lady Mobialenia, Lady Doromea,” he nodded his head and gave a winking smirk to Achilleas. Yeah. Got this down.
“Is that the Lady Selene?” Achilleas asked “Racing with the men?”
“Looks to be so,” Stephanos answered, unconcerned. “She’d do just about anything to get Zacharias to notice her, I think.” It didn’t occur to Stephanos that maybe Selene was riding for her own amusement. Not to snag the Crown Prince. Two birds, one stone? Possibly.
Stephanos stood with his arms crossed over his chest, not paying the least bit of attention to Nana, Achilleas, or anyone else after a few seconds. His eyes were pinned to the racers and his elder brother in particular. “What are you doing!?” he shouted, cupping his hand against his mouth so that Zach could potentially hear him. “Forget Selene!” Stephanos shouted unhappily, seeing that his brother was actually trying to stay with the girl? Why? He didn’t even like Selene. Stephanos knew from the infrequent comments that Zacharias dropped, that the Crown Prince’s preference was to avoid Selene of Leventi if at all possible. That way, he couldn’t get somehow tricked into marrying her. Although, Stephanos couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Selene was gorgeous and he thought his brother an idiot to keep trying to avoid a woman so clearly after him. Not wanting to be second fiddle to his brother, Stephanos hadn’t bothered to attempt to make friends with Selene. He was pretty sure he could succeed with the woman but at the risk of losing his brother’s respect. Not worth it.
"May I join you guys, your highness?" The unfamiliar voice pulled the prince’s attention away from the action for a single moment, to find that he and Achilleas were now surrounded by short, preteen girls. At twenty three, Stephanos was not overly interested in girls who weren’t at court and, by that extension, too young to be truly interesting. He hadn’t caught his cousin’s silent entreaty to tell them to go away before he answered.
“Stand where you like-HEY!” he turned immediately back to the races, shouting at his brother to get a move on and then cheering when Zacharias finally snagged the flag. “I told you!” he shoved Achilleas’s shoulder, pointing. “Zacharias can do anything.” Maybe there was a hint or two of jealousy in his younger years that his elder brother was practically perfect, but there was no hint of it now; only pride. Unlike Achilleas, who stood beside him, deep in self flagellation for mistakes they had or hadn’t made a few minutes ago, all that was gone and forgotten for Stephanos. No one had been seriously injured, he’d aimed his own rocks to perfectly strike Nikos, he did not care a wit about what Nana of Leventi was doing; that was her mother’s job, and so he watched the race, perfectly content to live in this moment and no other.
Glancing away from the race, he finally actually looked at who was standing near them. Another Leventi...he was trying to think. Mobia? Lenia? Mobilena? Something like that. And then there was Doromea of Dimitrou, one he’d know from a mile off because she had the same look that all the Dimitrou had. Too brown, too dark. A bit plain, and he’d seen the other two Dimitrous in the crowd. Process of deduction. He was really, really good with names, he decided. Zacharias could eat that list of names he’d shoved in Stephanos’s face to memorize. No need to more than skim read it. Memorizing extensive families was exhausting. No need to really know them until they were a bit more grown up, in Steph’s opinion.
“Lady Mobialenia, Lady Doromea,” he nodded his head and gave a winking smirk to Achilleas. Yeah. Got this down.
Fotios was watching the race with interest, considering whether Selene's unladylike skill and discipline on a horse would be off-putting or impressive to the Crown Prince.
He had been hoping that Zacharias would fall into a royal hero role if Selene was forced to ride beside a mare in heat and trouble with ensue with her horse. But it looked as if Zacharias' tendencies towards princely perfections and successes ran stronger than his masculine instinct to protect a damsel in distress. Perhaps it would be Selene's capabilities without the need of rescuing that would win over the man in the end, nonetheless.
Distracted for a moment from the race below - despite the fact that the contestants had now passed the half way point and were racing towards the finish line, the flag currently with the prince himself - Fotios turned at the sound of his daughter's voice nearby.
Frowning, Fotios was unsure what the girl was doing there as he had left her at Georgios' manor where he and his family were staying. Too young by a few years to be interacting with men of the nobility, Fotios was surprisingly prudish over the chastity of his children. Evangelina was by a niece and her reputation was for her father to decide upon. He had plenty of others to marry off profitably to care little for whether Evangelina made a mockery of herself - provided there were enough holders of the Leventi name to correct any damage to the House crest and reputation. But his own daughter he was not so discarding of. She was not yet fifteen and not yet an adult and she was not to speak intimated with men of age.
Striding over to the group that Melina had naturally fallen into, Fotios was quick to make his presence known to his daughter with a sharp barking of her name.
"Melina." He told her without mercy for the conversation she may have been having with the other around her. "Come witness your cousin in the race below and show her your respect." He ordered, his determination to have her away from the men covered with an excuse of familial fealty. Reaching out a hand that he would place upon her shoulder if she stepped in and obeyed her, Fotios offered a polite nod to the Lady Dorothea - an invitation for her to join them in watching the finale of the race should she wish to. He gave no such implication to the men.
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Fotios was watching the race with interest, considering whether Selene's unladylike skill and discipline on a horse would be off-putting or impressive to the Crown Prince.
He had been hoping that Zacharias would fall into a royal hero role if Selene was forced to ride beside a mare in heat and trouble with ensue with her horse. But it looked as if Zacharias' tendencies towards princely perfections and successes ran stronger than his masculine instinct to protect a damsel in distress. Perhaps it would be Selene's capabilities without the need of rescuing that would win over the man in the end, nonetheless.
Distracted for a moment from the race below - despite the fact that the contestants had now passed the half way point and were racing towards the finish line, the flag currently with the prince himself - Fotios turned at the sound of his daughter's voice nearby.
Frowning, Fotios was unsure what the girl was doing there as he had left her at Georgios' manor where he and his family were staying. Too young by a few years to be interacting with men of the nobility, Fotios was surprisingly prudish over the chastity of his children. Evangelina was by a niece and her reputation was for her father to decide upon. He had plenty of others to marry off profitably to care little for whether Evangelina made a mockery of herself - provided there were enough holders of the Leventi name to correct any damage to the House crest and reputation. But his own daughter he was not so discarding of. She was not yet fifteen and not yet an adult and she was not to speak intimated with men of age.
Striding over to the group that Melina had naturally fallen into, Fotios was quick to make his presence known to his daughter with a sharp barking of her name.
"Melina." He told her without mercy for the conversation she may have been having with the other around her. "Come witness your cousin in the race below and show her your respect." He ordered, his determination to have her away from the men covered with an excuse of familial fealty. Reaching out a hand that he would place upon her shoulder if she stepped in and obeyed her, Fotios offered a polite nod to the Lady Dorothea - an invitation for her to join them in watching the finale of the race should she wish to. He gave no such implication to the men.
Fotios was watching the race with interest, considering whether Selene's unladylike skill and discipline on a horse would be off-putting or impressive to the Crown Prince.
He had been hoping that Zacharias would fall into a royal hero role if Selene was forced to ride beside a mare in heat and trouble with ensue with her horse. But it looked as if Zacharias' tendencies towards princely perfections and successes ran stronger than his masculine instinct to protect a damsel in distress. Perhaps it would be Selene's capabilities without the need of rescuing that would win over the man in the end, nonetheless.
Distracted for a moment from the race below - despite the fact that the contestants had now passed the half way point and were racing towards the finish line, the flag currently with the prince himself - Fotios turned at the sound of his daughter's voice nearby.
Frowning, Fotios was unsure what the girl was doing there as he had left her at Georgios' manor where he and his family were staying. Too young by a few years to be interacting with men of the nobility, Fotios was surprisingly prudish over the chastity of his children. Evangelina was by a niece and her reputation was for her father to decide upon. He had plenty of others to marry off profitably to care little for whether Evangelina made a mockery of herself - provided there were enough holders of the Leventi name to correct any damage to the House crest and reputation. But his own daughter he was not so discarding of. She was not yet fifteen and not yet an adult and she was not to speak intimated with men of age.
Striding over to the group that Melina had naturally fallen into, Fotios was quick to make his presence known to his daughter with a sharp barking of her name.
"Melina." He told her without mercy for the conversation she may have been having with the other around her. "Come witness your cousin in the race below and show her your respect." He ordered, his determination to have her away from the men covered with an excuse of familial fealty. Reaching out a hand that he would place upon her shoulder if she stepped in and obeyed her, Fotios offered a polite nod to the Lady Dorothea - an invitation for her to join them in watching the finale of the race should she wish to. He gave no such implication to the men.
Dorothea had never been the best at making friends. She’d been exposed to precious few others outside of her family and her time at court had been limited. So, she knew it was a bit of a risk when she approached the other girl, but was also drawn by how the girl was watching the race so intently. Of course it was interesting, but Dorothea hadn’t expected to see others so interested in it. Especially a girl her own age.
The girl indicated that her cousin was the woman racing and Dorothea felt herself admiring them both by association. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find that Melina was a Leventi, but she just didn’t see the resemblance in the way that her father had described the family. Melina seemed…nicer?
“She’s quite spectacular,” Dorothea responded, looking out to where the Lady Selene raced. It seemed that Melina didn’t want to spend much time in one spot, however, quickly asking if Doro wanted to join her with the group of young men standing nearby. Truthfully, it was the last thing the girl wanted to do. She didn’t want to have much to do with men at all, especially ones like those. They clearly were in the sport of making fun and hurting others, so Dorothea wasn’t sure the two girls would be received with any sort of warm welcome.
“Well…” she began, thinking of an excuse. However, before she could get the rest of her thoughts out, Melina bounded towards the two, leaving Doro to choose what she wanted to do. She desperately wanted to run in the other direction, but felt that she couldn’t let Melina face them alone. Reluctantly, she trailed the other girl, arriving just in time to face their reactions.
Their tones and reactions were ones of dismissal and Dorothea felt the urge to pull Melina away. They could watch the rest of the race on their own. Yet, she didn’t know the girl well enough to know if she could convince her.
However, before Doro could even think of a way to get them to leave, Melina’s father approached. Dorothea had to admit that Fotios was intimidating and this instance was a perfect example of that. Had her father ever spoken to her like that, Dorothea was sure that she would have followed without a thought. His words were firm, leaving no room for argument. He said nothing to Doro, but gave her what seemed like a polite nod and invitation to join. As much as she was sure she didn’t want to be by this man, she was more sure that it would be better than with the prince and his friend. And perhaps she would still have a chance to make a friend out of the situation.
“Come on, Melina,” she said softly, indicating that she would like to go with.
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Dorothea had never been the best at making friends. She’d been exposed to precious few others outside of her family and her time at court had been limited. So, she knew it was a bit of a risk when she approached the other girl, but was also drawn by how the girl was watching the race so intently. Of course it was interesting, but Dorothea hadn’t expected to see others so interested in it. Especially a girl her own age.
The girl indicated that her cousin was the woman racing and Dorothea felt herself admiring them both by association. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find that Melina was a Leventi, but she just didn’t see the resemblance in the way that her father had described the family. Melina seemed…nicer?
“She’s quite spectacular,” Dorothea responded, looking out to where the Lady Selene raced. It seemed that Melina didn’t want to spend much time in one spot, however, quickly asking if Doro wanted to join her with the group of young men standing nearby. Truthfully, it was the last thing the girl wanted to do. She didn’t want to have much to do with men at all, especially ones like those. They clearly were in the sport of making fun and hurting others, so Dorothea wasn’t sure the two girls would be received with any sort of warm welcome.
“Well…” she began, thinking of an excuse. However, before she could get the rest of her thoughts out, Melina bounded towards the two, leaving Doro to choose what she wanted to do. She desperately wanted to run in the other direction, but felt that she couldn’t let Melina face them alone. Reluctantly, she trailed the other girl, arriving just in time to face their reactions.
Their tones and reactions were ones of dismissal and Dorothea felt the urge to pull Melina away. They could watch the rest of the race on their own. Yet, she didn’t know the girl well enough to know if she could convince her.
However, before Doro could even think of a way to get them to leave, Melina’s father approached. Dorothea had to admit that Fotios was intimidating and this instance was a perfect example of that. Had her father ever spoken to her like that, Dorothea was sure that she would have followed without a thought. His words were firm, leaving no room for argument. He said nothing to Doro, but gave her what seemed like a polite nod and invitation to join. As much as she was sure she didn’t want to be by this man, she was more sure that it would be better than with the prince and his friend. And perhaps she would still have a chance to make a friend out of the situation.
“Come on, Melina,” she said softly, indicating that she would like to go with.
Dorothea had never been the best at making friends. She’d been exposed to precious few others outside of her family and her time at court had been limited. So, she knew it was a bit of a risk when she approached the other girl, but was also drawn by how the girl was watching the race so intently. Of course it was interesting, but Dorothea hadn’t expected to see others so interested in it. Especially a girl her own age.
The girl indicated that her cousin was the woman racing and Dorothea felt herself admiring them both by association. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find that Melina was a Leventi, but she just didn’t see the resemblance in the way that her father had described the family. Melina seemed…nicer?
“She’s quite spectacular,” Dorothea responded, looking out to where the Lady Selene raced. It seemed that Melina didn’t want to spend much time in one spot, however, quickly asking if Doro wanted to join her with the group of young men standing nearby. Truthfully, it was the last thing the girl wanted to do. She didn’t want to have much to do with men at all, especially ones like those. They clearly were in the sport of making fun and hurting others, so Dorothea wasn’t sure the two girls would be received with any sort of warm welcome.
“Well…” she began, thinking of an excuse. However, before she could get the rest of her thoughts out, Melina bounded towards the two, leaving Doro to choose what she wanted to do. She desperately wanted to run in the other direction, but felt that she couldn’t let Melina face them alone. Reluctantly, she trailed the other girl, arriving just in time to face their reactions.
Their tones and reactions were ones of dismissal and Dorothea felt the urge to pull Melina away. They could watch the rest of the race on their own. Yet, she didn’t know the girl well enough to know if she could convince her.
However, before Doro could even think of a way to get them to leave, Melina’s father approached. Dorothea had to admit that Fotios was intimidating and this instance was a perfect example of that. Had her father ever spoken to her like that, Dorothea was sure that she would have followed without a thought. His words were firm, leaving no room for argument. He said nothing to Doro, but gave her what seemed like a polite nod and invitation to join. As much as she was sure she didn’t want to be by this man, she was more sure that it would be better than with the prince and his friend. And perhaps she would still have a chance to make a friend out of the situation.
“Come on, Melina,” she said softly, indicating that she would like to go with.
Melina had long wanted to have a conversation with one of the Mikaelidas men, but she had never been brave enough. She simply wanted to know if fantasy had any part in reality if royals and nobility could truly be gallant, noble, and true. She was too young to even think about making a match, but she at least wanted to meet some of the nobility, to be seen in their eyes, acknowledged briefly before she would make herself known in the courts. It didn’t help matters that the men were fairly good looking, however, she just wanted to meet the targets of her admiration. The boon of those men throwing rocks near and at her cousin Evangelina was a mixed blessing.
However, none of this was turning out the way she expected. In fact, it seemed that Achilleas was intent on rejecting her presence almost immediately, and Stephanos was no better. To get their names wrong? To reject them before they could even have a conversation? Melina simply wanted to run away from the chance of making any connections with nobility. They didn’t see her as anything other than a child, an annoying child, a waste of space. Not a Leventi heiress, and certainly not worthy of their time. Her expression showed hurt, yet she forced herself to stand her ground.
“I wanted to ask you guys something, it will only take a minute.” She didn’t even bother to correct the prince, deciding it would be better for him not to know her real name if he was this nonchalant. However, she wasn’t even thinking about asking why Achilleas threw a rock at her cousin, rather, she wanted to have a conversation. Fidgeting in place, she was about to open her mouth, when she heard her father speak.
Her features grew shadowed then, trying to hide devastation as her actions weren’t enough. Why did she think she could talk to either of the men? Why did she dream that she could one day become a princess if neither of them would see her as anything other than dirt on their sandals? So, she fell in line, only her eyes showing her expression of lingering sadness before bowed her head. “I’m sorry for bothering you, my lord, your highness.”
Footsteps brought her to her father’s side, allowing his hand to grip her shoulder. While she appreciated Dorothea’s presence, she couldn’t find herself that eager to watch the races anymore. All she could think about was how she hadn’t been brave enough to speak up, to have a conversation, and prove that she may be a child, but she was also a Lady Leventi.
“Yes, you are right, father. I was just hoping these men would show one of my cousins their respect as well instead of throwing a rock at her, but clearly they are not capable of such a thing, despite being royalty.” Those were her parting words as she forced herself to raise her head, extending a hand to Dorothea. “You are more than welcome to join us, please, I insist.” A smile grew more natural on her lips as she squeezed her peer’s hand as if trying to reassure her that she was all right.
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Melina had long wanted to have a conversation with one of the Mikaelidas men, but she had never been brave enough. She simply wanted to know if fantasy had any part in reality if royals and nobility could truly be gallant, noble, and true. She was too young to even think about making a match, but she at least wanted to meet some of the nobility, to be seen in their eyes, acknowledged briefly before she would make herself known in the courts. It didn’t help matters that the men were fairly good looking, however, she just wanted to meet the targets of her admiration. The boon of those men throwing rocks near and at her cousin Evangelina was a mixed blessing.
However, none of this was turning out the way she expected. In fact, it seemed that Achilleas was intent on rejecting her presence almost immediately, and Stephanos was no better. To get their names wrong? To reject them before they could even have a conversation? Melina simply wanted to run away from the chance of making any connections with nobility. They didn’t see her as anything other than a child, an annoying child, a waste of space. Not a Leventi heiress, and certainly not worthy of their time. Her expression showed hurt, yet she forced herself to stand her ground.
“I wanted to ask you guys something, it will only take a minute.” She didn’t even bother to correct the prince, deciding it would be better for him not to know her real name if he was this nonchalant. However, she wasn’t even thinking about asking why Achilleas threw a rock at her cousin, rather, she wanted to have a conversation. Fidgeting in place, she was about to open her mouth, when she heard her father speak.
Her features grew shadowed then, trying to hide devastation as her actions weren’t enough. Why did she think she could talk to either of the men? Why did she dream that she could one day become a princess if neither of them would see her as anything other than dirt on their sandals? So, she fell in line, only her eyes showing her expression of lingering sadness before bowed her head. “I’m sorry for bothering you, my lord, your highness.”
Footsteps brought her to her father’s side, allowing his hand to grip her shoulder. While she appreciated Dorothea’s presence, she couldn’t find herself that eager to watch the races anymore. All she could think about was how she hadn’t been brave enough to speak up, to have a conversation, and prove that she may be a child, but she was also a Lady Leventi.
“Yes, you are right, father. I was just hoping these men would show one of my cousins their respect as well instead of throwing a rock at her, but clearly they are not capable of such a thing, despite being royalty.” Those were her parting words as she forced herself to raise her head, extending a hand to Dorothea. “You are more than welcome to join us, please, I insist.” A smile grew more natural on her lips as she squeezed her peer’s hand as if trying to reassure her that she was all right.
Melina had long wanted to have a conversation with one of the Mikaelidas men, but she had never been brave enough. She simply wanted to know if fantasy had any part in reality if royals and nobility could truly be gallant, noble, and true. She was too young to even think about making a match, but she at least wanted to meet some of the nobility, to be seen in their eyes, acknowledged briefly before she would make herself known in the courts. It didn’t help matters that the men were fairly good looking, however, she just wanted to meet the targets of her admiration. The boon of those men throwing rocks near and at her cousin Evangelina was a mixed blessing.
However, none of this was turning out the way she expected. In fact, it seemed that Achilleas was intent on rejecting her presence almost immediately, and Stephanos was no better. To get their names wrong? To reject them before they could even have a conversation? Melina simply wanted to run away from the chance of making any connections with nobility. They didn’t see her as anything other than a child, an annoying child, a waste of space. Not a Leventi heiress, and certainly not worthy of their time. Her expression showed hurt, yet she forced herself to stand her ground.
“I wanted to ask you guys something, it will only take a minute.” She didn’t even bother to correct the prince, deciding it would be better for him not to know her real name if he was this nonchalant. However, she wasn’t even thinking about asking why Achilleas threw a rock at her cousin, rather, she wanted to have a conversation. Fidgeting in place, she was about to open her mouth, when she heard her father speak.
Her features grew shadowed then, trying to hide devastation as her actions weren’t enough. Why did she think she could talk to either of the men? Why did she dream that she could one day become a princess if neither of them would see her as anything other than dirt on their sandals? So, she fell in line, only her eyes showing her expression of lingering sadness before bowed her head. “I’m sorry for bothering you, my lord, your highness.”
Footsteps brought her to her father’s side, allowing his hand to grip her shoulder. While she appreciated Dorothea’s presence, she couldn’t find herself that eager to watch the races anymore. All she could think about was how she hadn’t been brave enough to speak up, to have a conversation, and prove that she may be a child, but she was also a Lady Leventi.
“Yes, you are right, father. I was just hoping these men would show one of my cousins their respect as well instead of throwing a rock at her, but clearly they are not capable of such a thing, despite being royalty.” Those were her parting words as she forced herself to raise her head, extending a hand to Dorothea. “You are more than welcome to join us, please, I insist.” A smile grew more natural on her lips as she squeezed her peer’s hand as if trying to reassure her that she was all right.
Fotios' expression didn't change when Melina spoke of her reasons for moving to speak with the prince and his cousin. His features displayed neither acceptance nor rejection of her logic for he saw no need. He had already made his opinion on her actions clear enough. Her reasoning or purse was not worthy of such direct attentions. What he could do, however, was ensure that the same mistake was not fallen upon again in the future.
"It is not a woman's place to correct a man's behaviour." Fotios stated. Such words were not spoken with a sneer or a derogatory tone of sexism but with the simple state of reality in the roles and occupations of gender. Women were no less in value than men; they just had different roles to play in life. And whilst it was a man's duty and responsibility to care for the women in his life - be they a wife, a sister or a daughter - it was not for women to do the same in reverse. That was not their calling nor their purpose.
"And royalty may do as they wish." He added, with a significance that remarked of just how inappropriate it had been for Melina to think herself an authority on appropriate decorum.
As the little group of three found their way to the dunes crest once more and were then able to witness the progressing end of the race, Fotios offered a rare moment of advice that was said in a forward direction; as if he were absent-mindedly speaking his thoughts rather than directing them towards his daughter specifically.
"If you wish for a moth to move in a particular direction, you do not try to shoo it with your hand. You become the flame that draws them of their own volition."
After several moments of quiet, as his eyes narrowed upon the progress of the race on the beach, Fotios reached up to remove his himation and with ruthless efficiency, wrapped it around Melina. He did not look at her, nor delicately drape it upon her person like a loving father might. He simply wrapped it around her bare arms as if she were foolish to not be wearing more layers herself and then turned to witness the race once more, his arms folding over his chest and his long, slim legs braced upon the sands.
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Fotios' expression didn't change when Melina spoke of her reasons for moving to speak with the prince and his cousin. His features displayed neither acceptance nor rejection of her logic for he saw no need. He had already made his opinion on her actions clear enough. Her reasoning or purse was not worthy of such direct attentions. What he could do, however, was ensure that the same mistake was not fallen upon again in the future.
"It is not a woman's place to correct a man's behaviour." Fotios stated. Such words were not spoken with a sneer or a derogatory tone of sexism but with the simple state of reality in the roles and occupations of gender. Women were no less in value than men; they just had different roles to play in life. And whilst it was a man's duty and responsibility to care for the women in his life - be they a wife, a sister or a daughter - it was not for women to do the same in reverse. That was not their calling nor their purpose.
"And royalty may do as they wish." He added, with a significance that remarked of just how inappropriate it had been for Melina to think herself an authority on appropriate decorum.
As the little group of three found their way to the dunes crest once more and were then able to witness the progressing end of the race, Fotios offered a rare moment of advice that was said in a forward direction; as if he were absent-mindedly speaking his thoughts rather than directing them towards his daughter specifically.
"If you wish for a moth to move in a particular direction, you do not try to shoo it with your hand. You become the flame that draws them of their own volition."
After several moments of quiet, as his eyes narrowed upon the progress of the race on the beach, Fotios reached up to remove his himation and with ruthless efficiency, wrapped it around Melina. He did not look at her, nor delicately drape it upon her person like a loving father might. He simply wrapped it around her bare arms as if she were foolish to not be wearing more layers herself and then turned to witness the race once more, his arms folding over his chest and his long, slim legs braced upon the sands.
Fotios' expression didn't change when Melina spoke of her reasons for moving to speak with the prince and his cousin. His features displayed neither acceptance nor rejection of her logic for he saw no need. He had already made his opinion on her actions clear enough. Her reasoning or purse was not worthy of such direct attentions. What he could do, however, was ensure that the same mistake was not fallen upon again in the future.
"It is not a woman's place to correct a man's behaviour." Fotios stated. Such words were not spoken with a sneer or a derogatory tone of sexism but with the simple state of reality in the roles and occupations of gender. Women were no less in value than men; they just had different roles to play in life. And whilst it was a man's duty and responsibility to care for the women in his life - be they a wife, a sister or a daughter - it was not for women to do the same in reverse. That was not their calling nor their purpose.
"And royalty may do as they wish." He added, with a significance that remarked of just how inappropriate it had been for Melina to think herself an authority on appropriate decorum.
As the little group of three found their way to the dunes crest once more and were then able to witness the progressing end of the race, Fotios offered a rare moment of advice that was said in a forward direction; as if he were absent-mindedly speaking his thoughts rather than directing them towards his daughter specifically.
"If you wish for a moth to move in a particular direction, you do not try to shoo it with your hand. You become the flame that draws them of their own volition."
After several moments of quiet, as his eyes narrowed upon the progress of the race on the beach, Fotios reached up to remove his himation and with ruthless efficiency, wrapped it around Melina. He did not look at her, nor delicately drape it upon her person like a loving father might. He simply wrapped it around her bare arms as if she were foolish to not be wearing more layers herself and then turned to witness the race once more, his arms folding over his chest and his long, slim legs braced upon the sands.
It was profoundly awkward, Dorothea realized, to be between Melina and her father at the moment. While she understood Melina’s reasoning for wanting to talk to the young men, she found herself oddly aligned with Fotios of Leventi. Perhaps less because of his reasoning, but more because of his ability to move them away from the men. If there was one thing that Dorothea wasn’t interested in, it was men. Her father believed that it would change, that she would like them more when she grew older. However, Dorothea knew better. She was certain she would remain uninterested. There was just something utterly unappealing about them and every time she spoke with them that was confirmed.
She followed the father and daughter pair, wondering if it would have been best for her to run off and rejoin her own family. However, it seemed that it was far too late for that now. To leave now would definitely appear rude and Dorothea knew that her father would be extremely disappointed in her. He would probably agree with her choice, but she knew he would never say that aloud. He would simply feign disappointment, leaving Doro with the impression of discipline without any of the disappointed feelings that came with it. It was a rather good system that they had – not one that appeared to be shared with Fotios and his daughter.
She listened to what he was saying without processing much of it – her eyes had strayed back to the race. She was happy when they settled down on the dunes where she could finally see the entire track once again. This was what she had originally been looking for. A place to watch the race and someone, perhaps even a friend, to watch the race with. She sat next to Melina with some space between them, giving her father enough room to drape his hand around her shoulder. Dorothea glanced at the girl, wondering what she was thinking. Surely she was disappointed, but what else? Doro imagined that she would feel a bit embarrassed if it was her father saying such things to her, but she couldn’t be sure. Gavriil had never done so.
Without thinking, Dorothea reached out and gave Melina’s hand a quick squeeze and shot her a reassuring smile. She wanted the other girl to know that she had a friend here, even though they had recently met. Her hand was gone as quickly as it came, but she hoped she had been able to pass along reassurances.
“Do you think the Lady Selene will win?” she asked, wanting to break some of the silence.
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It was profoundly awkward, Dorothea realized, to be between Melina and her father at the moment. While she understood Melina’s reasoning for wanting to talk to the young men, she found herself oddly aligned with Fotios of Leventi. Perhaps less because of his reasoning, but more because of his ability to move them away from the men. If there was one thing that Dorothea wasn’t interested in, it was men. Her father believed that it would change, that she would like them more when she grew older. However, Dorothea knew better. She was certain she would remain uninterested. There was just something utterly unappealing about them and every time she spoke with them that was confirmed.
She followed the father and daughter pair, wondering if it would have been best for her to run off and rejoin her own family. However, it seemed that it was far too late for that now. To leave now would definitely appear rude and Dorothea knew that her father would be extremely disappointed in her. He would probably agree with her choice, but she knew he would never say that aloud. He would simply feign disappointment, leaving Doro with the impression of discipline without any of the disappointed feelings that came with it. It was a rather good system that they had – not one that appeared to be shared with Fotios and his daughter.
She listened to what he was saying without processing much of it – her eyes had strayed back to the race. She was happy when they settled down on the dunes where she could finally see the entire track once again. This was what she had originally been looking for. A place to watch the race and someone, perhaps even a friend, to watch the race with. She sat next to Melina with some space between them, giving her father enough room to drape his hand around her shoulder. Dorothea glanced at the girl, wondering what she was thinking. Surely she was disappointed, but what else? Doro imagined that she would feel a bit embarrassed if it was her father saying such things to her, but she couldn’t be sure. Gavriil had never done so.
Without thinking, Dorothea reached out and gave Melina’s hand a quick squeeze and shot her a reassuring smile. She wanted the other girl to know that she had a friend here, even though they had recently met. Her hand was gone as quickly as it came, but she hoped she had been able to pass along reassurances.
“Do you think the Lady Selene will win?” she asked, wanting to break some of the silence.
It was profoundly awkward, Dorothea realized, to be between Melina and her father at the moment. While she understood Melina’s reasoning for wanting to talk to the young men, she found herself oddly aligned with Fotios of Leventi. Perhaps less because of his reasoning, but more because of his ability to move them away from the men. If there was one thing that Dorothea wasn’t interested in, it was men. Her father believed that it would change, that she would like them more when she grew older. However, Dorothea knew better. She was certain she would remain uninterested. There was just something utterly unappealing about them and every time she spoke with them that was confirmed.
She followed the father and daughter pair, wondering if it would have been best for her to run off and rejoin her own family. However, it seemed that it was far too late for that now. To leave now would definitely appear rude and Dorothea knew that her father would be extremely disappointed in her. He would probably agree with her choice, but she knew he would never say that aloud. He would simply feign disappointment, leaving Doro with the impression of discipline without any of the disappointed feelings that came with it. It was a rather good system that they had – not one that appeared to be shared with Fotios and his daughter.
She listened to what he was saying without processing much of it – her eyes had strayed back to the race. She was happy when they settled down on the dunes where she could finally see the entire track once again. This was what she had originally been looking for. A place to watch the race and someone, perhaps even a friend, to watch the race with. She sat next to Melina with some space between them, giving her father enough room to drape his hand around her shoulder. Dorothea glanced at the girl, wondering what she was thinking. Surely she was disappointed, but what else? Doro imagined that she would feel a bit embarrassed if it was her father saying such things to her, but she couldn’t be sure. Gavriil had never done so.
Without thinking, Dorothea reached out and gave Melina’s hand a quick squeeze and shot her a reassuring smile. She wanted the other girl to know that she had a friend here, even though they had recently met. Her hand was gone as quickly as it came, but she hoped she had been able to pass along reassurances.
“Do you think the Lady Selene will win?” she asked, wanting to break some of the silence.
It was moments such as these, moments where Melina stood up for herself, that her confidence plummeted through Fotios’ reprimands. Even if she was indeed in the wrong for trying to seek an explanation, nay an apology, from the nobility, her father’s words reminded her just how small her world was. How little she was able to do other than observe silently, and how she was not welcome to voice her opinions aloud. Even if her father meant kindly, Melina was not able to hide her crushed expression at his words, one that shifted to shame and resignation that had just started to show in her early teens.
"Yes, father. I understand completely. However, perhaps not in the way that he wanted her to understand. This was the start of when Melina stopped voicing her thoughts and eventually became more reserved. Already insecurity and anxiety was seeping into the young teen. And as she glanced back in the direction of where the royals gathered, Melina realized how different their worlds were. She was a fool for trying to garner a conversation, and maybe a friend. Foolishly believing that she would have a chance with a prince like her mother promised. Each step brought her closer to that saddened acceptance of a reality that simply did not have her in it.
However, even as she found wisdom in her father’s words, she didn’t think they were meant for her. For what could she, a middle child of a lesser Leventi branch offer? Still, she hoped one day that she could be someone’s flame of attraction. Perhaps those words were better suited for their companion Dorothea. As they approached the crest of the dunes, Melina gaze a small smile as she watched the racers along the track, only to have that expression marred by another frown of resignation as a himation covered her. It was as if she constantly brought her father shame that he longed for her to disappear. And at that moment, she genuinely wished she did. She had nothing to bring to the table, although she might have gained a friend in Dorothea. At least that young teen didn’t seem to think badly of her as much as the royals did.
Even as anxiety filled her form, Melina felt the reassuring touch of her newly found friend and her smile returned. Even if her father was disappointed in her for being one of the failure spawn, she could at least kindle a friendship with this young woman. So, as she looked away from the race, feeling her father’s arm resting along her shoulder, she relaxed slightly. “I hope so. I think it would be amazing if my cousin won. Can you imagine? She’s going against formidable foes. It would be an honor for her to win.” Squinting at the tanner brunette, she found herself able to relax, at least a bit more now that the devastation cleared away. “Who do you think will win?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was moments such as these, moments where Melina stood up for herself, that her confidence plummeted through Fotios’ reprimands. Even if she was indeed in the wrong for trying to seek an explanation, nay an apology, from the nobility, her father’s words reminded her just how small her world was. How little she was able to do other than observe silently, and how she was not welcome to voice her opinions aloud. Even if her father meant kindly, Melina was not able to hide her crushed expression at his words, one that shifted to shame and resignation that had just started to show in her early teens.
"Yes, father. I understand completely. However, perhaps not in the way that he wanted her to understand. This was the start of when Melina stopped voicing her thoughts and eventually became more reserved. Already insecurity and anxiety was seeping into the young teen. And as she glanced back in the direction of where the royals gathered, Melina realized how different their worlds were. She was a fool for trying to garner a conversation, and maybe a friend. Foolishly believing that she would have a chance with a prince like her mother promised. Each step brought her closer to that saddened acceptance of a reality that simply did not have her in it.
However, even as she found wisdom in her father’s words, she didn’t think they were meant for her. For what could she, a middle child of a lesser Leventi branch offer? Still, she hoped one day that she could be someone’s flame of attraction. Perhaps those words were better suited for their companion Dorothea. As they approached the crest of the dunes, Melina gaze a small smile as she watched the racers along the track, only to have that expression marred by another frown of resignation as a himation covered her. It was as if she constantly brought her father shame that he longed for her to disappear. And at that moment, she genuinely wished she did. She had nothing to bring to the table, although she might have gained a friend in Dorothea. At least that young teen didn’t seem to think badly of her as much as the royals did.
Even as anxiety filled her form, Melina felt the reassuring touch of her newly found friend and her smile returned. Even if her father was disappointed in her for being one of the failure spawn, she could at least kindle a friendship with this young woman. So, as she looked away from the race, feeling her father’s arm resting along her shoulder, she relaxed slightly. “I hope so. I think it would be amazing if my cousin won. Can you imagine? She’s going against formidable foes. It would be an honor for her to win.” Squinting at the tanner brunette, she found herself able to relax, at least a bit more now that the devastation cleared away. “Who do you think will win?”
It was moments such as these, moments where Melina stood up for herself, that her confidence plummeted through Fotios’ reprimands. Even if she was indeed in the wrong for trying to seek an explanation, nay an apology, from the nobility, her father’s words reminded her just how small her world was. How little she was able to do other than observe silently, and how she was not welcome to voice her opinions aloud. Even if her father meant kindly, Melina was not able to hide her crushed expression at his words, one that shifted to shame and resignation that had just started to show in her early teens.
"Yes, father. I understand completely. However, perhaps not in the way that he wanted her to understand. This was the start of when Melina stopped voicing her thoughts and eventually became more reserved. Already insecurity and anxiety was seeping into the young teen. And as she glanced back in the direction of where the royals gathered, Melina realized how different their worlds were. She was a fool for trying to garner a conversation, and maybe a friend. Foolishly believing that she would have a chance with a prince like her mother promised. Each step brought her closer to that saddened acceptance of a reality that simply did not have her in it.
However, even as she found wisdom in her father’s words, she didn’t think they were meant for her. For what could she, a middle child of a lesser Leventi branch offer? Still, she hoped one day that she could be someone’s flame of attraction. Perhaps those words were better suited for their companion Dorothea. As they approached the crest of the dunes, Melina gaze a small smile as she watched the racers along the track, only to have that expression marred by another frown of resignation as a himation covered her. It was as if she constantly brought her father shame that he longed for her to disappear. And at that moment, she genuinely wished she did. She had nothing to bring to the table, although she might have gained a friend in Dorothea. At least that young teen didn’t seem to think badly of her as much as the royals did.
Even as anxiety filled her form, Melina felt the reassuring touch of her newly found friend and her smile returned. Even if her father was disappointed in her for being one of the failure spawn, she could at least kindle a friendship with this young woman. So, as she looked away from the race, feeling her father’s arm resting along her shoulder, she relaxed slightly. “I hope so. I think it would be amazing if my cousin won. Can you imagine? She’s going against formidable foes. It would be an honor for her to win.” Squinting at the tanner brunette, she found herself able to relax, at least a bit more now that the devastation cleared away. “Who do you think will win?”