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He had not wanted to do it. All the way along, Achilleas had been careful to ensure that his...involvement with Briseis had not impacted her work or position. He would not let her linger overlong in his bed, not shirk her duties in the assumption that because she was with him it would be excused. Nor had he ever expected her to drop things on his behalf, or be entirely at his beck and call.
He had been so careful, and that was why it seemed such a blow now, what he was about to do. But Achilleas could see no other way, not after the awkwardness of the dinner he had endured, nor the discomfort of the weeks preceding it. Theodora would be his wife in a matter of days, and it was untenable to have his past lover right under her nose, or right under his, as he was coming to see.
And so the eldest of Irakles’ sons was doing the cowardly thing. He would seek out Meena and ask her to find some other employ for Briseis, somewhere away from the archontiko where he would not be faced with her mournful stares or hurt glances whenever he was in residence. Somewhere he would not have to worry about her saying something to Theodora that might give offence or enable what he had explicitly been instructed not to allow to happen, the muddying of his own reputation.
It took some swallowing his pride even to consider such a thing, for there was little love lost between the Lord and his father’s Mistress. Achilleas tolerated her presence, and that of her daughters - his half sisters- because he had to, but he avoided them as much as possible, and so he knew it would be a surprise when he sought her out. It would raise her suspicions immediately ; she would know he wanted something.
With a grim sort of sigh, Achilleas forced himself to follow through with his intent. He had waited to be sure his father had returned to the Palati, timed it for when he knew Meena was likely to be in the archontiko, and hopefully alone. He would rather noone witness him having to lower himself to ask something of the jumped up little madam who had somehow stolen a seat at the Mikaelidas table.
Such thoughts were not making his task any easier, but Achilleas found them easier to focus on that the guilt at how he was betraying Briseis. She had done little to deserve it, other than becoming too attached, and that he should have spotted long before now. The man ran a hand through his dark hair before he gave a knock on the door to the sun room where he knew his father’s mistress liked to take her mornings.
Achilleas did not wait for permission to enter, he could not bear to, not from the woman the same age as himself and with no social standing of her own to lay claim to. Instead, he grit his teeth a moment before adopting a more neutral expression and stepping inside.
“Meena. I wondered if I might trouble you a moment with a small matter pertaining to the household staff”
It was direct, but he knew no other way to address the woman, nor he could bring himself to sugar coat his words. With any luck, she would oblige him without him needing to.
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He had not wanted to do it. All the way along, Achilleas had been careful to ensure that his...involvement with Briseis had not impacted her work or position. He would not let her linger overlong in his bed, not shirk her duties in the assumption that because she was with him it would be excused. Nor had he ever expected her to drop things on his behalf, or be entirely at his beck and call.
He had been so careful, and that was why it seemed such a blow now, what he was about to do. But Achilleas could see no other way, not after the awkwardness of the dinner he had endured, nor the discomfort of the weeks preceding it. Theodora would be his wife in a matter of days, and it was untenable to have his past lover right under her nose, or right under his, as he was coming to see.
And so the eldest of Irakles’ sons was doing the cowardly thing. He would seek out Meena and ask her to find some other employ for Briseis, somewhere away from the archontiko where he would not be faced with her mournful stares or hurt glances whenever he was in residence. Somewhere he would not have to worry about her saying something to Theodora that might give offence or enable what he had explicitly been instructed not to allow to happen, the muddying of his own reputation.
It took some swallowing his pride even to consider such a thing, for there was little love lost between the Lord and his father’s Mistress. Achilleas tolerated her presence, and that of her daughters - his half sisters- because he had to, but he avoided them as much as possible, and so he knew it would be a surprise when he sought her out. It would raise her suspicions immediately ; she would know he wanted something.
With a grim sort of sigh, Achilleas forced himself to follow through with his intent. He had waited to be sure his father had returned to the Palati, timed it for when he knew Meena was likely to be in the archontiko, and hopefully alone. He would rather noone witness him having to lower himself to ask something of the jumped up little madam who had somehow stolen a seat at the Mikaelidas table.
Such thoughts were not making his task any easier, but Achilleas found them easier to focus on that the guilt at how he was betraying Briseis. She had done little to deserve it, other than becoming too attached, and that he should have spotted long before now. The man ran a hand through his dark hair before he gave a knock on the door to the sun room where he knew his father’s mistress liked to take her mornings.
Achilleas did not wait for permission to enter, he could not bear to, not from the woman the same age as himself and with no social standing of her own to lay claim to. Instead, he grit his teeth a moment before adopting a more neutral expression and stepping inside.
“Meena. I wondered if I might trouble you a moment with a small matter pertaining to the household staff”
It was direct, but he knew no other way to address the woman, nor he could bring himself to sugar coat his words. With any luck, she would oblige him without him needing to.
He had not wanted to do it. All the way along, Achilleas had been careful to ensure that his...involvement with Briseis had not impacted her work or position. He would not let her linger overlong in his bed, not shirk her duties in the assumption that because she was with him it would be excused. Nor had he ever expected her to drop things on his behalf, or be entirely at his beck and call.
He had been so careful, and that was why it seemed such a blow now, what he was about to do. But Achilleas could see no other way, not after the awkwardness of the dinner he had endured, nor the discomfort of the weeks preceding it. Theodora would be his wife in a matter of days, and it was untenable to have his past lover right under her nose, or right under his, as he was coming to see.
And so the eldest of Irakles’ sons was doing the cowardly thing. He would seek out Meena and ask her to find some other employ for Briseis, somewhere away from the archontiko where he would not be faced with her mournful stares or hurt glances whenever he was in residence. Somewhere he would not have to worry about her saying something to Theodora that might give offence or enable what he had explicitly been instructed not to allow to happen, the muddying of his own reputation.
It took some swallowing his pride even to consider such a thing, for there was little love lost between the Lord and his father’s Mistress. Achilleas tolerated her presence, and that of her daughters - his half sisters- because he had to, but he avoided them as much as possible, and so he knew it would be a surprise when he sought her out. It would raise her suspicions immediately ; she would know he wanted something.
With a grim sort of sigh, Achilleas forced himself to follow through with his intent. He had waited to be sure his father had returned to the Palati, timed it for when he knew Meena was likely to be in the archontiko, and hopefully alone. He would rather noone witness him having to lower himself to ask something of the jumped up little madam who had somehow stolen a seat at the Mikaelidas table.
Such thoughts were not making his task any easier, but Achilleas found them easier to focus on that the guilt at how he was betraying Briseis. She had done little to deserve it, other than becoming too attached, and that he should have spotted long before now. The man ran a hand through his dark hair before he gave a knock on the door to the sun room where he knew his father’s mistress liked to take her mornings.
Achilleas did not wait for permission to enter, he could not bear to, not from the woman the same age as himself and with no social standing of her own to lay claim to. Instead, he grit his teeth a moment before adopting a more neutral expression and stepping inside.
“Meena. I wondered if I might trouble you a moment with a small matter pertaining to the household staff”
It was direct, but he knew no other way to address the woman, nor he could bring himself to sugar coat his words. With any luck, she would oblige him without him needing to.
Meena savored the cool breeze which flowed through the open window into the sun room. The harbor air touched her naked skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Soft, chestnut waves cascaded freely down her back, a few strands catching in the wind. She was sitting upright in a plush kline, cream silken sheets bundled up around her waist and spilling onto the floor. Her back was towards the doorway and her face tipped upwards to the beaming sun, soaking in the warmth.
Lashes fluttered open, revealing fiery, amber orbs that flickered with a sense of pleasure. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips as her hands trailed abstractedly along her bare skin and over the curve of her waist. Her face radiated with pure bliss and the inkling of something sensual. She absent-mindedly played with the loose tendrils framing her face as her mind replayed that morning’s events.
Long before dawn, Irakles had graced her bed among other places. Over the past few days, he’d been elusive, keeping himself occupied at the palati. Though, she was a jealous lover – always covetous of his attention – she'd long ago grown accustomed to his evasive ways of coming and going. She just knew to keep herself ready for whenever he called. And needless to say, the series of events that had recently occurred had left him for a better lack of words – tense. So, the vixen didn’t complain whenever he slipped away from the palace to find solace in her arms. Her only regret was that she couldn’t sway him to stay longer, but she also wasn’t opposed to a quiet morning alone.
Abruptly pulled from her thoughts, Meena’s body stilled whenever her door flung open. A glower formed across her delicate eyebrows and indignation flared up within her at such blatant disrespect. No servant – nor courtier – would dare offend her by such stupid actions. Yet, her features smoothed into a neutral state whenever Irakles’ eldest broke her peaceful silence. Odd. She couldn’t recall a time that he’d approached her so directly, especially in Irakles’ wing. It was not a secret among them that Meena held claim to his side and as long as she could remember his sons tended to stray away. Which then brought question into her mind as to why Achilleas could be there. Still, a righteous fury licked through her at his crass manners, but she kept her gaze cool when she peeked back over her shoulder to meet his own. “I assume this is of dire importance as you’ve entered so intrusively.” Her words were thinly veiled over her anger, not sparing even her lover’s son.
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Meena savored the cool breeze which flowed through the open window into the sun room. The harbor air touched her naked skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Soft, chestnut waves cascaded freely down her back, a few strands catching in the wind. She was sitting upright in a plush kline, cream silken sheets bundled up around her waist and spilling onto the floor. Her back was towards the doorway and her face tipped upwards to the beaming sun, soaking in the warmth.
Lashes fluttered open, revealing fiery, amber orbs that flickered with a sense of pleasure. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips as her hands trailed abstractedly along her bare skin and over the curve of her waist. Her face radiated with pure bliss and the inkling of something sensual. She absent-mindedly played with the loose tendrils framing her face as her mind replayed that morning’s events.
Long before dawn, Irakles had graced her bed among other places. Over the past few days, he’d been elusive, keeping himself occupied at the palati. Though, she was a jealous lover – always covetous of his attention – she'd long ago grown accustomed to his evasive ways of coming and going. She just knew to keep herself ready for whenever he called. And needless to say, the series of events that had recently occurred had left him for a better lack of words – tense. So, the vixen didn’t complain whenever he slipped away from the palace to find solace in her arms. Her only regret was that she couldn’t sway him to stay longer, but she also wasn’t opposed to a quiet morning alone.
Abruptly pulled from her thoughts, Meena’s body stilled whenever her door flung open. A glower formed across her delicate eyebrows and indignation flared up within her at such blatant disrespect. No servant – nor courtier – would dare offend her by such stupid actions. Yet, her features smoothed into a neutral state whenever Irakles’ eldest broke her peaceful silence. Odd. She couldn’t recall a time that he’d approached her so directly, especially in Irakles’ wing. It was not a secret among them that Meena held claim to his side and as long as she could remember his sons tended to stray away. Which then brought question into her mind as to why Achilleas could be there. Still, a righteous fury licked through her at his crass manners, but she kept her gaze cool when she peeked back over her shoulder to meet his own. “I assume this is of dire importance as you’ve entered so intrusively.” Her words were thinly veiled over her anger, not sparing even her lover’s son.
Meena savored the cool breeze which flowed through the open window into the sun room. The harbor air touched her naked skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Soft, chestnut waves cascaded freely down her back, a few strands catching in the wind. She was sitting upright in a plush kline, cream silken sheets bundled up around her waist and spilling onto the floor. Her back was towards the doorway and her face tipped upwards to the beaming sun, soaking in the warmth.
Lashes fluttered open, revealing fiery, amber orbs that flickered with a sense of pleasure. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips as her hands trailed abstractedly along her bare skin and over the curve of her waist. Her face radiated with pure bliss and the inkling of something sensual. She absent-mindedly played with the loose tendrils framing her face as her mind replayed that morning’s events.
Long before dawn, Irakles had graced her bed among other places. Over the past few days, he’d been elusive, keeping himself occupied at the palati. Though, she was a jealous lover – always covetous of his attention – she'd long ago grown accustomed to his evasive ways of coming and going. She just knew to keep herself ready for whenever he called. And needless to say, the series of events that had recently occurred had left him for a better lack of words – tense. So, the vixen didn’t complain whenever he slipped away from the palace to find solace in her arms. Her only regret was that she couldn’t sway him to stay longer, but she also wasn’t opposed to a quiet morning alone.
Abruptly pulled from her thoughts, Meena’s body stilled whenever her door flung open. A glower formed across her delicate eyebrows and indignation flared up within her at such blatant disrespect. No servant – nor courtier – would dare offend her by such stupid actions. Yet, her features smoothed into a neutral state whenever Irakles’ eldest broke her peaceful silence. Odd. She couldn’t recall a time that he’d approached her so directly, especially in Irakles’ wing. It was not a secret among them that Meena held claim to his side and as long as she could remember his sons tended to stray away. Which then brought question into her mind as to why Achilleas could be there. Still, a righteous fury licked through her at his crass manners, but she kept her gaze cool when she peeked back over her shoulder to meet his own. “I assume this is of dire importance as you’ve entered so intrusively.” Her words were thinly veiled over her anger, not sparing even her lover’s son.
“....a small matter pertaining to the household staff….”
The words died a death on his lips as the Lord stepped across the threshold and found the target of his question. Blue eyes widened as they took in the very bare expanse of skin and pronounced lack of attire presented to him.
“ FUCK” It was an expletive that would not usually have escaped in front of a lady, but then Meena was no lady, and it slipped out with no chance of him preventing it. Barely had his eyes alighted upon the woman and Achilleas had spun away, facing the wall rather than her, palm extended behind him as if he might fend off the vision.
His outrage did not take into account the fact that he had rather intruded on Meena’s space, but Achilleas was not thinking logically then. He was trying very hard not to think about why his father’s mistress was lounging around naked, and instead focusing on how he was going to mitigate the situation.
He had not even considered that she would not be clothed, and in his horror had turned to leave when she addressed him. Achilleas was then so shocked that she could be so blase about it that he forgot why he was facing toward the door as he turned to spit out “By the GODS, put some clothes on!” And then he realised his mistake and blinked, because aside from the fact that she was some trollop who had displaced his mother, Meena was still a woman, and an attractive one at that. The thought burned him even he became conscious of it, and Achilleas twisted away again, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
“Forgive me the intrusion.” He bit out sharply, breathing through his nose. “ When you are decent perhaps we can talk”
The elder son of her lover, her contemporary in age if nothing else, stalked back out of the room and into the hallway, where he scrubbed a hand over his face.
What in Hades name had just happened? Achilleas looked around, a little lost. Whatever preparation he had done in anticipation of speaking with Meena regarding Briseis had fallen by the wayside, and the man could only try and pace off his agitation as he waited for the woman to clothe herself and come to him. Would she even? He retreated to the sitting room at the back of the house and stood by the window, the line of his shoulders tight with tension, his arms folded across his chest.
Away from the immediacy of the situation, Achilleas could better see his own fault in the matter, but still he seethed in the knowledge that he had knocked. He had knocked and she had not even called out a warning, and now he had unwittingly barged in upon his father’s mistress wearing little more than a bedsheet. How he could not wait to be back in Euttica. Away from this house and his father and Meena.
But as his shock slowly receded, so with it did his indignation. Emiolios would die laughing, Achilleas thought, and he vowed then that he would not tell his brother lest he never hear the end of it. Slightly less humorous was the notion that the woman might tell his father of it, and Achilleas did not think he could cope with speaking with the man about her. Mostly, he managed to ignore the thorn in their family’s side that was Meena, but only by avoiding talk of her. If Irakles chose to use this as another thing to criticize him over then he could not be confident in holding his tongue.
Almost he considered abandoning the whole idea of speaking to the woman, but Achilleas blew out a breath. He needed to resolve the mess he had unthinkingly created for himself, and this seemed the only way. He would apologise -through his teeth- and then ask Meena to do this thing.
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“....a small matter pertaining to the household staff….”
The words died a death on his lips as the Lord stepped across the threshold and found the target of his question. Blue eyes widened as they took in the very bare expanse of skin and pronounced lack of attire presented to him.
“ FUCK” It was an expletive that would not usually have escaped in front of a lady, but then Meena was no lady, and it slipped out with no chance of him preventing it. Barely had his eyes alighted upon the woman and Achilleas had spun away, facing the wall rather than her, palm extended behind him as if he might fend off the vision.
His outrage did not take into account the fact that he had rather intruded on Meena’s space, but Achilleas was not thinking logically then. He was trying very hard not to think about why his father’s mistress was lounging around naked, and instead focusing on how he was going to mitigate the situation.
He had not even considered that she would not be clothed, and in his horror had turned to leave when she addressed him. Achilleas was then so shocked that she could be so blase about it that he forgot why he was facing toward the door as he turned to spit out “By the GODS, put some clothes on!” And then he realised his mistake and blinked, because aside from the fact that she was some trollop who had displaced his mother, Meena was still a woman, and an attractive one at that. The thought burned him even he became conscious of it, and Achilleas twisted away again, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
“Forgive me the intrusion.” He bit out sharply, breathing through his nose. “ When you are decent perhaps we can talk”
The elder son of her lover, her contemporary in age if nothing else, stalked back out of the room and into the hallway, where he scrubbed a hand over his face.
What in Hades name had just happened? Achilleas looked around, a little lost. Whatever preparation he had done in anticipation of speaking with Meena regarding Briseis had fallen by the wayside, and the man could only try and pace off his agitation as he waited for the woman to clothe herself and come to him. Would she even? He retreated to the sitting room at the back of the house and stood by the window, the line of his shoulders tight with tension, his arms folded across his chest.
Away from the immediacy of the situation, Achilleas could better see his own fault in the matter, but still he seethed in the knowledge that he had knocked. He had knocked and she had not even called out a warning, and now he had unwittingly barged in upon his father’s mistress wearing little more than a bedsheet. How he could not wait to be back in Euttica. Away from this house and his father and Meena.
But as his shock slowly receded, so with it did his indignation. Emiolios would die laughing, Achilleas thought, and he vowed then that he would not tell his brother lest he never hear the end of it. Slightly less humorous was the notion that the woman might tell his father of it, and Achilleas did not think he could cope with speaking with the man about her. Mostly, he managed to ignore the thorn in their family’s side that was Meena, but only by avoiding talk of her. If Irakles chose to use this as another thing to criticize him over then he could not be confident in holding his tongue.
Almost he considered abandoning the whole idea of speaking to the woman, but Achilleas blew out a breath. He needed to resolve the mess he had unthinkingly created for himself, and this seemed the only way. He would apologise -through his teeth- and then ask Meena to do this thing.
“....a small matter pertaining to the household staff….”
The words died a death on his lips as the Lord stepped across the threshold and found the target of his question. Blue eyes widened as they took in the very bare expanse of skin and pronounced lack of attire presented to him.
“ FUCK” It was an expletive that would not usually have escaped in front of a lady, but then Meena was no lady, and it slipped out with no chance of him preventing it. Barely had his eyes alighted upon the woman and Achilleas had spun away, facing the wall rather than her, palm extended behind him as if he might fend off the vision.
His outrage did not take into account the fact that he had rather intruded on Meena’s space, but Achilleas was not thinking logically then. He was trying very hard not to think about why his father’s mistress was lounging around naked, and instead focusing on how he was going to mitigate the situation.
He had not even considered that she would not be clothed, and in his horror had turned to leave when she addressed him. Achilleas was then so shocked that she could be so blase about it that he forgot why he was facing toward the door as he turned to spit out “By the GODS, put some clothes on!” And then he realised his mistake and blinked, because aside from the fact that she was some trollop who had displaced his mother, Meena was still a woman, and an attractive one at that. The thought burned him even he became conscious of it, and Achilleas twisted away again, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
“Forgive me the intrusion.” He bit out sharply, breathing through his nose. “ When you are decent perhaps we can talk”
The elder son of her lover, her contemporary in age if nothing else, stalked back out of the room and into the hallway, where he scrubbed a hand over his face.
What in Hades name had just happened? Achilleas looked around, a little lost. Whatever preparation he had done in anticipation of speaking with Meena regarding Briseis had fallen by the wayside, and the man could only try and pace off his agitation as he waited for the woman to clothe herself and come to him. Would she even? He retreated to the sitting room at the back of the house and stood by the window, the line of his shoulders tight with tension, his arms folded across his chest.
Away from the immediacy of the situation, Achilleas could better see his own fault in the matter, but still he seethed in the knowledge that he had knocked. He had knocked and she had not even called out a warning, and now he had unwittingly barged in upon his father’s mistress wearing little more than a bedsheet. How he could not wait to be back in Euttica. Away from this house and his father and Meena.
But as his shock slowly receded, so with it did his indignation. Emiolios would die laughing, Achilleas thought, and he vowed then that he would not tell his brother lest he never hear the end of it. Slightly less humorous was the notion that the woman might tell his father of it, and Achilleas did not think he could cope with speaking with the man about her. Mostly, he managed to ignore the thorn in their family’s side that was Meena, but only by avoiding talk of her. If Irakles chose to use this as another thing to criticize him over then he could not be confident in holding his tongue.
Almost he considered abandoning the whole idea of speaking to the woman, but Achilleas blew out a breath. He needed to resolve the mess he had unthinkingly created for himself, and this seemed the only way. He would apologise -through his teeth- and then ask Meena to do this thing.
Meena’s icy glare never left Achilleas as the man abruptly descended into a state of mental chaos, losing all thread of composure. By the way he was reacting Meena almost wondered if he’d ever truly laid eyes on a woman before, but she bit her tongue against any snide remarks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatic aversion, she kept her cool gaze whilst he prattled on like a twit.
This is the Commander of the Taengean armies? She inwardly scorned as he flailed about like a squawking hen. She couldn’t help but have doubt in his abilities. However, her apathetic eyes soon darkened into unbridled rage when he had the audacity to turn his accusations against her, as if this was somehow her fault.
“By the GODS, put some clothes on!” He turned on her, his frantic eyes glaring. Yet, no sooner than the words left his mouth, a realization dawned on him and he was fast stumbling over some ill-attempted apology before skulking out of the room.
Forgive him? Meena’s frame stiffened against his cutting words and her rage shaken hands balled up into fists, the nails digging into her flesh. Though he certainly seemed ignorant, Meena knew that he was no fool.
As if he’d fully expected her to be there, he’d entered without the slightest regard, something that Meena knew he would have afforded anyone else. But, not her. Though, the words were left unspoken between them, she would be foolish to think that he thought her other than a whore in his home; ergo – undeserving of even her own fragment of privacy and respect. Such actions would have never been permitted by Irakles had he been there. But, Meena couldn’t help but believe that Achilleas must have known that and that thought alone was cause enough for her to resent him. The indignation that she felt clawed its way through her and threatened to tear through the stoic barrier.
Prying her fingers apart, her palms stung and she stiffly rose from the kline, the silken sheets sliding to the cold floor. Her chin tilted up in pride and she gracefully approached the door. Unlike Achilleas, her daughters and the rest of the Mikaelidas household knew well to keep their distance, especially on days that she entertained Irakles. So, beseeming the whore that she was, she stepped over the threshold and out into the corridor completely bare. A smug grin cracked through her sullenly attractive veneer as she sashayed her way down the hall, her dainty stride effortless, to her chamber to dress.
Out of spite, Meena was deliberate in dressing and sparing with her time. Whenever she finally emerged from her quarters an ivory chiton clung to her frame. Layered elegantly over it was a lavender himation, the light hue complimenting to her fair olive complexion. The fabric was held in place by golden fibulae, formed like Mikaelidas lions, which were fastened at each shoulder – a mere reminder to Achilleas of her place whether he liked it or not. A simple, silver necklace rested across her breastbone and she wore an array of silver and golden bangles along each wrist. Her long, dark waves were swept back into a braid with glittering, glass beads sewn in. Her apparel wasn’t by any means ornate. But, it was far more luxurious than what a woman such as herself would ever be expected to wear. To hell with that.
When she entered the sitting room, her keen, amber orbs swept across the perimeter before landing on Achilleas as he peered out the window. “Why have you come here?” She asked coolly, blatantly skipping all forms of appropriate address. A glower pinched her delicate features and she did not breach the space between her and the lord. It wasn’t that he presented a threat, but rather she couldn’t dispel her innermost sense of having been violated. Of course, she would never express those feelings, opting instead for a neutral tone and a well-worn facade. Even then, it would be a lie to say that she was entirely shameful for having been seen.
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Meena’s icy glare never left Achilleas as the man abruptly descended into a state of mental chaos, losing all thread of composure. By the way he was reacting Meena almost wondered if he’d ever truly laid eyes on a woman before, but she bit her tongue against any snide remarks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatic aversion, she kept her cool gaze whilst he prattled on like a twit.
This is the Commander of the Taengean armies? She inwardly scorned as he flailed about like a squawking hen. She couldn’t help but have doubt in his abilities. However, her apathetic eyes soon darkened into unbridled rage when he had the audacity to turn his accusations against her, as if this was somehow her fault.
“By the GODS, put some clothes on!” He turned on her, his frantic eyes glaring. Yet, no sooner than the words left his mouth, a realization dawned on him and he was fast stumbling over some ill-attempted apology before skulking out of the room.
Forgive him? Meena’s frame stiffened against his cutting words and her rage shaken hands balled up into fists, the nails digging into her flesh. Though he certainly seemed ignorant, Meena knew that he was no fool.
As if he’d fully expected her to be there, he’d entered without the slightest regard, something that Meena knew he would have afforded anyone else. But, not her. Though, the words were left unspoken between them, she would be foolish to think that he thought her other than a whore in his home; ergo – undeserving of even her own fragment of privacy and respect. Such actions would have never been permitted by Irakles had he been there. But, Meena couldn’t help but believe that Achilleas must have known that and that thought alone was cause enough for her to resent him. The indignation that she felt clawed its way through her and threatened to tear through the stoic barrier.
Prying her fingers apart, her palms stung and she stiffly rose from the kline, the silken sheets sliding to the cold floor. Her chin tilted up in pride and she gracefully approached the door. Unlike Achilleas, her daughters and the rest of the Mikaelidas household knew well to keep their distance, especially on days that she entertained Irakles. So, beseeming the whore that she was, she stepped over the threshold and out into the corridor completely bare. A smug grin cracked through her sullenly attractive veneer as she sashayed her way down the hall, her dainty stride effortless, to her chamber to dress.
Out of spite, Meena was deliberate in dressing and sparing with her time. Whenever she finally emerged from her quarters an ivory chiton clung to her frame. Layered elegantly over it was a lavender himation, the light hue complimenting to her fair olive complexion. The fabric was held in place by golden fibulae, formed like Mikaelidas lions, which were fastened at each shoulder – a mere reminder to Achilleas of her place whether he liked it or not. A simple, silver necklace rested across her breastbone and she wore an array of silver and golden bangles along each wrist. Her long, dark waves were swept back into a braid with glittering, glass beads sewn in. Her apparel wasn’t by any means ornate. But, it was far more luxurious than what a woman such as herself would ever be expected to wear. To hell with that.
When she entered the sitting room, her keen, amber orbs swept across the perimeter before landing on Achilleas as he peered out the window. “Why have you come here?” She asked coolly, blatantly skipping all forms of appropriate address. A glower pinched her delicate features and she did not breach the space between her and the lord. It wasn’t that he presented a threat, but rather she couldn’t dispel her innermost sense of having been violated. Of course, she would never express those feelings, opting instead for a neutral tone and a well-worn facade. Even then, it would be a lie to say that she was entirely shameful for having been seen.
Meena’s icy glare never left Achilleas as the man abruptly descended into a state of mental chaos, losing all thread of composure. By the way he was reacting Meena almost wondered if he’d ever truly laid eyes on a woman before, but she bit her tongue against any snide remarks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatic aversion, she kept her cool gaze whilst he prattled on like a twit.
This is the Commander of the Taengean armies? She inwardly scorned as he flailed about like a squawking hen. She couldn’t help but have doubt in his abilities. However, her apathetic eyes soon darkened into unbridled rage when he had the audacity to turn his accusations against her, as if this was somehow her fault.
“By the GODS, put some clothes on!” He turned on her, his frantic eyes glaring. Yet, no sooner than the words left his mouth, a realization dawned on him and he was fast stumbling over some ill-attempted apology before skulking out of the room.
Forgive him? Meena’s frame stiffened against his cutting words and her rage shaken hands balled up into fists, the nails digging into her flesh. Though he certainly seemed ignorant, Meena knew that he was no fool.
As if he’d fully expected her to be there, he’d entered without the slightest regard, something that Meena knew he would have afforded anyone else. But, not her. Though, the words were left unspoken between them, she would be foolish to think that he thought her other than a whore in his home; ergo – undeserving of even her own fragment of privacy and respect. Such actions would have never been permitted by Irakles had he been there. But, Meena couldn’t help but believe that Achilleas must have known that and that thought alone was cause enough for her to resent him. The indignation that she felt clawed its way through her and threatened to tear through the stoic barrier.
Prying her fingers apart, her palms stung and she stiffly rose from the kline, the silken sheets sliding to the cold floor. Her chin tilted up in pride and she gracefully approached the door. Unlike Achilleas, her daughters and the rest of the Mikaelidas household knew well to keep their distance, especially on days that she entertained Irakles. So, beseeming the whore that she was, she stepped over the threshold and out into the corridor completely bare. A smug grin cracked through her sullenly attractive veneer as she sashayed her way down the hall, her dainty stride effortless, to her chamber to dress.
Out of spite, Meena was deliberate in dressing and sparing with her time. Whenever she finally emerged from her quarters an ivory chiton clung to her frame. Layered elegantly over it was a lavender himation, the light hue complimenting to her fair olive complexion. The fabric was held in place by golden fibulae, formed like Mikaelidas lions, which were fastened at each shoulder – a mere reminder to Achilleas of her place whether he liked it or not. A simple, silver necklace rested across her breastbone and she wore an array of silver and golden bangles along each wrist. Her long, dark waves were swept back into a braid with glittering, glass beads sewn in. Her apparel wasn’t by any means ornate. But, it was far more luxurious than what a woman such as herself would ever be expected to wear. To hell with that.
When she entered the sitting room, her keen, amber orbs swept across the perimeter before landing on Achilleas as he peered out the window. “Why have you come here?” She asked coolly, blatantly skipping all forms of appropriate address. A glower pinched her delicate features and she did not breach the space between her and the lord. It wasn’t that he presented a threat, but rather she couldn’t dispel her innermost sense of having been violated. Of course, she would never express those feelings, opting instead for a neutral tone and a well-worn facade. Even then, it would be a lie to say that she was entirely shameful for having been seen.
She did not hurry of course. Achilleas was not surprised, using the time afforded to try and prepare himself better, and not dwell on that unfortunate beginning.
It had long been a source of discomfort to Achilleas, his father’s taking up with a woman - a girl when she had first come - akin to his own age. Angry at the slight to his mother but unable to do anything about it, the Lord had turned some of that hostility toward Meena. Never obviously, because his father would not stand for that, but it was there non the less, a subtle coldness in any of the interactions that he was forced to endure, outright avoidance of her otherwise.
He had been young himself when Irakles had moved her into the archontiko, and had been faced with the confusing fact that here was this girl, this attractive girl -for what teenage boy would not have noticed Meena- taken up with his father. She could never assume any kind of authority over him, but yet he could not ignore the fact that she had his father’s ear, so it was a strange dance between them.
The woman’s surprise at him having sought her out was not misplaced then, for it was a rarity, and something must have moved the Lord to break his own rule of just trying to ignore her existence entirely. Indeed it was the very face that he needed something of her that saw Achilleas prepared to overlook the inflammatory nature of her tone when she suddenly spoke and pulled him from his musings.
Turning as to face the woman in the doorway.,he looked her over, not missing the finery she had draped herself in, his gaze stilling a moment on the fibulae she had selected, before he gave a snort of disdain and let his eyes settle upon her face and the glare she directed at him.
Achilleas drew a breath as if summoning his own patience, calling upon his years and experience as a baron in dealing with those who could not harness their emotions. He would conduct himself cordially even if she would not.
“My apologies, Meena for..before” The words were delivered dispassionately, the man having had chance to consider them and determined not to lose his focus in this. If her choice of wording stung - like he did not have the right to move about the Archontiko - then Achilleas did not let it show, but rather continued to maintain his carefully constructed reserve.
“ I had hoped to speak with you. I have a request regarding the staff, and that being your domain” his jaw tensed a little at that “had me seek you out”. And see more than he had bargained for the Lord thought, with a flash of irritation again.
If his father had not revoked the responsibilities of the House from him, then Achilleas might have even just dealt with it himself, risked her annoyance rather than having to approach and ask for something. But that was not an option available to him now, and so he was forced to swallow a good helping of his own pride in saying what he said next.
“The girl...Briseis.I need you to find her another position”. The words were almost bitter on his tongue, Achilleas aware of his betrayal and not liking it. But what else could do?
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She did not hurry of course. Achilleas was not surprised, using the time afforded to try and prepare himself better, and not dwell on that unfortunate beginning.
It had long been a source of discomfort to Achilleas, his father’s taking up with a woman - a girl when she had first come - akin to his own age. Angry at the slight to his mother but unable to do anything about it, the Lord had turned some of that hostility toward Meena. Never obviously, because his father would not stand for that, but it was there non the less, a subtle coldness in any of the interactions that he was forced to endure, outright avoidance of her otherwise.
He had been young himself when Irakles had moved her into the archontiko, and had been faced with the confusing fact that here was this girl, this attractive girl -for what teenage boy would not have noticed Meena- taken up with his father. She could never assume any kind of authority over him, but yet he could not ignore the fact that she had his father’s ear, so it was a strange dance between them.
The woman’s surprise at him having sought her out was not misplaced then, for it was a rarity, and something must have moved the Lord to break his own rule of just trying to ignore her existence entirely. Indeed it was the very face that he needed something of her that saw Achilleas prepared to overlook the inflammatory nature of her tone when she suddenly spoke and pulled him from his musings.
Turning as to face the woman in the doorway.,he looked her over, not missing the finery she had draped herself in, his gaze stilling a moment on the fibulae she had selected, before he gave a snort of disdain and let his eyes settle upon her face and the glare she directed at him.
Achilleas drew a breath as if summoning his own patience, calling upon his years and experience as a baron in dealing with those who could not harness their emotions. He would conduct himself cordially even if she would not.
“My apologies, Meena for..before” The words were delivered dispassionately, the man having had chance to consider them and determined not to lose his focus in this. If her choice of wording stung - like he did not have the right to move about the Archontiko - then Achilleas did not let it show, but rather continued to maintain his carefully constructed reserve.
“ I had hoped to speak with you. I have a request regarding the staff, and that being your domain” his jaw tensed a little at that “had me seek you out”. And see more than he had bargained for the Lord thought, with a flash of irritation again.
If his father had not revoked the responsibilities of the House from him, then Achilleas might have even just dealt with it himself, risked her annoyance rather than having to approach and ask for something. But that was not an option available to him now, and so he was forced to swallow a good helping of his own pride in saying what he said next.
“The girl...Briseis.I need you to find her another position”. The words were almost bitter on his tongue, Achilleas aware of his betrayal and not liking it. But what else could do?
She did not hurry of course. Achilleas was not surprised, using the time afforded to try and prepare himself better, and not dwell on that unfortunate beginning.
It had long been a source of discomfort to Achilleas, his father’s taking up with a woman - a girl when she had first come - akin to his own age. Angry at the slight to his mother but unable to do anything about it, the Lord had turned some of that hostility toward Meena. Never obviously, because his father would not stand for that, but it was there non the less, a subtle coldness in any of the interactions that he was forced to endure, outright avoidance of her otherwise.
He had been young himself when Irakles had moved her into the archontiko, and had been faced with the confusing fact that here was this girl, this attractive girl -for what teenage boy would not have noticed Meena- taken up with his father. She could never assume any kind of authority over him, but yet he could not ignore the fact that she had his father’s ear, so it was a strange dance between them.
The woman’s surprise at him having sought her out was not misplaced then, for it was a rarity, and something must have moved the Lord to break his own rule of just trying to ignore her existence entirely. Indeed it was the very face that he needed something of her that saw Achilleas prepared to overlook the inflammatory nature of her tone when she suddenly spoke and pulled him from his musings.
Turning as to face the woman in the doorway.,he looked her over, not missing the finery she had draped herself in, his gaze stilling a moment on the fibulae she had selected, before he gave a snort of disdain and let his eyes settle upon her face and the glare she directed at him.
Achilleas drew a breath as if summoning his own patience, calling upon his years and experience as a baron in dealing with those who could not harness their emotions. He would conduct himself cordially even if she would not.
“My apologies, Meena for..before” The words were delivered dispassionately, the man having had chance to consider them and determined not to lose his focus in this. If her choice of wording stung - like he did not have the right to move about the Archontiko - then Achilleas did not let it show, but rather continued to maintain his carefully constructed reserve.
“ I had hoped to speak with you. I have a request regarding the staff, and that being your domain” his jaw tensed a little at that “had me seek you out”. And see more than he had bargained for the Lord thought, with a flash of irritation again.
If his father had not revoked the responsibilities of the House from him, then Achilleas might have even just dealt with it himself, risked her annoyance rather than having to approach and ask for something. But that was not an option available to him now, and so he was forced to swallow a good helping of his own pride in saying what he said next.
“The girl...Briseis.I need you to find her another position”. The words were almost bitter on his tongue, Achilleas aware of his betrayal and not liking it. But what else could do?
Achilleas had always been the model son. Though, to Meena he seemed rather skittish and eager to please - A trait that Irakles had always brutally exploited. Meena felt that oft’ Achilleas could be under-estimated by his father and she hated it. She couldn’t shake her sense of mistrust with her lover’s son. He seemed unsure of what he stood for and that alone was enough for her to keep a wary eye on him.
"The girl... Briseis. I need you to find her another position." His words were acrid and echoed across the sitting room. Meena took note of his drawn brows and obvious discomfort at the subject. Interesting. Her arms crossed self-assuredly over her chest and she tilted her head in feign ignorance.
“How could a servant girl hold such attention that my lord himself would come to me to motion for her disposal?” Her voice was airy and light with innocence. Her delicate features furrowed in confusion. “I am afraid that I do not understand your request. Is she not adequate in her duties? Is she to be whipped? Shall I dismiss her from the estate?”
Meena had endured Irakles ill-tempered rants over his son being swayed from his focus. Perhaps, due to the bright blue eyes and sun-dipped tresses of one special woman? Regardless, Meena kept her light-hearted smile plastered across her face. Let him think she was unsuspecting.
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Achilleas had always been the model son. Though, to Meena he seemed rather skittish and eager to please - A trait that Irakles had always brutally exploited. Meena felt that oft’ Achilleas could be under-estimated by his father and she hated it. She couldn’t shake her sense of mistrust with her lover’s son. He seemed unsure of what he stood for and that alone was enough for her to keep a wary eye on him.
"The girl... Briseis. I need you to find her another position." His words were acrid and echoed across the sitting room. Meena took note of his drawn brows and obvious discomfort at the subject. Interesting. Her arms crossed self-assuredly over her chest and she tilted her head in feign ignorance.
“How could a servant girl hold such attention that my lord himself would come to me to motion for her disposal?” Her voice was airy and light with innocence. Her delicate features furrowed in confusion. “I am afraid that I do not understand your request. Is she not adequate in her duties? Is she to be whipped? Shall I dismiss her from the estate?”
Meena had endured Irakles ill-tempered rants over his son being swayed from his focus. Perhaps, due to the bright blue eyes and sun-dipped tresses of one special woman? Regardless, Meena kept her light-hearted smile plastered across her face. Let him think she was unsuspecting.
Achilleas had always been the model son. Though, to Meena he seemed rather skittish and eager to please - A trait that Irakles had always brutally exploited. Meena felt that oft’ Achilleas could be under-estimated by his father and she hated it. She couldn’t shake her sense of mistrust with her lover’s son. He seemed unsure of what he stood for and that alone was enough for her to keep a wary eye on him.
"The girl... Briseis. I need you to find her another position." His words were acrid and echoed across the sitting room. Meena took note of his drawn brows and obvious discomfort at the subject. Interesting. Her arms crossed self-assuredly over her chest and she tilted her head in feign ignorance.
“How could a servant girl hold such attention that my lord himself would come to me to motion for her disposal?” Her voice was airy and light with innocence. Her delicate features furrowed in confusion. “I am afraid that I do not understand your request. Is she not adequate in her duties? Is she to be whipped? Shall I dismiss her from the estate?”
Meena had endured Irakles ill-tempered rants over his son being swayed from his focus. Perhaps, due to the bright blue eyes and sun-dipped tresses of one special woman? Regardless, Meena kept her light-hearted smile plastered across her face. Let him think she was unsuspecting.
Perhaps Meena did not trust him, he certainly did not trust her, which was made the dynamics of their little interaction so tense and loaded. His eyes had slid away from her as he’d made his request- whether because of guilt or because he was still trying to purge his mind of the vision of her naked, it wasn’t clear. But it was obvious it cost him to speak the words, for whatever reason.
When she moved, the subtle movement to fold her arms across her chest, his gaze flickered up to her again, watching her warily as she spoke. The Lord’s generous mouth thinned a little as he realised that she was going to make him explain, and he wondered why he had even hoped that she wouldn’t. There was no way on earth that Meena would relinquish the opportunity to make him sweat a little, and Achilleas scowled, because his father had known of his arrangement with Briseis, and he could hardly believe that this woman was as ignorant as she was pretending to be. She knew and yet she was making this as awkward as it could be.
“She is perfectly adequate and is absolutely not to be harmed in any way Meena.” His words were firm, unyielding, even as he stood before her asking this boon. It was bad enough, that he was making this request, and Achilleas made himself look at her, thinking this horrible awkwardness was his punishment for his own mishandling of the whole mess. He swallowed before he went on, internally cringing even before he spoke the words “I think perhaps you know that she and I..that she attended to me. It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here.” I can’t bear looking at her misery anymore “I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong.”
The Lord reiterated the fact that Briseis was without fault, and it made him feel even worse for doing this but he thought it better. She would be happier, he reasoned, with a clean start.
“Can you arrange this?” Achilleas asked, looking at Meena, trying to soften his expression to match the fact that he was asking a favour even though everything in him resisted showing the slightest deference to the woman before him. He should have waited until he was back in Euttica and done it via missive, he thought, as he waited for her to wipe away that smirk and answer him.
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Perhaps Meena did not trust him, he certainly did not trust her, which was made the dynamics of their little interaction so tense and loaded. His eyes had slid away from her as he’d made his request- whether because of guilt or because he was still trying to purge his mind of the vision of her naked, it wasn’t clear. But it was obvious it cost him to speak the words, for whatever reason.
When she moved, the subtle movement to fold her arms across her chest, his gaze flickered up to her again, watching her warily as she spoke. The Lord’s generous mouth thinned a little as he realised that she was going to make him explain, and he wondered why he had even hoped that she wouldn’t. There was no way on earth that Meena would relinquish the opportunity to make him sweat a little, and Achilleas scowled, because his father had known of his arrangement with Briseis, and he could hardly believe that this woman was as ignorant as she was pretending to be. She knew and yet she was making this as awkward as it could be.
“She is perfectly adequate and is absolutely not to be harmed in any way Meena.” His words were firm, unyielding, even as he stood before her asking this boon. It was bad enough, that he was making this request, and Achilleas made himself look at her, thinking this horrible awkwardness was his punishment for his own mishandling of the whole mess. He swallowed before he went on, internally cringing even before he spoke the words “I think perhaps you know that she and I..that she attended to me. It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here.” I can’t bear looking at her misery anymore “I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong.”
The Lord reiterated the fact that Briseis was without fault, and it made him feel even worse for doing this but he thought it better. She would be happier, he reasoned, with a clean start.
“Can you arrange this?” Achilleas asked, looking at Meena, trying to soften his expression to match the fact that he was asking a favour even though everything in him resisted showing the slightest deference to the woman before him. He should have waited until he was back in Euttica and done it via missive, he thought, as he waited for her to wipe away that smirk and answer him.
Perhaps Meena did not trust him, he certainly did not trust her, which was made the dynamics of their little interaction so tense and loaded. His eyes had slid away from her as he’d made his request- whether because of guilt or because he was still trying to purge his mind of the vision of her naked, it wasn’t clear. But it was obvious it cost him to speak the words, for whatever reason.
When she moved, the subtle movement to fold her arms across her chest, his gaze flickered up to her again, watching her warily as she spoke. The Lord’s generous mouth thinned a little as he realised that she was going to make him explain, and he wondered why he had even hoped that she wouldn’t. There was no way on earth that Meena would relinquish the opportunity to make him sweat a little, and Achilleas scowled, because his father had known of his arrangement with Briseis, and he could hardly believe that this woman was as ignorant as she was pretending to be. She knew and yet she was making this as awkward as it could be.
“She is perfectly adequate and is absolutely not to be harmed in any way Meena.” His words were firm, unyielding, even as he stood before her asking this boon. It was bad enough, that he was making this request, and Achilleas made himself look at her, thinking this horrible awkwardness was his punishment for his own mishandling of the whole mess. He swallowed before he went on, internally cringing even before he spoke the words “I think perhaps you know that she and I..that she attended to me. It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here.” I can’t bear looking at her misery anymore “I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong.”
The Lord reiterated the fact that Briseis was without fault, and it made him feel even worse for doing this but he thought it better. She would be happier, he reasoned, with a clean start.
“Can you arrange this?” Achilleas asked, looking at Meena, trying to soften his expression to match the fact that he was asking a favour even though everything in him resisted showing the slightest deference to the woman before him. He should have waited until he was back in Euttica and done it via missive, he thought, as he waited for her to wipe away that smirk and answer him.
Meena kept her smile polite as Achilleas stammered on. "I think perhaps you know that she and I... that she attended to me.”In more ways than one, clearly.“It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here."He feels guilty."I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong. Can you arrange this?”
The hypocrisy of men never ceased. Achilleas didn’t want Briseis close, so he could escape his guilt. Yet, he wouldn’t let her stray too far either, keeping her just across the property like a piece of dangling fruit. The humor of this situation was not lost on Meena, but she bit back a bitter laugh. At least, Irakles had always been forthcoming about her. She respected his candidness. In the court, to have a lover was akin to breathing; it happened naturally and was vital to their existence, something Achilleas would soon learn.
“Send the girl to me.” She replied finally after some deliberation. “I am in need of a lady-in-waiting.”
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Meena kept her smile polite as Achilleas stammered on. "I think perhaps you know that she and I... that she attended to me.”In more ways than one, clearly.“It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here."He feels guilty."I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong. Can you arrange this?”
The hypocrisy of men never ceased. Achilleas didn’t want Briseis close, so he could escape his guilt. Yet, he wouldn’t let her stray too far either, keeping her just across the property like a piece of dangling fruit. The humor of this situation was not lost on Meena, but she bit back a bitter laugh. At least, Irakles had always been forthcoming about her. She respected his candidness. In the court, to have a lover was akin to breathing; it happened naturally and was vital to their existence, something Achilleas would soon learn.
“Send the girl to me.” She replied finally after some deliberation. “I am in need of a lady-in-waiting.”
Meena kept her smile polite as Achilleas stammered on. "I think perhaps you know that she and I... that she attended to me.”In more ways than one, clearly.“It is indelicate now that she is so visible a presence when Theodora is here."He feels guilty."I would have her reassigned. Find her a place in another house perhaps? She has done nothing wrong. Can you arrange this?”
The hypocrisy of men never ceased. Achilleas didn’t want Briseis close, so he could escape his guilt. Yet, he wouldn’t let her stray too far either, keeping her just across the property like a piece of dangling fruit. The humor of this situation was not lost on Meena, but she bit back a bitter laugh. At least, Irakles had always been forthcoming about her. She respected his candidness. In the court, to have a lover was akin to breathing; it happened naturally and was vital to their existence, something Achilleas would soon learn.
“Send the girl to me.” She replied finally after some deliberation. “I am in need of a lady-in-waiting.”
His gaze narrowed on her when she finally spoke, Achilleas clamping his teeth shut on the ‘you do not need ladies in waiting[/i] that is what he wanted to say. As if Meena had not reaped enough from her ingracious association with his father, living here in this house, even attending court events whilst his Mother was ousted to Euttica. It was all he could do not to react, reminding himself that he needed this.
Though as the lord considered more fully what it might mean, he felt a whisper of unease. Did he really want to put Briseis - a girl who knew more of him than she ought, in the hands of Meena? It was like trying to choose between the lesser of two evils - Briseis would be not be forced to wait on him, nor on Theodora if she was ever in attendance if she were take such a position. There would be a more solid division between his former lover and his wife, which could only be a good thing. But, and blue eyes flickered back up to Meena then, she would be in the clutches of a person that Achilleas bore little love for, and who cared not for him in return.
“...that would be almost a promotion for her would it not?” he asked, buying himself a little time. It were not as if Briseis carried great secrets that he feared she’d let out, he had been careful as in everything not to speak to her of anything sensitive. It just made him uncomfortable to think of her loyalty switching to lie with Meena of all people.
But Achilleas did not have the time to give it more attention. He could imagine his father’s derisive words if it were to be revealed that he had bothered to involve himself in such trivial matters as household staff, and so the Lord blew out a breath, and nodded crisply.
“It will do as well as anything, I suppose. I cannot send he to you though -she is not to know that I requested this, Meena. There is no benefit to being unkind.” Once again, Achilleas struggled to walk the line between requesting and ordering, and he averted his gaze from his father’s mistress as he went on. “My thanks for your help”.
A brief thanks, but one that was hard won nevertheless, and the Lord Mikaelidas gave the tiniest incline of his head, his gaze drifting to the door through which he now could not wait to make his escape. “If you will excuse me, I have other things requiring my attention, and am sure I have taken enough of your time this morning.”
He was gone then, giving Meena a wide berth as he passed, his footsteps marking his departure back toward his study. And the woman was left to consider the fact that it was perhaps as many words as the Mikaelidas heir had spoken directly to her in the entire time she had lived there.
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His gaze narrowed on her when she finally spoke, Achilleas clamping his teeth shut on the ‘you do not need ladies in waiting[/i] that is what he wanted to say. As if Meena had not reaped enough from her ingracious association with his father, living here in this house, even attending court events whilst his Mother was ousted to Euttica. It was all he could do not to react, reminding himself that he needed this.
Though as the lord considered more fully what it might mean, he felt a whisper of unease. Did he really want to put Briseis - a girl who knew more of him than she ought, in the hands of Meena? It was like trying to choose between the lesser of two evils - Briseis would be not be forced to wait on him, nor on Theodora if she was ever in attendance if she were take such a position. There would be a more solid division between his former lover and his wife, which could only be a good thing. But, and blue eyes flickered back up to Meena then, she would be in the clutches of a person that Achilleas bore little love for, and who cared not for him in return.
“...that would be almost a promotion for her would it not?” he asked, buying himself a little time. It were not as if Briseis carried great secrets that he feared she’d let out, he had been careful as in everything not to speak to her of anything sensitive. It just made him uncomfortable to think of her loyalty switching to lie with Meena of all people.
But Achilleas did not have the time to give it more attention. He could imagine his father’s derisive words if it were to be revealed that he had bothered to involve himself in such trivial matters as household staff, and so the Lord blew out a breath, and nodded crisply.
“It will do as well as anything, I suppose. I cannot send he to you though -she is not to know that I requested this, Meena. There is no benefit to being unkind.” Once again, Achilleas struggled to walk the line between requesting and ordering, and he averted his gaze from his father’s mistress as he went on. “My thanks for your help”.
A brief thanks, but one that was hard won nevertheless, and the Lord Mikaelidas gave the tiniest incline of his head, his gaze drifting to the door through which he now could not wait to make his escape. “If you will excuse me, I have other things requiring my attention, and am sure I have taken enough of your time this morning.”
He was gone then, giving Meena a wide berth as he passed, his footsteps marking his departure back toward his study. And the woman was left to consider the fact that it was perhaps as many words as the Mikaelidas heir had spoken directly to her in the entire time she had lived there.
His gaze narrowed on her when she finally spoke, Achilleas clamping his teeth shut on the ‘you do not need ladies in waiting[/i] that is what he wanted to say. As if Meena had not reaped enough from her ingracious association with his father, living here in this house, even attending court events whilst his Mother was ousted to Euttica. It was all he could do not to react, reminding himself that he needed this.
Though as the lord considered more fully what it might mean, he felt a whisper of unease. Did he really want to put Briseis - a girl who knew more of him than she ought, in the hands of Meena? It was like trying to choose between the lesser of two evils - Briseis would be not be forced to wait on him, nor on Theodora if she was ever in attendance if she were take such a position. There would be a more solid division between his former lover and his wife, which could only be a good thing. But, and blue eyes flickered back up to Meena then, she would be in the clutches of a person that Achilleas bore little love for, and who cared not for him in return.
“...that would be almost a promotion for her would it not?” he asked, buying himself a little time. It were not as if Briseis carried great secrets that he feared she’d let out, he had been careful as in everything not to speak to her of anything sensitive. It just made him uncomfortable to think of her loyalty switching to lie with Meena of all people.
But Achilleas did not have the time to give it more attention. He could imagine his father’s derisive words if it were to be revealed that he had bothered to involve himself in such trivial matters as household staff, and so the Lord blew out a breath, and nodded crisply.
“It will do as well as anything, I suppose. I cannot send he to you though -she is not to know that I requested this, Meena. There is no benefit to being unkind.” Once again, Achilleas struggled to walk the line between requesting and ordering, and he averted his gaze from his father’s mistress as he went on. “My thanks for your help”.
A brief thanks, but one that was hard won nevertheless, and the Lord Mikaelidas gave the tiniest incline of his head, his gaze drifting to the door through which he now could not wait to make his escape. “If you will excuse me, I have other things requiring my attention, and am sure I have taken enough of your time this morning.”
He was gone then, giving Meena a wide berth as he passed, his footsteps marking his departure back toward his study. And the woman was left to consider the fact that it was perhaps as many words as the Mikaelidas heir had spoken directly to her in the entire time she had lived there.