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This was it. Demetrius stared at the palace for a moment, a few of his companions trailing behind having been cleaned up since their individual bouts in the arena. Most had been winners in their part and so as people flowed in around them they had been distracted by the people who recognized and congratulated them. Kleio hadn't been kidding, gladiators were truly admired by the upper crust of humanity. It was strange to him, that people who perhaps had been cheering for him or his friends to lose were suddenly fawning over them. Those people that had hoped they would die, or at least bleed first, now suddenly all interested in their company. No matter, that wasn't the focus of the night for him.
Kleio had intrigued him, he would be lying if he said he hadn't been overwhelmingly attracted to the exotic looking woman and all of her finery. In such a confined space that had been crowded out by his nervousness, but now with a clean chiton and deep blue chlamys borrowed from Arkos he almost looked the part of a victor. He'd scrubbed every single inch of his skin until it was raw red, trying to remove every speck of arena and lower city from himself before daring to approach the palace, and his hair was showing far lighter than it had before when it had been drenched in sweat and sand from the arena. He was an obvious foreigner, that much was clear with his features. Greeks would never think him one of their own, and yet dressed like this his own mother wouldn't have recognized him if she'd been alive.
"Demetrius, this way in man."
Arkos gave a wave toward the stream of people, waiting until the blonde man had plied his jaw from the floor and stepped forward. Giving his name to the guard at the door, he included the name of the lady who had invited them, waiting anxiously for a sign of recognition or that she had said anything. The longer he waited the more he feared a trap, that would somehow force him back into slavery, or something that would make a mockery of him. She'd seemed sincere enough in her admirations earlier but what if she had simply asked him along to make him a fool.
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This was it. Demetrius stared at the palace for a moment, a few of his companions trailing behind having been cleaned up since their individual bouts in the arena. Most had been winners in their part and so as people flowed in around them they had been distracted by the people who recognized and congratulated them. Kleio hadn't been kidding, gladiators were truly admired by the upper crust of humanity. It was strange to him, that people who perhaps had been cheering for him or his friends to lose were suddenly fawning over them. Those people that had hoped they would die, or at least bleed first, now suddenly all interested in their company. No matter, that wasn't the focus of the night for him.
Kleio had intrigued him, he would be lying if he said he hadn't been overwhelmingly attracted to the exotic looking woman and all of her finery. In such a confined space that had been crowded out by his nervousness, but now with a clean chiton and deep blue chlamys borrowed from Arkos he almost looked the part of a victor. He'd scrubbed every single inch of his skin until it was raw red, trying to remove every speck of arena and lower city from himself before daring to approach the palace, and his hair was showing far lighter than it had before when it had been drenched in sweat and sand from the arena. He was an obvious foreigner, that much was clear with his features. Greeks would never think him one of their own, and yet dressed like this his own mother wouldn't have recognized him if she'd been alive.
"Demetrius, this way in man."
Arkos gave a wave toward the stream of people, waiting until the blonde man had plied his jaw from the floor and stepped forward. Giving his name to the guard at the door, he included the name of the lady who had invited them, waiting anxiously for a sign of recognition or that she had said anything. The longer he waited the more he feared a trap, that would somehow force him back into slavery, or something that would make a mockery of him. She'd seemed sincere enough in her admirations earlier but what if she had simply asked him along to make him a fool.
This was it. Demetrius stared at the palace for a moment, a few of his companions trailing behind having been cleaned up since their individual bouts in the arena. Most had been winners in their part and so as people flowed in around them they had been distracted by the people who recognized and congratulated them. Kleio hadn't been kidding, gladiators were truly admired by the upper crust of humanity. It was strange to him, that people who perhaps had been cheering for him or his friends to lose were suddenly fawning over them. Those people that had hoped they would die, or at least bleed first, now suddenly all interested in their company. No matter, that wasn't the focus of the night for him.
Kleio had intrigued him, he would be lying if he said he hadn't been overwhelmingly attracted to the exotic looking woman and all of her finery. In such a confined space that had been crowded out by his nervousness, but now with a clean chiton and deep blue chlamys borrowed from Arkos he almost looked the part of a victor. He'd scrubbed every single inch of his skin until it was raw red, trying to remove every speck of arena and lower city from himself before daring to approach the palace, and his hair was showing far lighter than it had before when it had been drenched in sweat and sand from the arena. He was an obvious foreigner, that much was clear with his features. Greeks would never think him one of their own, and yet dressed like this his own mother wouldn't have recognized him if she'd been alive.
"Demetrius, this way in man."
Arkos gave a wave toward the stream of people, waiting until the blonde man had plied his jaw from the floor and stepped forward. Giving his name to the guard at the door, he included the name of the lady who had invited them, waiting anxiously for a sign of recognition or that she had said anything. The longer he waited the more he feared a trap, that would somehow force him back into slavery, or something that would make a mockery of him. She'd seemed sincere enough in her admirations earlier but what if she had simply asked him along to make him a fool.
The palace was chaos. A good chaos though. A chaos that hid the sins of men and distracted even the most staunch conservatives. Music swam from every corner; spilling out through the large Corinthian columns that held the massive pediment aloft. Outside dancers and flamethrowers greeted guests. There were singers and magicians and sights and smells that shocked the crowds and caused them to gasp and clap. All of it cascading in rich display down the stairs from the palace; hinting at how much more would be seen inside. Because not only was this the feast of sinners, the annual event that was held just before the harvest where food and wine flowed like sea water, but where inhibitions and social propriety were left behind. And when darkness fell the entire city sank into debauchery and immorality.
It was intoxicating.
Kleio had spent very little time at the arena that afternoon. Once Demetrius had fought, she'd rushed back to the palace to ensure all of the final arrangements were in order before the King and his family arrived back. She oversaw the entertainment as they arrived and the food and wine. She went over the larger details with Persephone when she arrived back from the games and then helped her freshen up before sending her out to continue with her engagement festivities. When all of her chores were completed, she hurried back to her own quarters and shoved the door closed; calling orders like the commander of the Athenian guard to her servants. Yes. Servants. She'd brought in several to help her tonight. Because if there was only one night she could outshine the Princess, it was tonight. There were just too many people in the palace to care, and they were all dressed just as decadently.
Her hair had been curled and then wrapped around golden cords in a soft updo; tendrils escaping its grasp to brush against the column of her neck and the golden band that held the style up peaked along her crown. Her face had been dusted with gold flecks so that her caramel skin shimmered along her temple and down her cheek and neck. It fell along her collarbones and between her breasts like her skin was a precious metal. The rest of her skin glowed with fragrant oils and she wore thick gold cuffs on her wrists and bands on her arms.
Her ankles were decorated with golden bands and she wore no shoes; the dusting trailing from her foot up around one leg and thigh where the slit of her gown rose to her hip. A simple knot about the waist seemed to hold the whole piece together and the material was the whitest shade of pale pink.
She left her large room just as the voices of many guests began to fill the corridors. The music filled the walls and the sky; from the lowest rungs of society to the highest pillar of the palace. It lent energy to the air and spoke of things to come. She adjusted her cuff as she swept down the hall; the material of her gown flowing out behind her revealing the length of her shapely thigh. She was barely kept in her top; held only in place by some strategic twists of the material to keep her breasts hidden beneath gossamer fabric.
With this many people in the palace it was far too difficult to keep track of the princess; to follow her at a steady pace and so she was given leave along with Persephone's other maidens to enjoy the party. And so enjoy she would.
Plucking up a glass of wine from a scantily clad male server, she downed it quickly before setting it down and taking another. One glass would do very little...she was quite accustomed to alcohol... though anything more than four would likely make it difficult to walk straight. She knew her limits. It wouldn't due for a companion of the queen to be seen in leave of her senses. Elais would not attend the event... not here. Though he was having his own feast of sinners gathering later that she told him she would try to attend. It really all hinged on her meeting and interaction with Demetrius. Were he as stiff and awkward as he'd been in the carriage, she believed it would be an early night for her. If he fell under the spell of the luxury and gluttony of the night, she may find herself completely losing track of time. Elias would just have to understand as what she did was for him, ultimately. ....Even if it meant fawning on a man as handsome as Demetrius. Sometimes she simply had to make sacrifices for the cause.
As the night grew later, Kleio mingled with those at court she was familiar and well acquainted with; many of which she'd entertained secretly in her past. They were charming and flattering and she was quite in her element. When a young servant boy stopped her to let her know that her Gladiator had arrived, she smiled brightly and followed him to the main entry; pushing through throngs of guests and people who flooded the foyer out onto the main portico and entryway. Upon exiting the main entry she raised her chin; standing on her toes in an attempt to find him. Finally, he came into view, save he looked different than he had that morning. In the shroud of night and firelight, his features were more brooding; and he was clean shaven and well groomed. His clothes were clean and in fine condition and his decorative chlamys gave the impression that he belonged there. And why didn't he? He was a gladiator. There was no one else more worthy... the blood that coursed through his veins were fodder for the aristocracy. And he was hers.
She smiled brightly and pushed her way through the people who were trying to get in or milling about; some of the gold flecks brushing off her arms and shimmering behind her as they fell to the ground. When she finally reached him, her fingers immediately curled into his and she leaned up to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. "Demetrius..." Her voice was breathy and excited; warm against his cheek and she leaned back to look up at him; her hazel eyes sparkling. "You came.." She knew he would. Even with his reluctance, the temptation was far too much for anyone to resist; between the palace and her what reason would he have to say no? Especially for a sellsword.
It was everything she could do to tear her eyes away from him; he was immensely attractive. His dirty hair was now clean and fell in tousled waves around his face. His skin glowed from being in the sun; warm and honey-colored and his arms were firm and strong, but not hulking as the other gladiators were. His hands were warm and his skin had a fine sheen on it; likely from the long walk up to the palace. ...She would have sent a carriage for him, but he didn't seem terribly impressed with her or her carriage earlier. And while she wanted to impress him, she didn't want to push him away.
Finally, she tore her gaze away and turned her attention to the man who hovered nearby. She stepped away from Dima to offer her hand to the other Gladiator; smiling gracefully. "Welcome to the palace... my name is Kleio. I'm happy Demetrius brought you." Taking her hand back after their greeting, she gave a casual wave around them. "Everything you see you may partake of. The food. The wine. The women. ....The men, if that is your proclivity. Enjoy the music.. the dancing. You are gladiators and you will be revered here.." She turned her attention back to Dima and folded her arm in his. "I'm afraid I want you all to myself though.... will you be terribly disappointed if I'm not inclined to share tonight?"
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
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The palace was chaos. A good chaos though. A chaos that hid the sins of men and distracted even the most staunch conservatives. Music swam from every corner; spilling out through the large Corinthian columns that held the massive pediment aloft. Outside dancers and flamethrowers greeted guests. There were singers and magicians and sights and smells that shocked the crowds and caused them to gasp and clap. All of it cascading in rich display down the stairs from the palace; hinting at how much more would be seen inside. Because not only was this the feast of sinners, the annual event that was held just before the harvest where food and wine flowed like sea water, but where inhibitions and social propriety were left behind. And when darkness fell the entire city sank into debauchery and immorality.
It was intoxicating.
Kleio had spent very little time at the arena that afternoon. Once Demetrius had fought, she'd rushed back to the palace to ensure all of the final arrangements were in order before the King and his family arrived back. She oversaw the entertainment as they arrived and the food and wine. She went over the larger details with Persephone when she arrived back from the games and then helped her freshen up before sending her out to continue with her engagement festivities. When all of her chores were completed, she hurried back to her own quarters and shoved the door closed; calling orders like the commander of the Athenian guard to her servants. Yes. Servants. She'd brought in several to help her tonight. Because if there was only one night she could outshine the Princess, it was tonight. There were just too many people in the palace to care, and they were all dressed just as decadently.
Her hair had been curled and then wrapped around golden cords in a soft updo; tendrils escaping its grasp to brush against the column of her neck and the golden band that held the style up peaked along her crown. Her face had been dusted with gold flecks so that her caramel skin shimmered along her temple and down her cheek and neck. It fell along her collarbones and between her breasts like her skin was a precious metal. The rest of her skin glowed with fragrant oils and she wore thick gold cuffs on her wrists and bands on her arms.
Her ankles were decorated with golden bands and she wore no shoes; the dusting trailing from her foot up around one leg and thigh where the slit of her gown rose to her hip. A simple knot about the waist seemed to hold the whole piece together and the material was the whitest shade of pale pink.
She left her large room just as the voices of many guests began to fill the corridors. The music filled the walls and the sky; from the lowest rungs of society to the highest pillar of the palace. It lent energy to the air and spoke of things to come. She adjusted her cuff as she swept down the hall; the material of her gown flowing out behind her revealing the length of her shapely thigh. She was barely kept in her top; held only in place by some strategic twists of the material to keep her breasts hidden beneath gossamer fabric.
With this many people in the palace it was far too difficult to keep track of the princess; to follow her at a steady pace and so she was given leave along with Persephone's other maidens to enjoy the party. And so enjoy she would.
Plucking up a glass of wine from a scantily clad male server, she downed it quickly before setting it down and taking another. One glass would do very little...she was quite accustomed to alcohol... though anything more than four would likely make it difficult to walk straight. She knew her limits. It wouldn't due for a companion of the queen to be seen in leave of her senses. Elais would not attend the event... not here. Though he was having his own feast of sinners gathering later that she told him she would try to attend. It really all hinged on her meeting and interaction with Demetrius. Were he as stiff and awkward as he'd been in the carriage, she believed it would be an early night for her. If he fell under the spell of the luxury and gluttony of the night, she may find herself completely losing track of time. Elias would just have to understand as what she did was for him, ultimately. ....Even if it meant fawning on a man as handsome as Demetrius. Sometimes she simply had to make sacrifices for the cause.
As the night grew later, Kleio mingled with those at court she was familiar and well acquainted with; many of which she'd entertained secretly in her past. They were charming and flattering and she was quite in her element. When a young servant boy stopped her to let her know that her Gladiator had arrived, she smiled brightly and followed him to the main entry; pushing through throngs of guests and people who flooded the foyer out onto the main portico and entryway. Upon exiting the main entry she raised her chin; standing on her toes in an attempt to find him. Finally, he came into view, save he looked different than he had that morning. In the shroud of night and firelight, his features were more brooding; and he was clean shaven and well groomed. His clothes were clean and in fine condition and his decorative chlamys gave the impression that he belonged there. And why didn't he? He was a gladiator. There was no one else more worthy... the blood that coursed through his veins were fodder for the aristocracy. And he was hers.
She smiled brightly and pushed her way through the people who were trying to get in or milling about; some of the gold flecks brushing off her arms and shimmering behind her as they fell to the ground. When she finally reached him, her fingers immediately curled into his and she leaned up to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. "Demetrius..." Her voice was breathy and excited; warm against his cheek and she leaned back to look up at him; her hazel eyes sparkling. "You came.." She knew he would. Even with his reluctance, the temptation was far too much for anyone to resist; between the palace and her what reason would he have to say no? Especially for a sellsword.
It was everything she could do to tear her eyes away from him; he was immensely attractive. His dirty hair was now clean and fell in tousled waves around his face. His skin glowed from being in the sun; warm and honey-colored and his arms were firm and strong, but not hulking as the other gladiators were. His hands were warm and his skin had a fine sheen on it; likely from the long walk up to the palace. ...She would have sent a carriage for him, but he didn't seem terribly impressed with her or her carriage earlier. And while she wanted to impress him, she didn't want to push him away.
Finally, she tore her gaze away and turned her attention to the man who hovered nearby. She stepped away from Dima to offer her hand to the other Gladiator; smiling gracefully. "Welcome to the palace... my name is Kleio. I'm happy Demetrius brought you." Taking her hand back after their greeting, she gave a casual wave around them. "Everything you see you may partake of. The food. The wine. The women. ....The men, if that is your proclivity. Enjoy the music.. the dancing. You are gladiators and you will be revered here.." She turned her attention back to Dima and folded her arm in his. "I'm afraid I want you all to myself though.... will you be terribly disappointed if I'm not inclined to share tonight?"
The palace was chaos. A good chaos though. A chaos that hid the sins of men and distracted even the most staunch conservatives. Music swam from every corner; spilling out through the large Corinthian columns that held the massive pediment aloft. Outside dancers and flamethrowers greeted guests. There were singers and magicians and sights and smells that shocked the crowds and caused them to gasp and clap. All of it cascading in rich display down the stairs from the palace; hinting at how much more would be seen inside. Because not only was this the feast of sinners, the annual event that was held just before the harvest where food and wine flowed like sea water, but where inhibitions and social propriety were left behind. And when darkness fell the entire city sank into debauchery and immorality.
It was intoxicating.
Kleio had spent very little time at the arena that afternoon. Once Demetrius had fought, she'd rushed back to the palace to ensure all of the final arrangements were in order before the King and his family arrived back. She oversaw the entertainment as they arrived and the food and wine. She went over the larger details with Persephone when she arrived back from the games and then helped her freshen up before sending her out to continue with her engagement festivities. When all of her chores were completed, she hurried back to her own quarters and shoved the door closed; calling orders like the commander of the Athenian guard to her servants. Yes. Servants. She'd brought in several to help her tonight. Because if there was only one night she could outshine the Princess, it was tonight. There were just too many people in the palace to care, and they were all dressed just as decadently.
Her hair had been curled and then wrapped around golden cords in a soft updo; tendrils escaping its grasp to brush against the column of her neck and the golden band that held the style up peaked along her crown. Her face had been dusted with gold flecks so that her caramel skin shimmered along her temple and down her cheek and neck. It fell along her collarbones and between her breasts like her skin was a precious metal. The rest of her skin glowed with fragrant oils and she wore thick gold cuffs on her wrists and bands on her arms.
Her ankles were decorated with golden bands and she wore no shoes; the dusting trailing from her foot up around one leg and thigh where the slit of her gown rose to her hip. A simple knot about the waist seemed to hold the whole piece together and the material was the whitest shade of pale pink.
She left her large room just as the voices of many guests began to fill the corridors. The music filled the walls and the sky; from the lowest rungs of society to the highest pillar of the palace. It lent energy to the air and spoke of things to come. She adjusted her cuff as she swept down the hall; the material of her gown flowing out behind her revealing the length of her shapely thigh. She was barely kept in her top; held only in place by some strategic twists of the material to keep her breasts hidden beneath gossamer fabric.
With this many people in the palace it was far too difficult to keep track of the princess; to follow her at a steady pace and so she was given leave along with Persephone's other maidens to enjoy the party. And so enjoy she would.
Plucking up a glass of wine from a scantily clad male server, she downed it quickly before setting it down and taking another. One glass would do very little...she was quite accustomed to alcohol... though anything more than four would likely make it difficult to walk straight. She knew her limits. It wouldn't due for a companion of the queen to be seen in leave of her senses. Elais would not attend the event... not here. Though he was having his own feast of sinners gathering later that she told him she would try to attend. It really all hinged on her meeting and interaction with Demetrius. Were he as stiff and awkward as he'd been in the carriage, she believed it would be an early night for her. If he fell under the spell of the luxury and gluttony of the night, she may find herself completely losing track of time. Elias would just have to understand as what she did was for him, ultimately. ....Even if it meant fawning on a man as handsome as Demetrius. Sometimes she simply had to make sacrifices for the cause.
As the night grew later, Kleio mingled with those at court she was familiar and well acquainted with; many of which she'd entertained secretly in her past. They were charming and flattering and she was quite in her element. When a young servant boy stopped her to let her know that her Gladiator had arrived, she smiled brightly and followed him to the main entry; pushing through throngs of guests and people who flooded the foyer out onto the main portico and entryway. Upon exiting the main entry she raised her chin; standing on her toes in an attempt to find him. Finally, he came into view, save he looked different than he had that morning. In the shroud of night and firelight, his features were more brooding; and he was clean shaven and well groomed. His clothes were clean and in fine condition and his decorative chlamys gave the impression that he belonged there. And why didn't he? He was a gladiator. There was no one else more worthy... the blood that coursed through his veins were fodder for the aristocracy. And he was hers.
She smiled brightly and pushed her way through the people who were trying to get in or milling about; some of the gold flecks brushing off her arms and shimmering behind her as they fell to the ground. When she finally reached him, her fingers immediately curled into his and she leaned up to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. "Demetrius..." Her voice was breathy and excited; warm against his cheek and she leaned back to look up at him; her hazel eyes sparkling. "You came.." She knew he would. Even with his reluctance, the temptation was far too much for anyone to resist; between the palace and her what reason would he have to say no? Especially for a sellsword.
It was everything she could do to tear her eyes away from him; he was immensely attractive. His dirty hair was now clean and fell in tousled waves around his face. His skin glowed from being in the sun; warm and honey-colored and his arms were firm and strong, but not hulking as the other gladiators were. His hands were warm and his skin had a fine sheen on it; likely from the long walk up to the palace. ...She would have sent a carriage for him, but he didn't seem terribly impressed with her or her carriage earlier. And while she wanted to impress him, she didn't want to push him away.
Finally, she tore her gaze away and turned her attention to the man who hovered nearby. She stepped away from Dima to offer her hand to the other Gladiator; smiling gracefully. "Welcome to the palace... my name is Kleio. I'm happy Demetrius brought you." Taking her hand back after their greeting, she gave a casual wave around them. "Everything you see you may partake of. The food. The wine. The women. ....The men, if that is your proclivity. Enjoy the music.. the dancing. You are gladiators and you will be revered here.." She turned her attention back to Dima and folded her arm in his. "I'm afraid I want you all to myself though.... will you be terribly disappointed if I'm not inclined to share tonight?"
He saw Kleio approaching and his face melted into a smile as she approached, far more at ease than he had been before the fights when she had spoken to him in the carriage. As she kissed his cheek he felt a blush of heat spread over his skin and he once again had to fight to keep his eyes from drifting over her exposed skin. It was thanks to Arkos joining them and giving his own bow of introduction that he managed to pull himself together once more. Looking to his companion with a raised brow as she all but dismissed the other man, Demetrius gave a shrug and nodded as the other man took his leave with a wink thrown in his direction. His cheeks flamed again at the other man's cheekiness but he cleared his throat and turned his attention to Kleio once again as she claimed his attention.
She was so very slight in comparison to him, and her skin seemed so much smoother and delicate than anything he'd ever seen. Even Olena's hands had been rough in comparison, but that thought was not one he could manage right now. Not when, he had to admit, this woman was his best chance to find his lost family. Her arm through his was a strange sensation but he allowed her to lead him through, taking in all of the finery with his lips parted though he managed to keep his jaw from dropping entirely. He had no idea that such excess existed anywhere in the world, even stories of it couldn't properly do it justice and he paused before following her in, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"I fear I may need to beg your guidance this evening, this is nothing like what I am accustomed to."
It was a moment of weakness and he hated showing it to anyone, especially a woman like this who seemed so entirely self assured and confident as if nothing could shake her. She belonged here, that much was clear with her gleaming skin and shining eyes, the ease with which she carried herself among the people and things that held such luxury.
"I follow you, my lady."
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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He saw Kleio approaching and his face melted into a smile as she approached, far more at ease than he had been before the fights when she had spoken to him in the carriage. As she kissed his cheek he felt a blush of heat spread over his skin and he once again had to fight to keep his eyes from drifting over her exposed skin. It was thanks to Arkos joining them and giving his own bow of introduction that he managed to pull himself together once more. Looking to his companion with a raised brow as she all but dismissed the other man, Demetrius gave a shrug and nodded as the other man took his leave with a wink thrown in his direction. His cheeks flamed again at the other man's cheekiness but he cleared his throat and turned his attention to Kleio once again as she claimed his attention.
She was so very slight in comparison to him, and her skin seemed so much smoother and delicate than anything he'd ever seen. Even Olena's hands had been rough in comparison, but that thought was not one he could manage right now. Not when, he had to admit, this woman was his best chance to find his lost family. Her arm through his was a strange sensation but he allowed her to lead him through, taking in all of the finery with his lips parted though he managed to keep his jaw from dropping entirely. He had no idea that such excess existed anywhere in the world, even stories of it couldn't properly do it justice and he paused before following her in, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"I fear I may need to beg your guidance this evening, this is nothing like what I am accustomed to."
It was a moment of weakness and he hated showing it to anyone, especially a woman like this who seemed so entirely self assured and confident as if nothing could shake her. She belonged here, that much was clear with her gleaming skin and shining eyes, the ease with which she carried herself among the people and things that held such luxury.
"I follow you, my lady."
He saw Kleio approaching and his face melted into a smile as she approached, far more at ease than he had been before the fights when she had spoken to him in the carriage. As she kissed his cheek he felt a blush of heat spread over his skin and he once again had to fight to keep his eyes from drifting over her exposed skin. It was thanks to Arkos joining them and giving his own bow of introduction that he managed to pull himself together once more. Looking to his companion with a raised brow as she all but dismissed the other man, Demetrius gave a shrug and nodded as the other man took his leave with a wink thrown in his direction. His cheeks flamed again at the other man's cheekiness but he cleared his throat and turned his attention to Kleio once again as she claimed his attention.
She was so very slight in comparison to him, and her skin seemed so much smoother and delicate than anything he'd ever seen. Even Olena's hands had been rough in comparison, but that thought was not one he could manage right now. Not when, he had to admit, this woman was his best chance to find his lost family. Her arm through his was a strange sensation but he allowed her to lead him through, taking in all of the finery with his lips parted though he managed to keep his jaw from dropping entirely. He had no idea that such excess existed anywhere in the world, even stories of it couldn't properly do it justice and he paused before following her in, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"I fear I may need to beg your guidance this evening, this is nothing like what I am accustomed to."
It was a moment of weakness and he hated showing it to anyone, especially a woman like this who seemed so entirely self assured and confident as if nothing could shake her. She belonged here, that much was clear with her gleaming skin and shining eyes, the ease with which she carried herself among the people and things that held such luxury.
"I follow you, my lady."
Demetrius's companion didn't seem very broken hearted about not staying with them.. in fact, the words barely left her mouth before he gave his friend a wry smile and wandered off to partake in the festivities on his own. And his companion seemed far more eager to explore than Dima who stared up and around in wide-eyed wonder and curiosity. He allowed her to take his arm; even asking her to guide him and she smiled brightly as they followed the throng of people into the main foyer of the palace. "I don't imagine it is.."
The palace was well lit with lamps and candles; there were sconces of fire against the walls that flickered eerie light around the room; giving it an unearthly glow where shadows danced with the sinners. Around them people in all shades of finery talked and laughed; they drank and flirted and hung seductively against each other. The air was thick with perfumed oils like the kind Kleio wore and the staff of scarcely dressed men wandered around offering fresh glasses of wine and delicacies on silver platters.... silver being rare in and of itself. Kleio stopped one of them and plucked up a glass; handing it to Demetrius before she took one for herself. "It isn't always like this... it's usually much more peaceful... but the festivities and all..." She led him forward towards the main hall where there were chaise lounges and large beds of thick pillows strewn on the floor. Entertainers wove around the furniture as the social elite enjoyed each other. It was loud and to someone so new it could definitely be overwhelming. People stared and whispered as they looked at him and there were questions as to who he was. In the middle of the room, she stopped and turned to look at him as she took a sip of her wine; silent permission for him to do the same. "Tell me where you'd like me to lead you, Demetrius of Cimmeria... There's a lot to do. Would you like a tour? Or perhaps to eat? ...There are dancers and singers and fire-throwers.. we could watch the entertainment. I could introduce you to influential people who could finance your interests.. There are places to sit and watch it all, or the gardens are a bit quieter if all of this is too much.. "
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and stepped up to meet him; raising her chin so she still met his gaze. He was taller than her and she liked that. And she couldn't help to rest her hand against his chest; leaning into him as she spoke. "I want you to have a good time... let yourself be free of your daily concerns. That's what the feast is all about. For one night... do what you want to do... not what is required of you. Then tomorrow, go back to your normal life. Tonight you get to see how revered your status is... not from the stands. From the highest rungs of society. The only step up is Olympus."
She was inches away again; having positioned herself again as she had in the carriage until she was close enough to only see his face. Save instead of his eyes, she was staring at his lips; wondering what they tasted like. Were they honeyed with the taste of wine? Sweet like the grapes harvested in the fields of Attia? Her face flushed deliciously with the thought of it and she closed her eyes as she took a shaky breath; sinking down onto her heel again to put some distance between them. She leaned back and took a longer drink from her glass; with two beneath her, she needed to tread more lightly. But she liked the heady feeling she had with him.. the wine that seemed only to enhance it. She was being forward.. But Kleio didn't like playing games when it came to seduction and attraction. There was no reason two people shouldn't be together if they were attracted to each other. ...And Demetrius was deliciously attractive. Beyond his skill and prowess in the arena; his speed and agility that kept him alive, he was lean and cut well with bright blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. And there was an underlying darkness to his gaze that spoke of experience in the world; in seeing more than he'd needed to see and living through more than anyone deserved to live through. She wanted his secrets; his confessions. She wanted to understand what motivated him. Some men were turned off by a woman with too much experience.. ones that took matters into their own hands. She'd lost many lovers after they'd wanted more than she could give. But there were those who didn't mind her advances; enjoyed having such an attractive woman interested in them. She wasn't like some of the more prudish women at court who shied away and let men chase them. If she liked something, she went after it. And she would employ any means necessary to have it.
Demetrius was of no exception.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Demetrius's companion didn't seem very broken hearted about not staying with them.. in fact, the words barely left her mouth before he gave his friend a wry smile and wandered off to partake in the festivities on his own. And his companion seemed far more eager to explore than Dima who stared up and around in wide-eyed wonder and curiosity. He allowed her to take his arm; even asking her to guide him and she smiled brightly as they followed the throng of people into the main foyer of the palace. "I don't imagine it is.."
The palace was well lit with lamps and candles; there were sconces of fire against the walls that flickered eerie light around the room; giving it an unearthly glow where shadows danced with the sinners. Around them people in all shades of finery talked and laughed; they drank and flirted and hung seductively against each other. The air was thick with perfumed oils like the kind Kleio wore and the staff of scarcely dressed men wandered around offering fresh glasses of wine and delicacies on silver platters.... silver being rare in and of itself. Kleio stopped one of them and plucked up a glass; handing it to Demetrius before she took one for herself. "It isn't always like this... it's usually much more peaceful... but the festivities and all..." She led him forward towards the main hall where there were chaise lounges and large beds of thick pillows strewn on the floor. Entertainers wove around the furniture as the social elite enjoyed each other. It was loud and to someone so new it could definitely be overwhelming. People stared and whispered as they looked at him and there were questions as to who he was. In the middle of the room, she stopped and turned to look at him as she took a sip of her wine; silent permission for him to do the same. "Tell me where you'd like me to lead you, Demetrius of Cimmeria... There's a lot to do. Would you like a tour? Or perhaps to eat? ...There are dancers and singers and fire-throwers.. we could watch the entertainment. I could introduce you to influential people who could finance your interests.. There are places to sit and watch it all, or the gardens are a bit quieter if all of this is too much.. "
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and stepped up to meet him; raising her chin so she still met his gaze. He was taller than her and she liked that. And she couldn't help to rest her hand against his chest; leaning into him as she spoke. "I want you to have a good time... let yourself be free of your daily concerns. That's what the feast is all about. For one night... do what you want to do... not what is required of you. Then tomorrow, go back to your normal life. Tonight you get to see how revered your status is... not from the stands. From the highest rungs of society. The only step up is Olympus."
She was inches away again; having positioned herself again as she had in the carriage until she was close enough to only see his face. Save instead of his eyes, she was staring at his lips; wondering what they tasted like. Were they honeyed with the taste of wine? Sweet like the grapes harvested in the fields of Attia? Her face flushed deliciously with the thought of it and she closed her eyes as she took a shaky breath; sinking down onto her heel again to put some distance between them. She leaned back and took a longer drink from her glass; with two beneath her, she needed to tread more lightly. But she liked the heady feeling she had with him.. the wine that seemed only to enhance it. She was being forward.. But Kleio didn't like playing games when it came to seduction and attraction. There was no reason two people shouldn't be together if they were attracted to each other. ...And Demetrius was deliciously attractive. Beyond his skill and prowess in the arena; his speed and agility that kept him alive, he was lean and cut well with bright blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. And there was an underlying darkness to his gaze that spoke of experience in the world; in seeing more than he'd needed to see and living through more than anyone deserved to live through. She wanted his secrets; his confessions. She wanted to understand what motivated him. Some men were turned off by a woman with too much experience.. ones that took matters into their own hands. She'd lost many lovers after they'd wanted more than she could give. But there were those who didn't mind her advances; enjoyed having such an attractive woman interested in them. She wasn't like some of the more prudish women at court who shied away and let men chase them. If she liked something, she went after it. And she would employ any means necessary to have it.
Demetrius was of no exception.
Demetrius's companion didn't seem very broken hearted about not staying with them.. in fact, the words barely left her mouth before he gave his friend a wry smile and wandered off to partake in the festivities on his own. And his companion seemed far more eager to explore than Dima who stared up and around in wide-eyed wonder and curiosity. He allowed her to take his arm; even asking her to guide him and she smiled brightly as they followed the throng of people into the main foyer of the palace. "I don't imagine it is.."
The palace was well lit with lamps and candles; there were sconces of fire against the walls that flickered eerie light around the room; giving it an unearthly glow where shadows danced with the sinners. Around them people in all shades of finery talked and laughed; they drank and flirted and hung seductively against each other. The air was thick with perfumed oils like the kind Kleio wore and the staff of scarcely dressed men wandered around offering fresh glasses of wine and delicacies on silver platters.... silver being rare in and of itself. Kleio stopped one of them and plucked up a glass; handing it to Demetrius before she took one for herself. "It isn't always like this... it's usually much more peaceful... but the festivities and all..." She led him forward towards the main hall where there were chaise lounges and large beds of thick pillows strewn on the floor. Entertainers wove around the furniture as the social elite enjoyed each other. It was loud and to someone so new it could definitely be overwhelming. People stared and whispered as they looked at him and there were questions as to who he was. In the middle of the room, she stopped and turned to look at him as she took a sip of her wine; silent permission for him to do the same. "Tell me where you'd like me to lead you, Demetrius of Cimmeria... There's a lot to do. Would you like a tour? Or perhaps to eat? ...There are dancers and singers and fire-throwers.. we could watch the entertainment. I could introduce you to influential people who could finance your interests.. There are places to sit and watch it all, or the gardens are a bit quieter if all of this is too much.. "
She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and stepped up to meet him; raising her chin so she still met his gaze. He was taller than her and she liked that. And she couldn't help to rest her hand against his chest; leaning into him as she spoke. "I want you to have a good time... let yourself be free of your daily concerns. That's what the feast is all about. For one night... do what you want to do... not what is required of you. Then tomorrow, go back to your normal life. Tonight you get to see how revered your status is... not from the stands. From the highest rungs of society. The only step up is Olympus."
She was inches away again; having positioned herself again as she had in the carriage until she was close enough to only see his face. Save instead of his eyes, she was staring at his lips; wondering what they tasted like. Were they honeyed with the taste of wine? Sweet like the grapes harvested in the fields of Attia? Her face flushed deliciously with the thought of it and she closed her eyes as she took a shaky breath; sinking down onto her heel again to put some distance between them. She leaned back and took a longer drink from her glass; with two beneath her, she needed to tread more lightly. But she liked the heady feeling she had with him.. the wine that seemed only to enhance it. She was being forward.. But Kleio didn't like playing games when it came to seduction and attraction. There was no reason two people shouldn't be together if they were attracted to each other. ...And Demetrius was deliciously attractive. Beyond his skill and prowess in the arena; his speed and agility that kept him alive, he was lean and cut well with bright blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. And there was an underlying darkness to his gaze that spoke of experience in the world; in seeing more than he'd needed to see and living through more than anyone deserved to live through. She wanted his secrets; his confessions. She wanted to understand what motivated him. Some men were turned off by a woman with too much experience.. ones that took matters into their own hands. She'd lost many lovers after they'd wanted more than she could give. But there were those who didn't mind her advances; enjoyed having such an attractive woman interested in them. She wasn't like some of the more prudish women at court who shied away and let men chase them. If she liked something, she went after it. And she would employ any means necessary to have it.
Demetrius was of no exception.
Demetrius felt as if he could become intoxicated just from breathing the air in the palace as they wandered deeper into the halls. With the warm guidance of Kleio, he accepted the cup of wine from her and took a drink after her, allowing himself for a moment to get lost in the flavor of the wine. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, even more than the drink from her carriage earlier in the day paled in comparison and he had to stop himself from tipping it all back into his mouth at once and ask for more. These luxuries were entirely new to him, and while on one hand he felt guilt for enjoying himself while he still had no idea if those he loved were dead or alive, her beauty and the heady scent of perfumes in the air combined with the drink was dragging him down into the headspace of the festival. No one knew him here, why could he not for one night let himself enjoy what was offered.
"With so many choices how am I to decide?"
He smiled down at her, trying to push away the feeling of being overwhelmed as she had mentioned. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that much at least he was appreciating. He couldn't waste it by hiding away afraid, but before he could speak again she was leaning into his chest once more, and this time he placed one of his hands over her own as it rested against him. The heat of her palm through his chiton was something he'd been lacking, her touch was gentle and soft whereas his most recent partners had been rough. It was tempting to do the taking for once, if she was offering. Her gaze on his lips was not missed, and he took the opportunity to trace his tongue lightly and ever so quickly against them as if chasing a stray drop of wine.
With his hand remaining over hers as she slowly returned to the flats of her feet, he let out a breath of his own and cleared his throat slightly. Ripping his gaze away, he looked around the room as he took another sip of the wine, pad of his thumb gently brushing against the side of her palm in a seemingly mindless motion, Dima pondered exactly what the first move should be. He could spend time getting to know people, trying to muster up patrons and support. That would be the wise thing to do. But the thought of allowing himself to indulge in the luxury that was being offered to him for one night only was too tempting to resist.
"Shall we begin with a tour and see where the night takes us?"
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Demetrius felt as if he could become intoxicated just from breathing the air in the palace as they wandered deeper into the halls. With the warm guidance of Kleio, he accepted the cup of wine from her and took a drink after her, allowing himself for a moment to get lost in the flavor of the wine. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, even more than the drink from her carriage earlier in the day paled in comparison and he had to stop himself from tipping it all back into his mouth at once and ask for more. These luxuries were entirely new to him, and while on one hand he felt guilt for enjoying himself while he still had no idea if those he loved were dead or alive, her beauty and the heady scent of perfumes in the air combined with the drink was dragging him down into the headspace of the festival. No one knew him here, why could he not for one night let himself enjoy what was offered.
"With so many choices how am I to decide?"
He smiled down at her, trying to push away the feeling of being overwhelmed as she had mentioned. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that much at least he was appreciating. He couldn't waste it by hiding away afraid, but before he could speak again she was leaning into his chest once more, and this time he placed one of his hands over her own as it rested against him. The heat of her palm through his chiton was something he'd been lacking, her touch was gentle and soft whereas his most recent partners had been rough. It was tempting to do the taking for once, if she was offering. Her gaze on his lips was not missed, and he took the opportunity to trace his tongue lightly and ever so quickly against them as if chasing a stray drop of wine.
With his hand remaining over hers as she slowly returned to the flats of her feet, he let out a breath of his own and cleared his throat slightly. Ripping his gaze away, he looked around the room as he took another sip of the wine, pad of his thumb gently brushing against the side of her palm in a seemingly mindless motion, Dima pondered exactly what the first move should be. He could spend time getting to know people, trying to muster up patrons and support. That would be the wise thing to do. But the thought of allowing himself to indulge in the luxury that was being offered to him for one night only was too tempting to resist.
"Shall we begin with a tour and see where the night takes us?"
Demetrius felt as if he could become intoxicated just from breathing the air in the palace as they wandered deeper into the halls. With the warm guidance of Kleio, he accepted the cup of wine from her and took a drink after her, allowing himself for a moment to get lost in the flavor of the wine. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, even more than the drink from her carriage earlier in the day paled in comparison and he had to stop himself from tipping it all back into his mouth at once and ask for more. These luxuries were entirely new to him, and while on one hand he felt guilt for enjoying himself while he still had no idea if those he loved were dead or alive, her beauty and the heady scent of perfumes in the air combined with the drink was dragging him down into the headspace of the festival. No one knew him here, why could he not for one night let himself enjoy what was offered.
"With so many choices how am I to decide?"
He smiled down at her, trying to push away the feeling of being overwhelmed as she had mentioned. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that much at least he was appreciating. He couldn't waste it by hiding away afraid, but before he could speak again she was leaning into his chest once more, and this time he placed one of his hands over her own as it rested against him. The heat of her palm through his chiton was something he'd been lacking, her touch was gentle and soft whereas his most recent partners had been rough. It was tempting to do the taking for once, if she was offering. Her gaze on his lips was not missed, and he took the opportunity to trace his tongue lightly and ever so quickly against them as if chasing a stray drop of wine.
With his hand remaining over hers as she slowly returned to the flats of her feet, he let out a breath of his own and cleared his throat slightly. Ripping his gaze away, he looked around the room as he took another sip of the wine, pad of his thumb gently brushing against the side of her palm in a seemingly mindless motion, Dima pondered exactly what the first move should be. He could spend time getting to know people, trying to muster up patrons and support. That would be the wise thing to do. But the thought of allowing himself to indulge in the luxury that was being offered to him for one night only was too tempting to resist.
"Shall we begin with a tour and see where the night takes us?"
Demetrius seemed more at east that evening than he had in the carriage. Perhaps it was his victory in the ring, but his gaze wasn’t as suspicious as it was earlier. As if she was somehow making a joke out of him being here when nothing could be further from the truth. She had everything to gain in an alliance with him and nothing to lose. And so she was at his mercy. She wanted only for him to be content with her and with is surroundings; it was the only way he would ever consider her proposal later. Even speaking of such things now was treasonous. She had to be sure he was aligned with her; with Elias.
His hand fell over hers; warm and hard. His palms were rough in comparison to her oil rubbed skin, but she liked it. It was a sign of hard work and years of training in his craft which was something she would need from him. No ordinary solder would do. She needed someone who’d fought for survival...not because a rich lord told him to. Diomedes was that person.
He looked about; considering his options and Kleio watched him. She was at his disposal. If he chose to chat with wealthy dignitaries all night, she would oblige him. Even if she would have been bored out of her mind. If he chose to watch the entertainment then at least they would be stationary; she could talk to him; share drinks and food… and a tour? Well…. There were any number of corners in the palace to tuck away into out of the public eye. In her opinion, it was the only thing better than watching the entertainment… even if it was quite engaging.
Luckily for her, Dima seemed to agree with her; deciding on a tour. Twisting her fingers; she curled hers around his and drew it down to their side. “A tour then…” She smiled and turned; leading him by the hand through the crowded room full of tipsy festival goers and out onto the open air portico that overlooked the garden. The palace was built above the elaborate mazes of shrubs and fruit trees and massive columns held the pediment above them aloft. Between each column were large pots with an orange tree in each and along the walls were stone busts of mortals and men equally spaced along the length of the palace wall. It was less crowded out here and the breeze from the sea that the portico overlooked from afar was refreshing. The moon shone brightly; illuminating that which the lamps did not; casting a soft blue light over the gardens, the high white walls and the sea beyond.
Once they were free of the crowds, she slowed and walked beside him instead of leading him; her bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floors. She led him down the corridor of the portico as she spoke. “These are the palace gardens. The orange trees were imported from across the Aegean sea as a gift from Minas to his new bride. Some have said they have aphrodisiac qualities.. Personally, I believe they’re sweetest in the spring though I can’t tell you if the rumors are true.." She glanced up at him; her mouth curving up with a bit of humor. She held her cup of wine casually between the thumb and forefinger of both of her hands in front of her. “The gardens are maintained daily and the view out onto the ocean is….breathtaking at sunset.”
She stopped for a time to let him take it all in and ask any questions he might have before continuing on down the corridor. She ducked into a side room that was open to the air. At the moment it was deserted, but the sconces along the walls were lit, as well as tall fire bowls at the center of the room. Here there were more statues; a great collection in a vast room with black and white marble tile floors. The figures looked eerily lifelike in the flickering shadows, but they were silent. She left his side to venture forward into the room; sliding around the room as she drew her hand along the stone arm of a woman in flowing robes. The palace collection of marble.. “It’s rumored that the Princess wooed Androkles to fight for her by having a statue cast of him… were you aware?” She turned and looked back at him curiously as she lifted the glass to drink again. She rather liked having him on her own; away from the pomp and fanfare. And with so many inhibitions lost that night, it was doubtful that anyone would notice. But if they did, they were likely doing far worse. “What rumors of the royal family have you heard that I may confirm or dispel…?” She knew that to the lower wards, the palace was rather off limits and perhaps it was best that way. They had to talk, however.. Of what lay beyond those great walls. And now Demetrius walked inside of them; taking everything in. She wondered if it was as majestic as he thought, or if he found it all lacking so far.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Demetrius seemed more at east that evening than he had in the carriage. Perhaps it was his victory in the ring, but his gaze wasn’t as suspicious as it was earlier. As if she was somehow making a joke out of him being here when nothing could be further from the truth. She had everything to gain in an alliance with him and nothing to lose. And so she was at his mercy. She wanted only for him to be content with her and with is surroundings; it was the only way he would ever consider her proposal later. Even speaking of such things now was treasonous. She had to be sure he was aligned with her; with Elias.
His hand fell over hers; warm and hard. His palms were rough in comparison to her oil rubbed skin, but she liked it. It was a sign of hard work and years of training in his craft which was something she would need from him. No ordinary solder would do. She needed someone who’d fought for survival...not because a rich lord told him to. Diomedes was that person.
He looked about; considering his options and Kleio watched him. She was at his disposal. If he chose to chat with wealthy dignitaries all night, she would oblige him. Even if she would have been bored out of her mind. If he chose to watch the entertainment then at least they would be stationary; she could talk to him; share drinks and food… and a tour? Well…. There were any number of corners in the palace to tuck away into out of the public eye. In her opinion, it was the only thing better than watching the entertainment… even if it was quite engaging.
Luckily for her, Dima seemed to agree with her; deciding on a tour. Twisting her fingers; she curled hers around his and drew it down to their side. “A tour then…” She smiled and turned; leading him by the hand through the crowded room full of tipsy festival goers and out onto the open air portico that overlooked the garden. The palace was built above the elaborate mazes of shrubs and fruit trees and massive columns held the pediment above them aloft. Between each column were large pots with an orange tree in each and along the walls were stone busts of mortals and men equally spaced along the length of the palace wall. It was less crowded out here and the breeze from the sea that the portico overlooked from afar was refreshing. The moon shone brightly; illuminating that which the lamps did not; casting a soft blue light over the gardens, the high white walls and the sea beyond.
Once they were free of the crowds, she slowed and walked beside him instead of leading him; her bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floors. She led him down the corridor of the portico as she spoke. “These are the palace gardens. The orange trees were imported from across the Aegean sea as a gift from Minas to his new bride. Some have said they have aphrodisiac qualities.. Personally, I believe they’re sweetest in the spring though I can’t tell you if the rumors are true.." She glanced up at him; her mouth curving up with a bit of humor. She held her cup of wine casually between the thumb and forefinger of both of her hands in front of her. “The gardens are maintained daily and the view out onto the ocean is….breathtaking at sunset.”
She stopped for a time to let him take it all in and ask any questions he might have before continuing on down the corridor. She ducked into a side room that was open to the air. At the moment it was deserted, but the sconces along the walls were lit, as well as tall fire bowls at the center of the room. Here there were more statues; a great collection in a vast room with black and white marble tile floors. The figures looked eerily lifelike in the flickering shadows, but they were silent. She left his side to venture forward into the room; sliding around the room as she drew her hand along the stone arm of a woman in flowing robes. The palace collection of marble.. “It’s rumored that the Princess wooed Androkles to fight for her by having a statue cast of him… were you aware?” She turned and looked back at him curiously as she lifted the glass to drink again. She rather liked having him on her own; away from the pomp and fanfare. And with so many inhibitions lost that night, it was doubtful that anyone would notice. But if they did, they were likely doing far worse. “What rumors of the royal family have you heard that I may confirm or dispel…?” She knew that to the lower wards, the palace was rather off limits and perhaps it was best that way. They had to talk, however.. Of what lay beyond those great walls. And now Demetrius walked inside of them; taking everything in. She wondered if it was as majestic as he thought, or if he found it all lacking so far.
Demetrius seemed more at east that evening than he had in the carriage. Perhaps it was his victory in the ring, but his gaze wasn’t as suspicious as it was earlier. As if she was somehow making a joke out of him being here when nothing could be further from the truth. She had everything to gain in an alliance with him and nothing to lose. And so she was at his mercy. She wanted only for him to be content with her and with is surroundings; it was the only way he would ever consider her proposal later. Even speaking of such things now was treasonous. She had to be sure he was aligned with her; with Elias.
His hand fell over hers; warm and hard. His palms were rough in comparison to her oil rubbed skin, but she liked it. It was a sign of hard work and years of training in his craft which was something she would need from him. No ordinary solder would do. She needed someone who’d fought for survival...not because a rich lord told him to. Diomedes was that person.
He looked about; considering his options and Kleio watched him. She was at his disposal. If he chose to chat with wealthy dignitaries all night, she would oblige him. Even if she would have been bored out of her mind. If he chose to watch the entertainment then at least they would be stationary; she could talk to him; share drinks and food… and a tour? Well…. There were any number of corners in the palace to tuck away into out of the public eye. In her opinion, it was the only thing better than watching the entertainment… even if it was quite engaging.
Luckily for her, Dima seemed to agree with her; deciding on a tour. Twisting her fingers; she curled hers around his and drew it down to their side. “A tour then…” She smiled and turned; leading him by the hand through the crowded room full of tipsy festival goers and out onto the open air portico that overlooked the garden. The palace was built above the elaborate mazes of shrubs and fruit trees and massive columns held the pediment above them aloft. Between each column were large pots with an orange tree in each and along the walls were stone busts of mortals and men equally spaced along the length of the palace wall. It was less crowded out here and the breeze from the sea that the portico overlooked from afar was refreshing. The moon shone brightly; illuminating that which the lamps did not; casting a soft blue light over the gardens, the high white walls and the sea beyond.
Once they were free of the crowds, she slowed and walked beside him instead of leading him; her bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floors. She led him down the corridor of the portico as she spoke. “These are the palace gardens. The orange trees were imported from across the Aegean sea as a gift from Minas to his new bride. Some have said they have aphrodisiac qualities.. Personally, I believe they’re sweetest in the spring though I can’t tell you if the rumors are true.." She glanced up at him; her mouth curving up with a bit of humor. She held her cup of wine casually between the thumb and forefinger of both of her hands in front of her. “The gardens are maintained daily and the view out onto the ocean is….breathtaking at sunset.”
She stopped for a time to let him take it all in and ask any questions he might have before continuing on down the corridor. She ducked into a side room that was open to the air. At the moment it was deserted, but the sconces along the walls were lit, as well as tall fire bowls at the center of the room. Here there were more statues; a great collection in a vast room with black and white marble tile floors. The figures looked eerily lifelike in the flickering shadows, but they were silent. She left his side to venture forward into the room; sliding around the room as she drew her hand along the stone arm of a woman in flowing robes. The palace collection of marble.. “It’s rumored that the Princess wooed Androkles to fight for her by having a statue cast of him… were you aware?” She turned and looked back at him curiously as she lifted the glass to drink again. She rather liked having him on her own; away from the pomp and fanfare. And with so many inhibitions lost that night, it was doubtful that anyone would notice. But if they did, they were likely doing far worse. “What rumors of the royal family have you heard that I may confirm or dispel…?” She knew that to the lower wards, the palace was rather off limits and perhaps it was best that way. They had to talk, however.. Of what lay beyond those great walls. And now Demetrius walked inside of them; taking everything in. She wondered if it was as majestic as he thought, or if he found it all lacking so far.
In contrast to the silent padding of her bare feet, his sandals seemed to echo off every surfaced they crossed until they reached the garden and he was drawn to a halt. He had seen beautiful things before, gardens and the ocean, but this was something entirely different. Releasing his hold on her he allowed her to walk forward as he took in the sight of the rising moon reflecting on the waters as if it was made of silver. Somewhere across that sea, somewhere far beyond his sight, was the land where he had grown up. Olbia seemed both impossibly far and just out of reach, as if he squinted he could see his family once again.
"I can see why they are called so. And why the oranges grown here might be an aphrodisiac. It is beautiful."
Demetrius was silent for a moment as she allowed him his time to look out over the sea before he tore his gaze away and looked to her once more with an apologetic smile for being such a bumpkin for a moment. Holding his arm out to her once more, he waited until she had taken it again before following her lead into the side room full of statues. He watched as she moved among the statues, stunning enough to be cast in marble alongside all of them though there was something enticing about her warm supple skin that could not be replicated.
"I wasn't. I fear that I am a failure when it comes to listening to the gossip and rumors of the arena. Most of the time I worry about getting out alive."
It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if a statue of Androkles was raised somewhere in the arena or anywhere in the city. The man was a great fighter, and Dima was lucky that he had never had to be put against him in a battle to death. He knew full well the other man would be his downfall. No matter how swift he was, that was a man who was faster.
"I confess again, I think very little of the royal family. My thoughts are occupied with finding the family I lost. As long as I can eat and have a place to search, what others do is rarely my business."
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In contrast to the silent padding of her bare feet, his sandals seemed to echo off every surfaced they crossed until they reached the garden and he was drawn to a halt. He had seen beautiful things before, gardens and the ocean, but this was something entirely different. Releasing his hold on her he allowed her to walk forward as he took in the sight of the rising moon reflecting on the waters as if it was made of silver. Somewhere across that sea, somewhere far beyond his sight, was the land where he had grown up. Olbia seemed both impossibly far and just out of reach, as if he squinted he could see his family once again.
"I can see why they are called so. And why the oranges grown here might be an aphrodisiac. It is beautiful."
Demetrius was silent for a moment as she allowed him his time to look out over the sea before he tore his gaze away and looked to her once more with an apologetic smile for being such a bumpkin for a moment. Holding his arm out to her once more, he waited until she had taken it again before following her lead into the side room full of statues. He watched as she moved among the statues, stunning enough to be cast in marble alongside all of them though there was something enticing about her warm supple skin that could not be replicated.
"I wasn't. I fear that I am a failure when it comes to listening to the gossip and rumors of the arena. Most of the time I worry about getting out alive."
It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if a statue of Androkles was raised somewhere in the arena or anywhere in the city. The man was a great fighter, and Dima was lucky that he had never had to be put against him in a battle to death. He knew full well the other man would be his downfall. No matter how swift he was, that was a man who was faster.
"I confess again, I think very little of the royal family. My thoughts are occupied with finding the family I lost. As long as I can eat and have a place to search, what others do is rarely my business."
In contrast to the silent padding of her bare feet, his sandals seemed to echo off every surfaced they crossed until they reached the garden and he was drawn to a halt. He had seen beautiful things before, gardens and the ocean, but this was something entirely different. Releasing his hold on her he allowed her to walk forward as he took in the sight of the rising moon reflecting on the waters as if it was made of silver. Somewhere across that sea, somewhere far beyond his sight, was the land where he had grown up. Olbia seemed both impossibly far and just out of reach, as if he squinted he could see his family once again.
"I can see why they are called so. And why the oranges grown here might be an aphrodisiac. It is beautiful."
Demetrius was silent for a moment as she allowed him his time to look out over the sea before he tore his gaze away and looked to her once more with an apologetic smile for being such a bumpkin for a moment. Holding his arm out to her once more, he waited until she had taken it again before following her lead into the side room full of statues. He watched as she moved among the statues, stunning enough to be cast in marble alongside all of them though there was something enticing about her warm supple skin that could not be replicated.
"I wasn't. I fear that I am a failure when it comes to listening to the gossip and rumors of the arena. Most of the time I worry about getting out alive."
It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if a statue of Androkles was raised somewhere in the arena or anywhere in the city. The man was a great fighter, and Dima was lucky that he had never had to be put against him in a battle to death. He knew full well the other man would be his downfall. No matter how swift he was, that was a man who was faster.
"I confess again, I think very little of the royal family. My thoughts are occupied with finding the family I lost. As long as I can eat and have a place to search, what others do is rarely my business."
The opulence of the palace was meant to overwhelm visitors. It was it’s intended purpose, after all, and the amount of decor and fanfare that had been poured into the night's events only made it that much more stunning. Kleio was accustomed to seeing the taken aback expressions of people who’d never been before. She rather liked it. It was a shame people would come to such an opulent show of wealth and prestige and not be struck by its majesty. Dima’s reaction was endearing. She rather liked that he was rendered speechless by the view alone and so letting him sit and admire the natural beauty of Athenia from atop the hill was no inconvenience.
When he finally tore his attention away enough to follow her, she’d made it her mission to show him more; to keep that look of silent wonder upon his face. In the room laden with marble statues, she watched as he looked around, but his attention was more upon her now and she felt her cheeks flush with it. Maybe it was the wine. Either way, she liked when he looked at her.
As he informed her he had no thoughts of the royals or of Androkles statue, Kleio left hers and went back to him; resting a hand on his forearm. “You needn’t feel bad. It’s refreshing that you don’t have preconceived notions. It means anything you learn here you’ve formed an opinion of without outside influence..” she paused and offered him a disarming smile before sliding her hand down his arm to take his; tugging him a bit so they could continue their tour. “You mentioned your family… How were they lost?”
Kleio was no stranger to loss. She’d lost her own family almost five years ago in a horrifying fire. In a way, she was glad they were gone. Had they lived and been lost, she would always search for them. But she’d seen them burn. She knew there was nothing more to search for. And while the terror still lingered in every flicker of flame, never knowing would have been so much worse.
She walked with him as he spoke; listening as they moved slowly down a dark corridor. The marble walls and floor were smooth and cool. Their next room was the throne room where Minas received those who wished to supplicate themselves to him. And while those days had been numbered, the room was still rather magnificent; even if only in the light of the moon. Far away, the music of the party echoed off the walls. But this room was off limits and so left dark to detract would be stragglers. ...Kleio knew the palace like the back of her hand, however, and as all of the guards were being utilized in other areas of the castle, the west wing was left relatively vacant.
Banners of black and silver hung from the walls and the floors were inlaid with intricate mosaic designs. The walls were plastered with great reliefs and the room smelled thick of incense long after it’d burned away. When their conversation about his family came to a natural pause, Kleio turned to him and looked behind her should at the room. “This is the throne room…. This is where King Minas sits to receive his people and hear their grievances.”
Her voice echoed off of the walls; even as she spoke softly. The tall ceiling was held aloft by great pillars and was decorated with reliefs of battles long since fought detailing the Xanthos house’s many accomplishments. Kleio let his hand go and plucked up Dima’s wine glass; turning away from him to pad across the expanse of mosaic floors. At a cabinet on the far side of the room, she uncorked a decanter of wine and refilled their glasses. The rich earthy scent of the ceremonial alcohol was pungent and she closed her eyes; reveling in it. She returned the decanter and then walked back to him; both glasses full in hand. “Try this… It’s used in ceremonial meetings… some consider it to have magical properties. ...I find it to be rather hypnotic and intensifies pleasure….”
She offered him the chalice of opium-laced wine as she took a sip of her own. Her eyes remained on his over the lip of the cup. He’d come all this way; partaken of every invitation she’d given thus far. ...Would he deny her now?
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This post was created by our staff team.
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The opulence of the palace was meant to overwhelm visitors. It was it’s intended purpose, after all, and the amount of decor and fanfare that had been poured into the night's events only made it that much more stunning. Kleio was accustomed to seeing the taken aback expressions of people who’d never been before. She rather liked it. It was a shame people would come to such an opulent show of wealth and prestige and not be struck by its majesty. Dima’s reaction was endearing. She rather liked that he was rendered speechless by the view alone and so letting him sit and admire the natural beauty of Athenia from atop the hill was no inconvenience.
When he finally tore his attention away enough to follow her, she’d made it her mission to show him more; to keep that look of silent wonder upon his face. In the room laden with marble statues, she watched as he looked around, but his attention was more upon her now and she felt her cheeks flush with it. Maybe it was the wine. Either way, she liked when he looked at her.
As he informed her he had no thoughts of the royals or of Androkles statue, Kleio left hers and went back to him; resting a hand on his forearm. “You needn’t feel bad. It’s refreshing that you don’t have preconceived notions. It means anything you learn here you’ve formed an opinion of without outside influence..” she paused and offered him a disarming smile before sliding her hand down his arm to take his; tugging him a bit so they could continue their tour. “You mentioned your family… How were they lost?”
Kleio was no stranger to loss. She’d lost her own family almost five years ago in a horrifying fire. In a way, she was glad they were gone. Had they lived and been lost, she would always search for them. But she’d seen them burn. She knew there was nothing more to search for. And while the terror still lingered in every flicker of flame, never knowing would have been so much worse.
She walked with him as he spoke; listening as they moved slowly down a dark corridor. The marble walls and floor were smooth and cool. Their next room was the throne room where Minas received those who wished to supplicate themselves to him. And while those days had been numbered, the room was still rather magnificent; even if only in the light of the moon. Far away, the music of the party echoed off the walls. But this room was off limits and so left dark to detract would be stragglers. ...Kleio knew the palace like the back of her hand, however, and as all of the guards were being utilized in other areas of the castle, the west wing was left relatively vacant.
Banners of black and silver hung from the walls and the floors were inlaid with intricate mosaic designs. The walls were plastered with great reliefs and the room smelled thick of incense long after it’d burned away. When their conversation about his family came to a natural pause, Kleio turned to him and looked behind her should at the room. “This is the throne room…. This is where King Minas sits to receive his people and hear their grievances.”
Her voice echoed off of the walls; even as she spoke softly. The tall ceiling was held aloft by great pillars and was decorated with reliefs of battles long since fought detailing the Xanthos house’s many accomplishments. Kleio let his hand go and plucked up Dima’s wine glass; turning away from him to pad across the expanse of mosaic floors. At a cabinet on the far side of the room, she uncorked a decanter of wine and refilled their glasses. The rich earthy scent of the ceremonial alcohol was pungent and she closed her eyes; reveling in it. She returned the decanter and then walked back to him; both glasses full in hand. “Try this… It’s used in ceremonial meetings… some consider it to have magical properties. ...I find it to be rather hypnotic and intensifies pleasure….”
She offered him the chalice of opium-laced wine as she took a sip of her own. Her eyes remained on his over the lip of the cup. He’d come all this way; partaken of every invitation she’d given thus far. ...Would he deny her now?
The opulence of the palace was meant to overwhelm visitors. It was it’s intended purpose, after all, and the amount of decor and fanfare that had been poured into the night's events only made it that much more stunning. Kleio was accustomed to seeing the taken aback expressions of people who’d never been before. She rather liked it. It was a shame people would come to such an opulent show of wealth and prestige and not be struck by its majesty. Dima’s reaction was endearing. She rather liked that he was rendered speechless by the view alone and so letting him sit and admire the natural beauty of Athenia from atop the hill was no inconvenience.
When he finally tore his attention away enough to follow her, she’d made it her mission to show him more; to keep that look of silent wonder upon his face. In the room laden with marble statues, she watched as he looked around, but his attention was more upon her now and she felt her cheeks flush with it. Maybe it was the wine. Either way, she liked when he looked at her.
As he informed her he had no thoughts of the royals or of Androkles statue, Kleio left hers and went back to him; resting a hand on his forearm. “You needn’t feel bad. It’s refreshing that you don’t have preconceived notions. It means anything you learn here you’ve formed an opinion of without outside influence..” she paused and offered him a disarming smile before sliding her hand down his arm to take his; tugging him a bit so they could continue their tour. “You mentioned your family… How were they lost?”
Kleio was no stranger to loss. She’d lost her own family almost five years ago in a horrifying fire. In a way, she was glad they were gone. Had they lived and been lost, she would always search for them. But she’d seen them burn. She knew there was nothing more to search for. And while the terror still lingered in every flicker of flame, never knowing would have been so much worse.
She walked with him as he spoke; listening as they moved slowly down a dark corridor. The marble walls and floor were smooth and cool. Their next room was the throne room where Minas received those who wished to supplicate themselves to him. And while those days had been numbered, the room was still rather magnificent; even if only in the light of the moon. Far away, the music of the party echoed off the walls. But this room was off limits and so left dark to detract would be stragglers. ...Kleio knew the palace like the back of her hand, however, and as all of the guards were being utilized in other areas of the castle, the west wing was left relatively vacant.
Banners of black and silver hung from the walls and the floors were inlaid with intricate mosaic designs. The walls were plastered with great reliefs and the room smelled thick of incense long after it’d burned away. When their conversation about his family came to a natural pause, Kleio turned to him and looked behind her should at the room. “This is the throne room…. This is where King Minas sits to receive his people and hear their grievances.”
Her voice echoed off of the walls; even as she spoke softly. The tall ceiling was held aloft by great pillars and was decorated with reliefs of battles long since fought detailing the Xanthos house’s many accomplishments. Kleio let his hand go and plucked up Dima’s wine glass; turning away from him to pad across the expanse of mosaic floors. At a cabinet on the far side of the room, she uncorked a decanter of wine and refilled their glasses. The rich earthy scent of the ceremonial alcohol was pungent and she closed her eyes; reveling in it. She returned the decanter and then walked back to him; both glasses full in hand. “Try this… It’s used in ceremonial meetings… some consider it to have magical properties. ...I find it to be rather hypnotic and intensifies pleasure….”
She offered him the chalice of opium-laced wine as she took a sip of her own. Her eyes remained on his over the lip of the cup. He’d come all this way; partaken of every invitation she’d given thus far. ...Would he deny her now?
Her hand on his arm felt electric, and perhaps it was the wine that had been flowing or how entirely overwhelmed he was by the opulence of the palace and everything around him, but the more time he spent with her the more captivated he was. There was no reason for someone like her to pay any attention whatsoever to someone like him, and yet here she was, parading him around the palace, touching him and holding his hand in front of her peers as if he was something special. Even now in private, she didn't let go or seem to shy away, and though the lingering guilt and thoughts of Olena never seemed to fade, he didn't want to either.
Twisting his fingers around hers in response for the first time that night, he smiled and followed her as they wandered through the palace. His guard was down for what felt like the first time in ages and though alarm bells were ringing somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that until he was entirely comfortable with the situation he would have no rest from the instincts that fear and self-preservation had hammered into him. But as she asked about his family that smile faded and once again he felt the guilt rise again.
"Pirates. Raiders. Killed everyone except the few of us they could sell. My brother. My...." What could he call her, what could he say about Olena that would do her justice. The love of his life, his childhood sweetheart, his fiancee. All of those would be true and yet it wasn't enough to describe the loss that she was to him. "The girl I loved. We were sold. Never saw them again."
Dima was relieved when the corridor ended and Kleio took him through into another room, one that he had never expected he would be allowed to see. The throne room was immense and once again he had to stop and stare, gaping openly at the grandeur. He allowed her to take his wine glass and watched her walk for a moment before he was turning about himself trying to take in every corner of the room. That people could live in such splendor was utterly impossible to him, he had never known anything better than a small private room.
When she returned and pressed the cup into his hand once more he hesitated. Any sort of mind altering substances for him had always been reserved for pain management after an injury in the arena. He'd never tried it for a recreational or, as she called it hypnotic, purpose. Why not, he was here, would never be here again. What was the worst that could happen now. With that thought in mind, Dima lifted the goblet to her in a toast before taking a deep sip.
"And, what pleasures will we be partaking in tonight?" The wine was rich and sweet on his lips, a warmth started by the original drink spreading once again through his limbs.
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Her hand on his arm felt electric, and perhaps it was the wine that had been flowing or how entirely overwhelmed he was by the opulence of the palace and everything around him, but the more time he spent with her the more captivated he was. There was no reason for someone like her to pay any attention whatsoever to someone like him, and yet here she was, parading him around the palace, touching him and holding his hand in front of her peers as if he was something special. Even now in private, she didn't let go or seem to shy away, and though the lingering guilt and thoughts of Olena never seemed to fade, he didn't want to either.
Twisting his fingers around hers in response for the first time that night, he smiled and followed her as they wandered through the palace. His guard was down for what felt like the first time in ages and though alarm bells were ringing somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that until he was entirely comfortable with the situation he would have no rest from the instincts that fear and self-preservation had hammered into him. But as she asked about his family that smile faded and once again he felt the guilt rise again.
"Pirates. Raiders. Killed everyone except the few of us they could sell. My brother. My...." What could he call her, what could he say about Olena that would do her justice. The love of his life, his childhood sweetheart, his fiancee. All of those would be true and yet it wasn't enough to describe the loss that she was to him. "The girl I loved. We were sold. Never saw them again."
Dima was relieved when the corridor ended and Kleio took him through into another room, one that he had never expected he would be allowed to see. The throne room was immense and once again he had to stop and stare, gaping openly at the grandeur. He allowed her to take his wine glass and watched her walk for a moment before he was turning about himself trying to take in every corner of the room. That people could live in such splendor was utterly impossible to him, he had never known anything better than a small private room.
When she returned and pressed the cup into his hand once more he hesitated. Any sort of mind altering substances for him had always been reserved for pain management after an injury in the arena. He'd never tried it for a recreational or, as she called it hypnotic, purpose. Why not, he was here, would never be here again. What was the worst that could happen now. With that thought in mind, Dima lifted the goblet to her in a toast before taking a deep sip.
"And, what pleasures will we be partaking in tonight?" The wine was rich and sweet on his lips, a warmth started by the original drink spreading once again through his limbs.
Her hand on his arm felt electric, and perhaps it was the wine that had been flowing or how entirely overwhelmed he was by the opulence of the palace and everything around him, but the more time he spent with her the more captivated he was. There was no reason for someone like her to pay any attention whatsoever to someone like him, and yet here she was, parading him around the palace, touching him and holding his hand in front of her peers as if he was something special. Even now in private, she didn't let go or seem to shy away, and though the lingering guilt and thoughts of Olena never seemed to fade, he didn't want to either.
Twisting his fingers around hers in response for the first time that night, he smiled and followed her as they wandered through the palace. His guard was down for what felt like the first time in ages and though alarm bells were ringing somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that until he was entirely comfortable with the situation he would have no rest from the instincts that fear and self-preservation had hammered into him. But as she asked about his family that smile faded and once again he felt the guilt rise again.
"Pirates. Raiders. Killed everyone except the few of us they could sell. My brother. My...." What could he call her, what could he say about Olena that would do her justice. The love of his life, his childhood sweetheart, his fiancee. All of those would be true and yet it wasn't enough to describe the loss that she was to him. "The girl I loved. We were sold. Never saw them again."
Dima was relieved when the corridor ended and Kleio took him through into another room, one that he had never expected he would be allowed to see. The throne room was immense and once again he had to stop and stare, gaping openly at the grandeur. He allowed her to take his wine glass and watched her walk for a moment before he was turning about himself trying to take in every corner of the room. That people could live in such splendor was utterly impossible to him, he had never known anything better than a small private room.
When she returned and pressed the cup into his hand once more he hesitated. Any sort of mind altering substances for him had always been reserved for pain management after an injury in the arena. He'd never tried it for a recreational or, as she called it hypnotic, purpose. Why not, he was here, would never be here again. What was the worst that could happen now. With that thought in mind, Dima lifted the goblet to her in a toast before taking a deep sip.
"And, what pleasures will we be partaking in tonight?" The wine was rich and sweet on his lips, a warmth started by the original drink spreading once again through his limbs.
His story was a sad one full of love and loss. It was hard not to sympathize with the man who seemed to still carry the scars of the absence of his family in more than one place. Kleio found herself wanting to comfort him; to take away his pain but she knew that that wasn’t possible. Scars like that were never mended or forgotten and no amount of platitudes would be sufficient. They would only ever ring false. So Kleio saved those pitying words as she was sure the mercenary had no desire to have her pity. It was something he was quite used to; those long-suffering stares that told him that he was somehow a lesser person now when the fact was that it couldn’t be further from the truth. He was who he was today because of his experiences and his losses; just as she was who she was today because of hers. She didn’t want pity. It was the noble class who cast her aside; who cast her family aside after they’d lost their lands. And for their transgressions, she would stand beside Elias one day and judge them all.
She watched him as she returned from the cabinet; as his eyes roamed around the darkened room. In the light of day and when the sun shown in through the tops of the rafters, the throne room was magnificent; meant to intimidate and enthrall anyone who walked within it. In the darkness, it seemed rather cavernous and cold. But for someone seeing it for the first time, she supposed it didn’t matter either way. It was still breathtaking and the evidence of that was on Demetrius’s spellbound face.
Cup in hand, he hesitated for but a moment; his eyelids heavy and his shoulders relaxed from the glass he’d already consumed. He was far from the rigid warrior she’d met that morning; enjoying his time with her; allowing whatever came to pass to be what it was. Whatever guarded reservations he’d felt earlier in the day with her invitation had seemed to have faded away and for that, she was happy as she wished no ill will on Dima. She needed him. And she needed those he had access to. She wouldn’t do something to thwart her good intentions.
The glass lifted to his mouth, mirroring her own as he drunk of the opium-laced wine and Kleio tilted her own glass back a bit more with his acceptance. With that fourth glass, she was sure to lose whatever inhibitions she may have held a cloying hand upon. The opium was only a pleasant addition.
Lowering their glasses, he asked her of her plans and she smiled at him lazily before lacing her fingers back into his; leading him to a set of wide stairs that lead down to a lower level. The four steps dropped down into another long corridor that overlooked the gardens from the far end of the palace. “There’s a place I like to go.. It reminds me of home.” She stopped; letting him trail down another step before tugging on his hand so he turned. From the stair, she was his height and she could look into his eyes without looking up. Fingers untwined from his to trace the collar line of his fine chiton. She followed the path of her fingertips with her eyes as she stepped to the edge of the stair; the length of her golden flecked frame brushing against him. Her lips were parted and she tugged her lower one between her teeth before she looked up at his face. As if caught up in him, she spoke hastily; as if the words simply fell from her mouth. “You really are… quite handsome.” Before he could speak...before he could laugh at her for saying it or wave her comment away, she leaned forward and kissed him. Fingers curled into his robes to form a fist; holding him close as she tasted him. His mouth was rich with the flavor of wine and opium. There was a warmth in his lips that spread unto her; alighting her face and traveling like feathered caresses down her arms and back. She sucked in a breath against him; his scent wholly intoxicating. It made her light headed and greedy with desire. And for a moment she wondered if it was the opium, or if there was something to the myth about a gladiator’s virility.
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Staff Team
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This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
His story was a sad one full of love and loss. It was hard not to sympathize with the man who seemed to still carry the scars of the absence of his family in more than one place. Kleio found herself wanting to comfort him; to take away his pain but she knew that that wasn’t possible. Scars like that were never mended or forgotten and no amount of platitudes would be sufficient. They would only ever ring false. So Kleio saved those pitying words as she was sure the mercenary had no desire to have her pity. It was something he was quite used to; those long-suffering stares that told him that he was somehow a lesser person now when the fact was that it couldn’t be further from the truth. He was who he was today because of his experiences and his losses; just as she was who she was today because of hers. She didn’t want pity. It was the noble class who cast her aside; who cast her family aside after they’d lost their lands. And for their transgressions, she would stand beside Elias one day and judge them all.
She watched him as she returned from the cabinet; as his eyes roamed around the darkened room. In the light of day and when the sun shown in through the tops of the rafters, the throne room was magnificent; meant to intimidate and enthrall anyone who walked within it. In the darkness, it seemed rather cavernous and cold. But for someone seeing it for the first time, she supposed it didn’t matter either way. It was still breathtaking and the evidence of that was on Demetrius’s spellbound face.
Cup in hand, he hesitated for but a moment; his eyelids heavy and his shoulders relaxed from the glass he’d already consumed. He was far from the rigid warrior she’d met that morning; enjoying his time with her; allowing whatever came to pass to be what it was. Whatever guarded reservations he’d felt earlier in the day with her invitation had seemed to have faded away and for that, she was happy as she wished no ill will on Dima. She needed him. And she needed those he had access to. She wouldn’t do something to thwart her good intentions.
The glass lifted to his mouth, mirroring her own as he drunk of the opium-laced wine and Kleio tilted her own glass back a bit more with his acceptance. With that fourth glass, she was sure to lose whatever inhibitions she may have held a cloying hand upon. The opium was only a pleasant addition.
Lowering their glasses, he asked her of her plans and she smiled at him lazily before lacing her fingers back into his; leading him to a set of wide stairs that lead down to a lower level. The four steps dropped down into another long corridor that overlooked the gardens from the far end of the palace. “There’s a place I like to go.. It reminds me of home.” She stopped; letting him trail down another step before tugging on his hand so he turned. From the stair, she was his height and she could look into his eyes without looking up. Fingers untwined from his to trace the collar line of his fine chiton. She followed the path of her fingertips with her eyes as she stepped to the edge of the stair; the length of her golden flecked frame brushing against him. Her lips were parted and she tugged her lower one between her teeth before she looked up at his face. As if caught up in him, she spoke hastily; as if the words simply fell from her mouth. “You really are… quite handsome.” Before he could speak...before he could laugh at her for saying it or wave her comment away, she leaned forward and kissed him. Fingers curled into his robes to form a fist; holding him close as she tasted him. His mouth was rich with the flavor of wine and opium. There was a warmth in his lips that spread unto her; alighting her face and traveling like feathered caresses down her arms and back. She sucked in a breath against him; his scent wholly intoxicating. It made her light headed and greedy with desire. And for a moment she wondered if it was the opium, or if there was something to the myth about a gladiator’s virility.
His story was a sad one full of love and loss. It was hard not to sympathize with the man who seemed to still carry the scars of the absence of his family in more than one place. Kleio found herself wanting to comfort him; to take away his pain but she knew that that wasn’t possible. Scars like that were never mended or forgotten and no amount of platitudes would be sufficient. They would only ever ring false. So Kleio saved those pitying words as she was sure the mercenary had no desire to have her pity. It was something he was quite used to; those long-suffering stares that told him that he was somehow a lesser person now when the fact was that it couldn’t be further from the truth. He was who he was today because of his experiences and his losses; just as she was who she was today because of hers. She didn’t want pity. It was the noble class who cast her aside; who cast her family aside after they’d lost their lands. And for their transgressions, she would stand beside Elias one day and judge them all.
She watched him as she returned from the cabinet; as his eyes roamed around the darkened room. In the light of day and when the sun shown in through the tops of the rafters, the throne room was magnificent; meant to intimidate and enthrall anyone who walked within it. In the darkness, it seemed rather cavernous and cold. But for someone seeing it for the first time, she supposed it didn’t matter either way. It was still breathtaking and the evidence of that was on Demetrius’s spellbound face.
Cup in hand, he hesitated for but a moment; his eyelids heavy and his shoulders relaxed from the glass he’d already consumed. He was far from the rigid warrior she’d met that morning; enjoying his time with her; allowing whatever came to pass to be what it was. Whatever guarded reservations he’d felt earlier in the day with her invitation had seemed to have faded away and for that, she was happy as she wished no ill will on Dima. She needed him. And she needed those he had access to. She wouldn’t do something to thwart her good intentions.
The glass lifted to his mouth, mirroring her own as he drunk of the opium-laced wine and Kleio tilted her own glass back a bit more with his acceptance. With that fourth glass, she was sure to lose whatever inhibitions she may have held a cloying hand upon. The opium was only a pleasant addition.
Lowering their glasses, he asked her of her plans and she smiled at him lazily before lacing her fingers back into his; leading him to a set of wide stairs that lead down to a lower level. The four steps dropped down into another long corridor that overlooked the gardens from the far end of the palace. “There’s a place I like to go.. It reminds me of home.” She stopped; letting him trail down another step before tugging on his hand so he turned. From the stair, she was his height and she could look into his eyes without looking up. Fingers untwined from his to trace the collar line of his fine chiton. She followed the path of her fingertips with her eyes as she stepped to the edge of the stair; the length of her golden flecked frame brushing against him. Her lips were parted and she tugged her lower one between her teeth before she looked up at his face. As if caught up in him, she spoke hastily; as if the words simply fell from her mouth. “You really are… quite handsome.” Before he could speak...before he could laugh at her for saying it or wave her comment away, she leaned forward and kissed him. Fingers curled into his robes to form a fist; holding him close as she tasted him. His mouth was rich with the flavor of wine and opium. There was a warmth in his lips that spread unto her; alighting her face and traveling like feathered caresses down her arms and back. She sucked in a breath against him; his scent wholly intoxicating. It made her light headed and greedy with desire. And for a moment she wondered if it was the opium, or if there was something to the myth about a gladiator’s virility.
It was a strange sensation, the wine was thickly sweet with something he couldn't quite pinpoint. Unlike many of the others he had never partaken in opium or hemp or any of the other various mind altering substances that were freely available to them. Anything to keep them happy and willing to fight was provided. For a moment he didn't notice a difference, watching her closely as he finished his goblet in time with her emptying her own. He had confidence that he could at the very least stay on par with her when it came to drink, but as he moved and everything felt strange around him he wondered if perhaps he ought not to have quite so easily drunk something he wasn't certain of.
A slight panic brushed through his mind, wondering if this was how they trapped him again, made him a slave once more and took all things from him. Her gentle touch though was so entirely different than the way any of the people who had claimed to own him before had used. No, this was just a moment, a party that he had been fortunate enough to attend. That was all it was.
Following her and holding on to the warmth of her hand a bit more tightly than was necessary, his eyes took on a faraway look as she mentioned her home. He knew nothing of the place she was from, but he could still see clearly in his minds eye the village, Olbia had been a paradise for him. It might not have been palaces and grandeur and luxury, but it had been warm and family and love. He had been happy, excited even to live his life as a farmer with Olena by his side, a brood of children and then grandchildren crowded around them.
Demetrius was interrupted when she halted him and he turned, face to face with her now that she'd remained a step above. Allowing her to touch, he gazed up to meet her eyes and brought his hands to rest softly on her hips. It felt foreign to him, the gentleness of a woman after spending his time primarily among men. It was so much softer, gentler, lighter. Less a battle for pleasure and more a time to let the sensations build as she brushed her fingers along his skin and his own began to mimic the touch by sweeping along her sides.
Dima gave a disbelieving laugh of sorts as she called him handsome, aside from his Cimmerian heritage he was not so different from the rest of the Greeks, certainly not when it came to physical appearance. He was nothing special as far as he could tell. But her lips on his told a different story and after a moment that felt like an age but was really only a second, he closed his eyes and allowed her to sweep him away. Parting his lips against hers he wrapped an arm tighter around her waist as she exhaled, gripping at her ethereal gown as tightly as she held on to the front of his chiton. He had no real desire to let go or rush any of their movements, content to linger in every moment as he memorized the taste of her and breathed in the heady perfume that wafted from her warm soft skin.
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It was a strange sensation, the wine was thickly sweet with something he couldn't quite pinpoint. Unlike many of the others he had never partaken in opium or hemp or any of the other various mind altering substances that were freely available to them. Anything to keep them happy and willing to fight was provided. For a moment he didn't notice a difference, watching her closely as he finished his goblet in time with her emptying her own. He had confidence that he could at the very least stay on par with her when it came to drink, but as he moved and everything felt strange around him he wondered if perhaps he ought not to have quite so easily drunk something he wasn't certain of.
A slight panic brushed through his mind, wondering if this was how they trapped him again, made him a slave once more and took all things from him. Her gentle touch though was so entirely different than the way any of the people who had claimed to own him before had used. No, this was just a moment, a party that he had been fortunate enough to attend. That was all it was.
Following her and holding on to the warmth of her hand a bit more tightly than was necessary, his eyes took on a faraway look as she mentioned her home. He knew nothing of the place she was from, but he could still see clearly in his minds eye the village, Olbia had been a paradise for him. It might not have been palaces and grandeur and luxury, but it had been warm and family and love. He had been happy, excited even to live his life as a farmer with Olena by his side, a brood of children and then grandchildren crowded around them.
Demetrius was interrupted when she halted him and he turned, face to face with her now that she'd remained a step above. Allowing her to touch, he gazed up to meet her eyes and brought his hands to rest softly on her hips. It felt foreign to him, the gentleness of a woman after spending his time primarily among men. It was so much softer, gentler, lighter. Less a battle for pleasure and more a time to let the sensations build as she brushed her fingers along his skin and his own began to mimic the touch by sweeping along her sides.
Dima gave a disbelieving laugh of sorts as she called him handsome, aside from his Cimmerian heritage he was not so different from the rest of the Greeks, certainly not when it came to physical appearance. He was nothing special as far as he could tell. But her lips on his told a different story and after a moment that felt like an age but was really only a second, he closed his eyes and allowed her to sweep him away. Parting his lips against hers he wrapped an arm tighter around her waist as she exhaled, gripping at her ethereal gown as tightly as she held on to the front of his chiton. He had no real desire to let go or rush any of their movements, content to linger in every moment as he memorized the taste of her and breathed in the heady perfume that wafted from her warm soft skin.
It was a strange sensation, the wine was thickly sweet with something he couldn't quite pinpoint. Unlike many of the others he had never partaken in opium or hemp or any of the other various mind altering substances that were freely available to them. Anything to keep them happy and willing to fight was provided. For a moment he didn't notice a difference, watching her closely as he finished his goblet in time with her emptying her own. He had confidence that he could at the very least stay on par with her when it came to drink, but as he moved and everything felt strange around him he wondered if perhaps he ought not to have quite so easily drunk something he wasn't certain of.
A slight panic brushed through his mind, wondering if this was how they trapped him again, made him a slave once more and took all things from him. Her gentle touch though was so entirely different than the way any of the people who had claimed to own him before had used. No, this was just a moment, a party that he had been fortunate enough to attend. That was all it was.
Following her and holding on to the warmth of her hand a bit more tightly than was necessary, his eyes took on a faraway look as she mentioned her home. He knew nothing of the place she was from, but he could still see clearly in his minds eye the village, Olbia had been a paradise for him. It might not have been palaces and grandeur and luxury, but it had been warm and family and love. He had been happy, excited even to live his life as a farmer with Olena by his side, a brood of children and then grandchildren crowded around them.
Demetrius was interrupted when she halted him and he turned, face to face with her now that she'd remained a step above. Allowing her to touch, he gazed up to meet her eyes and brought his hands to rest softly on her hips. It felt foreign to him, the gentleness of a woman after spending his time primarily among men. It was so much softer, gentler, lighter. Less a battle for pleasure and more a time to let the sensations build as she brushed her fingers along his skin and his own began to mimic the touch by sweeping along her sides.
Dima gave a disbelieving laugh of sorts as she called him handsome, aside from his Cimmerian heritage he was not so different from the rest of the Greeks, certainly not when it came to physical appearance. He was nothing special as far as he could tell. But her lips on his told a different story and after a moment that felt like an age but was really only a second, he closed his eyes and allowed her to sweep him away. Parting his lips against hers he wrapped an arm tighter around her waist as she exhaled, gripping at her ethereal gown as tightly as she held on to the front of his chiton. He had no real desire to let go or rush any of their movements, content to linger in every moment as he memorized the taste of her and breathed in the heady perfume that wafted from her warm soft skin.
He was wrong.
With cerulean blue eyes and a strong jawline, light brown hair that fell loose about his neckline, broad shoulders and a lean but firm frame, he was very little like the darker featured Greeks that were in abundance. He was taller than them too which leant to his abilities in the arena. And his skin was sun-kissed. His eyes had a sadness to them; a guarded nature that she instinctively wanted to fix. And even with her need of his services, she’d decided that there was no harm with having a bit of fun with him; of living in the moment herself and enjoying him. Maybe for a few moments they could forget about their tragic back tales and look to the future; whatever that may be.
It took a moment for him to return her kiss, though he didn’t pull away. His hand rested on her hip and it was warm through the sheer material. She wondered if she should stop; if she should let him go. But before she could pull away and say something, his arm twisted around her waist and pulled her tighter to him. He was strong and she liked the feeling of his frame against hers. Her hand left his collar and moved around his neck; slipping up into his hair as the kiss deepened. Here in these deserted corridors, they were free to indulge in each other; unconcerned about those in attendance of the party several rooms over.
His hand tightened in her gown; straining it against her waist and compromising its ability to keep her covered.. But she didn’t mind. They were both being rash; impulsive. Carried away by the wine and opium and the setting of the party. But there could be no regrets tonight, and no reservations. She gave a soft whimper against his mouth as she leaned against him; letting him hold her weight with his stance. She felt flushed and needy against him. Her free hand gripped his bicep for balance; as if using it as a buoy to keep her afloat.
With her breath gone and her heart racing, she finally tore away from him enough to gasp for air. Her forehead leaned against his as she fought to regain her senses enough to speak. Lips parted ever so close to his, she was able to whisper her words to him, though her knees remained weak and she was glad for his arm about her waist. “This isn’t the place…” After a moment she grinned. Her words were two-fold. This small decline of stairs was not where she’d intended to take him… and it was also not the place for them to lose themselves as it was still too close to the party. While she had no qualms with being seen with the gladiator (after all, having a champion on one's arm was every bit of a power and status symbol in Greece) she was not so loose as to at least keep her affairs relegated to behind closed doors.
Her hand untangled in his hair and grazed over his neck as she looked up into his blue eyes; swept up so easily in them. Her thumb traced his cheek and then his lower lip; heady from being so very close.
Finding her strength, she let her hand fall to his chest and she pushed away from him slowly. “Come.. It’s just up ahead…” Untwisting from his hold, she took his hand again and slipped past him down the final step so she could lead him along the hall. She glanced back once to ensure he wasn’t hesitating and offered him a playful smile before turning a corner and leading him down another set of stairs to a pair of double doors that were closed. She pushed one of them open and slipped through into a dark room where the air was thick and moist. It was rather warm, though not uncomfortably so and it smelled like water. Kleio moved about in the dark; tucking her feet into a pair of wooden sandals near the door before stepping down to light a taper against the red embers of a dying fire. A flame rose up and she protected it with her hand before moving to the wall. Reaching up, she held the flame to the wall and immediately a line of fire raced about the room; set in the ledge of the wall where oil pooled at the bottom. The room was large and decorated with intricate murals in plaster and mosaic tiles on the floor. At the center, a large bathing pool lay motionless; it’s depths heated from beneath by warmed coals like the ones she lit her taper against.
Kleio clicked around the edge of the pool; clearly comfortable in the space. She went to the end of the room and pushed at one side of a heavy set of doors folding it away to open the baths up to the view of the ocean outside. She then went to the other side and pushed those away as well. The baths faced an open edge balcony set into the hills with a view of the vast expanse of the Aegean Sea. Outside an endless curtain of stars was mirrored in the water and from this height, one could see for miles around them. Aside from the unfurled doors that overlooked only the sea, the room was completely private.
Kleio went back to him; her feet clicking away on the wooden sandals meant to protect her from the heated floors. She grinned at their sound and spoke as she stepped past him to close the door they’d come through; crossing a board across the entrance so no one could come in while they were there. “Where I come from, I had a room much like this one. ...A bit smaller and not as… ornate. ...But it opened up to the ocean like this. It’s where I’d go after a particularly stressful day.”
With the door locked from any outside intruders, they had no concerns and could stay as long as they desired. Turning back to him, she leaned back against the door and looked him over. “...Care for a bath…?”
JD
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Staff Team
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With cerulean blue eyes and a strong jawline, light brown hair that fell loose about his neckline, broad shoulders and a lean but firm frame, he was very little like the darker featured Greeks that were in abundance. He was taller than them too which leant to his abilities in the arena. And his skin was sun-kissed. His eyes had a sadness to them; a guarded nature that she instinctively wanted to fix. And even with her need of his services, she’d decided that there was no harm with having a bit of fun with him; of living in the moment herself and enjoying him. Maybe for a few moments they could forget about their tragic back tales and look to the future; whatever that may be.
It took a moment for him to return her kiss, though he didn’t pull away. His hand rested on her hip and it was warm through the sheer material. She wondered if she should stop; if she should let him go. But before she could pull away and say something, his arm twisted around her waist and pulled her tighter to him. He was strong and she liked the feeling of his frame against hers. Her hand left his collar and moved around his neck; slipping up into his hair as the kiss deepened. Here in these deserted corridors, they were free to indulge in each other; unconcerned about those in attendance of the party several rooms over.
His hand tightened in her gown; straining it against her waist and compromising its ability to keep her covered.. But she didn’t mind. They were both being rash; impulsive. Carried away by the wine and opium and the setting of the party. But there could be no regrets tonight, and no reservations. She gave a soft whimper against his mouth as she leaned against him; letting him hold her weight with his stance. She felt flushed and needy against him. Her free hand gripped his bicep for balance; as if using it as a buoy to keep her afloat.
With her breath gone and her heart racing, she finally tore away from him enough to gasp for air. Her forehead leaned against his as she fought to regain her senses enough to speak. Lips parted ever so close to his, she was able to whisper her words to him, though her knees remained weak and she was glad for his arm about her waist. “This isn’t the place…” After a moment she grinned. Her words were two-fold. This small decline of stairs was not where she’d intended to take him… and it was also not the place for them to lose themselves as it was still too close to the party. While she had no qualms with being seen with the gladiator (after all, having a champion on one's arm was every bit of a power and status symbol in Greece) she was not so loose as to at least keep her affairs relegated to behind closed doors.
Her hand untangled in his hair and grazed over his neck as she looked up into his blue eyes; swept up so easily in them. Her thumb traced his cheek and then his lower lip; heady from being so very close.
Finding her strength, she let her hand fall to his chest and she pushed away from him slowly. “Come.. It’s just up ahead…” Untwisting from his hold, she took his hand again and slipped past him down the final step so she could lead him along the hall. She glanced back once to ensure he wasn’t hesitating and offered him a playful smile before turning a corner and leading him down another set of stairs to a pair of double doors that were closed. She pushed one of them open and slipped through into a dark room where the air was thick and moist. It was rather warm, though not uncomfortably so and it smelled like water. Kleio moved about in the dark; tucking her feet into a pair of wooden sandals near the door before stepping down to light a taper against the red embers of a dying fire. A flame rose up and she protected it with her hand before moving to the wall. Reaching up, she held the flame to the wall and immediately a line of fire raced about the room; set in the ledge of the wall where oil pooled at the bottom. The room was large and decorated with intricate murals in plaster and mosaic tiles on the floor. At the center, a large bathing pool lay motionless; it’s depths heated from beneath by warmed coals like the ones she lit her taper against.
Kleio clicked around the edge of the pool; clearly comfortable in the space. She went to the end of the room and pushed at one side of a heavy set of doors folding it away to open the baths up to the view of the ocean outside. She then went to the other side and pushed those away as well. The baths faced an open edge balcony set into the hills with a view of the vast expanse of the Aegean Sea. Outside an endless curtain of stars was mirrored in the water and from this height, one could see for miles around them. Aside from the unfurled doors that overlooked only the sea, the room was completely private.
Kleio went back to him; her feet clicking away on the wooden sandals meant to protect her from the heated floors. She grinned at their sound and spoke as she stepped past him to close the door they’d come through; crossing a board across the entrance so no one could come in while they were there. “Where I come from, I had a room much like this one. ...A bit smaller and not as… ornate. ...But it opened up to the ocean like this. It’s where I’d go after a particularly stressful day.”
With the door locked from any outside intruders, they had no concerns and could stay as long as they desired. Turning back to him, she leaned back against the door and looked him over. “...Care for a bath…?”
He was wrong.
With cerulean blue eyes and a strong jawline, light brown hair that fell loose about his neckline, broad shoulders and a lean but firm frame, he was very little like the darker featured Greeks that were in abundance. He was taller than them too which leant to his abilities in the arena. And his skin was sun-kissed. His eyes had a sadness to them; a guarded nature that she instinctively wanted to fix. And even with her need of his services, she’d decided that there was no harm with having a bit of fun with him; of living in the moment herself and enjoying him. Maybe for a few moments they could forget about their tragic back tales and look to the future; whatever that may be.
It took a moment for him to return her kiss, though he didn’t pull away. His hand rested on her hip and it was warm through the sheer material. She wondered if she should stop; if she should let him go. But before she could pull away and say something, his arm twisted around her waist and pulled her tighter to him. He was strong and she liked the feeling of his frame against hers. Her hand left his collar and moved around his neck; slipping up into his hair as the kiss deepened. Here in these deserted corridors, they were free to indulge in each other; unconcerned about those in attendance of the party several rooms over.
His hand tightened in her gown; straining it against her waist and compromising its ability to keep her covered.. But she didn’t mind. They were both being rash; impulsive. Carried away by the wine and opium and the setting of the party. But there could be no regrets tonight, and no reservations. She gave a soft whimper against his mouth as she leaned against him; letting him hold her weight with his stance. She felt flushed and needy against him. Her free hand gripped his bicep for balance; as if using it as a buoy to keep her afloat.
With her breath gone and her heart racing, she finally tore away from him enough to gasp for air. Her forehead leaned against his as she fought to regain her senses enough to speak. Lips parted ever so close to his, she was able to whisper her words to him, though her knees remained weak and she was glad for his arm about her waist. “This isn’t the place…” After a moment she grinned. Her words were two-fold. This small decline of stairs was not where she’d intended to take him… and it was also not the place for them to lose themselves as it was still too close to the party. While she had no qualms with being seen with the gladiator (after all, having a champion on one's arm was every bit of a power and status symbol in Greece) she was not so loose as to at least keep her affairs relegated to behind closed doors.
Her hand untangled in his hair and grazed over his neck as she looked up into his blue eyes; swept up so easily in them. Her thumb traced his cheek and then his lower lip; heady from being so very close.
Finding her strength, she let her hand fall to his chest and she pushed away from him slowly. “Come.. It’s just up ahead…” Untwisting from his hold, she took his hand again and slipped past him down the final step so she could lead him along the hall. She glanced back once to ensure he wasn’t hesitating and offered him a playful smile before turning a corner and leading him down another set of stairs to a pair of double doors that were closed. She pushed one of them open and slipped through into a dark room where the air was thick and moist. It was rather warm, though not uncomfortably so and it smelled like water. Kleio moved about in the dark; tucking her feet into a pair of wooden sandals near the door before stepping down to light a taper against the red embers of a dying fire. A flame rose up and she protected it with her hand before moving to the wall. Reaching up, she held the flame to the wall and immediately a line of fire raced about the room; set in the ledge of the wall where oil pooled at the bottom. The room was large and decorated with intricate murals in plaster and mosaic tiles on the floor. At the center, a large bathing pool lay motionless; it’s depths heated from beneath by warmed coals like the ones she lit her taper against.
Kleio clicked around the edge of the pool; clearly comfortable in the space. She went to the end of the room and pushed at one side of a heavy set of doors folding it away to open the baths up to the view of the ocean outside. She then went to the other side and pushed those away as well. The baths faced an open edge balcony set into the hills with a view of the vast expanse of the Aegean Sea. Outside an endless curtain of stars was mirrored in the water and from this height, one could see for miles around them. Aside from the unfurled doors that overlooked only the sea, the room was completely private.
Kleio went back to him; her feet clicking away on the wooden sandals meant to protect her from the heated floors. She grinned at their sound and spoke as she stepped past him to close the door they’d come through; crossing a board across the entrance so no one could come in while they were there. “Where I come from, I had a room much like this one. ...A bit smaller and not as… ornate. ...But it opened up to the ocean like this. It’s where I’d go after a particularly stressful day.”
With the door locked from any outside intruders, they had no concerns and could stay as long as they desired. Turning back to him, she leaned back against the door and looked him over. “...Care for a bath…?”
Whatever had been in the wine was urging him on, though his movements were unhurried. For once he was allowing himself to indulge, sinking into the luxuries that were being offered to him tonight. So rarely did he allow himself to let go or properly enjoy himself, he was driven singularly by his purpose. Instead of seeking out company he searched the docks for familiar faces, worn away by the sixteen years past but still present, still them, still there.
Her breath against his lips and her hand in his hair drew him back to her and he welcomed her full weight against him. Steadying them easily with the height difference brought on by the stairs, Demetrius held her close with one hand on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He didn't know what would happen if they were caught, she claimed to be nothing but a maid to the people of the palace, but she certainly knew a good deal of the palace and its secrets. It wouldn't do if he were caught transgressing, he had no desire to lose his hands, or his life.
Breathing out harshly as she broke their lips apart, he kept his eyes closed as she leaned her forehead against his, slowly brushing his nose against hers as she spoke before nodding and pulling back. There was sense in one of them at least. Opening his eyes as her thumb swept over his cheek, he offered her a slight smile, lips still slightly parted to allow him to catch his breath.
"Oh?"
In the moment he'd forgotten entirely that she had been leading him somewhere that reminded her of her home, and he nodded again, twining his hand with hers once again and allowing her to lead him deeper into the depths of the palace. He'd thrown himself in this far, he may as well go all the way. Dima had been convinced that nothing else would surprise him after the things she had shown him thusfar, but when they stepped into the room with the large pool and the mosaics, he stopped still once more in awe.
The view of the sea that she revealed was stunning, and he followed her across the floor to look out over it. He could not imagine living in such a way, but this was incredible. Only when she spoke again did he turn his head from the view, noting the board across the door and raising a brow. He'd taken a bath before, but before he could open his mouth and say such a thing he realized the implications, or what he hoped they were.
"If you..insist."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Whatever had been in the wine was urging him on, though his movements were unhurried. For once he was allowing himself to indulge, sinking into the luxuries that were being offered to him tonight. So rarely did he allow himself to let go or properly enjoy himself, he was driven singularly by his purpose. Instead of seeking out company he searched the docks for familiar faces, worn away by the sixteen years past but still present, still them, still there.
Her breath against his lips and her hand in his hair drew him back to her and he welcomed her full weight against him. Steadying them easily with the height difference brought on by the stairs, Demetrius held her close with one hand on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He didn't know what would happen if they were caught, she claimed to be nothing but a maid to the people of the palace, but she certainly knew a good deal of the palace and its secrets. It wouldn't do if he were caught transgressing, he had no desire to lose his hands, or his life.
Breathing out harshly as she broke their lips apart, he kept his eyes closed as she leaned her forehead against his, slowly brushing his nose against hers as she spoke before nodding and pulling back. There was sense in one of them at least. Opening his eyes as her thumb swept over his cheek, he offered her a slight smile, lips still slightly parted to allow him to catch his breath.
"Oh?"
In the moment he'd forgotten entirely that she had been leading him somewhere that reminded her of her home, and he nodded again, twining his hand with hers once again and allowing her to lead him deeper into the depths of the palace. He'd thrown himself in this far, he may as well go all the way. Dima had been convinced that nothing else would surprise him after the things she had shown him thusfar, but when they stepped into the room with the large pool and the mosaics, he stopped still once more in awe.
The view of the sea that she revealed was stunning, and he followed her across the floor to look out over it. He could not imagine living in such a way, but this was incredible. Only when she spoke again did he turn his head from the view, noting the board across the door and raising a brow. He'd taken a bath before, but before he could open his mouth and say such a thing he realized the implications, or what he hoped they were.
"If you..insist."
Whatever had been in the wine was urging him on, though his movements were unhurried. For once he was allowing himself to indulge, sinking into the luxuries that were being offered to him tonight. So rarely did he allow himself to let go or properly enjoy himself, he was driven singularly by his purpose. Instead of seeking out company he searched the docks for familiar faces, worn away by the sixteen years past but still present, still them, still there.
Her breath against his lips and her hand in his hair drew him back to her and he welcomed her full weight against him. Steadying them easily with the height difference brought on by the stairs, Demetrius held her close with one hand on the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He didn't know what would happen if they were caught, she claimed to be nothing but a maid to the people of the palace, but she certainly knew a good deal of the palace and its secrets. It wouldn't do if he were caught transgressing, he had no desire to lose his hands, or his life.
Breathing out harshly as she broke their lips apart, he kept his eyes closed as she leaned her forehead against his, slowly brushing his nose against hers as she spoke before nodding and pulling back. There was sense in one of them at least. Opening his eyes as her thumb swept over his cheek, he offered her a slight smile, lips still slightly parted to allow him to catch his breath.
"Oh?"
In the moment he'd forgotten entirely that she had been leading him somewhere that reminded her of her home, and he nodded again, twining his hand with hers once again and allowing her to lead him deeper into the depths of the palace. He'd thrown himself in this far, he may as well go all the way. Dima had been convinced that nothing else would surprise him after the things she had shown him thusfar, but when they stepped into the room with the large pool and the mosaics, he stopped still once more in awe.
The view of the sea that she revealed was stunning, and he followed her across the floor to look out over it. He could not imagine living in such a way, but this was incredible. Only when she spoke again did he turn his head from the view, noting the board across the door and raising a brow. He'd taken a bath before, but before he could open his mouth and say such a thing he realized the implications, or what he hoped they were.
"If you..insist."
Kleio’s position in the palace was a bit nubilus. She was indeed the princess’s lady in waiting, but the tasks she’d been charged with and her training as a noble early in life gave her a breadth of knowledge that often meant she took on more in-depth roles for Persephone than the other maidens may have. The feast being one of those examples. With the Princess off at so many events during the day in celebration of her engagement, there simply wasn’t time for her to oversee the set up of the event and so Kleio took over. She ensured the entire royal wing of the house ran at a level befitting the princess and the king; from the staff, their assignments, and all things pertaining to her majesty. She also served as a right hand adversary to Persephone; deflecting conversations the princess wasn’t interested in, informing her who was in attendance at social events, overseeing her dressing and ensuring her hair was in order, managing correspondences, and providing a shoulder for her to lean on when the world became bigger than a single person was meant to bear.
Over the last four years, Kleio had integrated herself into every facet of Persephone’s life; becoming invaluable to her. And in doing so, making it a point to know everything that happened in her world.
All so she could pass off relevant information to Elias.
Her position, over the course of time, also came with perks. No longer relegated to the servant's wings, she had a room closer to the Princess herself. And with her substantial trust that was left after her parent's death, she lived quite comfortably, all things considered. All the perks of being royal, without a title or reputation to speak of. And while she would never dream of using the baths when Minas or Persephone was known to use them, sneaking off in such a way to indulge in a dip had never been denied to her.
His attention had been diverted to the vast expanse of the sea beyond the open doors until she spoke. Only then did his eyes travel the length of her before playfully relenting to her suggestion. Pushing off the door, she lifted her hands to her hair and began untying the mass or dark brown hair that was piled atop her head as she moved back to him. “I assume since you aren’t covered in the blood of the men you battled earlier today that you’ve already taken one. ...But it wasn’t here. ...And it wasn’t with me... “ She turned as she stepped up to him; pulling her hair over her shoulder. Her back was bare save the straps that held her gown around her shoulders. There was a small gold belt that held the gown tight about her waist. It laced at the lowest part of her back; easily in reach of her own fingers, but what was the harm in asking for a bit of help? “Would you mind unfastening this? It can be tricky…”
It was nothing of the sort. And when it was unlaced she turned and pushed first one shoulder off and then the other. Her hazel eyes watched his as she undressed for him; holding the gown closed over her chest at first before letting it fall to the floor. The gold flecks that had been adhered to her face and neck wound around her arm and over each pert bud of her breast. It twisted around her slender waist and between her hips then down her left leg where the slit in her dress had teased earlier. The only adornment she wore aside from the gold was the golden bands that circled her ankles.
Without a word she stepped forward; taking her eyes off his so she could follow the trail of her hand with them as it grazed softly down the front of his chest. Looking back up,, she stared at him boldly as her hand went to the clasp at his shoulder that held the chlamys about his frame. She twisted it open and then pushed it off his shoulders. Fingers lifted to graze against his cheek as she leaned forward; drawing out the moments before they kissed as she stared at his mouth. As if needing to touch them to confirm how delicious they looked, her index finger grazed along his lower lip before she leaned forward and replaced it with her own.
He tasted just as delicious as he had moments before and whatever electricity she’d felt outside now returned in force. She sucked in a breath and drew herself up on her toes; one arm folded delicately between them as she tugged him forward beneath his chin by the tips of her fingers. The line between this tender moment and the passion they shared beyond those double doors was tenuous at best and as soon as he reciprocated there was no turning back. She wasn’t sure how long she could be gentle with him.
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Kleio’s position in the palace was a bit nubilus. She was indeed the princess’s lady in waiting, but the tasks she’d been charged with and her training as a noble early in life gave her a breadth of knowledge that often meant she took on more in-depth roles for Persephone than the other maidens may have. The feast being one of those examples. With the Princess off at so many events during the day in celebration of her engagement, there simply wasn’t time for her to oversee the set up of the event and so Kleio took over. She ensured the entire royal wing of the house ran at a level befitting the princess and the king; from the staff, their assignments, and all things pertaining to her majesty. She also served as a right hand adversary to Persephone; deflecting conversations the princess wasn’t interested in, informing her who was in attendance at social events, overseeing her dressing and ensuring her hair was in order, managing correspondences, and providing a shoulder for her to lean on when the world became bigger than a single person was meant to bear.
Over the last four years, Kleio had integrated herself into every facet of Persephone’s life; becoming invaluable to her. And in doing so, making it a point to know everything that happened in her world.
All so she could pass off relevant information to Elias.
Her position, over the course of time, also came with perks. No longer relegated to the servant's wings, she had a room closer to the Princess herself. And with her substantial trust that was left after her parent's death, she lived quite comfortably, all things considered. All the perks of being royal, without a title or reputation to speak of. And while she would never dream of using the baths when Minas or Persephone was known to use them, sneaking off in such a way to indulge in a dip had never been denied to her.
His attention had been diverted to the vast expanse of the sea beyond the open doors until she spoke. Only then did his eyes travel the length of her before playfully relenting to her suggestion. Pushing off the door, she lifted her hands to her hair and began untying the mass or dark brown hair that was piled atop her head as she moved back to him. “I assume since you aren’t covered in the blood of the men you battled earlier today that you’ve already taken one. ...But it wasn’t here. ...And it wasn’t with me... “ She turned as she stepped up to him; pulling her hair over her shoulder. Her back was bare save the straps that held her gown around her shoulders. There was a small gold belt that held the gown tight about her waist. It laced at the lowest part of her back; easily in reach of her own fingers, but what was the harm in asking for a bit of help? “Would you mind unfastening this? It can be tricky…”
It was nothing of the sort. And when it was unlaced she turned and pushed first one shoulder off and then the other. Her hazel eyes watched his as she undressed for him; holding the gown closed over her chest at first before letting it fall to the floor. The gold flecks that had been adhered to her face and neck wound around her arm and over each pert bud of her breast. It twisted around her slender waist and between her hips then down her left leg where the slit in her dress had teased earlier. The only adornment she wore aside from the gold was the golden bands that circled her ankles.
Without a word she stepped forward; taking her eyes off his so she could follow the trail of her hand with them as it grazed softly down the front of his chest. Looking back up,, she stared at him boldly as her hand went to the clasp at his shoulder that held the chlamys about his frame. She twisted it open and then pushed it off his shoulders. Fingers lifted to graze against his cheek as she leaned forward; drawing out the moments before they kissed as she stared at his mouth. As if needing to touch them to confirm how delicious they looked, her index finger grazed along his lower lip before she leaned forward and replaced it with her own.
He tasted just as delicious as he had moments before and whatever electricity she’d felt outside now returned in force. She sucked in a breath and drew herself up on her toes; one arm folded delicately between them as she tugged him forward beneath his chin by the tips of her fingers. The line between this tender moment and the passion they shared beyond those double doors was tenuous at best and as soon as he reciprocated there was no turning back. She wasn’t sure how long she could be gentle with him.
Kleio’s position in the palace was a bit nubilus. She was indeed the princess’s lady in waiting, but the tasks she’d been charged with and her training as a noble early in life gave her a breadth of knowledge that often meant she took on more in-depth roles for Persephone than the other maidens may have. The feast being one of those examples. With the Princess off at so many events during the day in celebration of her engagement, there simply wasn’t time for her to oversee the set up of the event and so Kleio took over. She ensured the entire royal wing of the house ran at a level befitting the princess and the king; from the staff, their assignments, and all things pertaining to her majesty. She also served as a right hand adversary to Persephone; deflecting conversations the princess wasn’t interested in, informing her who was in attendance at social events, overseeing her dressing and ensuring her hair was in order, managing correspondences, and providing a shoulder for her to lean on when the world became bigger than a single person was meant to bear.
Over the last four years, Kleio had integrated herself into every facet of Persephone’s life; becoming invaluable to her. And in doing so, making it a point to know everything that happened in her world.
All so she could pass off relevant information to Elias.
Her position, over the course of time, also came with perks. No longer relegated to the servant's wings, she had a room closer to the Princess herself. And with her substantial trust that was left after her parent's death, she lived quite comfortably, all things considered. All the perks of being royal, without a title or reputation to speak of. And while she would never dream of using the baths when Minas or Persephone was known to use them, sneaking off in such a way to indulge in a dip had never been denied to her.
His attention had been diverted to the vast expanse of the sea beyond the open doors until she spoke. Only then did his eyes travel the length of her before playfully relenting to her suggestion. Pushing off the door, she lifted her hands to her hair and began untying the mass or dark brown hair that was piled atop her head as she moved back to him. “I assume since you aren’t covered in the blood of the men you battled earlier today that you’ve already taken one. ...But it wasn’t here. ...And it wasn’t with me... “ She turned as she stepped up to him; pulling her hair over her shoulder. Her back was bare save the straps that held her gown around her shoulders. There was a small gold belt that held the gown tight about her waist. It laced at the lowest part of her back; easily in reach of her own fingers, but what was the harm in asking for a bit of help? “Would you mind unfastening this? It can be tricky…”
It was nothing of the sort. And when it was unlaced she turned and pushed first one shoulder off and then the other. Her hazel eyes watched his as she undressed for him; holding the gown closed over her chest at first before letting it fall to the floor. The gold flecks that had been adhered to her face and neck wound around her arm and over each pert bud of her breast. It twisted around her slender waist and between her hips then down her left leg where the slit in her dress had teased earlier. The only adornment she wore aside from the gold was the golden bands that circled her ankles.
Without a word she stepped forward; taking her eyes off his so she could follow the trail of her hand with them as it grazed softly down the front of his chest. Looking back up,, she stared at him boldly as her hand went to the clasp at his shoulder that held the chlamys about his frame. She twisted it open and then pushed it off his shoulders. Fingers lifted to graze against his cheek as she leaned forward; drawing out the moments before they kissed as she stared at his mouth. As if needing to touch them to confirm how delicious they looked, her index finger grazed along his lower lip before she leaned forward and replaced it with her own.
He tasted just as delicious as he had moments before and whatever electricity she’d felt outside now returned in force. She sucked in a breath and drew herself up on her toes; one arm folded delicately between them as she tugged him forward beneath his chin by the tips of her fingers. The line between this tender moment and the passion they shared beyond those double doors was tenuous at best and as soon as he reciprocated there was no turning back. She wasn’t sure how long she could be gentle with him.
Demetrius gave a soft laugh at her comment, turning back to look at her and allowing his gaze to linger longer than he perhaps should have. As her hair tumbled free of its restraints his eyes followed and he stepped closer without thinking as she moved towards him. He'd taken great care to choose his chiton and chlamys, making sure there wasn't a spot on them and it looked as fine as possible for his trip to the palace, and after the arena he'd spent ages scrubbing the blood and dirt from his skin. But she made a point. He hadn't bathed with her, and it had been a while since he had been with a woman.
"You make a fair point. If you insist."
Hesitating a moment, he reached out and unfastened the belt she'd indicated. The gown slipped off of her shoulders in a tantalizing manner and he watched the material fall, allowing his eyes to trace along her form up to her face. Her deep bronzed skin dusted with gold made her look otherworldly, as if Aphrodite herself had taken human form and for some insane reason had chosen him.
The smile spread on his lips as she stepped in, keeping his gaze on hers as she unfastened the cloak, offering no resistance. His hand went to the belt around his waist as her hand lifted to his cheek, pressing his lips to her finger as it traced along his lips. Heat was building in him and he leaned down to claim her mouth as she took hold of his chin, tossing his belt aside and sliding one hand around her waist to pull her flush against him.
Now that they were alone, with a locked door between them and anyone else, the heat from the pool and the wine laced with opium flowing through his veins he was far less reserved and her lips were intoxicating. Pulling back slightly after a long moment, he shoved his own chiton off with far less ceremony than she had, sliding one hand through her hair. The night was on a different track than he had expected, but any alternate paths seemed far less enjoyable.
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Check out their information page here.
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Demetrius gave a soft laugh at her comment, turning back to look at her and allowing his gaze to linger longer than he perhaps should have. As her hair tumbled free of its restraints his eyes followed and he stepped closer without thinking as she moved towards him. He'd taken great care to choose his chiton and chlamys, making sure there wasn't a spot on them and it looked as fine as possible for his trip to the palace, and after the arena he'd spent ages scrubbing the blood and dirt from his skin. But she made a point. He hadn't bathed with her, and it had been a while since he had been with a woman.
"You make a fair point. If you insist."
Hesitating a moment, he reached out and unfastened the belt she'd indicated. The gown slipped off of her shoulders in a tantalizing manner and he watched the material fall, allowing his eyes to trace along her form up to her face. Her deep bronzed skin dusted with gold made her look otherworldly, as if Aphrodite herself had taken human form and for some insane reason had chosen him.
The smile spread on his lips as she stepped in, keeping his gaze on hers as she unfastened the cloak, offering no resistance. His hand went to the belt around his waist as her hand lifted to his cheek, pressing his lips to her finger as it traced along his lips. Heat was building in him and he leaned down to claim her mouth as she took hold of his chin, tossing his belt aside and sliding one hand around her waist to pull her flush against him.
Now that they were alone, with a locked door between them and anyone else, the heat from the pool and the wine laced with opium flowing through his veins he was far less reserved and her lips were intoxicating. Pulling back slightly after a long moment, he shoved his own chiton off with far less ceremony than she had, sliding one hand through her hair. The night was on a different track than he had expected, but any alternate paths seemed far less enjoyable.
Demetrius gave a soft laugh at her comment, turning back to look at her and allowing his gaze to linger longer than he perhaps should have. As her hair tumbled free of its restraints his eyes followed and he stepped closer without thinking as she moved towards him. He'd taken great care to choose his chiton and chlamys, making sure there wasn't a spot on them and it looked as fine as possible for his trip to the palace, and after the arena he'd spent ages scrubbing the blood and dirt from his skin. But she made a point. He hadn't bathed with her, and it had been a while since he had been with a woman.
"You make a fair point. If you insist."
Hesitating a moment, he reached out and unfastened the belt she'd indicated. The gown slipped off of her shoulders in a tantalizing manner and he watched the material fall, allowing his eyes to trace along her form up to her face. Her deep bronzed skin dusted with gold made her look otherworldly, as if Aphrodite herself had taken human form and for some insane reason had chosen him.
The smile spread on his lips as she stepped in, keeping his gaze on hers as she unfastened the cloak, offering no resistance. His hand went to the belt around his waist as her hand lifted to his cheek, pressing his lips to her finger as it traced along his lips. Heat was building in him and he leaned down to claim her mouth as she took hold of his chin, tossing his belt aside and sliding one hand around her waist to pull her flush against him.
Now that they were alone, with a locked door between them and anyone else, the heat from the pool and the wine laced with opium flowing through his veins he was far less reserved and her lips were intoxicating. Pulling back slightly after a long moment, he shoved his own chiton off with far less ceremony than she had, sliding one hand through her hair. The night was on a different track than he had expected, but any alternate paths seemed far less enjoyable.
