There was less reason to be cautious on this visitation to the Captain of the Aceton. Persephone had, upon their first meeting, kept her dress casual and dark, her cloak fastened and her hood in place at all times when in the public view. She had, after all, been plotting to steal her right to the throne. This time, however, she was merely visiting the docks. Something she did on an infrequent basis with the Master of the Sea in order to establish docking rates, tax changes and the levies that needed to be altered or adjusted on shipments of certain imports and exports. She was, by no means, a familiar face on the docks of the Athenian harbour, but she was at least someone who had set foot there before - someone who would therefore have any plethora of excuses for why she had been present at the dock that evening... There was nothing to specifically tie her to the ship beyond the gossip of locals. And, as far as she had heard, the common people liked to quote her as having walked among them on many times that she had not. The same with her sister. Royalty was, after all, a novelty as much as anything else.

So, when she readied herself for the docks, Persephone dressed slightly more to her own style as a princess would. More people would be seeing her in the light of the evening dusk and it would have actually raised more attention for her to have dressed too incognito. Instead of parading around in the gowns of a royal princess, Persephone chose and dress befitting any woman of the nobility - a fine gown that fastened around the neck with a band of silver, leaving her arms bare, and then drooped to the small of her back in a dramatic swoop of sheer fabric. While the front was suitable for any noble House, the elegance of the back was not and, so, she donned a cloak over the top. The cloak was black and the dress the darkest blue, so she would blend in enough in the dimming light at the docks - or so she hoped.

Keeping her hair fastened up as it had been that day - in a series of braids that twirled and spun into a coil on the back of her head, Persephone was careful to ensure that none of her hair had fallen out of place during her paperwork that evening and then donned silver sandals with straps that twisted around her calves, all the way to the knee. Her gown to the ground but did not extend past her feet so there would be less risk of her dragging it through whatever might be littering the floor at the docks.

Content that her appearance - for all the importance it would mean to the civilians who spotted her at the harbour - was set, Persephone then turned to what was more important. The finalised deeds and orders that lay in three tightly coiled scrolls.

One might have thought that the paperwork to own an entire parcel of land would be larger than the simple piece of parchment the length of her forearm. And they would be right. The official charter of lands was a large piece of paper the length of her desk and was signed with a full wax seal, blood imprint and signature. But such a charter was merely a formality. The paperwork she had had drawn up was just as legally binding as the charter itself and was regularly used when provinces were initially offered. It would be after the bestowing of such a title that the charter would be produced for the baron in question to sign; a flourish of formality at the end of the proceedings.

The three little rolls of parchment, therefore, were all that Persephone would need.

Taking them up and securing them tightly into a pocket sewn on the inside of her cloak, Persephone took a steadying breath and then headed for the downstairs foyer.

As she left her rooms, the guards outside of it bowed politely - as was their custom, and one fell into step behind her.

With the Senate hearing approaching so soon, the King had elected to take no chances with Persephone's safety and she now had an armed escort wherever she went - including inside the palace. Upon reaching the next guarded room the previous palace soldier would then return back to their post.

While she would never openly disagree with her father and could - at least in the objective - she the benefit of such an arrangement, Persephone could help but roll her eyes at the increase they would see in the palace uniform budget, given how many pairs of shoes her guards were going to wear out walking back and forth amongst the royal corridors for no real reason.

She said nothing regarding her uniformed shadow, however, and, instead, met Thalia in the grand foyer of the palace as they had arranged.

Neither said anything to one another beyond the formal greetings for it was clear that they were both focused on the events of the next few hours.

While their previous meeting with the pirate Lukos had been full of a pressure due to limited chances that they were going to be able to secure his aid; the fear of failure... this rendezvous was drenched in tension over of what it would mean were they to succeed. At this point, the ratios of success had been turned and yet Persephone still wished that she could have done more in preparation to confirm the outcome.

Yet, what she held in her inner pocket would have to do. It was a promise, a back-up and a form of trust all wrapped up in three small scrolls. And she prayed to the Gods that they would work...

Twenty minutes later and the two ladies - with a following of a half dozen armed guards - arrived at the docks of the Athenian harbour.

As Persephone stepped down from the carriage, and took in the sea air, she felt the gazes of many a citizen land on her but she was determined not to return the glances. She had been to the docks before and seen the kinds of people who lived upon and around them. They lived an existence that she knew she would never understand, simply because of her upbringing and position in life, so she had been determined not to judge it. Looking at such behaviours, however, was taxing on the eye and mind of someone who was so ill-exposed to such things.

Catching a painted woman leading a sailor to an alcove where they were still able to be seen by the public, despite the occupation they were soon to be engaged in, had Persephone looking away quickly, a light colour gilding her cheeks.

Stubbornly, she set her gaze, instead, on the Aceton - an impressive cargo ship of deepest wood that appeared to gleam. The sun had just dropped below the horizon so there was still light to see by, yet the gloss of the wood refracted it out still further.

Silently impressed that the man took clear care of his vessel, Persephone felt a moment of hope at the idea that the man's pride would ensure his fidelity to their plan. One with pride, had honour. And one with honour often had a code. She just hoped that loyalty to agreements was one of the rules upon that code for this particular pirate.

Setting a quick but graceful pace down the wooden slats of the dock to which the Aceton was moored, Persephone noticed not the stares of Lukos' men and, instead, focused on reaching the gangplank up to his ship without giving away her desire to hurry, nor her reservations.

Reaching the bridge that brought ship to harbour, Persephone stopped, unwilling to step only to the gangway, nor onto the man's ship.

Setting her spine, her shoulders and her chin, Persephone looked up in search of the man she had come to meet, as Thalia came up beside her. Her guards, she had instructed to wait just a few feet back, where they could intercede if they needed to but where they would not be able to hear their conversation before it was whipped away by the wind from the sea.

She quickly spotted the captain of the ship - a man in charge of his domain and comfortable within it - as she noted him perched like a cat on the siding of the vessel. She smiled.

"Are you to come down to me, Captain Lukos?" She called up in a friendly manner. "I fear I know the repercussions a noble lady faces if she is to step foot on the Aceton."

He watched Persephone and her retinue march toward the docks. The woman moved at a healthy clip. Perhaps he’d been expecting her to flutter or float like some great lady. But here she proved her direct manner, though it was fluid, like a dancer. Would the confidence and grace remain, he wondered, if she was forced to think on her feet while fending off sword attack? Or would she stiffen up and be knocked off balance?

Unlike the seedy tavern she’d chosen for their first meeting, this one gave him the advantage. This put him more at his ease. Her soldiers were of little concern. No fight would break out. His dogs were kept on a tight leash tonight. The few he’d allowed to linger on the mid deck stood at the rails, all staring at Persephone as though they’d taken leave of their senses.

“Is she coming aboard?” Arktos’s harsh whisper reeked of the wine he’d had earlier. “She better. I didn’t scrub the whole ship for her to stand on the docks.”

“She’ll come,” Lukos murmured, gaze shifting from Thalia to Persephone as the latter called out to him.

"Are you to come down to me, Captain Lukos? I fear I know the repercussions a noble lady faces if she is to step foot on the Aceton."

He raised his eyebrows at what was clearly a joke. She was determined to be friendly, it seemed and it would work in her favor. Tonight, he was in a mood to humor her. Smirking to himself, he swung his legs over the side of the railing and slid onto the top deck. The rest of his unfinished rope he tossed at Arktos before crossing to the far stairs that led to the mid deck. From there it was a short distance until he stationed himself at the top of the gangway with a hand on either rail, staring down at her.

Her pleasant smile was shared, though his was a little more sardonic. He looked her over again now that he was closer. She looked much more like he’d expected her to the first time; beautiful and ready for court, not adventure. Thalia, too, was attired more in keeping with her station. While he looked the same, although much cleaner than last time, as though he’d bothered to put a little more thought into his appearance.

“I came down to you last time, Princess. It’s your turn to come up to me.” His tone held a hint of mischief but he was serious that she would come aboard. He wasn’t about to do any of this on the docks where the gods and whoever else could see what they were about. As to her second comment, his eyes flicked to Thalia. It interested him that Persephone did not seem in the least bit bothered that Thalia’s first experiences on this ship had been less than ideal. Cocking his head to one side, he considered the princess again.

“I’m not foolish enough to try it again,” he said, moving at the same time to the middle of the gangway. In the same breath, he extended his hand to Persephone the way she had done in the tavern, the first time she’d tried to offer some sort of friendship. The longer she stood there, the more attention she drew. She needed to be taken out of sight and to do that, he needed her to play the game and come down below deck where their little exchange would not be witnessed.

Several of his men stood mute at the railings, their gazes still locked on the princess. Arktos hovered near the mast, looking her over as well. He hadn’t yet spared a glance for Thalia. For Lukos, their behavior was perfectly acceptable so long as they didn’t move toward her. He’d told them they could look but they were not to touch and all of them knew better than to disobey that specific order.

Though his men were open in their staring, Persephone was right not to feel too concerned. Her guards and his own orders kept her and her retinue perfectly safe. Being in the princess’s protection also kept Arktos from acting on his first impulse to toss Thalia into the harbor. Nothing that would permanently harm her but it would have been enough to make his anger with her clear.

The large man’s thoughts toward Thalia melted away once he caught sight of the princess. His hungry gaze never left her form while Lukos reached out and tugged her onto the ship, nor when his captain led the princess and Thalia down the stairs. Arktos followed them down into the dark, saying nothing and reveling to himself that he finally got to see what all the fuss was about. That his thoughts could not be read by any of the party was a blessing for all of them and he stood in the corner of the room, ignoring everything but the way Persephone’s lips formed words or the delicate tilt of her head as she surveyed the captain’s quarters.

For his part, Lukos did not dwell on three nights previous when Thalia had come in through the window. He did not go over their unfinished conversation. His mind was made up. Whether Thalia would like it or not was a minor issue; he would ask Persephone anyway.

He led the way down the stairs and into his cabin. Like Arktos, he watched Persephone’s reaction, smirking as her gaze lingered on the chains. Her thoughts were plain enough by the blush rising in her face, how she looked from the bed to anywhere else quickly. She removed her cloak and at first he thought she would hug it to her to ease her discomfort, but instead, she withdrew three scrolls.

Despite the confidence he’d shown thus far, seeing the official seals on them made him swallow. He twisted the silver ring on his forefinger again as he flicked his gaze first to Persephone, then to Thalia and Arktos before locking eyes with the princess again. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stalked back out the door, brushing past the guard who gave a start but Lukos ignored him.

A second, short set of stairs led down further into the hold and around crates of boxes burned a little clay lamp at the far end of the ship, passed the empty, limp hammocks. An old man sat hunched over a short table. It was a pitiful set up but easily the most sophisticated system on the ship for managing anything Lukos might require. Cubby shelves had been outfitted so as to form a makeshift scribe room.

“Come on,” Lukos called from the stairs.

“Need me after all, do you?” Bianor looked up.

“You read faster,” Lukos said flatly. “Let’s go.” He motioned for the old man to hurry and Bianor hastened toward him, leaving behind his work. On his belt was a pouch containing an inkwell, and a quill. Together they walked up the steps with Lukos leading the way back down the short corridor. The guard prevented both Lukos and Bianor from entering the room again until he’d patted down the scribe and found no weapon.

Lukos rolled his eyes as he opened the door and half pushed Bianor in ahead of him. “He can barely lift a stack of papers,” he said to the guard who ignored him. “Here,” he said to Persephone once he’d shut the door again. There was almost no room for any of them now to maintain a comfortable distance. They were close together and the only thing keeping the room from being altogether uncomfortable was the breeze flitting in from the window.

“Give those to my scribe.”

“Your highness,” Bianor bowed as low as his back would allow and reached out for the scrolls. Without waiting for Lukos’s permission, he broke the seals and scanned through them quickly. The creases on his forehead deepened with each line he read as his grizzled eyebrows shot up. Lukos had not explained anything to him and his eyes widened as he looked first from his captain, to the princess.

“A barony?” he clarified. “The captain…………….” he didn’t finish and backed up until he sat down on the bed, just staring at the scrolls in his lap, muttering things like “No.” and “Unbelievable” and “How?” While ignoring the rest of them until he could digest this information.

For what it was worth, Thalia was rather impressed with Lukos’s ability to take this seriously. In stark contrast to his behavior 3 nights ago, he’d clearly been anticipating Persephone’s arrival. And being that the ship looked like she could eat off of it, he seemed to have no desire to appear anything but invested. While the certainty of their future remained unclear, what with her engagement, at least the viability of Persephone’s reign seemed stronger. With Lukos’s agreement to doublecross Elias, there was no way the Senate would hand him the crown. And while this meeting was a way to gauge Persephone’s commitment to her word, it seemed to be all but a formality.

Lukos did a commendable job of leaving her in the background. Unlike some other people, she had no need to convey their relationship. Not here, not now. She was only here to serve as a reminder to Lukos that the agreement had been made because of her, and as some sort of link between the captain and the princess. Her attendance seemed irrelevant to what would be said today and she was happy to be left in the background as the two of them discussed their arrangements.

Shuffling down the stairs, she was very much aware of Arktos behind them; as he followed them into the room and took up residence near their side. A part of her wanted to slug him and then wrap her arms around him in a great big hug. But from the way Lukos had nudged her off the ship the other night, she wasn’t sure if he’d be receptive of that. Their interests had merged in those final weeks on the island. After Arktos had saved Lukos from almost drowning they seemed to have an unspoken agreement that Lukos was their common ground; their best interest. Like two co-conspirators aligning to protect a child. ..Even if Lukos was anything but. She could understand how Arktos could come to the conclusion that she’d reneged on that agreement. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Everything she’d done thus far was, to her estimation, a way to protect him. Protect him from being hauled in by her brother and Athenia for kidnapping her and being publicly executed, and protecting him from Elias. So while giving up his name went against what she said she would do, in the end, it would provide him, his men and their families a future.

At least that’s how she justified her betrayal now that their feud had ended.

After the contracts were offered, Lukos left them to their own devices for a while in the cramped space. The room had taken a sort of comfortable grip on her heart in the time she’d been gone. It was her safe space several times and, moreso, a place for her and Lukos to escape when surrounded by so many crewmen on the ship. It was small without much character and devoid of any personal effects or charm that the palace had. It was wooden and bare and she didn’t like Persephone being there. Not because it was where Lukos slept or any childish motives of jealousy like that, but because with her in the room it somehow made the room seem unworthy of her affection for it. She’d seen how she looked around when they’d entered; how her eyes fell on the chains on the wall and then the bed and Thalia blushed with her; stepping in front of the chains as if to hide them from her scrutiny… as if she was somehow ashamed of them..and she was, but she’d all but forgotten them. Blocked them from her mind.
The sooner they could get this done and Persephone could leave, the happier she’d be.

Lukos returned with Bianor soon after and the contracts were read through. The second two were more surprising to her than that of the land and title. She should have expected the princess to have a backup plan. Lukos sat down at the table for Thalia. ...But there was no way to know that he would stay at the table. That he wouldn’t rethink his feelings for her and walk away at a crucial moment. She couldn’t fault her for the safety net. Instead, she watched Lukos silently. Whatever happened between them had no bearing here and now. They would figure out what to do about her engagement later when it was more time sensitive. Saving the monarchy was her only concern. But would Lukos agree to hand over ownership to the ship? That remained to be seen. The Aceton was his whole livelihood. It was the livelihood of his crew and all the people on the island. Persephone had basically asked him to give up his kingdom until the senate meeting. That was no small feat.

Persephone's features didn't change as Lukos made his frustration clear and his counter rebuttal verbalised into the tension-filled air. She watched as he snatched up the stylus and ink from the diminutive scribe and took up the third scroll - the one she required that he sign for their agreement to go ahead. He hovered, poised over the table top to give her just that but Persephone wasn't the kind of person to jump on an offering the second it was presented. She was a calculator, a thinker... someone who knew to consider all angles of an argument and decision before she was impetuous enough to take it.

The only outward sign of a reaction in her was a momentary flickering of her eyelids in surprise when the man mentioned Thalia's engagement.

Determined not to look back at the woman in frustration, Persephone's mind made a flurry of leaps of logic. The engagement was a private affair between Nikolaos and Antonis; a hasty arrangement made in order to protect and conceal Thalia's lack of chastity. It had been a lucky connection for the Nikolaos family and one that had surprised the Antonis Head of House, as well as Aimaios - the advisor who had helped Persephone in arranging the match's paperwork. It had been pure miracle that a royal family son - even a third born one - would wish to unify with the daughter of a noble house - especially one with so many rumours that had been attempted to quash ever since her return.

Which meant there was no way that such news had spread into the streets and into gossip-monger territory. Nor, had the event been mentioned at their last meeting; a last meeting that had clearly been their first since they had been parted.

Which meant that Thalia had seen Lukos since their last engagement. And had failed to tell Persephone... She had let her walk into this meeting half blind.

Determined not to allow Lukos to know such a thing, however, Persephone merely stood calmly for a moment before folding her arms across her chest, elegantly but with a firm resolve.

"I cannot break an engagement between the Nikolaos and Antonis Houses without good reason." She told the man. "Such a union would raise Thalia's station the highest it will go with her current reputation. Which is, as it is, thanks to you by the way." Her moment of sassiness was accompanied by a hard look in the eye. Then she blinked and paused and her mind appeared thoughtful. "Then again..."

Glancing between Thalia and Lukos for a moment and then licking her lips in thought, her mind taking a different tactic, working out if it was even valid and whether or not it held negative results for her own endeavours. She quickly came to the conclusion that it was worth the proposal...

"I could always offer the House of Nikolaos the agreement of Thalia being made a baroness through her marriage instead." Persephone offered speculatively. "It's the only arrangement that gives her higher status than a lower born royal... So, which baron would you have me marry her to... Lord Lukos?" She asked pointedly, ignoring Thalia entirely in the conversation.

Was Persephone frustrated and annoyed that she hadn't been clued into their secret rendezvouses? Yes. Did that mean she would marry her off without her say so out of prideful spite? Not at all. But she would do it for her kingdom... One person's happiness meant nothing when considering the future of Athenia in the hands of a Stravos.

He didn’t know the inner workings of noble houses. But he understood connections, their importance to one’s social standing and business. How difficult it would be to break her engagement was irrelevant. If Persephone could give him one of the more important baronies, a marriage contract was nothing to his mind. With only the knowledge of an outsider, he knew that the Nikolaos and Antonis union would be advantageous to Thalia.

The fact of the matter was he didn’t care. All of this, putting himself in danger to doublecross Elias, giving up the life he’d known, turning over his damn ship to a monarch he was not obligated to bend his knee to, was for Thalia. For her and her alone, he would do what was asked. But if he could not have her? If he was expected to watch her be given to someone else and merely have the knowledge that she loved him to keep in his heart at night?

Persephone seemed unphased by his sudden demand and this, in turn, kept him even tempered. She was not outwardly concerned and this told him that while she might not want to give into this last demand, she could if she so chose. And more than that, her silence betrayed that she was willing.

He stayed at the table, eyes on the document and pen poised as she explained the difficulty to herself and to Thalia’s family that such a break would cause. Here again, Persephone seemed to be appealing to some part of Lukos that simply wasn’t there. Thalia’s family meant nothing to him. They were people he’d never met and who would hate the sight of him if they knew who and what he was, both to them and their daughter.

He said nothing. Persephone did not seem to need him to answer. Her voice took on a distant, contemplative tone as she spoke aloud and worked out how to salvage Thalia’s potential further damaged reputation; marriage to himself. At that, he laid down the quill and straightened up, fixing his gaze on Persephone’s.

Marriage. Where once it had appealed to him, he’d since learned he didn’t need it. Until Thalia had demanded to come back to Athenia, their arrangement had been mutually satisfactory. But that was on the island where there was no one among the noble houses to judge her and to ostracize her. The mainland had different rules.

He opened his mouth and started to tell Persephone that, yes, he would, but Thalia’s anger erupted before he could get further than the first few words.

“Do I not get a say in this matter?” She demanded.

“Antonis or me,” Lukos trained his gaze on her. “You don’t get both.”

If she loved him like she said she did the other night, then to him, this wasn’t an issue. It was her turn to choose. Did her love and want extend passed the judgements and stares she would receive? She’d told him that she would sail away with him if he asked it of her, that they could forget Persephone and Elias. He didn’t doubt that she wanted him. If both Elias and Persephone’s threats weren’t certain to be carried out, then he wouldn’t be standing here, ready to sign over the ship for a few days and give up his true freedom forever.

He was ready to live with the consequences of his desire to be with her. This was her test; she was willing to run away with him, but was she willing to live with the societal ramifications of publicly allying herself with him?

In the corner, Arktos shifted, frowning between Persephone, Thalia and Lukos. Bianor kept staring at them all as it finally dawned on him that Thalia’s house was quite important and that somehow, Lukos had managed to climb even higher. The old man stood up in a huff and went to stand next to Arktos, who had to press into the wall to make room.

This meeting was supposed to have been simple. Persephone would give him the documents to the barony, and he would agree to testify. Except that she’d counter demanded his ship as insurance while offering her collateral in return. And he’d pushed further. This was the only chance that he could see to break Thalia’s engagement.

Of course she would make it difficult.

His fingers twitched at his sides as she almost accused him of doing this simply to keep her away from Antonis - which was true. For the past couple of days, he’d gone around and around with himself, trying to decide whether or not to bend to what he knew she would do if allowed. It was simply easier for her to go along with her family’s decision, to not bring further shame. But while she was content to live a life of self punishment, Lukos was not.

For as long as he could remember, he’d had to fight for what he wanted and now? He’d do it again. To be where he was, to live as long as he had, he never accepted ‘no’. Pushback was expected. That she was challenging him now did not waver his resolve. If anything, it intensified it.

“….You want to spend the rest of your life...however long it is… tied indefinitely to me…?” she finished.

His gaze flicked from her to Arktos behind her. The large man was shaking his head emphatically but Lukos looked back to Thalia and nodded his assent.

“Very well. Then you ask me. I won’t be part of a contract, Lukos. If you want me to marry you, then ask me.”

The temptation to get in her face was tempered by their audience. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. She would make this difficult. The outcome was the same. Why do it this way? She hadn’t done this when the arrangement for her current engagement was made. He knew she hadn’t gotten in her father’s face to demand he ask her permission. But of course, she would do this to him.

Behind her, Arktos was making a backhanding motion, attempting to remind him of their conversation a few months ago about how to handle mouthy women.

“You are such a pain in my ass,” he said from behind his fist, resting it against his mouth as he stared her down. A pause, and and then, “Fuck it. Thalia. Will you marry me?”

Arktos swore. Bianor looked at Thalia as though she’d lost her mind and then gave the same look to Persephone. The whole world had gone upside down and only he could see it.