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The hour was late, far too late for a lady of the house Leventi to be out roaming the port of Vasiliádon alone, then again some may have found it unseemly for a lady of her position to be seen at all at the port. It was, after all, the place where the lowest members of Taengea gathered in their droves, a place where Eirini herself had once been familiar with.
With the sun having set beyond the horizon, the sky was a hue of deep purple and blue, the depth of night readily upon them and still Eirini kept to the shadows, her back pressed against a wall to keep from view and from the attentions of those who stumbled from the taverns, or down the gangplanks of docked ships, eager for the company of a woman. She may have craved the attentions of men at court, but Eirini had risen so far that even a lasting glance from one of these sea-dogs would have churned her stomach in disgust and offence.
It was also why she had dressed inconspicuously that evening, free from vibrancy and the adornment of jewels, a himation draped over her hair head and fastened like a hood to keep her features shaded – none would glance upon her as a lady of worth from a distance, it would only be if they came closer and saw the gloss of her hair and the gentle firmness of her flesh free from grime and unpleasant smells. Fortunately, she had no intention on letting anyone get that close.
Even the man she had been watching for near enough an hour now. Lukos may have been her brother yet Eirini had very little desire on divulging that truth to him.
She had known about him almost the entirety of his life and whilst she had always been curious about the son her father had sired with some Colchian slave, she had never cared to know him... not until that week anyhow. Eirini had employed people to keep her informed upon his actions over the years, and it was clear to see that their lives would not easily mix anymore, not with his current profession – she could only imagine what Fotios would say. Yet, upon the news that his ship had docked in Taengea, Eirini felt a strong lure to the docks of Vasiliádon.
Just one look, that was all she had told herself when her husband had announced that business would take him away from home for a few days, and there likely wouldn't be another chance. What she hadn't expected, was to spot him instantly. Indeed, it had taken Eirini a little by surprise at how much he looked like their father and she had not been able to keep her gaze from him since.
Honeyed (and slightly awed) hues watched as he conversed, drank and made merry, but she had kept to the shadows, absentmindedly following him for far longer than she had anticipated she would but she simply could not pull away, even as he broke away from his crew and travelled up one of the darkened passages, she followed...against her better judgement.
Keeping some distance, Eirini came to a sudden stop when she came face to face with an imposing wall blocking the way. An uneasy feeling came upon her, as though she was like a lamb to the slaughter, her heart thumped like thunder in her ears at the realisation that she had fallen into a trap. "Gods above." She uttered quietly, the hairs prickling upon her arms as she slowly turned...
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The hour was late, far too late for a lady of the house Leventi to be out roaming the port of Vasiliádon alone, then again some may have found it unseemly for a lady of her position to be seen at all at the port. It was, after all, the place where the lowest members of Taengea gathered in their droves, a place where Eirini herself had once been familiar with.
With the sun having set beyond the horizon, the sky was a hue of deep purple and blue, the depth of night readily upon them and still Eirini kept to the shadows, her back pressed against a wall to keep from view and from the attentions of those who stumbled from the taverns, or down the gangplanks of docked ships, eager for the company of a woman. She may have craved the attentions of men at court, but Eirini had risen so far that even a lasting glance from one of these sea-dogs would have churned her stomach in disgust and offence.
It was also why she had dressed inconspicuously that evening, free from vibrancy and the adornment of jewels, a himation draped over her hair head and fastened like a hood to keep her features shaded – none would glance upon her as a lady of worth from a distance, it would only be if they came closer and saw the gloss of her hair and the gentle firmness of her flesh free from grime and unpleasant smells. Fortunately, she had no intention on letting anyone get that close.
Even the man she had been watching for near enough an hour now. Lukos may have been her brother yet Eirini had very little desire on divulging that truth to him.
She had known about him almost the entirety of his life and whilst she had always been curious about the son her father had sired with some Colchian slave, she had never cared to know him... not until that week anyhow. Eirini had employed people to keep her informed upon his actions over the years, and it was clear to see that their lives would not easily mix anymore, not with his current profession – she could only imagine what Fotios would say. Yet, upon the news that his ship had docked in Taengea, Eirini felt a strong lure to the docks of Vasiliádon.
Just one look, that was all she had told herself when her husband had announced that business would take him away from home for a few days, and there likely wouldn't be another chance. What she hadn't expected, was to spot him instantly. Indeed, it had taken Eirini a little by surprise at how much he looked like their father and she had not been able to keep her gaze from him since.
Honeyed (and slightly awed) hues watched as he conversed, drank and made merry, but she had kept to the shadows, absentmindedly following him for far longer than she had anticipated she would but she simply could not pull away, even as he broke away from his crew and travelled up one of the darkened passages, she followed...against her better judgement.
Keeping some distance, Eirini came to a sudden stop when she came face to face with an imposing wall blocking the way. An uneasy feeling came upon her, as though she was like a lamb to the slaughter, her heart thumped like thunder in her ears at the realisation that she had fallen into a trap. "Gods above." She uttered quietly, the hairs prickling upon her arms as she slowly turned...
The hour was late, far too late for a lady of the house Leventi to be out roaming the port of Vasiliádon alone, then again some may have found it unseemly for a lady of her position to be seen at all at the port. It was, after all, the place where the lowest members of Taengea gathered in their droves, a place where Eirini herself had once been familiar with.
With the sun having set beyond the horizon, the sky was a hue of deep purple and blue, the depth of night readily upon them and still Eirini kept to the shadows, her back pressed against a wall to keep from view and from the attentions of those who stumbled from the taverns, or down the gangplanks of docked ships, eager for the company of a woman. She may have craved the attentions of men at court, but Eirini had risen so far that even a lasting glance from one of these sea-dogs would have churned her stomach in disgust and offence.
It was also why she had dressed inconspicuously that evening, free from vibrancy and the adornment of jewels, a himation draped over her hair head and fastened like a hood to keep her features shaded – none would glance upon her as a lady of worth from a distance, it would only be if they came closer and saw the gloss of her hair and the gentle firmness of her flesh free from grime and unpleasant smells. Fortunately, she had no intention on letting anyone get that close.
Even the man she had been watching for near enough an hour now. Lukos may have been her brother yet Eirini had very little desire on divulging that truth to him.
She had known about him almost the entirety of his life and whilst she had always been curious about the son her father had sired with some Colchian slave, she had never cared to know him... not until that week anyhow. Eirini had employed people to keep her informed upon his actions over the years, and it was clear to see that their lives would not easily mix anymore, not with his current profession – she could only imagine what Fotios would say. Yet, upon the news that his ship had docked in Taengea, Eirini felt a strong lure to the docks of Vasiliádon.
Just one look, that was all she had told herself when her husband had announced that business would take him away from home for a few days, and there likely wouldn't be another chance. What she hadn't expected, was to spot him instantly. Indeed, it had taken Eirini a little by surprise at how much he looked like their father and she had not been able to keep her gaze from him since.
Honeyed (and slightly awed) hues watched as he conversed, drank and made merry, but she had kept to the shadows, absentmindedly following him for far longer than she had anticipated she would but she simply could not pull away, even as he broke away from his crew and travelled up one of the darkened passages, she followed...against her better judgement.
Keeping some distance, Eirini came to a sudden stop when she came face to face with an imposing wall blocking the way. An uneasy feeling came upon her, as though she was like a lamb to the slaughter, her heart thumped like thunder in her ears at the realisation that she had fallen into a trap. "Gods above." She uttered quietly, the hairs prickling upon her arms as she slowly turned...
The whole of his morning and afternoon had been spent at the markets, offloading slaves, attempting to sell them to the highest bidder, and then from there, going from stall to stall, haggling with merchants about buying whatever he’d chosen to bring with him that trip, attempting to get even more coin. The pursuit of money was not his whole goal, but when he had to share it with about twenty five other sailors, the profits didn’t amount to as much as he would have liked. Most of his money, that he didn’t plunder from passing ships, went straight back into his ship to keep her afloat.
Then he’d returned to his ship to grab clean clothes and to drop the ones he was wearing off to a washer woman, where he’d pick them up tomorrow morning before he left port. The absolute best thing about getting into any city like this one was the bath houses. He didn’t have to wash from a bucket of sea water. By the time Eirni had seen him, he was clean enough but busy working his way towards a nice buzz with the wine that he and Arktos kept sharing between them.
With every slave sold and his cargo hold empty, all that was left to do was secure supplies for the island and then he’d be taking off toward home. He settled down on the deck of the ship, next to the massive, mountain of a man who served as his first mate, and fell into a betting game where they tossed lots. He couldn’t say what drew his eye exactly, but he glanced over and caught a woman looking toward the ship. Thinking nothing of it, he soon lost himself in the game again, laughing loudly when Arktos bellowed a string of curses following several losses.
Her presence would have been completely forgotten except that she kept standing there. Which was odd. No men took her anywhere to whore. She bought nothing. Spoke to no one.
Lukos was vaguely curious but not enough to do anything about it. He rose and led a goodly portion of his crew off the ship. From there, the men split different ways. Some went straight to the brothels, others off to the bathhouses because they hadn’t gotten the chance earlier in the day, still others to taverns or gambling dens. A few were content with the dock whores that may or may not be women.
He walked with Arktos, the two of them bantering back and forth, arguing the finer points of navigating stars at night, when he gave the big man a shove. Arktos feigned offense and stumped off down the main street. To avoid him, Lukos veered into a side street, but once he’d whipped around the corner, he glanced behind him, back the way he’d come. His body was pressed to the wall and he peered down the street with as little of himself visible as possible, spotting the figure of the woman who’d been watching him earlier. She was definitely following him.
For a few seconds, his dark gaze swept the ground at his feet, thinking. He couldn’t come up with any reason she would have to tail him, except that she meant nothing but trouble. And he’d been having such a good day. Casting his eyes skyward for a moment, he tried to remember the twists and turns in this particular city. Thankfully, his memory was excellent and his reflexes even more so. As easily as an alley cat, he led her on a merry little dance through the back allies, intending to get her disoriented and completely turned around, which he managed to do in the end.
The second she’d taken a wrong turn and ended up staring down an alley with no exit, he stepped into the entrance, blocking her escape. He heard her mutter what almost sounded like a soft prayer. Slowly, she turned and he got a good look at her face for the first time. She was older than he was but one of the more beautiful women he’d ever seen. Shame she was covering her hair.
“You’re an interesting whore,” he said lightly, snatching at her head covering and exposing hair as dark as his own. “Aren’t women supposed to be a bit more vocal about what they want?” He took another step toward her, intending to back her down the alleyway. His right hand reached behind him for the dirk he kept in his belt but he didn’t unsheath it just yet. He kept his fingers closed around the hilt, having no compunction whatsoever about slitting her throat at the first sign that she meant him harm. "Instead of skulking in the shadows?" He sneered. "All you had to do was ask."
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The whole of his morning and afternoon had been spent at the markets, offloading slaves, attempting to sell them to the highest bidder, and then from there, going from stall to stall, haggling with merchants about buying whatever he’d chosen to bring with him that trip, attempting to get even more coin. The pursuit of money was not his whole goal, but when he had to share it with about twenty five other sailors, the profits didn’t amount to as much as he would have liked. Most of his money, that he didn’t plunder from passing ships, went straight back into his ship to keep her afloat.
Then he’d returned to his ship to grab clean clothes and to drop the ones he was wearing off to a washer woman, where he’d pick them up tomorrow morning before he left port. The absolute best thing about getting into any city like this one was the bath houses. He didn’t have to wash from a bucket of sea water. By the time Eirni had seen him, he was clean enough but busy working his way towards a nice buzz with the wine that he and Arktos kept sharing between them.
With every slave sold and his cargo hold empty, all that was left to do was secure supplies for the island and then he’d be taking off toward home. He settled down on the deck of the ship, next to the massive, mountain of a man who served as his first mate, and fell into a betting game where they tossed lots. He couldn’t say what drew his eye exactly, but he glanced over and caught a woman looking toward the ship. Thinking nothing of it, he soon lost himself in the game again, laughing loudly when Arktos bellowed a string of curses following several losses.
Her presence would have been completely forgotten except that she kept standing there. Which was odd. No men took her anywhere to whore. She bought nothing. Spoke to no one.
Lukos was vaguely curious but not enough to do anything about it. He rose and led a goodly portion of his crew off the ship. From there, the men split different ways. Some went straight to the brothels, others off to the bathhouses because they hadn’t gotten the chance earlier in the day, still others to taverns or gambling dens. A few were content with the dock whores that may or may not be women.
He walked with Arktos, the two of them bantering back and forth, arguing the finer points of navigating stars at night, when he gave the big man a shove. Arktos feigned offense and stumped off down the main street. To avoid him, Lukos veered into a side street, but once he’d whipped around the corner, he glanced behind him, back the way he’d come. His body was pressed to the wall and he peered down the street with as little of himself visible as possible, spotting the figure of the woman who’d been watching him earlier. She was definitely following him.
For a few seconds, his dark gaze swept the ground at his feet, thinking. He couldn’t come up with any reason she would have to tail him, except that she meant nothing but trouble. And he’d been having such a good day. Casting his eyes skyward for a moment, he tried to remember the twists and turns in this particular city. Thankfully, his memory was excellent and his reflexes even more so. As easily as an alley cat, he led her on a merry little dance through the back allies, intending to get her disoriented and completely turned around, which he managed to do in the end.
The second she’d taken a wrong turn and ended up staring down an alley with no exit, he stepped into the entrance, blocking her escape. He heard her mutter what almost sounded like a soft prayer. Slowly, she turned and he got a good look at her face for the first time. She was older than he was but one of the more beautiful women he’d ever seen. Shame she was covering her hair.
“You’re an interesting whore,” he said lightly, snatching at her head covering and exposing hair as dark as his own. “Aren’t women supposed to be a bit more vocal about what they want?” He took another step toward her, intending to back her down the alleyway. His right hand reached behind him for the dirk he kept in his belt but he didn’t unsheath it just yet. He kept his fingers closed around the hilt, having no compunction whatsoever about slitting her throat at the first sign that she meant him harm. "Instead of skulking in the shadows?" He sneered. "All you had to do was ask."
The whole of his morning and afternoon had been spent at the markets, offloading slaves, attempting to sell them to the highest bidder, and then from there, going from stall to stall, haggling with merchants about buying whatever he’d chosen to bring with him that trip, attempting to get even more coin. The pursuit of money was not his whole goal, but when he had to share it with about twenty five other sailors, the profits didn’t amount to as much as he would have liked. Most of his money, that he didn’t plunder from passing ships, went straight back into his ship to keep her afloat.
Then he’d returned to his ship to grab clean clothes and to drop the ones he was wearing off to a washer woman, where he’d pick them up tomorrow morning before he left port. The absolute best thing about getting into any city like this one was the bath houses. He didn’t have to wash from a bucket of sea water. By the time Eirni had seen him, he was clean enough but busy working his way towards a nice buzz with the wine that he and Arktos kept sharing between them.
With every slave sold and his cargo hold empty, all that was left to do was secure supplies for the island and then he’d be taking off toward home. He settled down on the deck of the ship, next to the massive, mountain of a man who served as his first mate, and fell into a betting game where they tossed lots. He couldn’t say what drew his eye exactly, but he glanced over and caught a woman looking toward the ship. Thinking nothing of it, he soon lost himself in the game again, laughing loudly when Arktos bellowed a string of curses following several losses.
Her presence would have been completely forgotten except that she kept standing there. Which was odd. No men took her anywhere to whore. She bought nothing. Spoke to no one.
Lukos was vaguely curious but not enough to do anything about it. He rose and led a goodly portion of his crew off the ship. From there, the men split different ways. Some went straight to the brothels, others off to the bathhouses because they hadn’t gotten the chance earlier in the day, still others to taverns or gambling dens. A few were content with the dock whores that may or may not be women.
He walked with Arktos, the two of them bantering back and forth, arguing the finer points of navigating stars at night, when he gave the big man a shove. Arktos feigned offense and stumped off down the main street. To avoid him, Lukos veered into a side street, but once he’d whipped around the corner, he glanced behind him, back the way he’d come. His body was pressed to the wall and he peered down the street with as little of himself visible as possible, spotting the figure of the woman who’d been watching him earlier. She was definitely following him.
For a few seconds, his dark gaze swept the ground at his feet, thinking. He couldn’t come up with any reason she would have to tail him, except that she meant nothing but trouble. And he’d been having such a good day. Casting his eyes skyward for a moment, he tried to remember the twists and turns in this particular city. Thankfully, his memory was excellent and his reflexes even more so. As easily as an alley cat, he led her on a merry little dance through the back allies, intending to get her disoriented and completely turned around, which he managed to do in the end.
The second she’d taken a wrong turn and ended up staring down an alley with no exit, he stepped into the entrance, blocking her escape. He heard her mutter what almost sounded like a soft prayer. Slowly, she turned and he got a good look at her face for the first time. She was older than he was but one of the more beautiful women he’d ever seen. Shame she was covering her hair.
“You’re an interesting whore,” he said lightly, snatching at her head covering and exposing hair as dark as his own. “Aren’t women supposed to be a bit more vocal about what they want?” He took another step toward her, intending to back her down the alleyway. His right hand reached behind him for the dirk he kept in his belt but he didn’t unsheath it just yet. He kept his fingers closed around the hilt, having no compunction whatsoever about slitting her throat at the first sign that she meant him harm. "Instead of skulking in the shadows?" He sneered. "All you had to do was ask."
Eirini was a woman whose every action was cunning and calculated, well thought out and strategic ––– this night she had acted upon a whim and look where it had gotten her; she was cornered in a darkened alleyway with a man whose nefarious reputation she was well aware of. It was nothing short of foolhardy and she silently chastised herself in heavy critique of her own actions...that was the most irksome thing about all of this, surprisingly not so much about his hand grasping the hilt of his sword.
"I'm not a whore." She responded firmly, flinching slightly as his hand snatched at the material covering her hair; the darkness of which they evidently shared. From such a close proximity, Eirini could see a whole host of similarities between them; the shape of their eyes, the structure of their jaw, but most distinct was his resemblance to their father, a man whom she hadn't seen in almost thirty years. It took her aback somewhat, to behold the vision of man she loathed and yet secretly yearned for.
With every step that he took forward, Eirini took one back until her back was pressed flush against the cool wall, her chest heaving heavily with uncertain breaths. Gods above, she couldn't keep from staring at him and yet upon his question, she seemed to snap out of her daze. "What?" Brows furrowed and her full, reddened lips pressed into a line. "Do not be obscene, I am certainly not here for that." Eirini could concede that he was a handsome man and yet, even if he was not her blood, she would not have lowered herself –– she was a woman of stature, beauty and elegance, she certainly did not rut in the streets with a pirate.
She had not expected to converse with him this day (or any for that matter) and so she had not contemplated having to reveal her identity, or even if she ever wanted to, though it was safe to say that every second spent in his presence made all the less eager to do so. There was a natural curiosity, however, about the possibility of gaining blood kin; for the longest time she had not even thought about those on her side, the Leventi's were so utterly consuming that Eirini seldom had time to think about any other. Yet here was flesh and blood stood before her, a brother whom she had known about for years and yet deemed unworthy of her attentions and that resolute certainty that they were both better off without their familial ties being brought to light, was starting to wane.
Lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes, Eirini quickly reinforced her previous sentiments. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
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Eirini was a woman whose every action was cunning and calculated, well thought out and strategic ––– this night she had acted upon a whim and look where it had gotten her; she was cornered in a darkened alleyway with a man whose nefarious reputation she was well aware of. It was nothing short of foolhardy and she silently chastised herself in heavy critique of her own actions...that was the most irksome thing about all of this, surprisingly not so much about his hand grasping the hilt of his sword.
"I'm not a whore." She responded firmly, flinching slightly as his hand snatched at the material covering her hair; the darkness of which they evidently shared. From such a close proximity, Eirini could see a whole host of similarities between them; the shape of their eyes, the structure of their jaw, but most distinct was his resemblance to their father, a man whom she hadn't seen in almost thirty years. It took her aback somewhat, to behold the vision of man she loathed and yet secretly yearned for.
With every step that he took forward, Eirini took one back until her back was pressed flush against the cool wall, her chest heaving heavily with uncertain breaths. Gods above, she couldn't keep from staring at him and yet upon his question, she seemed to snap out of her daze. "What?" Brows furrowed and her full, reddened lips pressed into a line. "Do not be obscene, I am certainly not here for that." Eirini could concede that he was a handsome man and yet, even if he was not her blood, she would not have lowered herself –– she was a woman of stature, beauty and elegance, she certainly did not rut in the streets with a pirate.
She had not expected to converse with him this day (or any for that matter) and so she had not contemplated having to reveal her identity, or even if she ever wanted to, though it was safe to say that every second spent in his presence made all the less eager to do so. There was a natural curiosity, however, about the possibility of gaining blood kin; for the longest time she had not even thought about those on her side, the Leventi's were so utterly consuming that Eirini seldom had time to think about any other. Yet here was flesh and blood stood before her, a brother whom she had known about for years and yet deemed unworthy of her attentions and that resolute certainty that they were both better off without their familial ties being brought to light, was starting to wane.
Lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes, Eirini quickly reinforced her previous sentiments. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
Eirini was a woman whose every action was cunning and calculated, well thought out and strategic ––– this night she had acted upon a whim and look where it had gotten her; she was cornered in a darkened alleyway with a man whose nefarious reputation she was well aware of. It was nothing short of foolhardy and she silently chastised herself in heavy critique of her own actions...that was the most irksome thing about all of this, surprisingly not so much about his hand grasping the hilt of his sword.
"I'm not a whore." She responded firmly, flinching slightly as his hand snatched at the material covering her hair; the darkness of which they evidently shared. From such a close proximity, Eirini could see a whole host of similarities between them; the shape of their eyes, the structure of their jaw, but most distinct was his resemblance to their father, a man whom she hadn't seen in almost thirty years. It took her aback somewhat, to behold the vision of man she loathed and yet secretly yearned for.
With every step that he took forward, Eirini took one back until her back was pressed flush against the cool wall, her chest heaving heavily with uncertain breaths. Gods above, she couldn't keep from staring at him and yet upon his question, she seemed to snap out of her daze. "What?" Brows furrowed and her full, reddened lips pressed into a line. "Do not be obscene, I am certainly not here for that." Eirini could concede that he was a handsome man and yet, even if he was not her blood, she would not have lowered herself –– she was a woman of stature, beauty and elegance, she certainly did not rut in the streets with a pirate.
She had not expected to converse with him this day (or any for that matter) and so she had not contemplated having to reveal her identity, or even if she ever wanted to, though it was safe to say that every second spent in his presence made all the less eager to do so. There was a natural curiosity, however, about the possibility of gaining blood kin; for the longest time she had not even thought about those on her side, the Leventi's were so utterly consuming that Eirini seldom had time to think about any other. Yet here was flesh and blood stood before her, a brother whom she had known about for years and yet deemed unworthy of her attentions and that resolute certainty that they were both better off without their familial ties being brought to light, was starting to wane.
Lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes, Eirini quickly reinforced her previous sentiments. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
"I'm not a whore."
He smiled at that. “You are fairly well dressed for one.” Her clothes didn’t look like they’d come off as easily as a whore might want or need them to. These looked like they buttoned and clipped in specific places, not meant for immediate removal and constant redressing all night. He believed her when she said she wasn’t a whore, but he didn’t feel like confirming that to her.
She kept speaking in a haughty rush, assuring him that he was far, far beneath her. Evidently she wanted something, though he couldn’t begin to guess her real purpose. His mind had already turned to the possibility that she was some wayward girl’s mother, wanting something material from him in exchange for the ruination of her daughter. As he didn’t usually stray far from the docks, he’d turn her immediately away if that was her reason; any girl down at the docks was already ruined.
Then, she gave the weakest reason he’d ever heard in his life. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
That made him laugh. “Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?” Only high born women ordered him around this way. He’d met enough of them by now to pick them out from not only their clothing, but their manner of speaking. Peasant girls were taught to mind men better than these rich girls were.
He was a cat with a toy now, and he liked to see how much he could needle her into giving away her true intentions. Letting go of his knife, he brought both hands up onto the wall behind her, effectively blocking her in.
“You know what I think?” he said quietly. “I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?” There was no way she’d have followed someone like him on a case of mistaken identity. She’d seen what ship he came from and that meant that she knew exactly who he was. He wanted to know what a woman like this was doing skulking around in the middle of the night, tailing him, of all people.
This close, he had an excellent chance to study her features. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t immediately dredge up who. He hadn’t seen his father since he was eight and never once had the man mentioned any other family. So far as Lukos knew, he was completely alone. It didn’t occur to him to imagine that the woman he had trapped against the wall might be kin to him.
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"I'm not a whore."
He smiled at that. “You are fairly well dressed for one.” Her clothes didn’t look like they’d come off as easily as a whore might want or need them to. These looked like they buttoned and clipped in specific places, not meant for immediate removal and constant redressing all night. He believed her when she said she wasn’t a whore, but he didn’t feel like confirming that to her.
She kept speaking in a haughty rush, assuring him that he was far, far beneath her. Evidently she wanted something, though he couldn’t begin to guess her real purpose. His mind had already turned to the possibility that she was some wayward girl’s mother, wanting something material from him in exchange for the ruination of her daughter. As he didn’t usually stray far from the docks, he’d turn her immediately away if that was her reason; any girl down at the docks was already ruined.
Then, she gave the weakest reason he’d ever heard in his life. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
That made him laugh. “Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?” Only high born women ordered him around this way. He’d met enough of them by now to pick them out from not only their clothing, but their manner of speaking. Peasant girls were taught to mind men better than these rich girls were.
He was a cat with a toy now, and he liked to see how much he could needle her into giving away her true intentions. Letting go of his knife, he brought both hands up onto the wall behind her, effectively blocking her in.
“You know what I think?” he said quietly. “I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?” There was no way she’d have followed someone like him on a case of mistaken identity. She’d seen what ship he came from and that meant that she knew exactly who he was. He wanted to know what a woman like this was doing skulking around in the middle of the night, tailing him, of all people.
This close, he had an excellent chance to study her features. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t immediately dredge up who. He hadn’t seen his father since he was eight and never once had the man mentioned any other family. So far as Lukos knew, he was completely alone. It didn’t occur to him to imagine that the woman he had trapped against the wall might be kin to him.
"I'm not a whore."
He smiled at that. “You are fairly well dressed for one.” Her clothes didn’t look like they’d come off as easily as a whore might want or need them to. These looked like they buttoned and clipped in specific places, not meant for immediate removal and constant redressing all night. He believed her when she said she wasn’t a whore, but he didn’t feel like confirming that to her.
She kept speaking in a haughty rush, assuring him that he was far, far beneath her. Evidently she wanted something, though he couldn’t begin to guess her real purpose. His mind had already turned to the possibility that she was some wayward girl’s mother, wanting something material from him in exchange for the ruination of her daughter. As he didn’t usually stray far from the docks, he’d turn her immediately away if that was her reason; any girl down at the docks was already ruined.
Then, she gave the weakest reason he’d ever heard in his life. "I want nothing to do with you, merely a case of mistaken identity now be gone with you before I call the guard and see you flogged."
That made him laugh. “Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?” Only high born women ordered him around this way. He’d met enough of them by now to pick them out from not only their clothing, but their manner of speaking. Peasant girls were taught to mind men better than these rich girls were.
He was a cat with a toy now, and he liked to see how much he could needle her into giving away her true intentions. Letting go of his knife, he brought both hands up onto the wall behind her, effectively blocking her in.
“You know what I think?” he said quietly. “I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?” There was no way she’d have followed someone like him on a case of mistaken identity. She’d seen what ship he came from and that meant that she knew exactly who he was. He wanted to know what a woman like this was doing skulking around in the middle of the night, tailing him, of all people.
This close, he had an excellent chance to study her features. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t immediately dredge up who. He hadn’t seen his father since he was eight and never once had the man mentioned any other family. So far as Lukos knew, he was completely alone. It didn’t occur to him to imagine that the woman he had trapped against the wall might be kin to him.
"Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?"
They were words that Eirini hastily scoffed at. Firstly for the assumption that she was a noble born –– she roamed these very streets long before he came into the world –– and secondly, the accusation that her husband couldn't satisfy her. If only Fotios had been around to hear that ! Regardless, now was hardly the time to pick out the inaccuracies within his statement.
Instead she fixed him with a pointed look, her features pinched and yet dark eyes ( quite similar to his own ) penetrated deeply. "I will not even dignify that question with a reply." Eirini forced through gritted teeth, her palms pressing against the wall as he sheathed his blade and pinned her to spot with his hands above her.
Eirini's display of resolve would have likely signalled to him that she was no ordinary noblewoman. She did not cower in fear or plead and weep, instead she held steadfast and unflinching –– she had dealt with far worse than him in her life.
"You know what I think? .... I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?" Her jaw clenched at the accusation, fists balling at her side; he was proving to be more of an inconvenience and irritating now, opposed to a threat. Regardless, it became apparent to Eirini that now might be a good time for the admittance of her purpose... not that she particularly expected him to believe her, which was part of the reason she hadn't wanted to converse with him in the first place.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
It was a blunt statement, extremely matter-of-fact and one lacking any form of warmth or feeling. He had asked for the truth and now he had it. Yet her gaze did soften somewhat, if only to allow a roll of her eyes. "That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " her words faltered at the sudden bitterness upon her tongue, " – he is my father also. I am Eirini."
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"Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?"
They were words that Eirini hastily scoffed at. Firstly for the assumption that she was a noble born –– she roamed these very streets long before he came into the world –– and secondly, the accusation that her husband couldn't satisfy her. If only Fotios had been around to hear that ! Regardless, now was hardly the time to pick out the inaccuracies within his statement.
Instead she fixed him with a pointed look, her features pinched and yet dark eyes ( quite similar to his own ) penetrated deeply. "I will not even dignify that question with a reply." Eirini forced through gritted teeth, her palms pressing against the wall as he sheathed his blade and pinned her to spot with his hands above her.
Eirini's display of resolve would have likely signalled to him that she was no ordinary noblewoman. She did not cower in fear or plead and weep, instead she held steadfast and unflinching –– she had dealt with far worse than him in her life.
"You know what I think? .... I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?" Her jaw clenched at the accusation, fists balling at her side; he was proving to be more of an inconvenience and irritating now, opposed to a threat. Regardless, it became apparent to Eirini that now might be a good time for the admittance of her purpose... not that she particularly expected him to believe her, which was part of the reason she hadn't wanted to converse with him in the first place.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
It was a blunt statement, extremely matter-of-fact and one lacking any form of warmth or feeling. He had asked for the truth and now he had it. Yet her gaze did soften somewhat, if only to allow a roll of her eyes. "That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " her words faltered at the sudden bitterness upon her tongue, " – he is my father also. I am Eirini."
"Oh, I see. So you’re a noble woman, cruising the docks and lost your nerve, I think. What, your husband doesn’t satisfy you? Thought you’d come slumming it but changed your mind?"
They were words that Eirini hastily scoffed at. Firstly for the assumption that she was a noble born –– she roamed these very streets long before he came into the world –– and secondly, the accusation that her husband couldn't satisfy her. If only Fotios had been around to hear that ! Regardless, now was hardly the time to pick out the inaccuracies within his statement.
Instead she fixed him with a pointed look, her features pinched and yet dark eyes ( quite similar to his own ) penetrated deeply. "I will not even dignify that question with a reply." Eirini forced through gritted teeth, her palms pressing against the wall as he sheathed his blade and pinned her to spot with his hands above her.
Eirini's display of resolve would have likely signalled to him that she was no ordinary noblewoman. She did not cower in fear or plead and weep, instead she held steadfast and unflinching –– she had dealt with far worse than him in her life.
"You know what I think? .... I think you’re a bad liar. What do you want?" Her jaw clenched at the accusation, fists balling at her side; he was proving to be more of an inconvenience and irritating now, opposed to a threat. Regardless, it became apparent to Eirini that now might be a good time for the admittance of her purpose... not that she particularly expected him to believe her, which was part of the reason she hadn't wanted to converse with him in the first place.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
It was a blunt statement, extremely matter-of-fact and one lacking any form of warmth or feeling. He had asked for the truth and now he had it. Yet her gaze did soften somewhat, if only to allow a roll of her eyes. "That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " her words faltered at the sudden bitterness upon her tongue, " – he is my father also. I am Eirini."
This one had a bit of fire in her, but the upper class tended to retain their haughty dignity right up until the moment where they figured out their situation was hopeless. He grinned at her narrowed eyes and full, pursed lips. With his hands on either side of her head, She drew herself up and said with great dignity that she wasn’t going to reply to his accusation that she was ‘slumming it’.
“I think you just did,” he teased.
What he’d been looking for was for her to quail and shrink down from him, or to decide that she liked what he was doing. Usually women like this responded to him in one of those two ways. Either they loved to be dominated or they began to fear, sometimes rightly so, for their safety. She piqued his interest by doing neither of these things. She merely kept glaring right up into his face, clearly daring him to make good on his unspoken threats.
He watched her considering him and he found her internal war interesting, wondering what lie she was going to come up with next. Likely she wasn’t going to beg her way out of this. Possibly she’d order him to stand aside, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he was already grinning, his snarky reply on the tip of his tongue.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
Lukos drew in breath and had already half launched into the hilarious sarcasm that he’d had ready, but stopped. His dark brows drew together and he dropped one hand away from the wall, putting it on his hip. He narrowed his eyes, assessing her face again.
“Bullshit,” he said flatly, then pushed away from the wall, putting a foot of distance between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit,” he said again, a little defensively. There were so few people who could get him off balance and he’d found one of them. Of all the things that women had told him over the years, this was definitely a first.
"That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " while she rolled her eyes and searched for the right words, his heartbeat accelerated.
“How do you know that name?” he snapped, not expecting to get this angry this quickly at just hearing it. His arms tightened across his chest like armor, like he could protect himself against this sort of talk.
" – he is my father also. I am Eirini." She finished, sounding every bit as unhappy about that fact as he was to share the same blood with that man.
“I’ve never heard of you,” he tilted his head and stepped toward her again, his gaze devouring her face anew, looking again at the similarities he’d noticed earlier and suddenly realizing why he’d seen them. She was telling the truth. “Where is that bastard?” he didn’t dull the edge in his voice. “I’m gonna kill him.” Not that this was any sort of incentive for her to tell him where their father might be at that very moment, but he’d stopped thinking rationally in the face of this news.
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This one had a bit of fire in her, but the upper class tended to retain their haughty dignity right up until the moment where they figured out their situation was hopeless. He grinned at her narrowed eyes and full, pursed lips. With his hands on either side of her head, She drew herself up and said with great dignity that she wasn’t going to reply to his accusation that she was ‘slumming it’.
“I think you just did,” he teased.
What he’d been looking for was for her to quail and shrink down from him, or to decide that she liked what he was doing. Usually women like this responded to him in one of those two ways. Either they loved to be dominated or they began to fear, sometimes rightly so, for their safety. She piqued his interest by doing neither of these things. She merely kept glaring right up into his face, clearly daring him to make good on his unspoken threats.
He watched her considering him and he found her internal war interesting, wondering what lie she was going to come up with next. Likely she wasn’t going to beg her way out of this. Possibly she’d order him to stand aside, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he was already grinning, his snarky reply on the tip of his tongue.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
Lukos drew in breath and had already half launched into the hilarious sarcasm that he’d had ready, but stopped. His dark brows drew together and he dropped one hand away from the wall, putting it on his hip. He narrowed his eyes, assessing her face again.
“Bullshit,” he said flatly, then pushed away from the wall, putting a foot of distance between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit,” he said again, a little defensively. There were so few people who could get him off balance and he’d found one of them. Of all the things that women had told him over the years, this was definitely a first.
"That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " while she rolled her eyes and searched for the right words, his heartbeat accelerated.
“How do you know that name?” he snapped, not expecting to get this angry this quickly at just hearing it. His arms tightened across his chest like armor, like he could protect himself against this sort of talk.
" – he is my father also. I am Eirini." She finished, sounding every bit as unhappy about that fact as he was to share the same blood with that man.
“I’ve never heard of you,” he tilted his head and stepped toward her again, his gaze devouring her face anew, looking again at the similarities he’d noticed earlier and suddenly realizing why he’d seen them. She was telling the truth. “Where is that bastard?” he didn’t dull the edge in his voice. “I’m gonna kill him.” Not that this was any sort of incentive for her to tell him where their father might be at that very moment, but he’d stopped thinking rationally in the face of this news.
This one had a bit of fire in her, but the upper class tended to retain their haughty dignity right up until the moment where they figured out their situation was hopeless. He grinned at her narrowed eyes and full, pursed lips. With his hands on either side of her head, She drew herself up and said with great dignity that she wasn’t going to reply to his accusation that she was ‘slumming it’.
“I think you just did,” he teased.
What he’d been looking for was for her to quail and shrink down from him, or to decide that she liked what he was doing. Usually women like this responded to him in one of those two ways. Either they loved to be dominated or they began to fear, sometimes rightly so, for their safety. She piqued his interest by doing neither of these things. She merely kept glaring right up into his face, clearly daring him to make good on his unspoken threats.
He watched her considering him and he found her internal war interesting, wondering what lie she was going to come up with next. Likely she wasn’t going to beg her way out of this. Possibly she’d order him to stand aside, and when she opened her mouth to speak, he was already grinning, his snarky reply on the tip of his tongue.
"Very well... I'm your sister."
Lukos drew in breath and had already half launched into the hilarious sarcasm that he’d had ready, but stopped. His dark brows drew together and he dropped one hand away from the wall, putting it on his hip. He narrowed his eyes, assessing her face again.
“Bullshit,” he said flatly, then pushed away from the wall, putting a foot of distance between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “Bullshit,” he said again, a little defensively. There were so few people who could get him off balance and he’d found one of them. Of all the things that women had told him over the years, this was definitely a first.
"That is, if you are Lukos, the son of Kleitos .... he is – " while she rolled her eyes and searched for the right words, his heartbeat accelerated.
“How do you know that name?” he snapped, not expecting to get this angry this quickly at just hearing it. His arms tightened across his chest like armor, like he could protect himself against this sort of talk.
" – he is my father also. I am Eirini." She finished, sounding every bit as unhappy about that fact as he was to share the same blood with that man.
“I’ve never heard of you,” he tilted his head and stepped toward her again, his gaze devouring her face anew, looking again at the similarities he’d noticed earlier and suddenly realizing why he’d seen them. She was telling the truth. “Where is that bastard?” he didn’t dull the edge in his voice. “I’m gonna kill him.” Not that this was any sort of incentive for her to tell him where their father might be at that very moment, but he’d stopped thinking rationally in the face of this news.
His reaction was worthy of the stage, Eirini silently mused to himself, but then again she hadn't really fathomed what to expect, she'd had very little to no intention to ever divulging the truth –– alas, she hadn't been quite as stealthy as she thought she had been. She continued to study his features with mild amusement; defensiveness and impulsiveness seemed to be family traits.
"I've never heard of you."
Any amusement that had glimmered in her gaze quickly dissipated at his remark, her countenance hardening as she built up her own defences. Oh, Eirini had known he wouldn't have a clue to her existence, yet still in the deepest chasms of her mind she had dared to hope that Kleitos might have thought of her once or twice. After all, he had once claimed her to be his most "treasured possession" –– the bastard.
A sigh of irritability fell from her lips and her own arms folded tightly across her chest; never had two people looked more alike than they did in that moment. "I can't say i'm surprised." Came her scoff of indifference. "And I do not know where he is, the man abandoned me after my mother died... he could be dead in a ditch for all I care." Moments of silence passed between them, and with another sigh the steeliness of her facade slipped away.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink." Pushing passed Lukos, Eirini walked a few steps ahead before adding, "are you coming or what?" Without looking back, she continued to walk in the direction of a tavern she was familiar with and truthfully, it mattered little whether he followed her or not... the decision was his to make, though if he was anything like her at all, then he would have questions.
Before entering the establishment, Eirini made sure to fix the shawl over her hair in hopes that it might mask her identity somewhat. Slipping inside, she claimed a secluded booth over in the corner and waited a moment to see if he joined her before attracting the wenches attention.
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His reaction was worthy of the stage, Eirini silently mused to himself, but then again she hadn't really fathomed what to expect, she'd had very little to no intention to ever divulging the truth –– alas, she hadn't been quite as stealthy as she thought she had been. She continued to study his features with mild amusement; defensiveness and impulsiveness seemed to be family traits.
"I've never heard of you."
Any amusement that had glimmered in her gaze quickly dissipated at his remark, her countenance hardening as she built up her own defences. Oh, Eirini had known he wouldn't have a clue to her existence, yet still in the deepest chasms of her mind she had dared to hope that Kleitos might have thought of her once or twice. After all, he had once claimed her to be his most "treasured possession" –– the bastard.
A sigh of irritability fell from her lips and her own arms folded tightly across her chest; never had two people looked more alike than they did in that moment. "I can't say i'm surprised." Came her scoff of indifference. "And I do not know where he is, the man abandoned me after my mother died... he could be dead in a ditch for all I care." Moments of silence passed between them, and with another sigh the steeliness of her facade slipped away.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink." Pushing passed Lukos, Eirini walked a few steps ahead before adding, "are you coming or what?" Without looking back, she continued to walk in the direction of a tavern she was familiar with and truthfully, it mattered little whether he followed her or not... the decision was his to make, though if he was anything like her at all, then he would have questions.
Before entering the establishment, Eirini made sure to fix the shawl over her hair in hopes that it might mask her identity somewhat. Slipping inside, she claimed a secluded booth over in the corner and waited a moment to see if he joined her before attracting the wenches attention.
His reaction was worthy of the stage, Eirini silently mused to himself, but then again she hadn't really fathomed what to expect, she'd had very little to no intention to ever divulging the truth –– alas, she hadn't been quite as stealthy as she thought she had been. She continued to study his features with mild amusement; defensiveness and impulsiveness seemed to be family traits.
"I've never heard of you."
Any amusement that had glimmered in her gaze quickly dissipated at his remark, her countenance hardening as she built up her own defences. Oh, Eirini had known he wouldn't have a clue to her existence, yet still in the deepest chasms of her mind she had dared to hope that Kleitos might have thought of her once or twice. After all, he had once claimed her to be his most "treasured possession" –– the bastard.
A sigh of irritability fell from her lips and her own arms folded tightly across her chest; never had two people looked more alike than they did in that moment. "I can't say i'm surprised." Came her scoff of indifference. "And I do not know where he is, the man abandoned me after my mother died... he could be dead in a ditch for all I care." Moments of silence passed between them, and with another sigh the steeliness of her facade slipped away.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink." Pushing passed Lukos, Eirini walked a few steps ahead before adding, "are you coming or what?" Without looking back, she continued to walk in the direction of a tavern she was familiar with and truthfully, it mattered little whether he followed her or not... the decision was his to make, though if he was anything like her at all, then he would have questions.
Before entering the establishment, Eirini made sure to fix the shawl over her hair in hopes that it might mask her identity somewhat. Slipping inside, she claimed a secluded booth over in the corner and waited a moment to see if he joined her before attracting the wenches attention.
He didn’t like the amusement she took in his displeasure, but a smirk curled on his lips as the glimmer died in her eyes, leaving behind flat black glass in its wake. While he didn’t mind smugness in himself, he hated it in others. That hers was gone gave him a sense of superiority; that he’d taken control back of the situation. That feeling didn’t last long as she snapped out at him that their father’s location was no more known to her than to himself. Lukos frowned, grin fading. He was positive he didn’t want to see the man - that was never in question, but if he knew where Kleitos was settled, it’d be easier to avoid him or murder him. If he grew bored enough of his own life to go and stab the past in his craggy face.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink,” Eirini said. She pushed past him, having to touch him as she did it and he looked down at where her shoulder had brushed his chest. Sister? That notion was so far removed from anything he’d ever considered to be in his life that he was a little unsure what to do with her. The additional shock that she wanted a drink made him laugh if a clipped, humorless sort of way. His gaze raked her form again, taking note of her fine clothes, evident even in the darkness. What a spectacle she’d make in the taverns he knew. As though sensing his hesitation in going with her, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "are you coming or what?"
He stayed put for a second or two longer, letting her outpace him, before slowly moving out of the alleyway, following along in her wake; the tall shadow at her back. Not walking abreast with her, he chose to stay just behind her at her shoulder, peering over at the part of her profile that he could see. The tip of her nose, the outline of her lips, her chin, her dark lashes. How did such a creature ever come from his father? Kleitos was, in a word, ugly. At least, that was how Lukos remembered him. Though, Lukos was handsome in his own way. Not classically so, but his features lent themselves a certain harsh charm that some women found appealing.
They moved together through the darkness, at one point being met by Arktos, who Lukos waved impatiently away. If he was going to drink with Eirini, he didn’t want his first mate to be in the way. He didn’t trust Arktos not to make Eirini run in the other direction. At the moment, Lukos was trying to work out if this long lost sister could be of use to him in some way. Why was she dressed so fine? Was she a courtesan? Could be with a body like that. Out of habit, he began to think of her in monetary terms, calculating her worth and what he’d have sold her for. He only stopped doing this once they reached the tavern. It was nicer than the ones he usually went to but he moved around the tables easily enough, forcing his way in front of her in order to lead her to the corner table closest to the door and furthest from the mammoth fireplace. The one in the shadows that someone would really have to concentrate on right when entering the door to make out their faces.
Lukos sat down and ordered himself a beer. He wanted the alcohol but not too much of it and though he liked wine, he felt it was too sweet for the conversation he imagined they were going to have. Once they were settled, he looked meaningfully at her clothes and said, “So what’s this getup then?”
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He didn’t like the amusement she took in his displeasure, but a smirk curled on his lips as the glimmer died in her eyes, leaving behind flat black glass in its wake. While he didn’t mind smugness in himself, he hated it in others. That hers was gone gave him a sense of superiority; that he’d taken control back of the situation. That feeling didn’t last long as she snapped out at him that their father’s location was no more known to her than to himself. Lukos frowned, grin fading. He was positive he didn’t want to see the man - that was never in question, but if he knew where Kleitos was settled, it’d be easier to avoid him or murder him. If he grew bored enough of his own life to go and stab the past in his craggy face.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink,” Eirini said. She pushed past him, having to touch him as she did it and he looked down at where her shoulder had brushed his chest. Sister? That notion was so far removed from anything he’d ever considered to be in his life that he was a little unsure what to do with her. The additional shock that she wanted a drink made him laugh if a clipped, humorless sort of way. His gaze raked her form again, taking note of her fine clothes, evident even in the darkness. What a spectacle she’d make in the taverns he knew. As though sensing his hesitation in going with her, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "are you coming or what?"
He stayed put for a second or two longer, letting her outpace him, before slowly moving out of the alleyway, following along in her wake; the tall shadow at her back. Not walking abreast with her, he chose to stay just behind her at her shoulder, peering over at the part of her profile that he could see. The tip of her nose, the outline of her lips, her chin, her dark lashes. How did such a creature ever come from his father? Kleitos was, in a word, ugly. At least, that was how Lukos remembered him. Though, Lukos was handsome in his own way. Not classically so, but his features lent themselves a certain harsh charm that some women found appealing.
They moved together through the darkness, at one point being met by Arktos, who Lukos waved impatiently away. If he was going to drink with Eirini, he didn’t want his first mate to be in the way. He didn’t trust Arktos not to make Eirini run in the other direction. At the moment, Lukos was trying to work out if this long lost sister could be of use to him in some way. Why was she dressed so fine? Was she a courtesan? Could be with a body like that. Out of habit, he began to think of her in monetary terms, calculating her worth and what he’d have sold her for. He only stopped doing this once they reached the tavern. It was nicer than the ones he usually went to but he moved around the tables easily enough, forcing his way in front of her in order to lead her to the corner table closest to the door and furthest from the mammoth fireplace. The one in the shadows that someone would really have to concentrate on right when entering the door to make out their faces.
Lukos sat down and ordered himself a beer. He wanted the alcohol but not too much of it and though he liked wine, he felt it was too sweet for the conversation he imagined they were going to have. Once they were settled, he looked meaningfully at her clothes and said, “So what’s this getup then?”
He didn’t like the amusement she took in his displeasure, but a smirk curled on his lips as the glimmer died in her eyes, leaving behind flat black glass in its wake. While he didn’t mind smugness in himself, he hated it in others. That hers was gone gave him a sense of superiority; that he’d taken control back of the situation. That feeling didn’t last long as she snapped out at him that their father’s location was no more known to her than to himself. Lukos frowned, grin fading. He was positive he didn’t want to see the man - that was never in question, but if he knew where Kleitos was settled, it’d be easier to avoid him or murder him. If he grew bored enough of his own life to go and stab the past in his craggy face.
"I don't know about you, but I am in desperate need of a drink,” Eirini said. She pushed past him, having to touch him as she did it and he looked down at where her shoulder had brushed his chest. Sister? That notion was so far removed from anything he’d ever considered to be in his life that he was a little unsure what to do with her. The additional shock that she wanted a drink made him laugh if a clipped, humorless sort of way. His gaze raked her form again, taking note of her fine clothes, evident even in the darkness. What a spectacle she’d make in the taverns he knew. As though sensing his hesitation in going with her, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. "are you coming or what?"
He stayed put for a second or two longer, letting her outpace him, before slowly moving out of the alleyway, following along in her wake; the tall shadow at her back. Not walking abreast with her, he chose to stay just behind her at her shoulder, peering over at the part of her profile that he could see. The tip of her nose, the outline of her lips, her chin, her dark lashes. How did such a creature ever come from his father? Kleitos was, in a word, ugly. At least, that was how Lukos remembered him. Though, Lukos was handsome in his own way. Not classically so, but his features lent themselves a certain harsh charm that some women found appealing.
They moved together through the darkness, at one point being met by Arktos, who Lukos waved impatiently away. If he was going to drink with Eirini, he didn’t want his first mate to be in the way. He didn’t trust Arktos not to make Eirini run in the other direction. At the moment, Lukos was trying to work out if this long lost sister could be of use to him in some way. Why was she dressed so fine? Was she a courtesan? Could be with a body like that. Out of habit, he began to think of her in monetary terms, calculating her worth and what he’d have sold her for. He only stopped doing this once they reached the tavern. It was nicer than the ones he usually went to but he moved around the tables easily enough, forcing his way in front of her in order to lead her to the corner table closest to the door and furthest from the mammoth fireplace. The one in the shadows that someone would really have to concentrate on right when entering the door to make out their faces.
Lukos sat down and ordered himself a beer. He wanted the alcohol but not too much of it and though he liked wine, he felt it was too sweet for the conversation he imagined they were going to have. Once they were settled, he looked meaningfully at her clothes and said, “So what’s this getup then?”
After he ordered his beer, Eirini asked for wine and with a flick of her wrist dismissed the girl.
Her attentions turned back to Lukos then, her eyes darkened with scrutiny. Eirini had been kept ‘informed’ about him for years, yet she realised now that she truly knew next to nothing about him. Her only request of the man she frequently hired to look for him being, “see if he’s still alive.” Eirini was not entirely sure why she had preferred to keep it that way and never reach out, even today, though she had been overcome with an urge to see him, she’d had no intention at all in meeting him.
It was true that her position made it difficult for her to extend the olive branch to a fucking pirate of all things, but it could not be said that Eirini had ever shied away from going after what she wanted. The logical reasoning then would be to assume that she had wanted nothing to do with him, yet this also seemed to fall short in providing an explanation towards her motives.
Only the gods seemed to be privy to her reasonings, for Eirini herself certainly wasn’t.
Her brows furrowed at his question, glancing down at her own attire. Such finery had become the norm for Eirini since her marriage to Fotios, yet she could understand his confusion as to why a child of Kleitos could be able to afford such luxury items. She was quiet a moment, pondering what to say without giving away the name of the family she had married into – she would not subject her husband to this man, he was, after all, a stranger still.
“You mean clothing?” Eirini quipped in return, the look of mild amusement brightening her features. “It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings.” Of course she knew his true meaning, but was still trying to formulate an appropriate response. Fortunately, the server returned at that moment with their drinks and Eirini immediately brought the cup to her lips. Her nose wrinkled, it certainly wasn’t a fine as the wine they had back at home, but it would suffice.
Nails tapping against the table top, Eirini set down her cup and sat forward, leaning towards him a little. “I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband.” She explained quietly. Although the owner of the established who she had worked for was long gone, there were potentially still some people who might have recognised her.
In hopes that her explanation (no matter how vague) would be enough, Eirini shifted the topic of conversation back towards him. “I hear people call you a pirate, is this true?” With an arched brow, she brought the cup of wine back to her lips, partially masking her bemused smirk. “In fact, you seem to be quite notorious… for as much as you seem to despise our father, you certainly possess similarities.”
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After he ordered his beer, Eirini asked for wine and with a flick of her wrist dismissed the girl.
Her attentions turned back to Lukos then, her eyes darkened with scrutiny. Eirini had been kept ‘informed’ about him for years, yet she realised now that she truly knew next to nothing about him. Her only request of the man she frequently hired to look for him being, “see if he’s still alive.” Eirini was not entirely sure why she had preferred to keep it that way and never reach out, even today, though she had been overcome with an urge to see him, she’d had no intention at all in meeting him.
It was true that her position made it difficult for her to extend the olive branch to a fucking pirate of all things, but it could not be said that Eirini had ever shied away from going after what she wanted. The logical reasoning then would be to assume that she had wanted nothing to do with him, yet this also seemed to fall short in providing an explanation towards her motives.
Only the gods seemed to be privy to her reasonings, for Eirini herself certainly wasn’t.
Her brows furrowed at his question, glancing down at her own attire. Such finery had become the norm for Eirini since her marriage to Fotios, yet she could understand his confusion as to why a child of Kleitos could be able to afford such luxury items. She was quiet a moment, pondering what to say without giving away the name of the family she had married into – she would not subject her husband to this man, he was, after all, a stranger still.
“You mean clothing?” Eirini quipped in return, the look of mild amusement brightening her features. “It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings.” Of course she knew his true meaning, but was still trying to formulate an appropriate response. Fortunately, the server returned at that moment with their drinks and Eirini immediately brought the cup to her lips. Her nose wrinkled, it certainly wasn’t a fine as the wine they had back at home, but it would suffice.
Nails tapping against the table top, Eirini set down her cup and sat forward, leaning towards him a little. “I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband.” She explained quietly. Although the owner of the established who she had worked for was long gone, there were potentially still some people who might have recognised her.
In hopes that her explanation (no matter how vague) would be enough, Eirini shifted the topic of conversation back towards him. “I hear people call you a pirate, is this true?” With an arched brow, she brought the cup of wine back to her lips, partially masking her bemused smirk. “In fact, you seem to be quite notorious… for as much as you seem to despise our father, you certainly possess similarities.”
After he ordered his beer, Eirini asked for wine and with a flick of her wrist dismissed the girl.
Her attentions turned back to Lukos then, her eyes darkened with scrutiny. Eirini had been kept ‘informed’ about him for years, yet she realised now that she truly knew next to nothing about him. Her only request of the man she frequently hired to look for him being, “see if he’s still alive.” Eirini was not entirely sure why she had preferred to keep it that way and never reach out, even today, though she had been overcome with an urge to see him, she’d had no intention at all in meeting him.
It was true that her position made it difficult for her to extend the olive branch to a fucking pirate of all things, but it could not be said that Eirini had ever shied away from going after what she wanted. The logical reasoning then would be to assume that she had wanted nothing to do with him, yet this also seemed to fall short in providing an explanation towards her motives.
Only the gods seemed to be privy to her reasonings, for Eirini herself certainly wasn’t.
Her brows furrowed at his question, glancing down at her own attire. Such finery had become the norm for Eirini since her marriage to Fotios, yet she could understand his confusion as to why a child of Kleitos could be able to afford such luxury items. She was quiet a moment, pondering what to say without giving away the name of the family she had married into – she would not subject her husband to this man, he was, after all, a stranger still.
“You mean clothing?” Eirini quipped in return, the look of mild amusement brightening her features. “It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings.” Of course she knew his true meaning, but was still trying to formulate an appropriate response. Fortunately, the server returned at that moment with their drinks and Eirini immediately brought the cup to her lips. Her nose wrinkled, it certainly wasn’t a fine as the wine they had back at home, but it would suffice.
Nails tapping against the table top, Eirini set down her cup and sat forward, leaning towards him a little. “I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband.” She explained quietly. Although the owner of the established who she had worked for was long gone, there were potentially still some people who might have recognised her.
In hopes that her explanation (no matter how vague) would be enough, Eirini shifted the topic of conversation back towards him. “I hear people call you a pirate, is this true?” With an arched brow, she brought the cup of wine back to her lips, partially masking her bemused smirk. “In fact, you seem to be quite notorious… for as much as you seem to despise our father, you certainly possess similarities.”
"You mean clothing?" Eirini teased. Lukos smiled thinly. "It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings."
“Oh look,” he said through a sigh. “She’s funny.” He sprawled back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table, one foot sitting on the side of the other in an odd posture unique to himself. It wasn’t one he adopted in the presence of someone he was attempting to control. This woman, this...sister, he was simply curious about. He’d decide later what to do with her. For now, he was mostly willing to let her see him for what he was. Lukos looked down at his own hands where he fiddled with his thumbnail as the servant came up to give them their drinks. Unlike Eirini, he didn’t immediately grab his cup. His eyes flicked up and caught the wrinkle of her nose before he looked back down again, his own fidgeting more interesting than the obvious fact that she was too good for the wine in front of her.
The drumming of her nails drew his notice again. He set his hands in his lap, sighing again, and leveling her with a flat look as she set down her cup. "I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband." She said suddenly and Lukos tilted up his chin.
“Yeah?” he said in a distant voice and looked around. This place was not as much of a dump heap as some of the other places in town, but it was certainly too good for her now. His attention bounced from the roughian patrons to the warm glow of the fire in the huge grate, to the servant girl’s ass as she wandered away from their table. He looked back at Eirini. “Yet you married a rich man, then,” he surmised, his gaze remaining on her clothes. “Wonder how you managed that,” he grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows.
The conversation shifted away and Eirini placed it squarely back on himself, which made him pick up his beer and take a long draft, listening to her ask flat out if he was a pirate and paint him as a notorious ne’er-do-well. He avoided speaking for a few seconds, ingesting almost half the beer before he carefully set it on the table and flicked his dark eyes in her direction.
“How about we talk about something more interesting?” he suggested, not even a little tempted to confirm anything she’d just said. “Like you. How’d you know about me? Last time I saw that bastard, he’d left my mother with quite a few debts and a sullied reputation.”
It was not at all important to the conversation that Lukos had done this same scenario to countless women. Nor did he ever think on it. It was much easier just to live and move on, rather than dwelling over the choices of women who were happy enough to jump into his arms for the asking. It was their fault, not his, whatever the outcome. His mother was different, though. Because...well she’d been his mother. That made her the most wonderful person who’d ever lived. …..despite the fact that he had no clue what she looked like, nor could he remember what she’d sounded like, or what it’d felt like to be held or hugged by her. She was a complete mystery to him now and if she’d walked straight up to him on the street, he wouldn’t have known her.
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"You mean clothing?" Eirini teased. Lukos smiled thinly. "It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings."
“Oh look,” he said through a sigh. “She’s funny.” He sprawled back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table, one foot sitting on the side of the other in an odd posture unique to himself. It wasn’t one he adopted in the presence of someone he was attempting to control. This woman, this...sister, he was simply curious about. He’d decide later what to do with her. For now, he was mostly willing to let her see him for what he was. Lukos looked down at his own hands where he fiddled with his thumbnail as the servant came up to give them their drinks. Unlike Eirini, he didn’t immediately grab his cup. His eyes flicked up and caught the wrinkle of her nose before he looked back down again, his own fidgeting more interesting than the obvious fact that she was too good for the wine in front of her.
The drumming of her nails drew his notice again. He set his hands in his lap, sighing again, and leveling her with a flat look as she set down her cup. "I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband." She said suddenly and Lukos tilted up his chin.
“Yeah?” he said in a distant voice and looked around. This place was not as much of a dump heap as some of the other places in town, but it was certainly too good for her now. His attention bounced from the roughian patrons to the warm glow of the fire in the huge grate, to the servant girl’s ass as she wandered away from their table. He looked back at Eirini. “Yet you married a rich man, then,” he surmised, his gaze remaining on her clothes. “Wonder how you managed that,” he grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows.
The conversation shifted away and Eirini placed it squarely back on himself, which made him pick up his beer and take a long draft, listening to her ask flat out if he was a pirate and paint him as a notorious ne’er-do-well. He avoided speaking for a few seconds, ingesting almost half the beer before he carefully set it on the table and flicked his dark eyes in her direction.
“How about we talk about something more interesting?” he suggested, not even a little tempted to confirm anything she’d just said. “Like you. How’d you know about me? Last time I saw that bastard, he’d left my mother with quite a few debts and a sullied reputation.”
It was not at all important to the conversation that Lukos had done this same scenario to countless women. Nor did he ever think on it. It was much easier just to live and move on, rather than dwelling over the choices of women who were happy enough to jump into his arms for the asking. It was their fault, not his, whatever the outcome. His mother was different, though. Because...well she’d been his mother. That made her the most wonderful person who’d ever lived. …..despite the fact that he had no clue what she looked like, nor could he remember what she’d sounded like, or what it’d felt like to be held or hugged by her. She was a complete mystery to him now and if she’d walked straight up to him on the street, he wouldn’t have known her.
"You mean clothing?" Eirini teased. Lukos smiled thinly. "It is what you dress yourself in come the mornings."
“Oh look,” he said through a sigh. “She’s funny.” He sprawled back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table, one foot sitting on the side of the other in an odd posture unique to himself. It wasn’t one he adopted in the presence of someone he was attempting to control. This woman, this...sister, he was simply curious about. He’d decide later what to do with her. For now, he was mostly willing to let her see him for what he was. Lukos looked down at his own hands where he fiddled with his thumbnail as the servant came up to give them their drinks. Unlike Eirini, he didn’t immediately grab his cup. His eyes flicked up and caught the wrinkle of her nose before he looked back down again, his own fidgeting more interesting than the obvious fact that she was too good for the wine in front of her.
The drumming of her nails drew his notice again. He set his hands in his lap, sighing again, and leveling her with a flat look as she set down her cup. "I use to work here, many years ago… it is also the place where I met my husband." She said suddenly and Lukos tilted up his chin.
“Yeah?” he said in a distant voice and looked around. This place was not as much of a dump heap as some of the other places in town, but it was certainly too good for her now. His attention bounced from the roughian patrons to the warm glow of the fire in the huge grate, to the servant girl’s ass as she wandered away from their table. He looked back at Eirini. “Yet you married a rich man, then,” he surmised, his gaze remaining on her clothes. “Wonder how you managed that,” he grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows.
The conversation shifted away and Eirini placed it squarely back on himself, which made him pick up his beer and take a long draft, listening to her ask flat out if he was a pirate and paint him as a notorious ne’er-do-well. He avoided speaking for a few seconds, ingesting almost half the beer before he carefully set it on the table and flicked his dark eyes in her direction.
“How about we talk about something more interesting?” he suggested, not even a little tempted to confirm anything she’d just said. “Like you. How’d you know about me? Last time I saw that bastard, he’d left my mother with quite a few debts and a sullied reputation.”
It was not at all important to the conversation that Lukos had done this same scenario to countless women. Nor did he ever think on it. It was much easier just to live and move on, rather than dwelling over the choices of women who were happy enough to jump into his arms for the asking. It was their fault, not his, whatever the outcome. His mother was different, though. Because...well she’d been his mother. That made her the most wonderful person who’d ever lived. …..despite the fact that he had no clue what she looked like, nor could he remember what she’d sounded like, or what it’d felt like to be held or hugged by her. She was a complete mystery to him now and if she’d walked straight up to him on the street, he wouldn’t have known her.
Perhaps for the first time that evening, Eirini felt her features warm with genuine amusement at his retort. Not because it was particularly witty or clever, but for the sheer fact that it was exactly the response she would have given him. Of course, one little similarity didn't endear this man to her nor did it make him any less of a stranger but it did ease the tension in her shoulders a little bit. That was until he returned his calculating and familiar gaze to her person, a gaze that she easily recalled and yet hadn't been privy to for over twenty years –– he had theirs fathers dark eyes.
Yet, Eirini had never allowed herself to be intimidated by that man and she wasn't going to let this man do that either. Tightening her jaw, Eirini looked at him with her own hardened glare, watching him with curiosity as his eyes flittered about the room, apparently the inhabitants of which were more interesting than anything she had to say! Or perhaps he was just nervous... now that was a thought that Eirini found particularly amusing.
A small smile curled upon her lips as she sat back and raised her glass of wine to her lips, sipping the contents as she shook her head. "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." Despite her defensive remark, Eirini had to admit to being a little impressed by his accurate deduction. She had indeed married a wealthy man, the wealthiest in fact but she also had no intention of letting Lukos exploit that, like she suspected would be his motive. He was, after all, a pirate.
Agreeing to another change of topic, Eirini awaited his question and pondered her answer carefully. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you." She rose the glass to her lips again and drank away the bitter memory. "When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
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Perhaps for the first time that evening, Eirini felt her features warm with genuine amusement at his retort. Not because it was particularly witty or clever, but for the sheer fact that it was exactly the response she would have given him. Of course, one little similarity didn't endear this man to her nor did it make him any less of a stranger but it did ease the tension in her shoulders a little bit. That was until he returned his calculating and familiar gaze to her person, a gaze that she easily recalled and yet hadn't been privy to for over twenty years –– he had theirs fathers dark eyes.
Yet, Eirini had never allowed herself to be intimidated by that man and she wasn't going to let this man do that either. Tightening her jaw, Eirini looked at him with her own hardened glare, watching him with curiosity as his eyes flittered about the room, apparently the inhabitants of which were more interesting than anything she had to say! Or perhaps he was just nervous... now that was a thought that Eirini found particularly amusing.
A small smile curled upon her lips as she sat back and raised her glass of wine to her lips, sipping the contents as she shook her head. "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." Despite her defensive remark, Eirini had to admit to being a little impressed by his accurate deduction. She had indeed married a wealthy man, the wealthiest in fact but she also had no intention of letting Lukos exploit that, like she suspected would be his motive. He was, after all, a pirate.
Agreeing to another change of topic, Eirini awaited his question and pondered her answer carefully. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you." She rose the glass to her lips again and drank away the bitter memory. "When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
Perhaps for the first time that evening, Eirini felt her features warm with genuine amusement at his retort. Not because it was particularly witty or clever, but for the sheer fact that it was exactly the response she would have given him. Of course, one little similarity didn't endear this man to her nor did it make him any less of a stranger but it did ease the tension in her shoulders a little bit. That was until he returned his calculating and familiar gaze to her person, a gaze that she easily recalled and yet hadn't been privy to for over twenty years –– he had theirs fathers dark eyes.
Yet, Eirini had never allowed herself to be intimidated by that man and she wasn't going to let this man do that either. Tightening her jaw, Eirini looked at him with her own hardened glare, watching him with curiosity as his eyes flittered about the room, apparently the inhabitants of which were more interesting than anything she had to say! Or perhaps he was just nervous... now that was a thought that Eirini found particularly amusing.
A small smile curled upon her lips as she sat back and raised her glass of wine to her lips, sipping the contents as she shook her head. "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." Despite her defensive remark, Eirini had to admit to being a little impressed by his accurate deduction. She had indeed married a wealthy man, the wealthiest in fact but she also had no intention of letting Lukos exploit that, like she suspected would be his motive. He was, after all, a pirate.
Agreeing to another change of topic, Eirini awaited his question and pondered her answer carefully. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you." She rose the glass to her lips again and drank away the bitter memory. "When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
Apparently he’d hit a nerve with the money question. Lukos’s smirk mirrored Eirini’s as she took a quick sip of her wine and said, "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." To that, he raised his drink, smirk widening into a grin. Of course it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop a man from being entirely too curious. It didn’t matter if she was the one to tell him or if he heard it from one of the miscreants he fully planned on asking later. He’d find someone in this city who would remember her and where she came from, even if she chose to forget. The problem with rising from the ashes was that those still at the bottom never forgot the shooting star that got away. Patience was something Lukos could adopt when the situation suited him and he could wait for this.
To his question of how she knew about him, Eirini was kind enough to be fairly thorough in her answer. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you. When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
“Language,” Lukos tutted at her and grinned against his beer as he took a draft. “It’s not befitting a lady to curse.” Despite his sarcasm, he was listening to her. Why did their father keep in touch with her? Though, Lukos reflected, it wasn’t like his own situation had made him terribly reachable. On a nowhere island and then a ship that moved from place to place to place, it would be incredibly hard to track him down, which brought him around to what she’d said - she’d paid someone to track him down. That must have taken time.
He frowned and dropped the smirk. “And what do you think? Now that you’ve found me.” He was still trying to figure out what it was she wanted. Not money, obviously. His fingers tapped the side of the glass as he surveyed the woman in front of him. He was used to understanding people nearly immediately, but she was a mystery. Her wants were a mystery. She wanted something from him or she wouldn’t have paid to have him tracked down. But she’d been attempting to stay out of his life, too, and that further confused him. She’d wanted to see him but not have contact? ….why? There were so many questions he had and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them. Her very life was throwing him a little off balance because he hadn’t figured out what leverage he had over her as of yet.
“I’m sure a thriving merchant was just what you had in mind for your lost little brother.” He met her eyes but didn’t spill out what sort of hell hole his life had been. The details of it were sure to bore her and they weren’t fit for a room like this in any case. He didn’t want her pity and he certainly didn’t feel like reliving memory lane while there were other people within earshot.
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Apparently he’d hit a nerve with the money question. Lukos’s smirk mirrored Eirini’s as she took a quick sip of her wine and said, "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." To that, he raised his drink, smirk widening into a grin. Of course it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop a man from being entirely too curious. It didn’t matter if she was the one to tell him or if he heard it from one of the miscreants he fully planned on asking later. He’d find someone in this city who would remember her and where she came from, even if she chose to forget. The problem with rising from the ashes was that those still at the bottom never forgot the shooting star that got away. Patience was something Lukos could adopt when the situation suited him and he could wait for this.
To his question of how she knew about him, Eirini was kind enough to be fairly thorough in her answer. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you. When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
“Language,” Lukos tutted at her and grinned against his beer as he took a draft. “It’s not befitting a lady to curse.” Despite his sarcasm, he was listening to her. Why did their father keep in touch with her? Though, Lukos reflected, it wasn’t like his own situation had made him terribly reachable. On a nowhere island and then a ship that moved from place to place to place, it would be incredibly hard to track him down, which brought him around to what she’d said - she’d paid someone to track him down. That must have taken time.
He frowned and dropped the smirk. “And what do you think? Now that you’ve found me.” He was still trying to figure out what it was she wanted. Not money, obviously. His fingers tapped the side of the glass as he surveyed the woman in front of him. He was used to understanding people nearly immediately, but she was a mystery. Her wants were a mystery. She wanted something from him or she wouldn’t have paid to have him tracked down. But she’d been attempting to stay out of his life, too, and that further confused him. She’d wanted to see him but not have contact? ….why? There were so many questions he had and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them. Her very life was throwing him a little off balance because he hadn’t figured out what leverage he had over her as of yet.
“I’m sure a thriving merchant was just what you had in mind for your lost little brother.” He met her eyes but didn’t spill out what sort of hell hole his life had been. The details of it were sure to bore her and they weren’t fit for a room like this in any case. He didn’t want her pity and he certainly didn’t feel like reliving memory lane while there were other people within earshot.
Apparently he’d hit a nerve with the money question. Lukos’s smirk mirrored Eirini’s as she took a quick sip of her wine and said, "The financial status of my husband is of no concern of yours, nor how I managed to acquire him." To that, he raised his drink, smirk widening into a grin. Of course it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop a man from being entirely too curious. It didn’t matter if she was the one to tell him or if he heard it from one of the miscreants he fully planned on asking later. He’d find someone in this city who would remember her and where she came from, even if she chose to forget. The problem with rising from the ashes was that those still at the bottom never forgot the shooting star that got away. Patience was something Lukos could adopt when the situation suited him and he could wait for this.
To his question of how she knew about him, Eirini was kind enough to be fairly thorough in her answer. "I've known about you for a long time.. he wrote to me, after my mother died and he had fucked off somewhere – wrote to tell me about you. You'll forgive me for not reaching out at the time but I was fifteen, on the streets and quite frankly I had more to worry about than you. When I became of means, I guess you could say I was curious about you and so I paid a man to track you down... and here we are."
“Language,” Lukos tutted at her and grinned against his beer as he took a draft. “It’s not befitting a lady to curse.” Despite his sarcasm, he was listening to her. Why did their father keep in touch with her? Though, Lukos reflected, it wasn’t like his own situation had made him terribly reachable. On a nowhere island and then a ship that moved from place to place to place, it would be incredibly hard to track him down, which brought him around to what she’d said - she’d paid someone to track him down. That must have taken time.
He frowned and dropped the smirk. “And what do you think? Now that you’ve found me.” He was still trying to figure out what it was she wanted. Not money, obviously. His fingers tapped the side of the glass as he surveyed the woman in front of him. He was used to understanding people nearly immediately, but she was a mystery. Her wants were a mystery. She wanted something from him or she wouldn’t have paid to have him tracked down. But she’d been attempting to stay out of his life, too, and that further confused him. She’d wanted to see him but not have contact? ….why? There were so many questions he had and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with them. Her very life was throwing him a little off balance because he hadn’t figured out what leverage he had over her as of yet.
“I’m sure a thriving merchant was just what you had in mind for your lost little brother.” He met her eyes but didn’t spill out what sort of hell hole his life had been. The details of it were sure to bore her and they weren’t fit for a room like this in any case. He didn’t want her pity and he certainly didn’t feel like reliving memory lane while there were other people within earshot.
Eirini had been around arrogant men all her life, so Lukos' air of hubris did little to deter or intimidate the raven haired woman, in fact, she found it oddly familiar. It was not the same as her husband or the other men at court, whose vanity and pride were formulated by fortune, titles and breeding. No, this was something quite different to that, it was an earthy pride and vanity, the type developed by fear, intimidation and rising from the ashes ... the same that had echoed within her father. The similarities were truly astounding between father and son, and Eirini had to confess to being a little taken aback by Lukos.
Yet, there was one noticeable absence. For as much as Lukos reminded Eirini of Kleitos, the familiar burning rage that consumed her when she thought about her father, was not present. Irritation, most definitely. Especially at the brazen cheek of some of his question, but even with her frustrations there was also a lingering sentiment of amusement. “Language... It’s not befitting a lady to curse.”
Eyes rolled in a blatant manner as she sipped at her bitter wine, and pulling the cup away from her lips slightly, Eirini rebuked, "and it is not befitting a man of your... means, to speak to a lady in such a condescending manner." Head tilted, her jaw set with the hint of a smirk upon her lips, but hers slipped as his did and casting aside the little games and cleaver rebuttals, Eirini truly looked at her kin, lips pursed as though she was deep in thought.
She studied him intently. Watching as his inner thoughts played out upon his features and although she would not claim to know what was troubling him, or what he was questioning himself, she recognised his confusion – it was something they shared.
When Eirini had married Fotios, she had essentially closed the door to her past, especially to Kleitos and all the drama and heartache that came with him. She had moved on, bettered herself in every way possible and although she had been curious about her half-brother, the very fact that she had never met him enabled Eirini to move on from him also. Perhaps that was part of the reason why her desire to meet him was lacking, his anonymity made him easier to put to the back of her mind, whereas now his face and his manner would be cause for distraction.
Eirini didn't answer his question on what she thought about him, but she did give a little humorous scoff at his second one. "Is that what they are calling pirates these days?" A sigh followed and with a small shake of her head, Eirini briefly dipped her gaze. "I think I should like to see where spend most of your time..." she paused, raising her eyes to meet him again. "...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?"
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Eirini had been around arrogant men all her life, so Lukos' air of hubris did little to deter or intimidate the raven haired woman, in fact, she found it oddly familiar. It was not the same as her husband or the other men at court, whose vanity and pride were formulated by fortune, titles and breeding. No, this was something quite different to that, it was an earthy pride and vanity, the type developed by fear, intimidation and rising from the ashes ... the same that had echoed within her father. The similarities were truly astounding between father and son, and Eirini had to confess to being a little taken aback by Lukos.
Yet, there was one noticeable absence. For as much as Lukos reminded Eirini of Kleitos, the familiar burning rage that consumed her when she thought about her father, was not present. Irritation, most definitely. Especially at the brazen cheek of some of his question, but even with her frustrations there was also a lingering sentiment of amusement. “Language... It’s not befitting a lady to curse.”
Eyes rolled in a blatant manner as she sipped at her bitter wine, and pulling the cup away from her lips slightly, Eirini rebuked, "and it is not befitting a man of your... means, to speak to a lady in such a condescending manner." Head tilted, her jaw set with the hint of a smirk upon her lips, but hers slipped as his did and casting aside the little games and cleaver rebuttals, Eirini truly looked at her kin, lips pursed as though she was deep in thought.
She studied him intently. Watching as his inner thoughts played out upon his features and although she would not claim to know what was troubling him, or what he was questioning himself, she recognised his confusion – it was something they shared.
When Eirini had married Fotios, she had essentially closed the door to her past, especially to Kleitos and all the drama and heartache that came with him. She had moved on, bettered herself in every way possible and although she had been curious about her half-brother, the very fact that she had never met him enabled Eirini to move on from him also. Perhaps that was part of the reason why her desire to meet him was lacking, his anonymity made him easier to put to the back of her mind, whereas now his face and his manner would be cause for distraction.
Eirini didn't answer his question on what she thought about him, but she did give a little humorous scoff at his second one. "Is that what they are calling pirates these days?" A sigh followed and with a small shake of her head, Eirini briefly dipped her gaze. "I think I should like to see where spend most of your time..." she paused, raising her eyes to meet him again. "...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?"
Eirini had been around arrogant men all her life, so Lukos' air of hubris did little to deter or intimidate the raven haired woman, in fact, she found it oddly familiar. It was not the same as her husband or the other men at court, whose vanity and pride were formulated by fortune, titles and breeding. No, this was something quite different to that, it was an earthy pride and vanity, the type developed by fear, intimidation and rising from the ashes ... the same that had echoed within her father. The similarities were truly astounding between father and son, and Eirini had to confess to being a little taken aback by Lukos.
Yet, there was one noticeable absence. For as much as Lukos reminded Eirini of Kleitos, the familiar burning rage that consumed her when she thought about her father, was not present. Irritation, most definitely. Especially at the brazen cheek of some of his question, but even with her frustrations there was also a lingering sentiment of amusement. “Language... It’s not befitting a lady to curse.”
Eyes rolled in a blatant manner as she sipped at her bitter wine, and pulling the cup away from her lips slightly, Eirini rebuked, "and it is not befitting a man of your... means, to speak to a lady in such a condescending manner." Head tilted, her jaw set with the hint of a smirk upon her lips, but hers slipped as his did and casting aside the little games and cleaver rebuttals, Eirini truly looked at her kin, lips pursed as though she was deep in thought.
She studied him intently. Watching as his inner thoughts played out upon his features and although she would not claim to know what was troubling him, or what he was questioning himself, she recognised his confusion – it was something they shared.
When Eirini had married Fotios, she had essentially closed the door to her past, especially to Kleitos and all the drama and heartache that came with him. She had moved on, bettered herself in every way possible and although she had been curious about her half-brother, the very fact that she had never met him enabled Eirini to move on from him also. Perhaps that was part of the reason why her desire to meet him was lacking, his anonymity made him easier to put to the back of her mind, whereas now his face and his manner would be cause for distraction.
Eirini didn't answer his question on what she thought about him, but she did give a little humorous scoff at his second one. "Is that what they are calling pirates these days?" A sigh followed and with a small shake of her head, Eirini briefly dipped her gaze. "I think I should like to see where spend most of your time..." she paused, raising her eyes to meet him again. "...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?"
“Is that what they are calling pirates these days?” She shook her head and Lukos merely shrugged.
“I do take legitimate, lucrative contracts. If I need a hobby on the side, I don’t see the harm.” Besides, there wasn’t anything quite like riding on the prow of his ship as it bore down on a fellow merchant ship. It was hard to put into words what it felt like to look at something, decide you wanted it, and not let anyone stop you from taking it. Most people would do that if they could, few had either the opportunity or the gall; he had both.
“I think I should like to see where you spend most of your time… Lukos hesitated, looking her over sharply. “...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?” she went on smoothly and he sighed through his nose, finishing off in a few swallows the rest of his drink.
“It’ll taste like fresh horse piss,” he said and tossed a coin onto the table, only paying for his own. She could pay for hers, surely. He only waited long enough for her to choose to pay or not before leading the way out the door and back into the balmy night. Lukos was a firm believer in women’s independence and that they could most definitely fend for themselves if push came to shove. It was partially that and partially because he didn’t feel like it that he didn’t baby his newfound sister. He did not look back to make sure she was following or slow his pace for her to keep up. If she was truly blood related to him, he was confident she could and would at least find her way back to his ship even if he lost her through the maze of back alleys. If not by simple knowledge of where she was, the smell of the coast should be enough to draw her. Over the salty brine of the air lay the stink of dead fish in piles, waiting to be carted to market. Of men’s sweat and dock whores, of piss in the corners of buildings and a general weight in the air that hung around places of business and poverty. In the day time, this was somewhat overpowered by merchants offloading wares of spices and overlaid with the unique tang animals. At night? It was perfumes of the desperate and depraved.
The Aceton sat where they’d left it, though Arktos had found his way back to it by then and was back to the dice game that he and Lukos had been toying around with when Lukos left. The men looked up when Lukos boarded but their eyes landed unfriendly and leering on his guest. He didn’t swat them or tell them to keep their tongues in their head. He merely turned and held up his arms. “My kingdom,” he said to his sister and then nudged Arktos’s butt with his boot.
“This is my first mate, Arktos. That idiot there is our cook,” he said, pointing to another man who did not react to the insult. “And that old piece of seaweed is Catos.” What exactly Catos’s job on this ship was, Lukos never did say but the old, wiry man he’d pointed to rose in a more dignified manner than the rest and stuck out a gnarled, weathered hand to Eirini.
”My lady,” he gave her a short bow but plopped back down, his good manners now expended.
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“Is that what they are calling pirates these days?” She shook her head and Lukos merely shrugged.
“I do take legitimate, lucrative contracts. If I need a hobby on the side, I don’t see the harm.” Besides, there wasn’t anything quite like riding on the prow of his ship as it bore down on a fellow merchant ship. It was hard to put into words what it felt like to look at something, decide you wanted it, and not let anyone stop you from taking it. Most people would do that if they could, few had either the opportunity or the gall; he had both.
“I think I should like to see where you spend most of your time… Lukos hesitated, looking her over sharply. “...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?” she went on smoothly and he sighed through his nose, finishing off in a few swallows the rest of his drink.
“It’ll taste like fresh horse piss,” he said and tossed a coin onto the table, only paying for his own. She could pay for hers, surely. He only waited long enough for her to choose to pay or not before leading the way out the door and back into the balmy night. Lukos was a firm believer in women’s independence and that they could most definitely fend for themselves if push came to shove. It was partially that and partially because he didn’t feel like it that he didn’t baby his newfound sister. He did not look back to make sure she was following or slow his pace for her to keep up. If she was truly blood related to him, he was confident she could and would at least find her way back to his ship even if he lost her through the maze of back alleys. If not by simple knowledge of where she was, the smell of the coast should be enough to draw her. Over the salty brine of the air lay the stink of dead fish in piles, waiting to be carted to market. Of men’s sweat and dock whores, of piss in the corners of buildings and a general weight in the air that hung around places of business and poverty. In the day time, this was somewhat overpowered by merchants offloading wares of spices and overlaid with the unique tang animals. At night? It was perfumes of the desperate and depraved.
The Aceton sat where they’d left it, though Arktos had found his way back to it by then and was back to the dice game that he and Lukos had been toying around with when Lukos left. The men looked up when Lukos boarded but their eyes landed unfriendly and leering on his guest. He didn’t swat them or tell them to keep their tongues in their head. He merely turned and held up his arms. “My kingdom,” he said to his sister and then nudged Arktos’s butt with his boot.
“This is my first mate, Arktos. That idiot there is our cook,” he said, pointing to another man who did not react to the insult. “And that old piece of seaweed is Catos.” What exactly Catos’s job on this ship was, Lukos never did say but the old, wiry man he’d pointed to rose in a more dignified manner than the rest and stuck out a gnarled, weathered hand to Eirini.
”My lady,” he gave her a short bow but plopped back down, his good manners now expended.
“Is that what they are calling pirates these days?” She shook her head and Lukos merely shrugged.
“I do take legitimate, lucrative contracts. If I need a hobby on the side, I don’t see the harm.” Besides, there wasn’t anything quite like riding on the prow of his ship as it bore down on a fellow merchant ship. It was hard to put into words what it felt like to look at something, decide you wanted it, and not let anyone stop you from taking it. Most people would do that if they could, few had either the opportunity or the gall; he had both.
“I think I should like to see where you spend most of your time… Lukos hesitated, looking her over sharply. “...your ship. Besides, if you really are such a thriving merchant, then surely you should have some wine onboard that doesn't taste like watered down horse piss, hm?” she went on smoothly and he sighed through his nose, finishing off in a few swallows the rest of his drink.
“It’ll taste like fresh horse piss,” he said and tossed a coin onto the table, only paying for his own. She could pay for hers, surely. He only waited long enough for her to choose to pay or not before leading the way out the door and back into the balmy night. Lukos was a firm believer in women’s independence and that they could most definitely fend for themselves if push came to shove. It was partially that and partially because he didn’t feel like it that he didn’t baby his newfound sister. He did not look back to make sure she was following or slow his pace for her to keep up. If she was truly blood related to him, he was confident she could and would at least find her way back to his ship even if he lost her through the maze of back alleys. If not by simple knowledge of where she was, the smell of the coast should be enough to draw her. Over the salty brine of the air lay the stink of dead fish in piles, waiting to be carted to market. Of men’s sweat and dock whores, of piss in the corners of buildings and a general weight in the air that hung around places of business and poverty. In the day time, this was somewhat overpowered by merchants offloading wares of spices and overlaid with the unique tang animals. At night? It was perfumes of the desperate and depraved.
The Aceton sat where they’d left it, though Arktos had found his way back to it by then and was back to the dice game that he and Lukos had been toying around with when Lukos left. The men looked up when Lukos boarded but their eyes landed unfriendly and leering on his guest. He didn’t swat them or tell them to keep their tongues in their head. He merely turned and held up his arms. “My kingdom,” he said to his sister and then nudged Arktos’s butt with his boot.
“This is my first mate, Arktos. That idiot there is our cook,” he said, pointing to another man who did not react to the insult. “And that old piece of seaweed is Catos.” What exactly Catos’s job on this ship was, Lukos never did say but the old, wiry man he’d pointed to rose in a more dignified manner than the rest and stuck out a gnarled, weathered hand to Eirini.
”My lady,” he gave her a short bow but plopped back down, his good manners now expended.
Eirini didn't see what was wrong with it either, save for the stigma of the branding – it was a notorious term, pirate, one that rewarded a certain infamous reputation that could prove beneficial, yet simultaneously increased your list of enemies. Regardless, it was a dog eat dog world and Eirini knew better than most the need of doing some unsavoury things to survive; she even understood enjoying them too. Yet, as she sat there, watching him down the last dregs of his wine then rise swiftly to throw down a coin that would cover only his drink, Eirini was reminded that for a woman of her standing, any association with such a man would be a hindrance, especially for her husband.
Protecting the Leventi name came second to protecting Fotios and their daughters for Eirini, though she did share in her husband's ambitions for their name and she was aware that Lukos could be damaging. There was some lure that Lukos possessed that she could not sever herself from and as she followed him from the tavern, keeping some distance as they meandered the paths back towards the docks, Eirini was suddenly struck as to why – he bore a striking resemblance to Klietos, especially from behind.
Whilst her brother was distinctly more handsome and possessed his mothers eyes, his structure, build and darkness was all their fathers. It was haunting really, the similarities between them.
The stench of the docks reached her first, filling her senses with an aroma she was once all to familiar with. The salt of the sea was thick upon the humid air, as was the odour of rotting fish heads and guts dumped upon the roadside by the daytime vendors and perhaps worst of all, the scent of unwashed bodies and cheap, acidic perfumes (if one could even call them as such) was heavy as the dockside whore tried to mask their own stench. Although Eirini had grown up poor, even she had considered herself above these people, these wretches had never been her people.
There was a flicker of relief upon her features as the Aceton came into view, though she did not expect to be greeted by the luxury to which Eirini had become accustomed. Stepping aboard, she eyed the men like they were merely part of the ships fixtures, even the one who stood up to greet her was left unacknowledged. "How very... charming." She responded to all of the statements, dryly. It was clear that she wasn't overtly impressed, then again, with her status came a degree of snobbishness.
"Do you stay onboard permanently? Or do you have lodgings elsewhere? A wife perhaps ..." She asked in mild curiosity, idly meandering around the deck, observing and critiquing. Suddenly she turned back towards him, fixed him with her dark gaze and pointed towards a small door, "Your quarters, I presume? Have one of your men fetch us some wine, I wish to see your cabin."
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Eirini didn't see what was wrong with it either, save for the stigma of the branding – it was a notorious term, pirate, one that rewarded a certain infamous reputation that could prove beneficial, yet simultaneously increased your list of enemies. Regardless, it was a dog eat dog world and Eirini knew better than most the need of doing some unsavoury things to survive; she even understood enjoying them too. Yet, as she sat there, watching him down the last dregs of his wine then rise swiftly to throw down a coin that would cover only his drink, Eirini was reminded that for a woman of her standing, any association with such a man would be a hindrance, especially for her husband.
Protecting the Leventi name came second to protecting Fotios and their daughters for Eirini, though she did share in her husband's ambitions for their name and she was aware that Lukos could be damaging. There was some lure that Lukos possessed that she could not sever herself from and as she followed him from the tavern, keeping some distance as they meandered the paths back towards the docks, Eirini was suddenly struck as to why – he bore a striking resemblance to Klietos, especially from behind.
Whilst her brother was distinctly more handsome and possessed his mothers eyes, his structure, build and darkness was all their fathers. It was haunting really, the similarities between them.
The stench of the docks reached her first, filling her senses with an aroma she was once all to familiar with. The salt of the sea was thick upon the humid air, as was the odour of rotting fish heads and guts dumped upon the roadside by the daytime vendors and perhaps worst of all, the scent of unwashed bodies and cheap, acidic perfumes (if one could even call them as such) was heavy as the dockside whore tried to mask their own stench. Although Eirini had grown up poor, even she had considered herself above these people, these wretches had never been her people.
There was a flicker of relief upon her features as the Aceton came into view, though she did not expect to be greeted by the luxury to which Eirini had become accustomed. Stepping aboard, she eyed the men like they were merely part of the ships fixtures, even the one who stood up to greet her was left unacknowledged. "How very... charming." She responded to all of the statements, dryly. It was clear that she wasn't overtly impressed, then again, with her status came a degree of snobbishness.
"Do you stay onboard permanently? Or do you have lodgings elsewhere? A wife perhaps ..." She asked in mild curiosity, idly meandering around the deck, observing and critiquing. Suddenly she turned back towards him, fixed him with her dark gaze and pointed towards a small door, "Your quarters, I presume? Have one of your men fetch us some wine, I wish to see your cabin."
Eirini didn't see what was wrong with it either, save for the stigma of the branding – it was a notorious term, pirate, one that rewarded a certain infamous reputation that could prove beneficial, yet simultaneously increased your list of enemies. Regardless, it was a dog eat dog world and Eirini knew better than most the need of doing some unsavoury things to survive; she even understood enjoying them too. Yet, as she sat there, watching him down the last dregs of his wine then rise swiftly to throw down a coin that would cover only his drink, Eirini was reminded that for a woman of her standing, any association with such a man would be a hindrance, especially for her husband.
Protecting the Leventi name came second to protecting Fotios and their daughters for Eirini, though she did share in her husband's ambitions for their name and she was aware that Lukos could be damaging. There was some lure that Lukos possessed that she could not sever herself from and as she followed him from the tavern, keeping some distance as they meandered the paths back towards the docks, Eirini was suddenly struck as to why – he bore a striking resemblance to Klietos, especially from behind.
Whilst her brother was distinctly more handsome and possessed his mothers eyes, his structure, build and darkness was all their fathers. It was haunting really, the similarities between them.
The stench of the docks reached her first, filling her senses with an aroma she was once all to familiar with. The salt of the sea was thick upon the humid air, as was the odour of rotting fish heads and guts dumped upon the roadside by the daytime vendors and perhaps worst of all, the scent of unwashed bodies and cheap, acidic perfumes (if one could even call them as such) was heavy as the dockside whore tried to mask their own stench. Although Eirini had grown up poor, even she had considered herself above these people, these wretches had never been her people.
There was a flicker of relief upon her features as the Aceton came into view, though she did not expect to be greeted by the luxury to which Eirini had become accustomed. Stepping aboard, she eyed the men like they were merely part of the ships fixtures, even the one who stood up to greet her was left unacknowledged. "How very... charming." She responded to all of the statements, dryly. It was clear that she wasn't overtly impressed, then again, with her status came a degree of snobbishness.
"Do you stay onboard permanently? Or do you have lodgings elsewhere? A wife perhaps ..." She asked in mild curiosity, idly meandering around the deck, observing and critiquing. Suddenly she turned back towards him, fixed him with her dark gaze and pointed towards a small door, "Your quarters, I presume? Have one of your men fetch us some wine, I wish to see your cabin."