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The journey had been neither as peaceful nor elegant as it had been when journeying to Taengea. Despite the calm waters, Persephone suffered from nausea regardless and had been forced to hide her physical discomfort the entire way there. This time, upon her return to her homeland, the waters had been choppy, bordering almost on a storm at one time or another. The sharp and erratic tips and turns of the vessel had had Persephone barely able to keep enough food down to sustain her health on the journey. And by the time solid land was in reach of the watchers, she looked almost gaunt with illness and malnutrition. Surely the human condition could not suffer so terribly at see? It seemed ridiculous that the queen of a kingdom so dependent on the waters surrounding it should be so horrendously seasick when she took to a vessel herself.
Of course, this was the lack of elegance that the previous journey had been able to hide. Persephone had been as able to hide her vomiting this time as she had been able to when she had first received the note from Aimias claiming that her sister was alive. She had embarrassed herself then and she shamed herself still in her difficulties at sea.
Yet it all paled in comparison to how she might shame herself when she arrived on land.
Having no idea of the horrors she had left behind her when she had fled for her life, Persephone was only able to travel back now because it had been a month and half since she had last stepped on Athenian soil. Most, by this point, would have presumed her either dead or self-exiled forever from her homeland and it was only these assumptions that would allow her to enter the Athenian waters without suspicion.
The vessel they had commandeered to return to Athenia was nought more than a simple fishing boat - perhaps another reason why the journey had been so rough, as the small craft was battered around by Poseidon's easily stoked fury. The man who owned it and used it to transport exotic breeds of crustacean from Taengea to Athenia and back again had no idea who she was and seemed to have little to no interest in the politics of either kingdom, living his life as he did, for his craft and his sailing. When she had found out that he would be stopping in Magnestis - a logical place given his profession - Persephone and decided him to be their best hope of silent and secret transport. For it was only a half days ride across the Magnestis border to journey into Aetaea... a land where there might reside friends...
Again, Persephone had no idea the kind of political and social mess she had left behind when she had been forced to flee. With Elias the obvious conspirator behind the attack on the palace, Persephone had no other choice but to head for Taengea. Had she stayed - even in a province of her own ownership, a man of royal blood like Elias held the power, status and wealth to kill her eventually if he was determined enough. Look what he had done when his family had been all by paralysed in their noble status... She had had no choice.
But now, she had equally no choice. Her sister was back in Athenia. Her only living relative. Blood of her blood. She needed to return to get her. That was the agreement that she and her intended, Iason of Dimitrou, had come to whilst she had been hiding in Taengea. As soon as the message had come through that her sister was alive, nothing was going to stop her from returning to Athenia. It had been Iason's suggestion that they bring her back with them and continue with their plan to live quietly as Baron and Baroness of Chaoedia, helping to guide Emilia in her life, away from the dangerous political strokes of the Athenian powerhouses. Regardless of it meaning the end of the House of Xanthos, the need to see her sister safe overpowered everything else.
So, that was the plan - to seek out her most trusted friends in the Athenian nobility - the Argyris House - and hope that their knowledge of the Senate and Court as it now stood would allow her the means to rescue her sister and take her back to Taengea.
They just had to get there first. And hopefully before she passed out from dehydration.
She was still feeling decidedly green when the ship pulled into port but several hours of riding later and Persephone had made peace with her belly and led the small band of five - herself, Iason, their self-appointed bodyguard Demetrius and the duo of Olena and Chrysanthe who seemed to have naturally fallen into the roles of ladiesmaids - down the half cobbled roads that would lead them across the border of Magnestis and into the lands that were owned by Iris and her family.
An hour before they arrived at the Argyris household, the heavens opened and the clouds released a torrent of rain down upon the cloaked riders but Persephone was determined not to see their pace slow. Now that she was here, in Athenia itself, where the air smelt as she remembered and the wind and rain felt more like memories of the ocean’s waters than any real obstacle, Persephone felt a sense of urgency unlike any other. A little faster... a little quicker... and she would see Emilia all that sooner. She just needed to keep the pace.
As such, the entire party were drenched through by the time Persephone had led them - from memory - to the doors of the Argyris manor house situated in the quiet woodlands of north eastern Aetaea.
They were not expected, so there was potential for no-one to be home but the Queen was not about to allow a locked door and grouchy servants to keep her out in the rain when she knew her friend would have no issues with her attending unto her home... Provided there was no-one in residence who held a hateful opinion for the exiled Queen.
Taking luck into her own hands and dismounting from her house - a sturdy animal they had purchased at the docks - Persephone pulled her hood high over her face, drew the sodden folds together, and stepped up to approach the front door. Her arm reached out and her fisted knuckles knocked hard against the wood, the summons echoing down the hall beyond...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The journey had been neither as peaceful nor elegant as it had been when journeying to Taengea. Despite the calm waters, Persephone suffered from nausea regardless and had been forced to hide her physical discomfort the entire way there. This time, upon her return to her homeland, the waters had been choppy, bordering almost on a storm at one time or another. The sharp and erratic tips and turns of the vessel had had Persephone barely able to keep enough food down to sustain her health on the journey. And by the time solid land was in reach of the watchers, she looked almost gaunt with illness and malnutrition. Surely the human condition could not suffer so terribly at see? It seemed ridiculous that the queen of a kingdom so dependent on the waters surrounding it should be so horrendously seasick when she took to a vessel herself.
Of course, this was the lack of elegance that the previous journey had been able to hide. Persephone had been as able to hide her vomiting this time as she had been able to when she had first received the note from Aimias claiming that her sister was alive. She had embarrassed herself then and she shamed herself still in her difficulties at sea.
Yet it all paled in comparison to how she might shame herself when she arrived on land.
Having no idea of the horrors she had left behind her when she had fled for her life, Persephone was only able to travel back now because it had been a month and half since she had last stepped on Athenian soil. Most, by this point, would have presumed her either dead or self-exiled forever from her homeland and it was only these assumptions that would allow her to enter the Athenian waters without suspicion.
The vessel they had commandeered to return to Athenia was nought more than a simple fishing boat - perhaps another reason why the journey had been so rough, as the small craft was battered around by Poseidon's easily stoked fury. The man who owned it and used it to transport exotic breeds of crustacean from Taengea to Athenia and back again had no idea who she was and seemed to have little to no interest in the politics of either kingdom, living his life as he did, for his craft and his sailing. When she had found out that he would be stopping in Magnestis - a logical place given his profession - Persephone and decided him to be their best hope of silent and secret transport. For it was only a half days ride across the Magnestis border to journey into Aetaea... a land where there might reside friends...
Again, Persephone had no idea the kind of political and social mess she had left behind when she had been forced to flee. With Elias the obvious conspirator behind the attack on the palace, Persephone had no other choice but to head for Taengea. Had she stayed - even in a province of her own ownership, a man of royal blood like Elias held the power, status and wealth to kill her eventually if he was determined enough. Look what he had done when his family had been all by paralysed in their noble status... She had had no choice.
But now, she had equally no choice. Her sister was back in Athenia. Her only living relative. Blood of her blood. She needed to return to get her. That was the agreement that she and her intended, Iason of Dimitrou, had come to whilst she had been hiding in Taengea. As soon as the message had come through that her sister was alive, nothing was going to stop her from returning to Athenia. It had been Iason's suggestion that they bring her back with them and continue with their plan to live quietly as Baron and Baroness of Chaoedia, helping to guide Emilia in her life, away from the dangerous political strokes of the Athenian powerhouses. Regardless of it meaning the end of the House of Xanthos, the need to see her sister safe overpowered everything else.
So, that was the plan - to seek out her most trusted friends in the Athenian nobility - the Argyris House - and hope that their knowledge of the Senate and Court as it now stood would allow her the means to rescue her sister and take her back to Taengea.
They just had to get there first. And hopefully before she passed out from dehydration.
She was still feeling decidedly green when the ship pulled into port but several hours of riding later and Persephone had made peace with her belly and led the small band of five - herself, Iason, their self-appointed bodyguard Demetrius and the duo of Olena and Chrysanthe who seemed to have naturally fallen into the roles of ladiesmaids - down the half cobbled roads that would lead them across the border of Magnestis and into the lands that were owned by Iris and her family.
An hour before they arrived at the Argyris household, the heavens opened and the clouds released a torrent of rain down upon the cloaked riders but Persephone was determined not to see their pace slow. Now that she was here, in Athenia itself, where the air smelt as she remembered and the wind and rain felt more like memories of the ocean’s waters than any real obstacle, Persephone felt a sense of urgency unlike any other. A little faster... a little quicker... and she would see Emilia all that sooner. She just needed to keep the pace.
As such, the entire party were drenched through by the time Persephone had led them - from memory - to the doors of the Argyris manor house situated in the quiet woodlands of north eastern Aetaea.
They were not expected, so there was potential for no-one to be home but the Queen was not about to allow a locked door and grouchy servants to keep her out in the rain when she knew her friend would have no issues with her attending unto her home... Provided there was no-one in residence who held a hateful opinion for the exiled Queen.
Taking luck into her own hands and dismounting from her house - a sturdy animal they had purchased at the docks - Persephone pulled her hood high over her face, drew the sodden folds together, and stepped up to approach the front door. Her arm reached out and her fisted knuckles knocked hard against the wood, the summons echoing down the hall beyond...
The journey had been neither as peaceful nor elegant as it had been when journeying to Taengea. Despite the calm waters, Persephone suffered from nausea regardless and had been forced to hide her physical discomfort the entire way there. This time, upon her return to her homeland, the waters had been choppy, bordering almost on a storm at one time or another. The sharp and erratic tips and turns of the vessel had had Persephone barely able to keep enough food down to sustain her health on the journey. And by the time solid land was in reach of the watchers, she looked almost gaunt with illness and malnutrition. Surely the human condition could not suffer so terribly at see? It seemed ridiculous that the queen of a kingdom so dependent on the waters surrounding it should be so horrendously seasick when she took to a vessel herself.
Of course, this was the lack of elegance that the previous journey had been able to hide. Persephone had been as able to hide her vomiting this time as she had been able to when she had first received the note from Aimias claiming that her sister was alive. She had embarrassed herself then and she shamed herself still in her difficulties at sea.
Yet it all paled in comparison to how she might shame herself when she arrived on land.
Having no idea of the horrors she had left behind her when she had fled for her life, Persephone was only able to travel back now because it had been a month and half since she had last stepped on Athenian soil. Most, by this point, would have presumed her either dead or self-exiled forever from her homeland and it was only these assumptions that would allow her to enter the Athenian waters without suspicion.
The vessel they had commandeered to return to Athenia was nought more than a simple fishing boat - perhaps another reason why the journey had been so rough, as the small craft was battered around by Poseidon's easily stoked fury. The man who owned it and used it to transport exotic breeds of crustacean from Taengea to Athenia and back again had no idea who she was and seemed to have little to no interest in the politics of either kingdom, living his life as he did, for his craft and his sailing. When she had found out that he would be stopping in Magnestis - a logical place given his profession - Persephone and decided him to be their best hope of silent and secret transport. For it was only a half days ride across the Magnestis border to journey into Aetaea... a land where there might reside friends...
Again, Persephone had no idea the kind of political and social mess she had left behind when she had been forced to flee. With Elias the obvious conspirator behind the attack on the palace, Persephone had no other choice but to head for Taengea. Had she stayed - even in a province of her own ownership, a man of royal blood like Elias held the power, status and wealth to kill her eventually if he was determined enough. Look what he had done when his family had been all by paralysed in their noble status... She had had no choice.
But now, she had equally no choice. Her sister was back in Athenia. Her only living relative. Blood of her blood. She needed to return to get her. That was the agreement that she and her intended, Iason of Dimitrou, had come to whilst she had been hiding in Taengea. As soon as the message had come through that her sister was alive, nothing was going to stop her from returning to Athenia. It had been Iason's suggestion that they bring her back with them and continue with their plan to live quietly as Baron and Baroness of Chaoedia, helping to guide Emilia in her life, away from the dangerous political strokes of the Athenian powerhouses. Regardless of it meaning the end of the House of Xanthos, the need to see her sister safe overpowered everything else.
So, that was the plan - to seek out her most trusted friends in the Athenian nobility - the Argyris House - and hope that their knowledge of the Senate and Court as it now stood would allow her the means to rescue her sister and take her back to Taengea.
They just had to get there first. And hopefully before she passed out from dehydration.
She was still feeling decidedly green when the ship pulled into port but several hours of riding later and Persephone had made peace with her belly and led the small band of five - herself, Iason, their self-appointed bodyguard Demetrius and the duo of Olena and Chrysanthe who seemed to have naturally fallen into the roles of ladiesmaids - down the half cobbled roads that would lead them across the border of Magnestis and into the lands that were owned by Iris and her family.
An hour before they arrived at the Argyris household, the heavens opened and the clouds released a torrent of rain down upon the cloaked riders but Persephone was determined not to see their pace slow. Now that she was here, in Athenia itself, where the air smelt as she remembered and the wind and rain felt more like memories of the ocean’s waters than any real obstacle, Persephone felt a sense of urgency unlike any other. A little faster... a little quicker... and she would see Emilia all that sooner. She just needed to keep the pace.
As such, the entire party were drenched through by the time Persephone had led them - from memory - to the doors of the Argyris manor house situated in the quiet woodlands of north eastern Aetaea.
They were not expected, so there was potential for no-one to be home but the Queen was not about to allow a locked door and grouchy servants to keep her out in the rain when she knew her friend would have no issues with her attending unto her home... Provided there was no-one in residence who held a hateful opinion for the exiled Queen.
Taking luck into her own hands and dismounting from her house - a sturdy animal they had purchased at the docks - Persephone pulled her hood high over her face, drew the sodden folds together, and stepped up to approach the front door. Her arm reached out and her fisted knuckles knocked hard against the wood, the summons echoing down the hall beyond...
There had been improvement in the health in her step-daughter, and that was all that Iris had been able to ask for in the last few weeks. The tireless tending to the young child had left her with night after night of little rest. But it had been worth it in the end to see the strength return to Phillipa's little body. While Iris did not appreciate the turn of events that lead to her once again secluding herself to her estate, the baroness could at least appreciate that her charge would live. Her breathing was still shakey and she found herself winded easily, but Phillipa had gone back to unleashing her curious terror on the home once more.
Iris slept beside her in the three nights since the girl's recovery, not having the heart to leave her alone in the room that Iris had made up for Phillipa's permanent residence. The first night, Iris lay there beside the sleeping girl, debating returning to Athenia. Each time she did, her fight with Aimias clawed through her mind and she was inclined to drop the subject immediately. He was correct. She was safer in her own province, but it made her more anxious of being parted from him when she was aware of the very real dangers that he faced, especially now that he was alone in the city.
What Iris had not expected, however, was for Aimias to show up earlier in the day. At first she had found herself tense and unsure of how to approach him, but she had relaxed after he had been there a few hours. With the servants cleaning up from dinner and doing their late night chores, Iris and Aimias had worked at coaxing the elated Phillipa to bed. In fact, Aimias had gone back to their bedroom with the girl, both of them having determined that she would sleep with them that night. It suited Iris fine. After not seeing the girl for so long and then working tirelessly to make sure that she lived through her illness... she wasn't keen on letting the child rest anywhere else for the time being.
But with Aimias tending to Phillipa in their chambers, Iris had taken a few minutes to sort through some of the work that she would need to complete come morning. Orders for supplies, shipments to be sent out, imports to be brought in. Simple things but things that would take ample time and concentration after hardly looking to her duties in the last weeks. Gaios was able to pick up the slack when needed, but like her, he also deserved a break. She would not make him continue his current task as the pseudo-baron.
The rain had started slow and steady at first and Iris had put it out of her mind. But the low din of rain pounding the roof only a little while later had the baroness glancing out the window from time to time as she finished her sorting, finding she was ready to start on the most vital tasks come the early morning. With her gown hissing lightly along the stone, Iris made her way toward her chambers, pausing in the doorway to see that both Aimias and Phillipa had found sleep. Moving across the room, Iris bent to blow out a few of the oil lamps lighting the warm space.
It was the barking of the hounds that caught her attention as she moved to blow out the last light. Flinching and more than annoyed that something had spooked them so late into the night, Iris picked up the oil lamp instead, taking it with her as she glided back out into the hall and down to the main space.
Acantha was already at one of the front windows, her blonde brows furrowed. "There are horses and riders, my lady," she commented quietly.
"Callers so late?" Iris breathed, rubbing at her face with her free hand. "How many are there?" she questioned softly, settling the lamp down and moving to glance out the window as well. This made her more anxious than she dared let on. It would have been undesirable to have someone follow Aimias. Especially when there was such danger afoot.
"I only see four," Acantha whispered, "but five horses."
The sharp knocking on the wooden door to the other side of the entry made both women jump and Iris swallowed hard. "Wake the rest of the servants. Prepare rooms," she ordered softly, starting to make her way to the doorway. "I want the stable hands ready to dry and feed the horses. Move a few of the mares if they require more room," there was a pause. The hounds continued to bark and Iris grit her teeth, "And find someone to quiet the hounds."
Acantha was quick on her feet, giving a single deep bow and hurrying back into the deeper part of the manor to get to work. Iris could faintly hear the woman forcing her way out the back door of the home.
Putting on a brave face and praying to the gods that Rafail of Marikas had stayed in Athenia instead of attempting to torment her once again, Iris reached for the handle of the door and pulled it quickly open. "Greetings to you," Iris said softly, the picture of a gracious host. Already, the woman was taking in the slight stature of the woman before her. Already her mind was running with possibilities of who the woman could be. Her gaze even flickered to the people still mounted upon horses down the stairs and the grasses.
The howling of the hounds ceased rather sharply and Iris felt the corner of her mouth twitched. Noting the woman's face was mostly hidden by her hood and being as tired and slightly irritable as she was. She ducked down a little to try and get a look at the woman's face.
Her heart dropped into her stomach at the familiar face and Iris stepped back sharply. "In. In," Iris said sharply, reaching forward and putting a hand against the back of Persephone's shoulder to guide her into the home. She glanced only once to the companions behind Persephone. Acantha had come back up behind them, sodden and soaked from the rain.
"My la-" Acantha immediately silenced when Iris through a hand back and snapped her fingers in an order to be quiet.
"Acantha. I need you to wake my sister," Iris said very calmly, her voice not wavering the slightest bit. "And my husband. Our queen has returned."
The woman sucked in a breath, gave a deep both to both and then hurried off once more. Iris eyed Persephone and then sunk into a single low bow before straigtening up. "You came back," Iris said quietly, keeping an ear out behind her. Already, a few of the sleepy servants were relighting the oil lamps in the dining area and hauling out pitchers of water and wine. "Your entourage," she tilted her head to the door as a quiet invitation for them to follow.
Acantha, the poor thing, was so harried and breathless as she ghosted into Dianthe's quarters that she hiccuped a bit with the effort. "Lady Dianthe," Acantha touched her shoulder, "You are needed at the entry." And then she was gone, moving swiftly through the home and back into Iris' and Aimias' chambers. Usually she would knock, but she avoided it as she slipped into the room, settling on her knees on the floor by Aimias' side of the bed. In an attempt not to wake Phillipa, Acantha whispered into Aimias' ear, only touching his shoulder once, "The queen, my lord."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There had been improvement in the health in her step-daughter, and that was all that Iris had been able to ask for in the last few weeks. The tireless tending to the young child had left her with night after night of little rest. But it had been worth it in the end to see the strength return to Phillipa's little body. While Iris did not appreciate the turn of events that lead to her once again secluding herself to her estate, the baroness could at least appreciate that her charge would live. Her breathing was still shakey and she found herself winded easily, but Phillipa had gone back to unleashing her curious terror on the home once more.
Iris slept beside her in the three nights since the girl's recovery, not having the heart to leave her alone in the room that Iris had made up for Phillipa's permanent residence. The first night, Iris lay there beside the sleeping girl, debating returning to Athenia. Each time she did, her fight with Aimias clawed through her mind and she was inclined to drop the subject immediately. He was correct. She was safer in her own province, but it made her more anxious of being parted from him when she was aware of the very real dangers that he faced, especially now that he was alone in the city.
What Iris had not expected, however, was for Aimias to show up earlier in the day. At first she had found herself tense and unsure of how to approach him, but she had relaxed after he had been there a few hours. With the servants cleaning up from dinner and doing their late night chores, Iris and Aimias had worked at coaxing the elated Phillipa to bed. In fact, Aimias had gone back to their bedroom with the girl, both of them having determined that she would sleep with them that night. It suited Iris fine. After not seeing the girl for so long and then working tirelessly to make sure that she lived through her illness... she wasn't keen on letting the child rest anywhere else for the time being.
But with Aimias tending to Phillipa in their chambers, Iris had taken a few minutes to sort through some of the work that she would need to complete come morning. Orders for supplies, shipments to be sent out, imports to be brought in. Simple things but things that would take ample time and concentration after hardly looking to her duties in the last weeks. Gaios was able to pick up the slack when needed, but like her, he also deserved a break. She would not make him continue his current task as the pseudo-baron.
The rain had started slow and steady at first and Iris had put it out of her mind. But the low din of rain pounding the roof only a little while later had the baroness glancing out the window from time to time as she finished her sorting, finding she was ready to start on the most vital tasks come the early morning. With her gown hissing lightly along the stone, Iris made her way toward her chambers, pausing in the doorway to see that both Aimias and Phillipa had found sleep. Moving across the room, Iris bent to blow out a few of the oil lamps lighting the warm space.
It was the barking of the hounds that caught her attention as she moved to blow out the last light. Flinching and more than annoyed that something had spooked them so late into the night, Iris picked up the oil lamp instead, taking it with her as she glided back out into the hall and down to the main space.
Acantha was already at one of the front windows, her blonde brows furrowed. "There are horses and riders, my lady," she commented quietly.
"Callers so late?" Iris breathed, rubbing at her face with her free hand. "How many are there?" she questioned softly, settling the lamp down and moving to glance out the window as well. This made her more anxious than she dared let on. It would have been undesirable to have someone follow Aimias. Especially when there was such danger afoot.
"I only see four," Acantha whispered, "but five horses."
The sharp knocking on the wooden door to the other side of the entry made both women jump and Iris swallowed hard. "Wake the rest of the servants. Prepare rooms," she ordered softly, starting to make her way to the doorway. "I want the stable hands ready to dry and feed the horses. Move a few of the mares if they require more room," there was a pause. The hounds continued to bark and Iris grit her teeth, "And find someone to quiet the hounds."
Acantha was quick on her feet, giving a single deep bow and hurrying back into the deeper part of the manor to get to work. Iris could faintly hear the woman forcing her way out the back door of the home.
Putting on a brave face and praying to the gods that Rafail of Marikas had stayed in Athenia instead of attempting to torment her once again, Iris reached for the handle of the door and pulled it quickly open. "Greetings to you," Iris said softly, the picture of a gracious host. Already, the woman was taking in the slight stature of the woman before her. Already her mind was running with possibilities of who the woman could be. Her gaze even flickered to the people still mounted upon horses down the stairs and the grasses.
The howling of the hounds ceased rather sharply and Iris felt the corner of her mouth twitched. Noting the woman's face was mostly hidden by her hood and being as tired and slightly irritable as she was. She ducked down a little to try and get a look at the woman's face.
Her heart dropped into her stomach at the familiar face and Iris stepped back sharply. "In. In," Iris said sharply, reaching forward and putting a hand against the back of Persephone's shoulder to guide her into the home. She glanced only once to the companions behind Persephone. Acantha had come back up behind them, sodden and soaked from the rain.
"My la-" Acantha immediately silenced when Iris through a hand back and snapped her fingers in an order to be quiet.
"Acantha. I need you to wake my sister," Iris said very calmly, her voice not wavering the slightest bit. "And my husband. Our queen has returned."
The woman sucked in a breath, gave a deep both to both and then hurried off once more. Iris eyed Persephone and then sunk into a single low bow before straigtening up. "You came back," Iris said quietly, keeping an ear out behind her. Already, a few of the sleepy servants were relighting the oil lamps in the dining area and hauling out pitchers of water and wine. "Your entourage," she tilted her head to the door as a quiet invitation for them to follow.
Acantha, the poor thing, was so harried and breathless as she ghosted into Dianthe's quarters that she hiccuped a bit with the effort. "Lady Dianthe," Acantha touched her shoulder, "You are needed at the entry." And then she was gone, moving swiftly through the home and back into Iris' and Aimias' chambers. Usually she would knock, but she avoided it as she slipped into the room, settling on her knees on the floor by Aimias' side of the bed. In an attempt not to wake Phillipa, Acantha whispered into Aimias' ear, only touching his shoulder once, "The queen, my lord."
There had been improvement in the health in her step-daughter, and that was all that Iris had been able to ask for in the last few weeks. The tireless tending to the young child had left her with night after night of little rest. But it had been worth it in the end to see the strength return to Phillipa's little body. While Iris did not appreciate the turn of events that lead to her once again secluding herself to her estate, the baroness could at least appreciate that her charge would live. Her breathing was still shakey and she found herself winded easily, but Phillipa had gone back to unleashing her curious terror on the home once more.
Iris slept beside her in the three nights since the girl's recovery, not having the heart to leave her alone in the room that Iris had made up for Phillipa's permanent residence. The first night, Iris lay there beside the sleeping girl, debating returning to Athenia. Each time she did, her fight with Aimias clawed through her mind and she was inclined to drop the subject immediately. He was correct. She was safer in her own province, but it made her more anxious of being parted from him when she was aware of the very real dangers that he faced, especially now that he was alone in the city.
What Iris had not expected, however, was for Aimias to show up earlier in the day. At first she had found herself tense and unsure of how to approach him, but she had relaxed after he had been there a few hours. With the servants cleaning up from dinner and doing their late night chores, Iris and Aimias had worked at coaxing the elated Phillipa to bed. In fact, Aimias had gone back to their bedroom with the girl, both of them having determined that she would sleep with them that night. It suited Iris fine. After not seeing the girl for so long and then working tirelessly to make sure that she lived through her illness... she wasn't keen on letting the child rest anywhere else for the time being.
But with Aimias tending to Phillipa in their chambers, Iris had taken a few minutes to sort through some of the work that she would need to complete come morning. Orders for supplies, shipments to be sent out, imports to be brought in. Simple things but things that would take ample time and concentration after hardly looking to her duties in the last weeks. Gaios was able to pick up the slack when needed, but like her, he also deserved a break. She would not make him continue his current task as the pseudo-baron.
The rain had started slow and steady at first and Iris had put it out of her mind. But the low din of rain pounding the roof only a little while later had the baroness glancing out the window from time to time as she finished her sorting, finding she was ready to start on the most vital tasks come the early morning. With her gown hissing lightly along the stone, Iris made her way toward her chambers, pausing in the doorway to see that both Aimias and Phillipa had found sleep. Moving across the room, Iris bent to blow out a few of the oil lamps lighting the warm space.
It was the barking of the hounds that caught her attention as she moved to blow out the last light. Flinching and more than annoyed that something had spooked them so late into the night, Iris picked up the oil lamp instead, taking it with her as she glided back out into the hall and down to the main space.
Acantha was already at one of the front windows, her blonde brows furrowed. "There are horses and riders, my lady," she commented quietly.
"Callers so late?" Iris breathed, rubbing at her face with her free hand. "How many are there?" she questioned softly, settling the lamp down and moving to glance out the window as well. This made her more anxious than she dared let on. It would have been undesirable to have someone follow Aimias. Especially when there was such danger afoot.
"I only see four," Acantha whispered, "but five horses."
The sharp knocking on the wooden door to the other side of the entry made both women jump and Iris swallowed hard. "Wake the rest of the servants. Prepare rooms," she ordered softly, starting to make her way to the doorway. "I want the stable hands ready to dry and feed the horses. Move a few of the mares if they require more room," there was a pause. The hounds continued to bark and Iris grit her teeth, "And find someone to quiet the hounds."
Acantha was quick on her feet, giving a single deep bow and hurrying back into the deeper part of the manor to get to work. Iris could faintly hear the woman forcing her way out the back door of the home.
Putting on a brave face and praying to the gods that Rafail of Marikas had stayed in Athenia instead of attempting to torment her once again, Iris reached for the handle of the door and pulled it quickly open. "Greetings to you," Iris said softly, the picture of a gracious host. Already, the woman was taking in the slight stature of the woman before her. Already her mind was running with possibilities of who the woman could be. Her gaze even flickered to the people still mounted upon horses down the stairs and the grasses.
The howling of the hounds ceased rather sharply and Iris felt the corner of her mouth twitched. Noting the woman's face was mostly hidden by her hood and being as tired and slightly irritable as she was. She ducked down a little to try and get a look at the woman's face.
Her heart dropped into her stomach at the familiar face and Iris stepped back sharply. "In. In," Iris said sharply, reaching forward and putting a hand against the back of Persephone's shoulder to guide her into the home. She glanced only once to the companions behind Persephone. Acantha had come back up behind them, sodden and soaked from the rain.
"My la-" Acantha immediately silenced when Iris through a hand back and snapped her fingers in an order to be quiet.
"Acantha. I need you to wake my sister," Iris said very calmly, her voice not wavering the slightest bit. "And my husband. Our queen has returned."
The woman sucked in a breath, gave a deep both to both and then hurried off once more. Iris eyed Persephone and then sunk into a single low bow before straigtening up. "You came back," Iris said quietly, keeping an ear out behind her. Already, a few of the sleepy servants were relighting the oil lamps in the dining area and hauling out pitchers of water and wine. "Your entourage," she tilted her head to the door as a quiet invitation for them to follow.
Acantha, the poor thing, was so harried and breathless as she ghosted into Dianthe's quarters that she hiccuped a bit with the effort. "Lady Dianthe," Acantha touched her shoulder, "You are needed at the entry." And then she was gone, moving swiftly through the home and back into Iris' and Aimias' chambers. Usually she would knock, but she avoided it as she slipped into the room, settling on her knees on the floor by Aimias' side of the bed. In an attempt not to wake Phillipa, Acantha whispered into Aimias' ear, only touching his shoulder once, "The queen, my lord."
There came a point in time where the discontent in a home had to end.
He knew he wasn’t making much of an effort with his wife. But as stressed as he had been, trying to keep the kingdom together without putting Emilia at risk, something had to take the brunt of it. And it had unfortunately been his marriage. Aimias could appreciate the stress she was under, too. She had just lost her father, was trying to cope with the loss alone. And it wasn’t as if he had offered much support since Persephone’s disappearance.
He had failed her, and it had taken a week alone for him to know that he needed to make it right.
A peaceful home, on the same side-- that’s what he needed.
He arranged a trusted guard for Emilia, someone to keep his distance but to watch to make sure that Elias didn’t go too far. And he made sure that his duties to the crown were completed since it was not as if senate meetings were occurring anyway. Aimias was worried about his daughter, who was ill and without him. And while she was in good hands with Iris, he needed to be there too. He was torn and needed to make one of them a priority. Trusting that Emilia would be well watched while he ventured to his new home for a day or two, Aimias packed a small satchel. He didn’t pack much, knowing that he would not be able to stay long.
But he wanted to be home.
It took him most of the day, arriving just before sunset. There was still a thickness in the air as he tried to come to terms with his role as head of the house. The tail end of trip was met with rain, but he was able to warm up quickly, daughter curled into his side by the fire. Having spent most of the evening with his daughter, he had every intention of staying up to talk with his wife, to clear the air and hopefully find a common ground to fall on.
But exhaustion won over, and he fell asleep next to his daughter in their bed, instead.
The next thing he knew, he was being awakened from a deep sleep. Groggy, a bit unsure of what was going on. It took him a moment to process the words he was hearing.
The Queen.
He was quick to get out of bed, pulling on a robe to cover the thin chiton he had wrapped around his waist. Checking briefly to make sure that he hadn’t disturbed his daughter, he was making his way through the hall. That statement could have meant one of two things. Either Emilia had followed him out of the city, or they had received news of Queen Persephone. Either way, he had to get out there.
Aimias must have looked a wreck, with his recent weight loss and lack of sleep, he felt older than he really was. For the first time in years, he wore his beard untrimmed and wild. “Iris, what news?” He was exhausted. But even as tired as he was, he would have recognized her anywhere.
There was no formality left in him. “Persephone.” He said simply, staring at the drenched face of his friend and queen. Had he not been so worried, he may have bowed to her. But instead, he closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a warm hug. He didn’t even mind that she was soaked to the skin. She was alive, back in Athenia, and at that moment, safe.
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There came a point in time where the discontent in a home had to end.
He knew he wasn’t making much of an effort with his wife. But as stressed as he had been, trying to keep the kingdom together without putting Emilia at risk, something had to take the brunt of it. And it had unfortunately been his marriage. Aimias could appreciate the stress she was under, too. She had just lost her father, was trying to cope with the loss alone. And it wasn’t as if he had offered much support since Persephone’s disappearance.
He had failed her, and it had taken a week alone for him to know that he needed to make it right.
A peaceful home, on the same side-- that’s what he needed.
He arranged a trusted guard for Emilia, someone to keep his distance but to watch to make sure that Elias didn’t go too far. And he made sure that his duties to the crown were completed since it was not as if senate meetings were occurring anyway. Aimias was worried about his daughter, who was ill and without him. And while she was in good hands with Iris, he needed to be there too. He was torn and needed to make one of them a priority. Trusting that Emilia would be well watched while he ventured to his new home for a day or two, Aimias packed a small satchel. He didn’t pack much, knowing that he would not be able to stay long.
But he wanted to be home.
It took him most of the day, arriving just before sunset. There was still a thickness in the air as he tried to come to terms with his role as head of the house. The tail end of trip was met with rain, but he was able to warm up quickly, daughter curled into his side by the fire. Having spent most of the evening with his daughter, he had every intention of staying up to talk with his wife, to clear the air and hopefully find a common ground to fall on.
But exhaustion won over, and he fell asleep next to his daughter in their bed, instead.
The next thing he knew, he was being awakened from a deep sleep. Groggy, a bit unsure of what was going on. It took him a moment to process the words he was hearing.
The Queen.
He was quick to get out of bed, pulling on a robe to cover the thin chiton he had wrapped around his waist. Checking briefly to make sure that he hadn’t disturbed his daughter, he was making his way through the hall. That statement could have meant one of two things. Either Emilia had followed him out of the city, or they had received news of Queen Persephone. Either way, he had to get out there.
Aimias must have looked a wreck, with his recent weight loss and lack of sleep, he felt older than he really was. For the first time in years, he wore his beard untrimmed and wild. “Iris, what news?” He was exhausted. But even as tired as he was, he would have recognized her anywhere.
There was no formality left in him. “Persephone.” He said simply, staring at the drenched face of his friend and queen. Had he not been so worried, he may have bowed to her. But instead, he closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a warm hug. He didn’t even mind that she was soaked to the skin. She was alive, back in Athenia, and at that moment, safe.
There came a point in time where the discontent in a home had to end.
He knew he wasn’t making much of an effort with his wife. But as stressed as he had been, trying to keep the kingdom together without putting Emilia at risk, something had to take the brunt of it. And it had unfortunately been his marriage. Aimias could appreciate the stress she was under, too. She had just lost her father, was trying to cope with the loss alone. And it wasn’t as if he had offered much support since Persephone’s disappearance.
He had failed her, and it had taken a week alone for him to know that he needed to make it right.
A peaceful home, on the same side-- that’s what he needed.
He arranged a trusted guard for Emilia, someone to keep his distance but to watch to make sure that Elias didn’t go too far. And he made sure that his duties to the crown were completed since it was not as if senate meetings were occurring anyway. Aimias was worried about his daughter, who was ill and without him. And while she was in good hands with Iris, he needed to be there too. He was torn and needed to make one of them a priority. Trusting that Emilia would be well watched while he ventured to his new home for a day or two, Aimias packed a small satchel. He didn’t pack much, knowing that he would not be able to stay long.
But he wanted to be home.
It took him most of the day, arriving just before sunset. There was still a thickness in the air as he tried to come to terms with his role as head of the house. The tail end of trip was met with rain, but he was able to warm up quickly, daughter curled into his side by the fire. Having spent most of the evening with his daughter, he had every intention of staying up to talk with his wife, to clear the air and hopefully find a common ground to fall on.
But exhaustion won over, and he fell asleep next to his daughter in their bed, instead.
The next thing he knew, he was being awakened from a deep sleep. Groggy, a bit unsure of what was going on. It took him a moment to process the words he was hearing.
The Queen.
He was quick to get out of bed, pulling on a robe to cover the thin chiton he had wrapped around his waist. Checking briefly to make sure that he hadn’t disturbed his daughter, he was making his way through the hall. That statement could have meant one of two things. Either Emilia had followed him out of the city, or they had received news of Queen Persephone. Either way, he had to get out there.
Aimias must have looked a wreck, with his recent weight loss and lack of sleep, he felt older than he really was. For the first time in years, he wore his beard untrimmed and wild. “Iris, what news?” He was exhausted. But even as tired as he was, he would have recognized her anywhere.
There was no formality left in him. “Persephone.” He said simply, staring at the drenched face of his friend and queen. Had he not been so worried, he may have bowed to her. But instead, he closed the distance between them and wrapped her in a warm hug. He didn’t even mind that she was soaked to the skin. She was alive, back in Athenia, and at that moment, safe.
Knowing that her now sodden hood kept most of her features covered, Persephone expected no less when the Lady Iris opened the door and took to stooping so that she might witness the identity of her late-night caller. Persephone did not look up, nor aid in the young woman seeing her face, just in case one of her servants was to also notice and recognise her features.
As she met the Lady Iris' gaze beneath the rim of her hood, Persephone neither smiled nor spoke, only offering a trusting gaze that suggested she knew her presence to be something she should apologise for but that she had to trust in the woman's hospitality. If not hers, as her friend, then Aimias's as the closest thing she had to a brother.
After all... Persephone openly admitted that she had no idea what had been occurring in Athenia since she was forced to exile herself away in Taengea. She had no expectations of a warm welcome. Only the potential for loyalty in those whom she had befriended for so many years. Enough so at least that they would help her to find and take Emilia and then leave again, forfeiting the crown in favour of a quiet life in Taengea. She had ever hope that removing herself and her sister from the political equation in the capitol, would allow tensions to ease and fair rule to resume. Even if she wasn't the one dictating it as her father had always wished until his deathbed confession...
The Lady Iris' reaction to her appearance was more or less what she had expected and more than she could have hoped for. The woman was instantly aware of the situation, her intellect not faltering as she recognised the danger of Persephone's presence - both to Perse herself but also to Iris and her family. The baroness reached out a welcoming hand that offered a moment of pressure on the back of Persephone's shoulder and guided her into the front hallway of her home.
Looking over her shoulder towards the others that had hovered, still saddled, in case the welcome had been closer to the slamming of a door in her face, Persephone looked to Iason with an expectation that he would follow her.
"Demetrius, if you would attend the horses?" She heard her voice call softly through the rain and then smiled at Olena to show her permission for the redhead to go with him. A slight tilt of her head towards the indoors was all the instruction she gave to Chrysanthe, to follow in her wake and play her role as the newly appointed lady's maid. She doubted that Chrysanthe had heard the Lady Iris with her instructions and wondered briefly if the girl had even worked out that she was royalty, more than simple nobility. Well... she would find out soon enough...
Stepping further into the estate, she was tempted to murmur low to Iris that describing her as such - 'the Queen' - was probably risky but she trusted in the woman's intelligence. She would only say such things to those she trusted explicitly...
She had barely walked two steps further into the house when there was the loud of tread of a full grown man in a hurry and Persephone turned from her friend to witness Aimias stumbling down the last few steps of a staircase that led to the upper levels of the homestead, his robe pulled over a chiton, his hair wild, his beard still more so and his cheeks and eyes looking hollow. Her heart went out to the man, wondering if he had been ill or suffering.
Reaching up, she lowered her hood, her black hair forming another beneath it but her face now more visible, pale and white against the starkness of her hair and in the dim light of oil lamps.
"Aimias..." She said with a smile reserved for family.
Before she could get another word out, however, he had lunged forwards and wrapped his arms solidly around her, in an embrace that felt more like home than Persephone was expecting. She leant into it for a moment and offered her own arms to be wrapped around his waist for a second, before she insisted on pushing him back.
"I'll drench you..." She murmured as a means of explanation, uselessly brushing away at the damp patches now spreading across the front of his garments.
Looking towards the Lady Iris as Iason and Chrysanthe joined them indoors, Persephone wasn't sure where to start or what to do. Instead, she fell back on the simplest and insignificant of details first and foremost.
"Do you happen to have a soft seat we could avail ourselves of, Iris?" She asked with a soft smile. She had been on horseback for many hours and her legs were stiff. Perhaps if they could relocate to a comfortable sitting room, they could progress their greetings in a more private manner than in the front hallway of the Argyris manor.
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Knowing that her now sodden hood kept most of her features covered, Persephone expected no less when the Lady Iris opened the door and took to stooping so that she might witness the identity of her late-night caller. Persephone did not look up, nor aid in the young woman seeing her face, just in case one of her servants was to also notice and recognise her features.
As she met the Lady Iris' gaze beneath the rim of her hood, Persephone neither smiled nor spoke, only offering a trusting gaze that suggested she knew her presence to be something she should apologise for but that she had to trust in the woman's hospitality. If not hers, as her friend, then Aimias's as the closest thing she had to a brother.
After all... Persephone openly admitted that she had no idea what had been occurring in Athenia since she was forced to exile herself away in Taengea. She had no expectations of a warm welcome. Only the potential for loyalty in those whom she had befriended for so many years. Enough so at least that they would help her to find and take Emilia and then leave again, forfeiting the crown in favour of a quiet life in Taengea. She had ever hope that removing herself and her sister from the political equation in the capitol, would allow tensions to ease and fair rule to resume. Even if she wasn't the one dictating it as her father had always wished until his deathbed confession...
The Lady Iris' reaction to her appearance was more or less what she had expected and more than she could have hoped for. The woman was instantly aware of the situation, her intellect not faltering as she recognised the danger of Persephone's presence - both to Perse herself but also to Iris and her family. The baroness reached out a welcoming hand that offered a moment of pressure on the back of Persephone's shoulder and guided her into the front hallway of her home.
Looking over her shoulder towards the others that had hovered, still saddled, in case the welcome had been closer to the slamming of a door in her face, Persephone looked to Iason with an expectation that he would follow her.
"Demetrius, if you would attend the horses?" She heard her voice call softly through the rain and then smiled at Olena to show her permission for the redhead to go with him. A slight tilt of her head towards the indoors was all the instruction she gave to Chrysanthe, to follow in her wake and play her role as the newly appointed lady's maid. She doubted that Chrysanthe had heard the Lady Iris with her instructions and wondered briefly if the girl had even worked out that she was royalty, more than simple nobility. Well... she would find out soon enough...
Stepping further into the estate, she was tempted to murmur low to Iris that describing her as such - 'the Queen' - was probably risky but she trusted in the woman's intelligence. She would only say such things to those she trusted explicitly...
She had barely walked two steps further into the house when there was the loud of tread of a full grown man in a hurry and Persephone turned from her friend to witness Aimias stumbling down the last few steps of a staircase that led to the upper levels of the homestead, his robe pulled over a chiton, his hair wild, his beard still more so and his cheeks and eyes looking hollow. Her heart went out to the man, wondering if he had been ill or suffering.
Reaching up, she lowered her hood, her black hair forming another beneath it but her face now more visible, pale and white against the starkness of her hair and in the dim light of oil lamps.
"Aimias..." She said with a smile reserved for family.
Before she could get another word out, however, he had lunged forwards and wrapped his arms solidly around her, in an embrace that felt more like home than Persephone was expecting. She leant into it for a moment and offered her own arms to be wrapped around his waist for a second, before she insisted on pushing him back.
"I'll drench you..." She murmured as a means of explanation, uselessly brushing away at the damp patches now spreading across the front of his garments.
Looking towards the Lady Iris as Iason and Chrysanthe joined them indoors, Persephone wasn't sure where to start or what to do. Instead, she fell back on the simplest and insignificant of details first and foremost.
"Do you happen to have a soft seat we could avail ourselves of, Iris?" She asked with a soft smile. She had been on horseback for many hours and her legs were stiff. Perhaps if they could relocate to a comfortable sitting room, they could progress their greetings in a more private manner than in the front hallway of the Argyris manor.
Knowing that her now sodden hood kept most of her features covered, Persephone expected no less when the Lady Iris opened the door and took to stooping so that she might witness the identity of her late-night caller. Persephone did not look up, nor aid in the young woman seeing her face, just in case one of her servants was to also notice and recognise her features.
As she met the Lady Iris' gaze beneath the rim of her hood, Persephone neither smiled nor spoke, only offering a trusting gaze that suggested she knew her presence to be something she should apologise for but that she had to trust in the woman's hospitality. If not hers, as her friend, then Aimias's as the closest thing she had to a brother.
After all... Persephone openly admitted that she had no idea what had been occurring in Athenia since she was forced to exile herself away in Taengea. She had no expectations of a warm welcome. Only the potential for loyalty in those whom she had befriended for so many years. Enough so at least that they would help her to find and take Emilia and then leave again, forfeiting the crown in favour of a quiet life in Taengea. She had ever hope that removing herself and her sister from the political equation in the capitol, would allow tensions to ease and fair rule to resume. Even if she wasn't the one dictating it as her father had always wished until his deathbed confession...
The Lady Iris' reaction to her appearance was more or less what she had expected and more than she could have hoped for. The woman was instantly aware of the situation, her intellect not faltering as she recognised the danger of Persephone's presence - both to Perse herself but also to Iris and her family. The baroness reached out a welcoming hand that offered a moment of pressure on the back of Persephone's shoulder and guided her into the front hallway of her home.
Looking over her shoulder towards the others that had hovered, still saddled, in case the welcome had been closer to the slamming of a door in her face, Persephone looked to Iason with an expectation that he would follow her.
"Demetrius, if you would attend the horses?" She heard her voice call softly through the rain and then smiled at Olena to show her permission for the redhead to go with him. A slight tilt of her head towards the indoors was all the instruction she gave to Chrysanthe, to follow in her wake and play her role as the newly appointed lady's maid. She doubted that Chrysanthe had heard the Lady Iris with her instructions and wondered briefly if the girl had even worked out that she was royalty, more than simple nobility. Well... she would find out soon enough...
Stepping further into the estate, she was tempted to murmur low to Iris that describing her as such - 'the Queen' - was probably risky but she trusted in the woman's intelligence. She would only say such things to those she trusted explicitly...
She had barely walked two steps further into the house when there was the loud of tread of a full grown man in a hurry and Persephone turned from her friend to witness Aimias stumbling down the last few steps of a staircase that led to the upper levels of the homestead, his robe pulled over a chiton, his hair wild, his beard still more so and his cheeks and eyes looking hollow. Her heart went out to the man, wondering if he had been ill or suffering.
Reaching up, she lowered her hood, her black hair forming another beneath it but her face now more visible, pale and white against the starkness of her hair and in the dim light of oil lamps.
"Aimias..." She said with a smile reserved for family.
Before she could get another word out, however, he had lunged forwards and wrapped his arms solidly around her, in an embrace that felt more like home than Persephone was expecting. She leant into it for a moment and offered her own arms to be wrapped around his waist for a second, before she insisted on pushing him back.
"I'll drench you..." She murmured as a means of explanation, uselessly brushing away at the damp patches now spreading across the front of his garments.
Looking towards the Lady Iris as Iason and Chrysanthe joined them indoors, Persephone wasn't sure where to start or what to do. Instead, she fell back on the simplest and insignificant of details first and foremost.
"Do you happen to have a soft seat we could avail ourselves of, Iris?" She asked with a soft smile. She had been on horseback for many hours and her legs were stiff. Perhaps if they could relocate to a comfortable sitting room, they could progress their greetings in a more private manner than in the front hallway of the Argyris manor.
Iris could only admit to herself that she was relieved the princess was in good health. It had been one of the only things that she had been asking of the gods in recent days. While Persephone's wellbeing and even her life had been a point of question, Iris had held out hope that she would return to Athenia safe and sound. Suffice to say that she had gotten her wish, though the timing left much to be desired. The lady was dragging with exhaustion, her mind still on the little girl that lay sound asleep upstairs. The presence of Aimias as he trailed down the stairs had Phillipa planted very firmly in her mind. The last thing she wanted was for her to wake up alone.
But it was the greeting between Aimias and Persephone, the embrace and the brushing of water off of her husband, that had Iris faltering. Something in her chest squeezed at the sight and she quickly tore her gaze from them to quell the very blatantly jealous thoughts that flitted through her tired mind. Especially when more people stepped into her home. Iris made a concerted effort to keep from looking at Aimias or anywhere even close to him. Her focus should have been on being a good host, not the frustration and silent resentment she held toward her new husband.
She silently reminded herself that she had married for duty and to give his daughter a mother figure. Love had not been in the equation, so being jealous over lack of affection was purely illogical considering the events that had brought them there. In essence, Iris told herself to stop being a petty bitch and do as the Queen had asked of her while she had stood there, uncomfortable and trying not to gawk or recoil.
Thankfully, she had a perfect handle on her expressions and her own body language. It was easy to attribute her slight inattentiveness to all of the activity and continued exhaustion from the two weeks before. "Mm?" she finally hummed, her gaze refocusing in the small group. A smile lit her lips, exhausted but friendly. "Yes, of course," she said calmly, motioning the entire group further into the home. She brought them to the den that held a number of lounges for seating.
Acantha had returned, carrying an armful of blankets for their guests so that they could dry off and warm up. "My sister?" Iris questioned Acantha, who nodded her head back up toward the stairs as an indication that she was coming. Iris touched Acantha's shoulder with affection in her gaze and then took a few blankets to hand them off to both Iason and Chrysanthe. "Drinks, please," Iris whispered when Acantha came close. The lady in waiting passed off the rest of the blankets to Iris and turned to flit away to the kitchens. "Please, sit," Iris offered her guests, her green eyes flicking to each one of them.
The sound of footsteps from the hall drew Iris' attention and she turned to face the door, looking relieved when Dianthe stepped into the doorway. She was rubbing her neck, her tired gaze on Iris, "Iris what-" Her dark gaze had drifted to Persephone and the Queen's lady-in-waiting froze. "Oh…" she mumbled as she took the first steps toward Persephone. Swallowing hard, she slowly reached her hands out to her Queen, bowing in the process. “I don’t think words can express how happy the sight of you makes me,” Dianthe admitted softly, glancing toward Iris once and then back to Persephone.
Iris had set to giving Persephone a blanket, then draping the last one over Aimias’ shoulder so that he might warm up from hugging the sopping wet Persephone. She said absolutely nothing and did not linger long enough to catch his gaze or so much as brush against him. She was then out the doors of the den and going to help Acantha carry in jugs of both water and wine as well as numerous cups. They set everything out on the table toward the side of the room.
“Water? Wine?” she offered to everyone all at once, ready to pour drinks at a moment's notice. She understood that Persephone coming at the cover of rain and darkness meant that she did not want to be seen. However, that did not mean that Iris could just hide her away immediately. “Acantha,” she motioned her lady over, leaning more toward her.
“Find a couple of new gowns for the queen and her ladies and a few chitons from my father’s things for the men. They’re about as tall,” she said quietly, “I want them warm and dry as soon as possible. There will be no more illness in this house. The gods know little Phillipa does not need another cough to sicken her.”
Acantha nodded firmly, “Yes, my lady,” she said softly, turning to exit the room. She paused long enough to give Persephone another bow and then flounced out of the den on her new mission. Iris poured herself a cup of wine and took a small sip, calming her nerves and trying to shake the tiredness from her limbs long enough to get through the rest of the night and get everyone to bed.
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Iris could only admit to herself that she was relieved the princess was in good health. It had been one of the only things that she had been asking of the gods in recent days. While Persephone's wellbeing and even her life had been a point of question, Iris had held out hope that she would return to Athenia safe and sound. Suffice to say that she had gotten her wish, though the timing left much to be desired. The lady was dragging with exhaustion, her mind still on the little girl that lay sound asleep upstairs. The presence of Aimias as he trailed down the stairs had Phillipa planted very firmly in her mind. The last thing she wanted was for her to wake up alone.
But it was the greeting between Aimias and Persephone, the embrace and the brushing of water off of her husband, that had Iris faltering. Something in her chest squeezed at the sight and she quickly tore her gaze from them to quell the very blatantly jealous thoughts that flitted through her tired mind. Especially when more people stepped into her home. Iris made a concerted effort to keep from looking at Aimias or anywhere even close to him. Her focus should have been on being a good host, not the frustration and silent resentment she held toward her new husband.
She silently reminded herself that she had married for duty and to give his daughter a mother figure. Love had not been in the equation, so being jealous over lack of affection was purely illogical considering the events that had brought them there. In essence, Iris told herself to stop being a petty bitch and do as the Queen had asked of her while she had stood there, uncomfortable and trying not to gawk or recoil.
Thankfully, she had a perfect handle on her expressions and her own body language. It was easy to attribute her slight inattentiveness to all of the activity and continued exhaustion from the two weeks before. "Mm?" she finally hummed, her gaze refocusing in the small group. A smile lit her lips, exhausted but friendly. "Yes, of course," she said calmly, motioning the entire group further into the home. She brought them to the den that held a number of lounges for seating.
Acantha had returned, carrying an armful of blankets for their guests so that they could dry off and warm up. "My sister?" Iris questioned Acantha, who nodded her head back up toward the stairs as an indication that she was coming. Iris touched Acantha's shoulder with affection in her gaze and then took a few blankets to hand them off to both Iason and Chrysanthe. "Drinks, please," Iris whispered when Acantha came close. The lady in waiting passed off the rest of the blankets to Iris and turned to flit away to the kitchens. "Please, sit," Iris offered her guests, her green eyes flicking to each one of them.
The sound of footsteps from the hall drew Iris' attention and she turned to face the door, looking relieved when Dianthe stepped into the doorway. She was rubbing her neck, her tired gaze on Iris, "Iris what-" Her dark gaze had drifted to Persephone and the Queen's lady-in-waiting froze. "Oh…" she mumbled as she took the first steps toward Persephone. Swallowing hard, she slowly reached her hands out to her Queen, bowing in the process. “I don’t think words can express how happy the sight of you makes me,” Dianthe admitted softly, glancing toward Iris once and then back to Persephone.
Iris had set to giving Persephone a blanket, then draping the last one over Aimias’ shoulder so that he might warm up from hugging the sopping wet Persephone. She said absolutely nothing and did not linger long enough to catch his gaze or so much as brush against him. She was then out the doors of the den and going to help Acantha carry in jugs of both water and wine as well as numerous cups. They set everything out on the table toward the side of the room.
“Water? Wine?” she offered to everyone all at once, ready to pour drinks at a moment's notice. She understood that Persephone coming at the cover of rain and darkness meant that she did not want to be seen. However, that did not mean that Iris could just hide her away immediately. “Acantha,” she motioned her lady over, leaning more toward her.
“Find a couple of new gowns for the queen and her ladies and a few chitons from my father’s things for the men. They’re about as tall,” she said quietly, “I want them warm and dry as soon as possible. There will be no more illness in this house. The gods know little Phillipa does not need another cough to sicken her.”
Acantha nodded firmly, “Yes, my lady,” she said softly, turning to exit the room. She paused long enough to give Persephone another bow and then flounced out of the den on her new mission. Iris poured herself a cup of wine and took a small sip, calming her nerves and trying to shake the tiredness from her limbs long enough to get through the rest of the night and get everyone to bed.
Iris could only admit to herself that she was relieved the princess was in good health. It had been one of the only things that she had been asking of the gods in recent days. While Persephone's wellbeing and even her life had been a point of question, Iris had held out hope that she would return to Athenia safe and sound. Suffice to say that she had gotten her wish, though the timing left much to be desired. The lady was dragging with exhaustion, her mind still on the little girl that lay sound asleep upstairs. The presence of Aimias as he trailed down the stairs had Phillipa planted very firmly in her mind. The last thing she wanted was for her to wake up alone.
But it was the greeting between Aimias and Persephone, the embrace and the brushing of water off of her husband, that had Iris faltering. Something in her chest squeezed at the sight and she quickly tore her gaze from them to quell the very blatantly jealous thoughts that flitted through her tired mind. Especially when more people stepped into her home. Iris made a concerted effort to keep from looking at Aimias or anywhere even close to him. Her focus should have been on being a good host, not the frustration and silent resentment she held toward her new husband.
She silently reminded herself that she had married for duty and to give his daughter a mother figure. Love had not been in the equation, so being jealous over lack of affection was purely illogical considering the events that had brought them there. In essence, Iris told herself to stop being a petty bitch and do as the Queen had asked of her while she had stood there, uncomfortable and trying not to gawk or recoil.
Thankfully, she had a perfect handle on her expressions and her own body language. It was easy to attribute her slight inattentiveness to all of the activity and continued exhaustion from the two weeks before. "Mm?" she finally hummed, her gaze refocusing in the small group. A smile lit her lips, exhausted but friendly. "Yes, of course," she said calmly, motioning the entire group further into the home. She brought them to the den that held a number of lounges for seating.
Acantha had returned, carrying an armful of blankets for their guests so that they could dry off and warm up. "My sister?" Iris questioned Acantha, who nodded her head back up toward the stairs as an indication that she was coming. Iris touched Acantha's shoulder with affection in her gaze and then took a few blankets to hand them off to both Iason and Chrysanthe. "Drinks, please," Iris whispered when Acantha came close. The lady in waiting passed off the rest of the blankets to Iris and turned to flit away to the kitchens. "Please, sit," Iris offered her guests, her green eyes flicking to each one of them.
The sound of footsteps from the hall drew Iris' attention and she turned to face the door, looking relieved when Dianthe stepped into the doorway. She was rubbing her neck, her tired gaze on Iris, "Iris what-" Her dark gaze had drifted to Persephone and the Queen's lady-in-waiting froze. "Oh…" she mumbled as she took the first steps toward Persephone. Swallowing hard, she slowly reached her hands out to her Queen, bowing in the process. “I don’t think words can express how happy the sight of you makes me,” Dianthe admitted softly, glancing toward Iris once and then back to Persephone.
Iris had set to giving Persephone a blanket, then draping the last one over Aimias’ shoulder so that he might warm up from hugging the sopping wet Persephone. She said absolutely nothing and did not linger long enough to catch his gaze or so much as brush against him. She was then out the doors of the den and going to help Acantha carry in jugs of both water and wine as well as numerous cups. They set everything out on the table toward the side of the room.
“Water? Wine?” she offered to everyone all at once, ready to pour drinks at a moment's notice. She understood that Persephone coming at the cover of rain and darkness meant that she did not want to be seen. However, that did not mean that Iris could just hide her away immediately. “Acantha,” she motioned her lady over, leaning more toward her.
“Find a couple of new gowns for the queen and her ladies and a few chitons from my father’s things for the men. They’re about as tall,” she said quietly, “I want them warm and dry as soon as possible. There will be no more illness in this house. The gods know little Phillipa does not need another cough to sicken her.”
Acantha nodded firmly, “Yes, my lady,” she said softly, turning to exit the room. She paused long enough to give Persephone another bow and then flounced out of the den on her new mission. Iris poured herself a cup of wine and took a small sip, calming her nerves and trying to shake the tiredness from her limbs long enough to get through the rest of the night and get everyone to bed.
This was the first time in her life that Chrysanthe was outside of Taengea and she still seemed to be struggling to find her feet. It was enough of a change to start working as a lady’s maid to this noblewoman, but then to travel with her back to her homeland, it was as if everything had been flipped upside down and inside out. It was all Chrysanthe could do to keep up with her new duties, and try not to get hopelessly lost.
Despite the fact that Chrysanthe had spent much of the voyage taking care of Persephone. The voyage had not agreed with the lady. Chrysanthe, on the other hand, loved the feel of being out on the water, with the wind blowing across the deck. It felt so freeing to be out there, just the small little boat amongst so much water. But almost as soon as the voyage had started, it had ended, and here she was in yet another new and unfamiliar place.
They had arrived in Athenia and then had a harrowing horseback ride across the countryside. That form of transportation Chrysanthe enjoyed much less than boats. She was lucky she hadn’t had to control the horse, as she had spent the entire time trying desperately not to fall off. It had not helped that they had been caught in a downpour and Chrysanthe had felt herself slipping and sliding all over the horse’s back. Still, she didn’t complain, just clung on for dear life and prayed to any god who might listen to allow her not to slip off of the horse’s back and get trampled.
Finally, late into the night, they arrived at a house, or well more than a house, a mansion Chrysanthe supposed. It seemed too grand a building to simply be called a house. Presumably, Persephone knew who lived there. Luckily, they weren’t left waiting dripping at the door for that long before the door was answered by a woman and a man that Persephone obviously knew. Chrysanthe felt out of place, and just waited quietly hanging back as they exchanged greetings.
Chrysanthe accepted the blanket and wrapped it around herself with a quick word of thanks to the woman who had handed it to her. She hadn’t realized she was shivering in the damp until she was firmly wrapped up in the blanket. Then they were directed to sit and offered refreshments. Chrysanthe remained standing, looking at Persephone uncomfortably. She wasn’t used to anyone doing things like this for her, and she was feeling quite overwhelmed and uncomfortable that anyone would be providing this sort of thing for her. What was expected of her in this circumstance? She had nothing that she could give in return. Yet, at the same time, she was sure it would be rude for her to protest. Instead, she found herself looking from Persephone to Iris and back again uncertainly, still unsure what this job demanded of her, and not wanting to cause any offense.
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This was the first time in her life that Chrysanthe was outside of Taengea and she still seemed to be struggling to find her feet. It was enough of a change to start working as a lady’s maid to this noblewoman, but then to travel with her back to her homeland, it was as if everything had been flipped upside down and inside out. It was all Chrysanthe could do to keep up with her new duties, and try not to get hopelessly lost.
Despite the fact that Chrysanthe had spent much of the voyage taking care of Persephone. The voyage had not agreed with the lady. Chrysanthe, on the other hand, loved the feel of being out on the water, with the wind blowing across the deck. It felt so freeing to be out there, just the small little boat amongst so much water. But almost as soon as the voyage had started, it had ended, and here she was in yet another new and unfamiliar place.
They had arrived in Athenia and then had a harrowing horseback ride across the countryside. That form of transportation Chrysanthe enjoyed much less than boats. She was lucky she hadn’t had to control the horse, as she had spent the entire time trying desperately not to fall off. It had not helped that they had been caught in a downpour and Chrysanthe had felt herself slipping and sliding all over the horse’s back. Still, she didn’t complain, just clung on for dear life and prayed to any god who might listen to allow her not to slip off of the horse’s back and get trampled.
Finally, late into the night, they arrived at a house, or well more than a house, a mansion Chrysanthe supposed. It seemed too grand a building to simply be called a house. Presumably, Persephone knew who lived there. Luckily, they weren’t left waiting dripping at the door for that long before the door was answered by a woman and a man that Persephone obviously knew. Chrysanthe felt out of place, and just waited quietly hanging back as they exchanged greetings.
Chrysanthe accepted the blanket and wrapped it around herself with a quick word of thanks to the woman who had handed it to her. She hadn’t realized she was shivering in the damp until she was firmly wrapped up in the blanket. Then they were directed to sit and offered refreshments. Chrysanthe remained standing, looking at Persephone uncomfortably. She wasn’t used to anyone doing things like this for her, and she was feeling quite overwhelmed and uncomfortable that anyone would be providing this sort of thing for her. What was expected of her in this circumstance? She had nothing that she could give in return. Yet, at the same time, she was sure it would be rude for her to protest. Instead, she found herself looking from Persephone to Iris and back again uncertainly, still unsure what this job demanded of her, and not wanting to cause any offense.
This was the first time in her life that Chrysanthe was outside of Taengea and she still seemed to be struggling to find her feet. It was enough of a change to start working as a lady’s maid to this noblewoman, but then to travel with her back to her homeland, it was as if everything had been flipped upside down and inside out. It was all Chrysanthe could do to keep up with her new duties, and try not to get hopelessly lost.
Despite the fact that Chrysanthe had spent much of the voyage taking care of Persephone. The voyage had not agreed with the lady. Chrysanthe, on the other hand, loved the feel of being out on the water, with the wind blowing across the deck. It felt so freeing to be out there, just the small little boat amongst so much water. But almost as soon as the voyage had started, it had ended, and here she was in yet another new and unfamiliar place.
They had arrived in Athenia and then had a harrowing horseback ride across the countryside. That form of transportation Chrysanthe enjoyed much less than boats. She was lucky she hadn’t had to control the horse, as she had spent the entire time trying desperately not to fall off. It had not helped that they had been caught in a downpour and Chrysanthe had felt herself slipping and sliding all over the horse’s back. Still, she didn’t complain, just clung on for dear life and prayed to any god who might listen to allow her not to slip off of the horse’s back and get trampled.
Finally, late into the night, they arrived at a house, or well more than a house, a mansion Chrysanthe supposed. It seemed too grand a building to simply be called a house. Presumably, Persephone knew who lived there. Luckily, they weren’t left waiting dripping at the door for that long before the door was answered by a woman and a man that Persephone obviously knew. Chrysanthe felt out of place, and just waited quietly hanging back as they exchanged greetings.
Chrysanthe accepted the blanket and wrapped it around herself with a quick word of thanks to the woman who had handed it to her. She hadn’t realized she was shivering in the damp until she was firmly wrapped up in the blanket. Then they were directed to sit and offered refreshments. Chrysanthe remained standing, looking at Persephone uncomfortably. She wasn’t used to anyone doing things like this for her, and she was feeling quite overwhelmed and uncomfortable that anyone would be providing this sort of thing for her. What was expected of her in this circumstance? She had nothing that she could give in return. Yet, at the same time, she was sure it would be rude for her to protest. Instead, she found herself looking from Persephone to Iris and back again uncertainly, still unsure what this job demanded of her, and not wanting to cause any offense.
It was obvious that he had been struggling against the weight of his decisions and against the choices that had been made for him. Aimias had wanted to do more than just wait for the world to move around him. He wanted to be a force to be reckoned with, to march into the palati and rip the usurper out its walls. Elias had been behind the attack, and Aimias knew it, but the proof hadn’t been there. He could only point fingers and hope that the rest could see. He wished for the ability to take up a sword and fight. But he couldn't. He had never been a fighter in that sense.
Using politics and words, yes. But weapons? That was what it felt like he needed up until today.
Seeing her in that room, waiting for them, was like arming him with a blade. There was hope under this roof now, more so than when he walked through the doors. His daughter was on the mend even if his relationship with his wife was not. And now, his queen had returned. And while he wasn’t sure of her intentions, it lifted his very soul to know that she was here. That she was alive as he had been praying she would be.
It was impossible for people looking in to understand their connection. She was like a sister to him, the only family he’d ever known in the city. When her mother had died, he had worked to support her as needed. And while he wasn’t an overly emotional person, he used what he knew to distract her. He helped her study, kept her focus and in that, they had formed a bond. She had done her best to return the favor when his wife had died. They had leaned on each other with loss, and it was a deep love that bonded them.
But it was wholly innocent in nature.
Had he known his new wife better, he may have seen the reaction on her face. Instead, he was focused on what he had always considered his first duty-- the crown. ”I shall dry, I am sure.” With a laugh, the first in weeks, he offered the princess his arm to guide her into a sitting room. There was no obligation to rank in his action, instead he needed the reassurance that she was real and not a figment of his imagination. He simply trusted that the rest would follow suit.
Settling the Queen into her seat, letting her party fan out around them, Aimias picked the tall backed chair her father had preferred to use when in this room. There were far too many people in the room to be picky about leaving the seat open out of respect. Keeping to the edge of the chair, his eyes finally caught his wife’s, watching as she moved about the room to see to their comforts. Had his eyes not been darting between her and Persephone, he might have noticed the way she was looking. And he would have realized her intent of setting a blanket on his shoulder.
Had he been quicker, he would have taken her hand to press affection into it. But that would have to wait till later.
”Your sister is safe, my Queen. I left her this morning in the care of well placed guards to keep a watch on her. Elias is no fool and wouldn’t dare harm her with so many eyes on him. I can assume you got one of the dozen letters I sent?” He asked cautiously, not sure what information was known and what was coming to light. ”Our code?” He asked, referring to the hidden words within the parchment.
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It was obvious that he had been struggling against the weight of his decisions and against the choices that had been made for him. Aimias had wanted to do more than just wait for the world to move around him. He wanted to be a force to be reckoned with, to march into the palati and rip the usurper out its walls. Elias had been behind the attack, and Aimias knew it, but the proof hadn’t been there. He could only point fingers and hope that the rest could see. He wished for the ability to take up a sword and fight. But he couldn't. He had never been a fighter in that sense.
Using politics and words, yes. But weapons? That was what it felt like he needed up until today.
Seeing her in that room, waiting for them, was like arming him with a blade. There was hope under this roof now, more so than when he walked through the doors. His daughter was on the mend even if his relationship with his wife was not. And now, his queen had returned. And while he wasn’t sure of her intentions, it lifted his very soul to know that she was here. That she was alive as he had been praying she would be.
It was impossible for people looking in to understand their connection. She was like a sister to him, the only family he’d ever known in the city. When her mother had died, he had worked to support her as needed. And while he wasn’t an overly emotional person, he used what he knew to distract her. He helped her study, kept her focus and in that, they had formed a bond. She had done her best to return the favor when his wife had died. They had leaned on each other with loss, and it was a deep love that bonded them.
But it was wholly innocent in nature.
Had he known his new wife better, he may have seen the reaction on her face. Instead, he was focused on what he had always considered his first duty-- the crown. ”I shall dry, I am sure.” With a laugh, the first in weeks, he offered the princess his arm to guide her into a sitting room. There was no obligation to rank in his action, instead he needed the reassurance that she was real and not a figment of his imagination. He simply trusted that the rest would follow suit.
Settling the Queen into her seat, letting her party fan out around them, Aimias picked the tall backed chair her father had preferred to use when in this room. There were far too many people in the room to be picky about leaving the seat open out of respect. Keeping to the edge of the chair, his eyes finally caught his wife’s, watching as she moved about the room to see to their comforts. Had his eyes not been darting between her and Persephone, he might have noticed the way she was looking. And he would have realized her intent of setting a blanket on his shoulder.
Had he been quicker, he would have taken her hand to press affection into it. But that would have to wait till later.
”Your sister is safe, my Queen. I left her this morning in the care of well placed guards to keep a watch on her. Elias is no fool and wouldn’t dare harm her with so many eyes on him. I can assume you got one of the dozen letters I sent?” He asked cautiously, not sure what information was known and what was coming to light. ”Our code?” He asked, referring to the hidden words within the parchment.
It was obvious that he had been struggling against the weight of his decisions and against the choices that had been made for him. Aimias had wanted to do more than just wait for the world to move around him. He wanted to be a force to be reckoned with, to march into the palati and rip the usurper out its walls. Elias had been behind the attack, and Aimias knew it, but the proof hadn’t been there. He could only point fingers and hope that the rest could see. He wished for the ability to take up a sword and fight. But he couldn't. He had never been a fighter in that sense.
Using politics and words, yes. But weapons? That was what it felt like he needed up until today.
Seeing her in that room, waiting for them, was like arming him with a blade. There was hope under this roof now, more so than when he walked through the doors. His daughter was on the mend even if his relationship with his wife was not. And now, his queen had returned. And while he wasn’t sure of her intentions, it lifted his very soul to know that she was here. That she was alive as he had been praying she would be.
It was impossible for people looking in to understand their connection. She was like a sister to him, the only family he’d ever known in the city. When her mother had died, he had worked to support her as needed. And while he wasn’t an overly emotional person, he used what he knew to distract her. He helped her study, kept her focus and in that, they had formed a bond. She had done her best to return the favor when his wife had died. They had leaned on each other with loss, and it was a deep love that bonded them.
But it was wholly innocent in nature.
Had he known his new wife better, he may have seen the reaction on her face. Instead, he was focused on what he had always considered his first duty-- the crown. ”I shall dry, I am sure.” With a laugh, the first in weeks, he offered the princess his arm to guide her into a sitting room. There was no obligation to rank in his action, instead he needed the reassurance that she was real and not a figment of his imagination. He simply trusted that the rest would follow suit.
Settling the Queen into her seat, letting her party fan out around them, Aimias picked the tall backed chair her father had preferred to use when in this room. There were far too many people in the room to be picky about leaving the seat open out of respect. Keeping to the edge of the chair, his eyes finally caught his wife’s, watching as she moved about the room to see to their comforts. Had his eyes not been darting between her and Persephone, he might have noticed the way she was looking. And he would have realized her intent of setting a blanket on his shoulder.
Had he been quicker, he would have taken her hand to press affection into it. But that would have to wait till later.
”Your sister is safe, my Queen. I left her this morning in the care of well placed guards to keep a watch on her. Elias is no fool and wouldn’t dare harm her with so many eyes on him. I can assume you got one of the dozen letters I sent?” He asked cautiously, not sure what information was known and what was coming to light. ”Our code?” He asked, referring to the hidden words within the parchment.
From the moment the ship left Taengean shores he'd felt uneasy. Leaving his father and sisters behind with the promise to return before his father's wedding, an event that he had yet to unpack and he wasn't entirely sure he would ever fully comprehend, had been difficult. Perhaps he might have been more confident if Persephone had agreed to a marriage before they left, but in the quick turn around between the realization that Emilia was alive and the decision to leave hadn't given them a chance to formalize anything.
The boat ride had been rough, even for him. He'd grown up in Taengean waters and sailing between islands was a part of life, but it was nothing compared to the open seas on a fishing vessel. Persephone had been sick, to the point he had been concerned that she was with child. She had been quick to reassure him that she wasn't, but it didn't stop him from being even more aware of her than before in the event that their calculations were incorrect. Even once they were on land it seemed as if something was different, though perhaps that could be put to being back in the place where someone had last been trying to kill them.
Demetrius and Olena rode double behind him, though he could sense the gladiator's equal unease and the grip he held on his sword as relaxed as it appeared held a tension. The rain made their journey all the more difficult and by the time they arrived at the home of her supporters he felt tighter than a bowstring that had been drawn for far too long. Iason dismounted and allowed the gladiator to manage the horses, shadowing the queen as the door was opened and they were ushered inside. The familiar forms of the noble couple of Argyris appeared and to his relief they welcomed the weary travelers inside, seemingly happy to see the queen and her entourage.
Silently following as they were led inside, he gave a nod of greeting to Aimias and a slight smile to Iris and Dianthe, positioning himself at his intended's shoulder as she sat. The heat coming off from the fire would do well enough to warm him up, and so he instead draped the blanket he'd been given around Persephone's shoulders and tried to push back memories of how she'd looked when he had last pulled her out of a storm. Now wasn't the time for that, it was the time to act and get her and Emilia out of here as quickly as they could.
"Demetrius, our guard, found your messenger and brought us the news. We came to collect the princess and bring her home with us."
Perhaps the baron might look at him askance, for the last time they had been together he had been nothing more than a foreign lord and intended to a princess with little but political attachment. Now he was here to protect his family at all costs, the woman who in his eyes was already wife and partner and her sister. Instead of speaking further though he allowed a hand to brush against Perse's shoulder in a manner he hoped was reassuring before settling back again, allowing the queen and advisor to have their words.
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From the moment the ship left Taengean shores he'd felt uneasy. Leaving his father and sisters behind with the promise to return before his father's wedding, an event that he had yet to unpack and he wasn't entirely sure he would ever fully comprehend, had been difficult. Perhaps he might have been more confident if Persephone had agreed to a marriage before they left, but in the quick turn around between the realization that Emilia was alive and the decision to leave hadn't given them a chance to formalize anything.
The boat ride had been rough, even for him. He'd grown up in Taengean waters and sailing between islands was a part of life, but it was nothing compared to the open seas on a fishing vessel. Persephone had been sick, to the point he had been concerned that she was with child. She had been quick to reassure him that she wasn't, but it didn't stop him from being even more aware of her than before in the event that their calculations were incorrect. Even once they were on land it seemed as if something was different, though perhaps that could be put to being back in the place where someone had last been trying to kill them.
Demetrius and Olena rode double behind him, though he could sense the gladiator's equal unease and the grip he held on his sword as relaxed as it appeared held a tension. The rain made their journey all the more difficult and by the time they arrived at the home of her supporters he felt tighter than a bowstring that had been drawn for far too long. Iason dismounted and allowed the gladiator to manage the horses, shadowing the queen as the door was opened and they were ushered inside. The familiar forms of the noble couple of Argyris appeared and to his relief they welcomed the weary travelers inside, seemingly happy to see the queen and her entourage.
Silently following as they were led inside, he gave a nod of greeting to Aimias and a slight smile to Iris and Dianthe, positioning himself at his intended's shoulder as she sat. The heat coming off from the fire would do well enough to warm him up, and so he instead draped the blanket he'd been given around Persephone's shoulders and tried to push back memories of how she'd looked when he had last pulled her out of a storm. Now wasn't the time for that, it was the time to act and get her and Emilia out of here as quickly as they could.
"Demetrius, our guard, found your messenger and brought us the news. We came to collect the princess and bring her home with us."
Perhaps the baron might look at him askance, for the last time they had been together he had been nothing more than a foreign lord and intended to a princess with little but political attachment. Now he was here to protect his family at all costs, the woman who in his eyes was already wife and partner and her sister. Instead of speaking further though he allowed a hand to brush against Perse's shoulder in a manner he hoped was reassuring before settling back again, allowing the queen and advisor to have their words.
From the moment the ship left Taengean shores he'd felt uneasy. Leaving his father and sisters behind with the promise to return before his father's wedding, an event that he had yet to unpack and he wasn't entirely sure he would ever fully comprehend, had been difficult. Perhaps he might have been more confident if Persephone had agreed to a marriage before they left, but in the quick turn around between the realization that Emilia was alive and the decision to leave hadn't given them a chance to formalize anything.
The boat ride had been rough, even for him. He'd grown up in Taengean waters and sailing between islands was a part of life, but it was nothing compared to the open seas on a fishing vessel. Persephone had been sick, to the point he had been concerned that she was with child. She had been quick to reassure him that she wasn't, but it didn't stop him from being even more aware of her than before in the event that their calculations were incorrect. Even once they were on land it seemed as if something was different, though perhaps that could be put to being back in the place where someone had last been trying to kill them.
Demetrius and Olena rode double behind him, though he could sense the gladiator's equal unease and the grip he held on his sword as relaxed as it appeared held a tension. The rain made their journey all the more difficult and by the time they arrived at the home of her supporters he felt tighter than a bowstring that had been drawn for far too long. Iason dismounted and allowed the gladiator to manage the horses, shadowing the queen as the door was opened and they were ushered inside. The familiar forms of the noble couple of Argyris appeared and to his relief they welcomed the weary travelers inside, seemingly happy to see the queen and her entourage.
Silently following as they were led inside, he gave a nod of greeting to Aimias and a slight smile to Iris and Dianthe, positioning himself at his intended's shoulder as she sat. The heat coming off from the fire would do well enough to warm him up, and so he instead draped the blanket he'd been given around Persephone's shoulders and tried to push back memories of how she'd looked when he had last pulled her out of a storm. Now wasn't the time for that, it was the time to act and get her and Emilia out of here as quickly as they could.
"Demetrius, our guard, found your messenger and brought us the news. We came to collect the princess and bring her home with us."
Perhaps the baron might look at him askance, for the last time they had been together he had been nothing more than a foreign lord and intended to a princess with little but political attachment. Now he was here to protect his family at all costs, the woman who in his eyes was already wife and partner and her sister. Instead of speaking further though he allowed a hand to brush against Perse's shoulder in a manner he hoped was reassuring before settling back again, allowing the queen and advisor to have their words.
As Persephone was encouraged into the den-like room, it became her natural instinct for all focus to fall away from herself and drift to the people around her. Perhaps it could be called a reaction natural to one who was compassionate. Perhaps it was simply a protective-instinct for her own emotions; in times when she was particularly tense or feeling a high level of emotive connection, it was an easier option to focus on others and distract herself with their needs and wishes.
As she was led down the corridor and towards the main den, she offered a very small and soft smile towards Chrysanthe who appeared wide-eyed and clearly nervous at her new environment, whilst she reached out to take the hand of Iason, who shadowed her as both shield and support.
In that moment, her fingers gently interlocked with her future husband, her closest friends around her and new acquaintances she was rapidly growing to like loyal to her personage, Persephone felt for a moment like she was buoyant. Lifted on the love and support of others.
The den that they were led to was warm and cosy - a thankful change to the wet and rain of their sea voyage and ride to the Argyris manor. It was decorated in warm browns and reds, whilst the fabrics were a complimentary mix of maroon and blues. The seats were constructed with plush padding and the fire in the hearth raged with a welcome anger.
Persephone said little as she was settled and sorted by those she cared for.
Almost immediately, upon entering the room, Iason was directing her to an appropriate seat where she could take the weight from her weary horse-riding legs, and she offered him a smile of thanks. The man who had taken the greatest of care of her since they had met had appeared to turn up the level of perceptive protectiveness since they had become lovers. Unsure whether this was a by-product of sharing a bed with the man, or if it had been his concerns for her apparent pregnancy during the journey that had set him on a path of such tenderness, Persephone did not know. But she was thankful for it, regardless. Whilst she did not believe herself to be with child, she would not take unnecessary risks that would make him uneasy.
And catching her death through cold would hardly be considered unrisky.
As such, she was happy to reach up and remove the sodden cloak that lay around her shoulders and, instead, thank the Lady Iris for the towelling cloth she offered in exchange. The cloak was spirited away by the young Acantha, who was clearly an experienced lady’s maid and completed her duties as if psychic with her mistress, and the towel secured around her shoulders.
Glancing towards Chrysanthe who stood with a genuine sweetness and an awkward facial expression, Persephone smiled with encouragement to her. With a soft gesture of her palm waving slowly down before her own face - an encouragement to remind Chrysanthe to appear calm and graceful - and then the same hand moving to parallel to the floor and push down - a strong indication for Chrysanthe to sit, Persephone then made sure to keep eye contact with the young woman when she herself straightened her spine and realigned her posture.
Whilst the two of them had spoken a lot on the boat from Taengea and discussed the duties of a lady’s maid - not to mention the appearance and behaviour of one - Persephone understood strongly that there was a different between theory and practice. And that the young Chrysanthe would need a lot of steady encouragement and patience before she was even close to the level of Iris's maid Acantha.
Her silent little instructions to the young woman were subtle and polite, but they were also distracting to herself, for Persephone didn't notice Iason's deference to placing his own towel as a second layer around her shoulders.
Persephone turned, her lips parting to argue that he himself should also be warm, but the look he sent her surreptitiously from her shoulder had her snapping her mouth shut and taking the care without complaint.
When the Lady Iris offered drinks to her guests, Persephone glanced towards Chrysanthe again, this time offering her something she could distract herself with.
"Chrysanthe... perhaps you could fetch Iason and myself a cup of wine each?" She suggested in a soft tone of instruction. That way, Iris would be able to stop playing hostess when it was the middle of the night and she was clearly exhausted. Regardless of their own fatigue, they were the guests and needed to not impose so strongly upon the home of those they were turning to for help.
Aimias spoke next to assure Persephone that Emilia was well and alive. Her eyes shone with a gratitude so intense it seemed to light up the room, his words not yet asked for but his knowledge of her as a person recognising that it was the first thing she wanted to know. The information regarding Elias she could care less for at this time, but Emilia.... Emilia, she longed to see and hold so desperately it felt like a physical pain. Now that she was in Athenia and so close, that pain seemed to grow worse.
Before she could respond, however, the Lady Iris instructed that clothing be fetched for herself, her betrothed and the attendees she travelled with. Her words commented on an illness for the little Phillipa and Persephone was immediately concerned and contrite.
Not only had they disturbed her friends and their family in the dead of night... it had been an inappropriate time in their child's health also!
The look upon Persephone's face was one of worried apology as she opened her mouth to put such an expression into words, but there was a soft wave of hands and general disregard for any apology she had to make on the topic. Her mind not entirely quietened on the subject - for she would insist on finding out the status of Aimias' daughter later. Now was not the time, regardless of the importance of the topic.
Despite the fact that she had spent near the entire voyage trying to construct the words she would need to seek out Emilia and ask for help from her friends in carrying out a plan of rescue, of checking with Aimias if Emilia would even wish to leave Athenia and her birth right behind... in this moment, when it was needed, she couldn't seem to find the words.
She had no idea what Iris and Aimias were expecting of her and what her return would mean to them. And the last thing she wanted to do was harm or injure her friends.
Iason, however, beat her to it. His protective nature and determination (that she was fully aware of) to have her back in Taengea as quickly as possible, saw his tongue speeding the process along. His words made it clear that they were here on a temporary measure - to take Emilia and disappear once more...
"Iason..." The single word was soft and compassionate and Persephone reached out to brush her fingertips against his arm in a gesture that implied thanks but also moderation. She moved her focus to look to Iris and Aimias.
"I received your code..." She said, as a beginning, her smile this time for her counsel, her eyes bright with the nostalgia they both shared. Then her smile slipped and her expression turned serious. Her words came out factual, determined not to be lost in impractical emotion. "From my experience on the night I left, I believed Emilia to have been lost. Please trust that nothing would have prevented me from leaving Athenian soil if I thought her to have been alive." Her eyes brightened further with a sheen of unshed tears but she kept them back and maintained her serenity. "Your letter was the first I heard of her surviving and I received it ten days ago." With a week's travel time and day to ride from the coast to Aetaea, that would tell them exactly how quickly she had boarded a ship upon learning of her sister being alive.
"I'm here to ensure she is alright. To give her whatever support she needs in... whatever path she wants to take. Whether that be here or in Taengea." As she had spoken with Iason, if Emilia wished to stay in Athenia, she would see to her sister's comfort and position and safety and then return with her betrothed to their new home - the home she had promised him.
Persephone's expression turned sad as she pulled her towel closer around her shoulders.
"My father's hubris has seen to throw Athenia into turmoil." She concluded. "I do not wish for my own to draw us into a civil war. I shall be here only as long as Emilia needs and then I shall leave Athenia to peace."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As Persephone was encouraged into the den-like room, it became her natural instinct for all focus to fall away from herself and drift to the people around her. Perhaps it could be called a reaction natural to one who was compassionate. Perhaps it was simply a protective-instinct for her own emotions; in times when she was particularly tense or feeling a high level of emotive connection, it was an easier option to focus on others and distract herself with their needs and wishes.
As she was led down the corridor and towards the main den, she offered a very small and soft smile towards Chrysanthe who appeared wide-eyed and clearly nervous at her new environment, whilst she reached out to take the hand of Iason, who shadowed her as both shield and support.
In that moment, her fingers gently interlocked with her future husband, her closest friends around her and new acquaintances she was rapidly growing to like loyal to her personage, Persephone felt for a moment like she was buoyant. Lifted on the love and support of others.
The den that they were led to was warm and cosy - a thankful change to the wet and rain of their sea voyage and ride to the Argyris manor. It was decorated in warm browns and reds, whilst the fabrics were a complimentary mix of maroon and blues. The seats were constructed with plush padding and the fire in the hearth raged with a welcome anger.
Persephone said little as she was settled and sorted by those she cared for.
Almost immediately, upon entering the room, Iason was directing her to an appropriate seat where she could take the weight from her weary horse-riding legs, and she offered him a smile of thanks. The man who had taken the greatest of care of her since they had met had appeared to turn up the level of perceptive protectiveness since they had become lovers. Unsure whether this was a by-product of sharing a bed with the man, or if it had been his concerns for her apparent pregnancy during the journey that had set him on a path of such tenderness, Persephone did not know. But she was thankful for it, regardless. Whilst she did not believe herself to be with child, she would not take unnecessary risks that would make him uneasy.
And catching her death through cold would hardly be considered unrisky.
As such, she was happy to reach up and remove the sodden cloak that lay around her shoulders and, instead, thank the Lady Iris for the towelling cloth she offered in exchange. The cloak was spirited away by the young Acantha, who was clearly an experienced lady’s maid and completed her duties as if psychic with her mistress, and the towel secured around her shoulders.
Glancing towards Chrysanthe who stood with a genuine sweetness and an awkward facial expression, Persephone smiled with encouragement to her. With a soft gesture of her palm waving slowly down before her own face - an encouragement to remind Chrysanthe to appear calm and graceful - and then the same hand moving to parallel to the floor and push down - a strong indication for Chrysanthe to sit, Persephone then made sure to keep eye contact with the young woman when she herself straightened her spine and realigned her posture.
Whilst the two of them had spoken a lot on the boat from Taengea and discussed the duties of a lady’s maid - not to mention the appearance and behaviour of one - Persephone understood strongly that there was a different between theory and practice. And that the young Chrysanthe would need a lot of steady encouragement and patience before she was even close to the level of Iris's maid Acantha.
Her silent little instructions to the young woman were subtle and polite, but they were also distracting to herself, for Persephone didn't notice Iason's deference to placing his own towel as a second layer around her shoulders.
Persephone turned, her lips parting to argue that he himself should also be warm, but the look he sent her surreptitiously from her shoulder had her snapping her mouth shut and taking the care without complaint.
When the Lady Iris offered drinks to her guests, Persephone glanced towards Chrysanthe again, this time offering her something she could distract herself with.
"Chrysanthe... perhaps you could fetch Iason and myself a cup of wine each?" She suggested in a soft tone of instruction. That way, Iris would be able to stop playing hostess when it was the middle of the night and she was clearly exhausted. Regardless of their own fatigue, they were the guests and needed to not impose so strongly upon the home of those they were turning to for help.
Aimias spoke next to assure Persephone that Emilia was well and alive. Her eyes shone with a gratitude so intense it seemed to light up the room, his words not yet asked for but his knowledge of her as a person recognising that it was the first thing she wanted to know. The information regarding Elias she could care less for at this time, but Emilia.... Emilia, she longed to see and hold so desperately it felt like a physical pain. Now that she was in Athenia and so close, that pain seemed to grow worse.
Before she could respond, however, the Lady Iris instructed that clothing be fetched for herself, her betrothed and the attendees she travelled with. Her words commented on an illness for the little Phillipa and Persephone was immediately concerned and contrite.
Not only had they disturbed her friends and their family in the dead of night... it had been an inappropriate time in their child's health also!
The look upon Persephone's face was one of worried apology as she opened her mouth to put such an expression into words, but there was a soft wave of hands and general disregard for any apology she had to make on the topic. Her mind not entirely quietened on the subject - for she would insist on finding out the status of Aimias' daughter later. Now was not the time, regardless of the importance of the topic.
Despite the fact that she had spent near the entire voyage trying to construct the words she would need to seek out Emilia and ask for help from her friends in carrying out a plan of rescue, of checking with Aimias if Emilia would even wish to leave Athenia and her birth right behind... in this moment, when it was needed, she couldn't seem to find the words.
She had no idea what Iris and Aimias were expecting of her and what her return would mean to them. And the last thing she wanted to do was harm or injure her friends.
Iason, however, beat her to it. His protective nature and determination (that she was fully aware of) to have her back in Taengea as quickly as possible, saw his tongue speeding the process along. His words made it clear that they were here on a temporary measure - to take Emilia and disappear once more...
"Iason..." The single word was soft and compassionate and Persephone reached out to brush her fingertips against his arm in a gesture that implied thanks but also moderation. She moved her focus to look to Iris and Aimias.
"I received your code..." She said, as a beginning, her smile this time for her counsel, her eyes bright with the nostalgia they both shared. Then her smile slipped and her expression turned serious. Her words came out factual, determined not to be lost in impractical emotion. "From my experience on the night I left, I believed Emilia to have been lost. Please trust that nothing would have prevented me from leaving Athenian soil if I thought her to have been alive." Her eyes brightened further with a sheen of unshed tears but she kept them back and maintained her serenity. "Your letter was the first I heard of her surviving and I received it ten days ago." With a week's travel time and day to ride from the coast to Aetaea, that would tell them exactly how quickly she had boarded a ship upon learning of her sister being alive.
"I'm here to ensure she is alright. To give her whatever support she needs in... whatever path she wants to take. Whether that be here or in Taengea." As she had spoken with Iason, if Emilia wished to stay in Athenia, she would see to her sister's comfort and position and safety and then return with her betrothed to their new home - the home she had promised him.
Persephone's expression turned sad as she pulled her towel closer around her shoulders.
"My father's hubris has seen to throw Athenia into turmoil." She concluded. "I do not wish for my own to draw us into a civil war. I shall be here only as long as Emilia needs and then I shall leave Athenia to peace."
As Persephone was encouraged into the den-like room, it became her natural instinct for all focus to fall away from herself and drift to the people around her. Perhaps it could be called a reaction natural to one who was compassionate. Perhaps it was simply a protective-instinct for her own emotions; in times when she was particularly tense or feeling a high level of emotive connection, it was an easier option to focus on others and distract herself with their needs and wishes.
As she was led down the corridor and towards the main den, she offered a very small and soft smile towards Chrysanthe who appeared wide-eyed and clearly nervous at her new environment, whilst she reached out to take the hand of Iason, who shadowed her as both shield and support.
In that moment, her fingers gently interlocked with her future husband, her closest friends around her and new acquaintances she was rapidly growing to like loyal to her personage, Persephone felt for a moment like she was buoyant. Lifted on the love and support of others.
The den that they were led to was warm and cosy - a thankful change to the wet and rain of their sea voyage and ride to the Argyris manor. It was decorated in warm browns and reds, whilst the fabrics were a complimentary mix of maroon and blues. The seats were constructed with plush padding and the fire in the hearth raged with a welcome anger.
Persephone said little as she was settled and sorted by those she cared for.
Almost immediately, upon entering the room, Iason was directing her to an appropriate seat where she could take the weight from her weary horse-riding legs, and she offered him a smile of thanks. The man who had taken the greatest of care of her since they had met had appeared to turn up the level of perceptive protectiveness since they had become lovers. Unsure whether this was a by-product of sharing a bed with the man, or if it had been his concerns for her apparent pregnancy during the journey that had set him on a path of such tenderness, Persephone did not know. But she was thankful for it, regardless. Whilst she did not believe herself to be with child, she would not take unnecessary risks that would make him uneasy.
And catching her death through cold would hardly be considered unrisky.
As such, she was happy to reach up and remove the sodden cloak that lay around her shoulders and, instead, thank the Lady Iris for the towelling cloth she offered in exchange. The cloak was spirited away by the young Acantha, who was clearly an experienced lady’s maid and completed her duties as if psychic with her mistress, and the towel secured around her shoulders.
Glancing towards Chrysanthe who stood with a genuine sweetness and an awkward facial expression, Persephone smiled with encouragement to her. With a soft gesture of her palm waving slowly down before her own face - an encouragement to remind Chrysanthe to appear calm and graceful - and then the same hand moving to parallel to the floor and push down - a strong indication for Chrysanthe to sit, Persephone then made sure to keep eye contact with the young woman when she herself straightened her spine and realigned her posture.
Whilst the two of them had spoken a lot on the boat from Taengea and discussed the duties of a lady’s maid - not to mention the appearance and behaviour of one - Persephone understood strongly that there was a different between theory and practice. And that the young Chrysanthe would need a lot of steady encouragement and patience before she was even close to the level of Iris's maid Acantha.
Her silent little instructions to the young woman were subtle and polite, but they were also distracting to herself, for Persephone didn't notice Iason's deference to placing his own towel as a second layer around her shoulders.
Persephone turned, her lips parting to argue that he himself should also be warm, but the look he sent her surreptitiously from her shoulder had her snapping her mouth shut and taking the care without complaint.
When the Lady Iris offered drinks to her guests, Persephone glanced towards Chrysanthe again, this time offering her something she could distract herself with.
"Chrysanthe... perhaps you could fetch Iason and myself a cup of wine each?" She suggested in a soft tone of instruction. That way, Iris would be able to stop playing hostess when it was the middle of the night and she was clearly exhausted. Regardless of their own fatigue, they were the guests and needed to not impose so strongly upon the home of those they were turning to for help.
Aimias spoke next to assure Persephone that Emilia was well and alive. Her eyes shone with a gratitude so intense it seemed to light up the room, his words not yet asked for but his knowledge of her as a person recognising that it was the first thing she wanted to know. The information regarding Elias she could care less for at this time, but Emilia.... Emilia, she longed to see and hold so desperately it felt like a physical pain. Now that she was in Athenia and so close, that pain seemed to grow worse.
Before she could respond, however, the Lady Iris instructed that clothing be fetched for herself, her betrothed and the attendees she travelled with. Her words commented on an illness for the little Phillipa and Persephone was immediately concerned and contrite.
Not only had they disturbed her friends and their family in the dead of night... it had been an inappropriate time in their child's health also!
The look upon Persephone's face was one of worried apology as she opened her mouth to put such an expression into words, but there was a soft wave of hands and general disregard for any apology she had to make on the topic. Her mind not entirely quietened on the subject - for she would insist on finding out the status of Aimias' daughter later. Now was not the time, regardless of the importance of the topic.
Despite the fact that she had spent near the entire voyage trying to construct the words she would need to seek out Emilia and ask for help from her friends in carrying out a plan of rescue, of checking with Aimias if Emilia would even wish to leave Athenia and her birth right behind... in this moment, when it was needed, she couldn't seem to find the words.
She had no idea what Iris and Aimias were expecting of her and what her return would mean to them. And the last thing she wanted to do was harm or injure her friends.
Iason, however, beat her to it. His protective nature and determination (that she was fully aware of) to have her back in Taengea as quickly as possible, saw his tongue speeding the process along. His words made it clear that they were here on a temporary measure - to take Emilia and disappear once more...
"Iason..." The single word was soft and compassionate and Persephone reached out to brush her fingertips against his arm in a gesture that implied thanks but also moderation. She moved her focus to look to Iris and Aimias.
"I received your code..." She said, as a beginning, her smile this time for her counsel, her eyes bright with the nostalgia they both shared. Then her smile slipped and her expression turned serious. Her words came out factual, determined not to be lost in impractical emotion. "From my experience on the night I left, I believed Emilia to have been lost. Please trust that nothing would have prevented me from leaving Athenian soil if I thought her to have been alive." Her eyes brightened further with a sheen of unshed tears but she kept them back and maintained her serenity. "Your letter was the first I heard of her surviving and I received it ten days ago." With a week's travel time and day to ride from the coast to Aetaea, that would tell them exactly how quickly she had boarded a ship upon learning of her sister being alive.
"I'm here to ensure she is alright. To give her whatever support she needs in... whatever path she wants to take. Whether that be here or in Taengea." As she had spoken with Iason, if Emilia wished to stay in Athenia, she would see to her sister's comfort and position and safety and then return with her betrothed to their new home - the home she had promised him.
Persephone's expression turned sad as she pulled her towel closer around her shoulders.
"My father's hubris has seen to throw Athenia into turmoil." She concluded. "I do not wish for my own to draw us into a civil war. I shall be here only as long as Emilia needs and then I shall leave Athenia to peace."
If anything held true about the advisor, it was that social cues and affection actions were often missed by him. He was not a man who did will in court, where subtle gestures were just as important as the words spoken. He let others be the masters of that, taking it upon himself to use knowledge as his weapon. The argument with his own wife had been an example of how poorly he understood what people didn’t say.
Still, watching Persephone and Iason together now was enough for him to realize that while the two had been betrothed to wed, they were far more bonded now than they had been when they escaped. He watched the protective way Iason stood at her guard, grateful that at least one of the men in her life was able to offer physical protection. And the appreciation was not missed by Persephone, who offered the simplest touch to convey her thoughts.
If only he’d been able to do the same with his wife.
He listened as his wife made comment of his daughter, warmed of her concern. There was little he could say on the matter, unable to ignore the look on Persephone’s face. He would address it later, knowing that the little girl would be far too excited to see the familiar face of an old friend to care about her health. Aimias reached out for the hand of his wife, beckoning her to the seat next to him. He could see that she was frustrated, and exhausted. And while they had yet to speak of their argument, Aimias wanted her at his side.
He waited until she was seated next to him to lace his fingers through hers, visibly relaxed in the presence of friends, for the first time in weeks. Aimias didn’t think of Elias or the threats that were looming in his mind. He didn’t think of his own conversations with men of the senate, urging them to support Elias even against his own words. There was no thought of the reputation he was tearing apart at the seams. His only concern was for those seated with him.
Aimias’s other hand covered Iris’s, but his eyes were on Persephone. ”I told Emilia just that. And while we all were unsure of your safety, it will ease her heart greatly to know that.” Pulling his top hand from Iris’s, but still keeping their fingers laced, he reached forward to put a hand on Persephone’s as she pulled the material closer. ”You were right to run, my Queen. You both would have been killed if they had the chance.”
He gave her a smile, ”While I understand your desire to bring her to safety, I do wish you would have sent word of your own condition first. We could have come up with a better plan than meeting at our residence in the middle of a storm.” He knew that he should hold his tongue. Elias would be more than pleased with the thought that she wanted to run. He would get what he wanted. And yet, the people were suffering and Persephone was clueless to what had happened after she left.
Was it his place to tell her?
But what worried him more what being honest with his queen in front of his wife. For there was much he hadn’t told her, and more she wasn’t even aware was going on. She didn’t realize that he was playing right along side Elias, trying to build doubt within the Xanthos line while reassuring those of Elias and his ability. She would never forgive him, once she knew. And he wasn’t ready to completely lose her trust.
Aimias knew his face must've dropped a bit, but he shook his head, ”My Queen, Elias has decided to keep the senate closed. They have not met since your disappearance, and he does not seem in much of a hurry to open it back. Nor does he allow Emilia to do so. There is much unrest within the Kingdom.” He started to describe everything that had happened since absence, leaving out the conversation he had with Aimias until they could be alone. He owed her an explanation first, and it would be a conversation they had in private.
Once he finished, his hand her Iris’s was damp with sweat. ”I am not sure what Emilia will do with you back, but I would be more concerned about what Elias thinks he can do with her. He is not afraid to make his hold on her known. And with her as the heir apparent, he will be very reluctant to let her go.” They deserved to know the truth, as much as he was willing to share around his wife, anyway.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
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If anything held true about the advisor, it was that social cues and affection actions were often missed by him. He was not a man who did will in court, where subtle gestures were just as important as the words spoken. He let others be the masters of that, taking it upon himself to use knowledge as his weapon. The argument with his own wife had been an example of how poorly he understood what people didn’t say.
Still, watching Persephone and Iason together now was enough for him to realize that while the two had been betrothed to wed, they were far more bonded now than they had been when they escaped. He watched the protective way Iason stood at her guard, grateful that at least one of the men in her life was able to offer physical protection. And the appreciation was not missed by Persephone, who offered the simplest touch to convey her thoughts.
If only he’d been able to do the same with his wife.
He listened as his wife made comment of his daughter, warmed of her concern. There was little he could say on the matter, unable to ignore the look on Persephone’s face. He would address it later, knowing that the little girl would be far too excited to see the familiar face of an old friend to care about her health. Aimias reached out for the hand of his wife, beckoning her to the seat next to him. He could see that she was frustrated, and exhausted. And while they had yet to speak of their argument, Aimias wanted her at his side.
He waited until she was seated next to him to lace his fingers through hers, visibly relaxed in the presence of friends, for the first time in weeks. Aimias didn’t think of Elias or the threats that were looming in his mind. He didn’t think of his own conversations with men of the senate, urging them to support Elias even against his own words. There was no thought of the reputation he was tearing apart at the seams. His only concern was for those seated with him.
Aimias’s other hand covered Iris’s, but his eyes were on Persephone. ”I told Emilia just that. And while we all were unsure of your safety, it will ease her heart greatly to know that.” Pulling his top hand from Iris’s, but still keeping their fingers laced, he reached forward to put a hand on Persephone’s as she pulled the material closer. ”You were right to run, my Queen. You both would have been killed if they had the chance.”
He gave her a smile, ”While I understand your desire to bring her to safety, I do wish you would have sent word of your own condition first. We could have come up with a better plan than meeting at our residence in the middle of a storm.” He knew that he should hold his tongue. Elias would be more than pleased with the thought that she wanted to run. He would get what he wanted. And yet, the people were suffering and Persephone was clueless to what had happened after she left.
Was it his place to tell her?
But what worried him more what being honest with his queen in front of his wife. For there was much he hadn’t told her, and more she wasn’t even aware was going on. She didn’t realize that he was playing right along side Elias, trying to build doubt within the Xanthos line while reassuring those of Elias and his ability. She would never forgive him, once she knew. And he wasn’t ready to completely lose her trust.
Aimias knew his face must've dropped a bit, but he shook his head, ”My Queen, Elias has decided to keep the senate closed. They have not met since your disappearance, and he does not seem in much of a hurry to open it back. Nor does he allow Emilia to do so. There is much unrest within the Kingdom.” He started to describe everything that had happened since absence, leaving out the conversation he had with Aimias until they could be alone. He owed her an explanation first, and it would be a conversation they had in private.
Once he finished, his hand her Iris’s was damp with sweat. ”I am not sure what Emilia will do with you back, but I would be more concerned about what Elias thinks he can do with her. He is not afraid to make his hold on her known. And with her as the heir apparent, he will be very reluctant to let her go.” They deserved to know the truth, as much as he was willing to share around his wife, anyway.
If anything held true about the advisor, it was that social cues and affection actions were often missed by him. He was not a man who did will in court, where subtle gestures were just as important as the words spoken. He let others be the masters of that, taking it upon himself to use knowledge as his weapon. The argument with his own wife had been an example of how poorly he understood what people didn’t say.
Still, watching Persephone and Iason together now was enough for him to realize that while the two had been betrothed to wed, they were far more bonded now than they had been when they escaped. He watched the protective way Iason stood at her guard, grateful that at least one of the men in her life was able to offer physical protection. And the appreciation was not missed by Persephone, who offered the simplest touch to convey her thoughts.
If only he’d been able to do the same with his wife.
He listened as his wife made comment of his daughter, warmed of her concern. There was little he could say on the matter, unable to ignore the look on Persephone’s face. He would address it later, knowing that the little girl would be far too excited to see the familiar face of an old friend to care about her health. Aimias reached out for the hand of his wife, beckoning her to the seat next to him. He could see that she was frustrated, and exhausted. And while they had yet to speak of their argument, Aimias wanted her at his side.
He waited until she was seated next to him to lace his fingers through hers, visibly relaxed in the presence of friends, for the first time in weeks. Aimias didn’t think of Elias or the threats that were looming in his mind. He didn’t think of his own conversations with men of the senate, urging them to support Elias even against his own words. There was no thought of the reputation he was tearing apart at the seams. His only concern was for those seated with him.
Aimias’s other hand covered Iris’s, but his eyes were on Persephone. ”I told Emilia just that. And while we all were unsure of your safety, it will ease her heart greatly to know that.” Pulling his top hand from Iris’s, but still keeping their fingers laced, he reached forward to put a hand on Persephone’s as she pulled the material closer. ”You were right to run, my Queen. You both would have been killed if they had the chance.”
He gave her a smile, ”While I understand your desire to bring her to safety, I do wish you would have sent word of your own condition first. We could have come up with a better plan than meeting at our residence in the middle of a storm.” He knew that he should hold his tongue. Elias would be more than pleased with the thought that she wanted to run. He would get what he wanted. And yet, the people were suffering and Persephone was clueless to what had happened after she left.
Was it his place to tell her?
But what worried him more what being honest with his queen in front of his wife. For there was much he hadn’t told her, and more she wasn’t even aware was going on. She didn’t realize that he was playing right along side Elias, trying to build doubt within the Xanthos line while reassuring those of Elias and his ability. She would never forgive him, once she knew. And he wasn’t ready to completely lose her trust.
Aimias knew his face must've dropped a bit, but he shook his head, ”My Queen, Elias has decided to keep the senate closed. They have not met since your disappearance, and he does not seem in much of a hurry to open it back. Nor does he allow Emilia to do so. There is much unrest within the Kingdom.” He started to describe everything that had happened since absence, leaving out the conversation he had with Aimias until they could be alone. He owed her an explanation first, and it would be a conversation they had in private.
Once he finished, his hand her Iris’s was damp with sweat. ”I am not sure what Emilia will do with you back, but I would be more concerned about what Elias thinks he can do with her. He is not afraid to make his hold on her known. And with her as the heir apparent, he will be very reluctant to let her go.” They deserved to know the truth, as much as he was willing to share around his wife, anyway.
Had Persephone been in the company of strangers, upon her throne in the Senate or residing over the Court sessions she was so practiced at leading... she would have kept her features hardened. If she had been the woman she was when she had left Athenia; cool and indifferent, she would have maintained her image as a princess and a queen and kept her features closed off, her grace intact and her personal feelings hidden behind features of elegant objectivity.
Instead, she was within a singular room, without windows, where she sat with her future husband, her closest friends and a lady's maid who, whilst knew her employ was to be treated as all lady's maids were - with complete confidence... Instead, she was a newer, bolder, more expressive woman than the one who had left Athenia. A woman who knew how to shoot arrows, how to interact with the world... how to love a man. Her emotions were far more real to her now than they had ever been since before her mother's death and it was harder to summon the crystal mask that she would have used as a shield against the harshities of the world.
As Aimias spoke, detailing how Elias had kept the Senate closed, how crops and taxes had failed to be subsidised and reimbursed leaving market places empty, how a lack of routine and structure and aid relief had seen to riots in the street over water during the heat wave the capitol had suffered... how Athenians rebelled in the streets because trade and resources had stopped approaching the harbour as levies had not been adjusted to meet with competition in other lands...
And how Xanthos, as technically the ruling House was to be blamed for it all...
Persephone felt her stomach twist in horror, bile rising in her throat... felt her insides turn to the coldest of stone and a fist of ice tighten around her heart... Her features seemed to be that of someone struggling to swallow a hot iron, her eyes wide and glistening with shameful tears that she - at the very least - would not permit to fall.
When Aimias had finished... when he made his final warning about how Elias would not let Emilia go easily... how Persephone was still to be in danger if he discovered her to be alive... Persephone closed her eyes, her long and dark lashes sweeping over her cheekbones as her lips pursed in a long and slow exhale.
In a gesture uncommon for the stoic and icy Queen of Athenia, Persephone bent to rest her head in her hand, her palm hard against her brow as if she were to press down upon the mind that had brought her kingdom to this...
"This is all my fault." She stated, in a moment, not of self-deprecation but of sorrowful fact. A responsibility she was taking on as her own with finality. She shook her head against her palm, her shoulders beneath the blankets lifting in a deep breath of resignation as she accepted the blame. "I should have stayed. Hidden somewhere in Athenia and fought back. I should not have run." Her next exhale came from between grit teeth, in a noise that sounded somewhere between a moan and a growl of frustration. She lifted her head, her fingers curling into her palm and the side of her fist now pressed to her lips and she opened her eyes and stared into the air before her, her gaze focused inwards on her thoughts. She shook her head softly. "Elias has always been a man of great ego. But I never suspected him to bring Athenia so close to collapse simply to attain what he wants." Her expression turned angry. "He does not know what it means to be king, yet he wants the crown regardless."
Being a King was to be the support and protection of your people. The exact opposite of what Elias was doing now - destroying his people for the sake of his own greedy ambitions.
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Had Persephone been in the company of strangers, upon her throne in the Senate or residing over the Court sessions she was so practiced at leading... she would have kept her features hardened. If she had been the woman she was when she had left Athenia; cool and indifferent, she would have maintained her image as a princess and a queen and kept her features closed off, her grace intact and her personal feelings hidden behind features of elegant objectivity.
Instead, she was within a singular room, without windows, where she sat with her future husband, her closest friends and a lady's maid who, whilst knew her employ was to be treated as all lady's maids were - with complete confidence... Instead, she was a newer, bolder, more expressive woman than the one who had left Athenia. A woman who knew how to shoot arrows, how to interact with the world... how to love a man. Her emotions were far more real to her now than they had ever been since before her mother's death and it was harder to summon the crystal mask that she would have used as a shield against the harshities of the world.
As Aimias spoke, detailing how Elias had kept the Senate closed, how crops and taxes had failed to be subsidised and reimbursed leaving market places empty, how a lack of routine and structure and aid relief had seen to riots in the street over water during the heat wave the capitol had suffered... how Athenians rebelled in the streets because trade and resources had stopped approaching the harbour as levies had not been adjusted to meet with competition in other lands...
And how Xanthos, as technically the ruling House was to be blamed for it all...
Persephone felt her stomach twist in horror, bile rising in her throat... felt her insides turn to the coldest of stone and a fist of ice tighten around her heart... Her features seemed to be that of someone struggling to swallow a hot iron, her eyes wide and glistening with shameful tears that she - at the very least - would not permit to fall.
When Aimias had finished... when he made his final warning about how Elias would not let Emilia go easily... how Persephone was still to be in danger if he discovered her to be alive... Persephone closed her eyes, her long and dark lashes sweeping over her cheekbones as her lips pursed in a long and slow exhale.
In a gesture uncommon for the stoic and icy Queen of Athenia, Persephone bent to rest her head in her hand, her palm hard against her brow as if she were to press down upon the mind that had brought her kingdom to this...
"This is all my fault." She stated, in a moment, not of self-deprecation but of sorrowful fact. A responsibility she was taking on as her own with finality. She shook her head against her palm, her shoulders beneath the blankets lifting in a deep breath of resignation as she accepted the blame. "I should have stayed. Hidden somewhere in Athenia and fought back. I should not have run." Her next exhale came from between grit teeth, in a noise that sounded somewhere between a moan and a growl of frustration. She lifted her head, her fingers curling into her palm and the side of her fist now pressed to her lips and she opened her eyes and stared into the air before her, her gaze focused inwards on her thoughts. She shook her head softly. "Elias has always been a man of great ego. But I never suspected him to bring Athenia so close to collapse simply to attain what he wants." Her expression turned angry. "He does not know what it means to be king, yet he wants the crown regardless."
Being a King was to be the support and protection of your people. The exact opposite of what Elias was doing now - destroying his people for the sake of his own greedy ambitions.
Had Persephone been in the company of strangers, upon her throne in the Senate or residing over the Court sessions she was so practiced at leading... she would have kept her features hardened. If she had been the woman she was when she had left Athenia; cool and indifferent, she would have maintained her image as a princess and a queen and kept her features closed off, her grace intact and her personal feelings hidden behind features of elegant objectivity.
Instead, she was within a singular room, without windows, where she sat with her future husband, her closest friends and a lady's maid who, whilst knew her employ was to be treated as all lady's maids were - with complete confidence... Instead, she was a newer, bolder, more expressive woman than the one who had left Athenia. A woman who knew how to shoot arrows, how to interact with the world... how to love a man. Her emotions were far more real to her now than they had ever been since before her mother's death and it was harder to summon the crystal mask that she would have used as a shield against the harshities of the world.
As Aimias spoke, detailing how Elias had kept the Senate closed, how crops and taxes had failed to be subsidised and reimbursed leaving market places empty, how a lack of routine and structure and aid relief had seen to riots in the street over water during the heat wave the capitol had suffered... how Athenians rebelled in the streets because trade and resources had stopped approaching the harbour as levies had not been adjusted to meet with competition in other lands...
And how Xanthos, as technically the ruling House was to be blamed for it all...
Persephone felt her stomach twist in horror, bile rising in her throat... felt her insides turn to the coldest of stone and a fist of ice tighten around her heart... Her features seemed to be that of someone struggling to swallow a hot iron, her eyes wide and glistening with shameful tears that she - at the very least - would not permit to fall.
When Aimias had finished... when he made his final warning about how Elias would not let Emilia go easily... how Persephone was still to be in danger if he discovered her to be alive... Persephone closed her eyes, her long and dark lashes sweeping over her cheekbones as her lips pursed in a long and slow exhale.
In a gesture uncommon for the stoic and icy Queen of Athenia, Persephone bent to rest her head in her hand, her palm hard against her brow as if she were to press down upon the mind that had brought her kingdom to this...
"This is all my fault." She stated, in a moment, not of self-deprecation but of sorrowful fact. A responsibility she was taking on as her own with finality. She shook her head against her palm, her shoulders beneath the blankets lifting in a deep breath of resignation as she accepted the blame. "I should have stayed. Hidden somewhere in Athenia and fought back. I should not have run." Her next exhale came from between grit teeth, in a noise that sounded somewhere between a moan and a growl of frustration. She lifted her head, her fingers curling into her palm and the side of her fist now pressed to her lips and she opened her eyes and stared into the air before her, her gaze focused inwards on her thoughts. She shook her head softly. "Elias has always been a man of great ego. But I never suspected him to bring Athenia so close to collapse simply to attain what he wants." Her expression turned angry. "He does not know what it means to be king, yet he wants the crown regardless."
Being a King was to be the support and protection of your people. The exact opposite of what Elias was doing now - destroying his people for the sake of his own greedy ambitions.
Iris was silently struggling with what her purpose was in being here. This was her home. Her province. It belonged to her, by name and law. She was able to open her doors to any that she wished, and she had opened them to the Queen who had run from their shores. If Iris were a different person, she might have found it in herself to blame the princess' absence for everything that had happened thus far. But she was not a cruel woman. She was not a woman who would blame one for the very blatant sins of another.
Settled off to the side, her gaze flicked about, trying to ensure that all of her guests were properly cared for. It was only when she glanced back toward Aimias that she noted the way that he reached his hand out to her. He wanted her to sit beside him. She almost choked on the bitterness that settled in her chest, her gaze flicking away from him. Iris' hesitation was clear. They had not worked out anything that they had come to fight over the last time they had been in each other's company. She still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him having shown up, though she could not very well keep his daughter from him.
Unsure if this was something she wanted to yield to, Iris made the tough decision to approach Aimias, taking his hand, her grip rather loose, and settling down beside him. Having said nothing for quite a while, that lack of speech did not change just because she had taken her rightful place within her own sitting room. Iris chose to listen patiently to Aimias and Persephone speaking, her gaze on the hand that was currently cupped in her husband's.
Normally, such intimate talk of Lord Elias would send Iris in the other direction. She would have escaped by now, but she was aware of the very real danger presented by the man that was now holding the Kingdom hostage. Persephone's words were dispairging toward herself and Iris quickly lifted her gaze to the other woman. Then her gaze flickered to Lord Iason with only a moment of consideration befoer she was opening her mouth to speak.
"If I may, my Queen," Iris said very carefully to start. She seemed to mull over her words for a moment. This was not something that she had ever really admitted to anyone, though their relationship had never really been much of a secret. Did she regret it now? Of course. But the insight into Elias that she held now was something that could be invaluable in this situation. "You did well to run," she started, "But you did even better to come back, even if it was simply to bring Emilia to safety. I... am familiar with Lord Elias," Iris said evenly, starting to pull her hand from her husband's.
"I am sure that you are aware of such a relationship. But I also still feel like I know at least a little of the man that Elias is. I do not think his actions are borne from inability or a lack of intelligence. On the contrary, Elias is exceedingly intelligent. He has his father and his mother at his back, whispering in his ear from both sides. I think his goal has been to discredit Princess Emilia," she murmured, "Everything that has been done has been in the name of Princess Emilia. Aimias and I were driven from the doors of the senate by the guard, who used Emilia's name as the reason that they would have arrested or used force to break up the crowd."
"I fear that if you were to remove Emilia from Athenia now, you would only further the disenchantment of the loyalty toward the Xanthos family. He knows what it means to be king, I'm sure... but he also knows what it is like to play the long game," there was a brief pause, "And I am almost sure that that is his goal in this. Whether it is to draw you back to Athenia to have you executed, or cause continued unrest so that the people will look to someone like him, who could be seen as more capable than Princess Emilia. We all tread on dangerous ground. Some of us are staunch supporters of Xanthos. If we have not been targeted yet, it is only a matter of time before he sets his sights on anyone who might stand against him."
Iris fully removed her hand from Aimias', rubbing her hands on her knees. Her expression was contemplative. "I hate to be the one to beg this of you, Persephone," she said very carefully, "But you cannot just take Emilia and leave. Now that you know what has befallen your Kingdom in your absence, I implore you to stay and stand against him. Else there may be nothing left before long. Each day he holds the Kingdom captive is another day that other Kingdoms could set their sights and ambitions upon us."
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Iris was silently struggling with what her purpose was in being here. This was her home. Her province. It belonged to her, by name and law. She was able to open her doors to any that she wished, and she had opened them to the Queen who had run from their shores. If Iris were a different person, she might have found it in herself to blame the princess' absence for everything that had happened thus far. But she was not a cruel woman. She was not a woman who would blame one for the very blatant sins of another.
Settled off to the side, her gaze flicked about, trying to ensure that all of her guests were properly cared for. It was only when she glanced back toward Aimias that she noted the way that he reached his hand out to her. He wanted her to sit beside him. She almost choked on the bitterness that settled in her chest, her gaze flicking away from him. Iris' hesitation was clear. They had not worked out anything that they had come to fight over the last time they had been in each other's company. She still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him having shown up, though she could not very well keep his daughter from him.
Unsure if this was something she wanted to yield to, Iris made the tough decision to approach Aimias, taking his hand, her grip rather loose, and settling down beside him. Having said nothing for quite a while, that lack of speech did not change just because she had taken her rightful place within her own sitting room. Iris chose to listen patiently to Aimias and Persephone speaking, her gaze on the hand that was currently cupped in her husband's.
Normally, such intimate talk of Lord Elias would send Iris in the other direction. She would have escaped by now, but she was aware of the very real danger presented by the man that was now holding the Kingdom hostage. Persephone's words were dispairging toward herself and Iris quickly lifted her gaze to the other woman. Then her gaze flickered to Lord Iason with only a moment of consideration befoer she was opening her mouth to speak.
"If I may, my Queen," Iris said very carefully to start. She seemed to mull over her words for a moment. This was not something that she had ever really admitted to anyone, though their relationship had never really been much of a secret. Did she regret it now? Of course. But the insight into Elias that she held now was something that could be invaluable in this situation. "You did well to run," she started, "But you did even better to come back, even if it was simply to bring Emilia to safety. I... am familiar with Lord Elias," Iris said evenly, starting to pull her hand from her husband's.
"I am sure that you are aware of such a relationship. But I also still feel like I know at least a little of the man that Elias is. I do not think his actions are borne from inability or a lack of intelligence. On the contrary, Elias is exceedingly intelligent. He has his father and his mother at his back, whispering in his ear from both sides. I think his goal has been to discredit Princess Emilia," she murmured, "Everything that has been done has been in the name of Princess Emilia. Aimias and I were driven from the doors of the senate by the guard, who used Emilia's name as the reason that they would have arrested or used force to break up the crowd."
"I fear that if you were to remove Emilia from Athenia now, you would only further the disenchantment of the loyalty toward the Xanthos family. He knows what it means to be king, I'm sure... but he also knows what it is like to play the long game," there was a brief pause, "And I am almost sure that that is his goal in this. Whether it is to draw you back to Athenia to have you executed, or cause continued unrest so that the people will look to someone like him, who could be seen as more capable than Princess Emilia. We all tread on dangerous ground. Some of us are staunch supporters of Xanthos. If we have not been targeted yet, it is only a matter of time before he sets his sights on anyone who might stand against him."
Iris fully removed her hand from Aimias', rubbing her hands on her knees. Her expression was contemplative. "I hate to be the one to beg this of you, Persephone," she said very carefully, "But you cannot just take Emilia and leave. Now that you know what has befallen your Kingdom in your absence, I implore you to stay and stand against him. Else there may be nothing left before long. Each day he holds the Kingdom captive is another day that other Kingdoms could set their sights and ambitions upon us."
Iris was silently struggling with what her purpose was in being here. This was her home. Her province. It belonged to her, by name and law. She was able to open her doors to any that she wished, and she had opened them to the Queen who had run from their shores. If Iris were a different person, she might have found it in herself to blame the princess' absence for everything that had happened thus far. But she was not a cruel woman. She was not a woman who would blame one for the very blatant sins of another.
Settled off to the side, her gaze flicked about, trying to ensure that all of her guests were properly cared for. It was only when she glanced back toward Aimias that she noted the way that he reached his hand out to her. He wanted her to sit beside him. She almost choked on the bitterness that settled in her chest, her gaze flicking away from him. Iris' hesitation was clear. They had not worked out anything that they had come to fight over the last time they had been in each other's company. She still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him having shown up, though she could not very well keep his daughter from him.
Unsure if this was something she wanted to yield to, Iris made the tough decision to approach Aimias, taking his hand, her grip rather loose, and settling down beside him. Having said nothing for quite a while, that lack of speech did not change just because she had taken her rightful place within her own sitting room. Iris chose to listen patiently to Aimias and Persephone speaking, her gaze on the hand that was currently cupped in her husband's.
Normally, such intimate talk of Lord Elias would send Iris in the other direction. She would have escaped by now, but she was aware of the very real danger presented by the man that was now holding the Kingdom hostage. Persephone's words were dispairging toward herself and Iris quickly lifted her gaze to the other woman. Then her gaze flickered to Lord Iason with only a moment of consideration befoer she was opening her mouth to speak.
"If I may, my Queen," Iris said very carefully to start. She seemed to mull over her words for a moment. This was not something that she had ever really admitted to anyone, though their relationship had never really been much of a secret. Did she regret it now? Of course. But the insight into Elias that she held now was something that could be invaluable in this situation. "You did well to run," she started, "But you did even better to come back, even if it was simply to bring Emilia to safety. I... am familiar with Lord Elias," Iris said evenly, starting to pull her hand from her husband's.
"I am sure that you are aware of such a relationship. But I also still feel like I know at least a little of the man that Elias is. I do not think his actions are borne from inability or a lack of intelligence. On the contrary, Elias is exceedingly intelligent. He has his father and his mother at his back, whispering in his ear from both sides. I think his goal has been to discredit Princess Emilia," she murmured, "Everything that has been done has been in the name of Princess Emilia. Aimias and I were driven from the doors of the senate by the guard, who used Emilia's name as the reason that they would have arrested or used force to break up the crowd."
"I fear that if you were to remove Emilia from Athenia now, you would only further the disenchantment of the loyalty toward the Xanthos family. He knows what it means to be king, I'm sure... but he also knows what it is like to play the long game," there was a brief pause, "And I am almost sure that that is his goal in this. Whether it is to draw you back to Athenia to have you executed, or cause continued unrest so that the people will look to someone like him, who could be seen as more capable than Princess Emilia. We all tread on dangerous ground. Some of us are staunch supporters of Xanthos. If we have not been targeted yet, it is only a matter of time before he sets his sights on anyone who might stand against him."
Iris fully removed her hand from Aimias', rubbing her hands on her knees. Her expression was contemplative. "I hate to be the one to beg this of you, Persephone," she said very carefully, "But you cannot just take Emilia and leave. Now that you know what has befallen your Kingdom in your absence, I implore you to stay and stand against him. Else there may be nothing left before long. Each day he holds the Kingdom captive is another day that other Kingdoms could set their sights and ambitions upon us."
Persephone watched her friend as she came to sat down next to her husband. And as an experienced people reader and identifier of social interaction, she was quick to spot the level of distance now between she and her husband. Whilst one part of her mind was eager to ask, to offer support to either of the two in whatever way they needed in order to weather through whatever difficulties they had, Persephone was also raised to see the bigger picture first. And her fears and concerns as their friend were pushed to the back of her mind where they settled beside her concerns for Aimias' daughter. They were important. But they were not to be spoken of now.
When Iris mentioned a connection to Elias, the way in which she tried to take her hand from Aimias' suggested that he had not known of the history between the two of them prior to now. Or was at least hostile over the revelation he had already gone through. But again, Persephone's training taught her to consider the wider story and significance of what Iris was saying.
Listening carefully, Persephone felt the weight of guilt take hold in the pit of her stomach as the woman detailed the way in which Elias was playing 'the long game', how he was using the despair, torment and suffering of the Athenian people as a means to a very long end, where he would eventually sit upon the throne and wear the crown. She was more than aware that Elias was perfectly able and intelligent enough to pull off such a plan. She just hadn't thought him to be so entirely selfish that he would deliberately cause death and destruction in order to see his plan come to full fruition.
Drawing her lips in together to press into a hard line, her hand coming up to mask her mouth and then reach up into her hair, Persephone was shaking her head slowly by the time Iris finished speaking.
She owed the family of Dimitrou the greatest of debts. She could not abandon her promise to marry their son. And she could not insist that Iason remain with her in Athenia and fight a war for a throne only half the people - if that! - thought her entitled to have...
Her mind sought for an optimistic outcome, turning her gaze upon Iris.
"You say he is fighting a long game. Discrediting Xanthos so that he can then become victor..." She turned her stare towards Aimias. "Perhaps, if Emilia and I remove ourselves, remove Xanthos from the political fray, he would take the opportunity to then play saviour? Reverse the hardship of the people and rule as a good king?" Her tone was hopeful - not because she wanted to believe the best in her cousin - but because she knew that to stand and hold against him would bring about more suffering, more hardship... it would bring about war to the Athenian people upon their own soil.
For so many reasons... that was the last thing she wanted to do - and yet it was what was being asked of her now...
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Persephone watched her friend as she came to sat down next to her husband. And as an experienced people reader and identifier of social interaction, she was quick to spot the level of distance now between she and her husband. Whilst one part of her mind was eager to ask, to offer support to either of the two in whatever way they needed in order to weather through whatever difficulties they had, Persephone was also raised to see the bigger picture first. And her fears and concerns as their friend were pushed to the back of her mind where they settled beside her concerns for Aimias' daughter. They were important. But they were not to be spoken of now.
When Iris mentioned a connection to Elias, the way in which she tried to take her hand from Aimias' suggested that he had not known of the history between the two of them prior to now. Or was at least hostile over the revelation he had already gone through. But again, Persephone's training taught her to consider the wider story and significance of what Iris was saying.
Listening carefully, Persephone felt the weight of guilt take hold in the pit of her stomach as the woman detailed the way in which Elias was playing 'the long game', how he was using the despair, torment and suffering of the Athenian people as a means to a very long end, where he would eventually sit upon the throne and wear the crown. She was more than aware that Elias was perfectly able and intelligent enough to pull off such a plan. She just hadn't thought him to be so entirely selfish that he would deliberately cause death and destruction in order to see his plan come to full fruition.
Drawing her lips in together to press into a hard line, her hand coming up to mask her mouth and then reach up into her hair, Persephone was shaking her head slowly by the time Iris finished speaking.
She owed the family of Dimitrou the greatest of debts. She could not abandon her promise to marry their son. And she could not insist that Iason remain with her in Athenia and fight a war for a throne only half the people - if that! - thought her entitled to have...
Her mind sought for an optimistic outcome, turning her gaze upon Iris.
"You say he is fighting a long game. Discrediting Xanthos so that he can then become victor..." She turned her stare towards Aimias. "Perhaps, if Emilia and I remove ourselves, remove Xanthos from the political fray, he would take the opportunity to then play saviour? Reverse the hardship of the people and rule as a good king?" Her tone was hopeful - not because she wanted to believe the best in her cousin - but because she knew that to stand and hold against him would bring about more suffering, more hardship... it would bring about war to the Athenian people upon their own soil.
For so many reasons... that was the last thing she wanted to do - and yet it was what was being asked of her now...
Persephone watched her friend as she came to sat down next to her husband. And as an experienced people reader and identifier of social interaction, she was quick to spot the level of distance now between she and her husband. Whilst one part of her mind was eager to ask, to offer support to either of the two in whatever way they needed in order to weather through whatever difficulties they had, Persephone was also raised to see the bigger picture first. And her fears and concerns as their friend were pushed to the back of her mind where they settled beside her concerns for Aimias' daughter. They were important. But they were not to be spoken of now.
When Iris mentioned a connection to Elias, the way in which she tried to take her hand from Aimias' suggested that he had not known of the history between the two of them prior to now. Or was at least hostile over the revelation he had already gone through. But again, Persephone's training taught her to consider the wider story and significance of what Iris was saying.
Listening carefully, Persephone felt the weight of guilt take hold in the pit of her stomach as the woman detailed the way in which Elias was playing 'the long game', how he was using the despair, torment and suffering of the Athenian people as a means to a very long end, where he would eventually sit upon the throne and wear the crown. She was more than aware that Elias was perfectly able and intelligent enough to pull off such a plan. She just hadn't thought him to be so entirely selfish that he would deliberately cause death and destruction in order to see his plan come to full fruition.
Drawing her lips in together to press into a hard line, her hand coming up to mask her mouth and then reach up into her hair, Persephone was shaking her head slowly by the time Iris finished speaking.
She owed the family of Dimitrou the greatest of debts. She could not abandon her promise to marry their son. And she could not insist that Iason remain with her in Athenia and fight a war for a throne only half the people - if that! - thought her entitled to have...
Her mind sought for an optimistic outcome, turning her gaze upon Iris.
"You say he is fighting a long game. Discrediting Xanthos so that he can then become victor..." She turned her stare towards Aimias. "Perhaps, if Emilia and I remove ourselves, remove Xanthos from the political fray, he would take the opportunity to then play saviour? Reverse the hardship of the people and rule as a good king?" Her tone was hopeful - not because she wanted to believe the best in her cousin - but because she knew that to stand and hold against him would bring about more suffering, more hardship... it would bring about war to the Athenian people upon their own soil.
For so many reasons... that was the last thing she wanted to do - and yet it was what was being asked of her now...
Iris had firmly placed her hands in her lap, not sure if she was ashamed of what she had just admitted to a room of people she both knew and didn't, or if she felt mildly empowered by it. None of them were blind to Elias and his thirst for power, but Iris imagined few of them had had any sort of meaningful relationship with Elias. Still, she couldn't look Aimias in the eye. She had never broached the subject with her husband, not having found it anywhere near relevant when they had been initially married.
Now, it needed to come to light both for her own conscience and for the fact that she had some small insight into Elias' mind.
Watching Persephone's reaction and then hearing the words that came out of her mouth, Iris felt her heart sink. Her inclination was to be forceful about it, but she knew her friend to speak more to reason than harsheties of someone's thoughts. Whatever was holding her back must have been wildly important to her, otherwise, she may not have hesitated so. She really shouldn't have regardless. There were some things that were far more important than debts and wants. Especially when the woman settled in front of them was the rightful Queen to the throne.
Closing her eyes a moment, Iris straightened a bit as she mulled over her next words. "I hate to be... that person, your highness," Iris started very slowly, "And perhaps you will see me in a different light for what I have to say. But every single family who voted for you to hold the throne is now a target. Those families who served Xanthos closely and with clear bias are now a target. We supported your claim for the throne against all of the men who would have come after your father. I supported your claim. Lord Takis could have rejected my desire to see you where you belonged, but he agreed with me and he stood for you."
"It is not just yourself that has been thrown into the political fray connected to the Xanthos, your highness. And you standing before that court and accepting the weight of a crown you knew would be in contest leaves you dedicated to your position whether you want it or not. To waste King Minas' last wish for you because a far-reaching Stravos lord got too power-hungry and threatened your life, frankly, saddens me. We all stood for you. Aimias stood for you and sentenced Elias with proof. Do you think he will find continued safety in a Kingdom ruled by King Elias of Stravos? Do you think that those who will not stand and support him will not be removed from their homes and titles because they will not agree with his claim?"
Iris rose slowly, falling into a deep bow to the queen as if it could temper the words that she knew would slip from her mouth at any second. Her queen. The one she had implored her father risk everything for in supporting at the Senate. "I encourage you to do only what you feel is right and fair, your highness. But I implore you to also consider the intricacies of what your ascension to heir successive brought to the Kingdom. It is not just you and Emilia, the Xanthos and the common people. It is all of us that stood for you who will have to pick up the pieces when you leave. I do not think it wise to assume that Elias will do the right and good thing when you have abdicated, either. Maybe I'm just a pessimist. Maybe I don't wish to serve a man who could show such cruelty to his peers and his people in order to make a grab for what he wants."
There was another pause and Iris swallowed, breathing in deeply, "I would rather see all of Athenia collapse than to fall to a man who will be more tyrant than benevolent ruler." And Iris would find herself on her knees if begging would convince her queen to stay and stand for the role she had accepted weeks before. Leaving them to fend for themselves against the wolfish, power-hungry Stravos lord was bound to leave Athenia struggling. What Iris wanted least of all was to hear her friend's name smeared in the streets because the people well and truly feared her to have abandoned her Kingdom. Anywhere Persephone went, that sentiment would follow. She would be twisted into a coward, shamed by gossip and the opinions of others. If there was anything worse than watching Athenia fall to Elias, it was watching Persephone fall to the judgement and harsh opinions of the people.
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Iris had firmly placed her hands in her lap, not sure if she was ashamed of what she had just admitted to a room of people she both knew and didn't, or if she felt mildly empowered by it. None of them were blind to Elias and his thirst for power, but Iris imagined few of them had had any sort of meaningful relationship with Elias. Still, she couldn't look Aimias in the eye. She had never broached the subject with her husband, not having found it anywhere near relevant when they had been initially married.
Now, it needed to come to light both for her own conscience and for the fact that she had some small insight into Elias' mind.
Watching Persephone's reaction and then hearing the words that came out of her mouth, Iris felt her heart sink. Her inclination was to be forceful about it, but she knew her friend to speak more to reason than harsheties of someone's thoughts. Whatever was holding her back must have been wildly important to her, otherwise, she may not have hesitated so. She really shouldn't have regardless. There were some things that were far more important than debts and wants. Especially when the woman settled in front of them was the rightful Queen to the throne.
Closing her eyes a moment, Iris straightened a bit as she mulled over her next words. "I hate to be... that person, your highness," Iris started very slowly, "And perhaps you will see me in a different light for what I have to say. But every single family who voted for you to hold the throne is now a target. Those families who served Xanthos closely and with clear bias are now a target. We supported your claim for the throne against all of the men who would have come after your father. I supported your claim. Lord Takis could have rejected my desire to see you where you belonged, but he agreed with me and he stood for you."
"It is not just yourself that has been thrown into the political fray connected to the Xanthos, your highness. And you standing before that court and accepting the weight of a crown you knew would be in contest leaves you dedicated to your position whether you want it or not. To waste King Minas' last wish for you because a far-reaching Stravos lord got too power-hungry and threatened your life, frankly, saddens me. We all stood for you. Aimias stood for you and sentenced Elias with proof. Do you think he will find continued safety in a Kingdom ruled by King Elias of Stravos? Do you think that those who will not stand and support him will not be removed from their homes and titles because they will not agree with his claim?"
Iris rose slowly, falling into a deep bow to the queen as if it could temper the words that she knew would slip from her mouth at any second. Her queen. The one she had implored her father risk everything for in supporting at the Senate. "I encourage you to do only what you feel is right and fair, your highness. But I implore you to also consider the intricacies of what your ascension to heir successive brought to the Kingdom. It is not just you and Emilia, the Xanthos and the common people. It is all of us that stood for you who will have to pick up the pieces when you leave. I do not think it wise to assume that Elias will do the right and good thing when you have abdicated, either. Maybe I'm just a pessimist. Maybe I don't wish to serve a man who could show such cruelty to his peers and his people in order to make a grab for what he wants."
There was another pause and Iris swallowed, breathing in deeply, "I would rather see all of Athenia collapse than to fall to a man who will be more tyrant than benevolent ruler." And Iris would find herself on her knees if begging would convince her queen to stay and stand for the role she had accepted weeks before. Leaving them to fend for themselves against the wolfish, power-hungry Stravos lord was bound to leave Athenia struggling. What Iris wanted least of all was to hear her friend's name smeared in the streets because the people well and truly feared her to have abandoned her Kingdom. Anywhere Persephone went, that sentiment would follow. She would be twisted into a coward, shamed by gossip and the opinions of others. If there was anything worse than watching Athenia fall to Elias, it was watching Persephone fall to the judgement and harsh opinions of the people.
Iris had firmly placed her hands in her lap, not sure if she was ashamed of what she had just admitted to a room of people she both knew and didn't, or if she felt mildly empowered by it. None of them were blind to Elias and his thirst for power, but Iris imagined few of them had had any sort of meaningful relationship with Elias. Still, she couldn't look Aimias in the eye. She had never broached the subject with her husband, not having found it anywhere near relevant when they had been initially married.
Now, it needed to come to light both for her own conscience and for the fact that she had some small insight into Elias' mind.
Watching Persephone's reaction and then hearing the words that came out of her mouth, Iris felt her heart sink. Her inclination was to be forceful about it, but she knew her friend to speak more to reason than harsheties of someone's thoughts. Whatever was holding her back must have been wildly important to her, otherwise, she may not have hesitated so. She really shouldn't have regardless. There were some things that were far more important than debts and wants. Especially when the woman settled in front of them was the rightful Queen to the throne.
Closing her eyes a moment, Iris straightened a bit as she mulled over her next words. "I hate to be... that person, your highness," Iris started very slowly, "And perhaps you will see me in a different light for what I have to say. But every single family who voted for you to hold the throne is now a target. Those families who served Xanthos closely and with clear bias are now a target. We supported your claim for the throne against all of the men who would have come after your father. I supported your claim. Lord Takis could have rejected my desire to see you where you belonged, but he agreed with me and he stood for you."
"It is not just yourself that has been thrown into the political fray connected to the Xanthos, your highness. And you standing before that court and accepting the weight of a crown you knew would be in contest leaves you dedicated to your position whether you want it or not. To waste King Minas' last wish for you because a far-reaching Stravos lord got too power-hungry and threatened your life, frankly, saddens me. We all stood for you. Aimias stood for you and sentenced Elias with proof. Do you think he will find continued safety in a Kingdom ruled by King Elias of Stravos? Do you think that those who will not stand and support him will not be removed from their homes and titles because they will not agree with his claim?"
Iris rose slowly, falling into a deep bow to the queen as if it could temper the words that she knew would slip from her mouth at any second. Her queen. The one she had implored her father risk everything for in supporting at the Senate. "I encourage you to do only what you feel is right and fair, your highness. But I implore you to also consider the intricacies of what your ascension to heir successive brought to the Kingdom. It is not just you and Emilia, the Xanthos and the common people. It is all of us that stood for you who will have to pick up the pieces when you leave. I do not think it wise to assume that Elias will do the right and good thing when you have abdicated, either. Maybe I'm just a pessimist. Maybe I don't wish to serve a man who could show such cruelty to his peers and his people in order to make a grab for what he wants."
There was another pause and Iris swallowed, breathing in deeply, "I would rather see all of Athenia collapse than to fall to a man who will be more tyrant than benevolent ruler." And Iris would find herself on her knees if begging would convince her queen to stay and stand for the role she had accepted weeks before. Leaving them to fend for themselves against the wolfish, power-hungry Stravos lord was bound to leave Athenia struggling. What Iris wanted least of all was to hear her friend's name smeared in the streets because the people well and truly feared her to have abandoned her Kingdom. Anywhere Persephone went, that sentiment would follow. She would be twisted into a coward, shamed by gossip and the opinions of others. If there was anything worse than watching Athenia fall to Elias, it was watching Persephone fall to the judgement and harsh opinions of the people.
He had never been a man who kept secrets from those he cared about. Having spent most of his life preaching the need for transparency within the ruling parties for the better of the people, it felt wrong to be withholding information now. But he also would not air his dirty laundry in front of his Queen. Aimias decided that he would tell Persephone first, then his wife. After all, the sooner that the young Queen knew what she was up against, the better informed she would be with her decisions.
It wasn't out of character for him to sit back and take in the conversation from all sides before adding his own thoughts. Aimias was well known among the senators to save any judgment until he had all the information. And he was a seeker of facts, calling upon all parties to give their side of the story before he voiced his own opinion. Now, he was a man who spread lies. A man who defied his own morals and principles to protect those he loved. And it was crushing his very spirit to do so. But what choice did he have, when Elias made it very clear that he would destroy those he cared about?
Just because he'd be left with little choice didn't mean that they would understand or forgive him.
His wife's plea for Persephone to fight for her throne only made him more certain that she would hate him for what he'd done. And the fact that she pointed out the risk of being on her side from the beginning only made him second guess waiting. He was patient in letting her speak. He didn't wish for the discourse within his house to be public, but he couldn't keep the truth to himself. ”I am afraid Iris is right, my Queen. Elias has already made threats against those who side with you. Our house has not been excluded from that.” His eyes didn't meet his wife’s. ”He has made it known that he would ruin those who continue to stand with you. And that, Persephone, is something the kingdom cannot survive. If half of the Senate back him based on fear, then the people will revolt regardless. Elias will watch the world burn and pick up the leftovers without care for their substance.”
He looked to Iason, ”Are you willing to take on the risk to your people that will come with this? We are already on the brink of civil war-- support from the people of Taengea will go far to win people over. But it will not come without risks.” He wanted to know if he could trust the lord who stood by his Queen. ”Even just taking Emilia back to your home will present a risk.”
He thought of what he had walked in on, hellbent on protecting that girl no matter the cost. ”Elias would give Emilia no choice but to marry him, had I not intervened. He wishes to ruin her as well, limiting her options. He won't let her go without a fight.”
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He had never been a man who kept secrets from those he cared about. Having spent most of his life preaching the need for transparency within the ruling parties for the better of the people, it felt wrong to be withholding information now. But he also would not air his dirty laundry in front of his Queen. Aimias decided that he would tell Persephone first, then his wife. After all, the sooner that the young Queen knew what she was up against, the better informed she would be with her decisions.
It wasn't out of character for him to sit back and take in the conversation from all sides before adding his own thoughts. Aimias was well known among the senators to save any judgment until he had all the information. And he was a seeker of facts, calling upon all parties to give their side of the story before he voiced his own opinion. Now, he was a man who spread lies. A man who defied his own morals and principles to protect those he loved. And it was crushing his very spirit to do so. But what choice did he have, when Elias made it very clear that he would destroy those he cared about?
Just because he'd be left with little choice didn't mean that they would understand or forgive him.
His wife's plea for Persephone to fight for her throne only made him more certain that she would hate him for what he'd done. And the fact that she pointed out the risk of being on her side from the beginning only made him second guess waiting. He was patient in letting her speak. He didn't wish for the discourse within his house to be public, but he couldn't keep the truth to himself. ”I am afraid Iris is right, my Queen. Elias has already made threats against those who side with you. Our house has not been excluded from that.” His eyes didn't meet his wife’s. ”He has made it known that he would ruin those who continue to stand with you. And that, Persephone, is something the kingdom cannot survive. If half of the Senate back him based on fear, then the people will revolt regardless. Elias will watch the world burn and pick up the leftovers without care for their substance.”
He looked to Iason, ”Are you willing to take on the risk to your people that will come with this? We are already on the brink of civil war-- support from the people of Taengea will go far to win people over. But it will not come without risks.” He wanted to know if he could trust the lord who stood by his Queen. ”Even just taking Emilia back to your home will present a risk.”
He thought of what he had walked in on, hellbent on protecting that girl no matter the cost. ”Elias would give Emilia no choice but to marry him, had I not intervened. He wishes to ruin her as well, limiting her options. He won't let her go without a fight.”
He had never been a man who kept secrets from those he cared about. Having spent most of his life preaching the need for transparency within the ruling parties for the better of the people, it felt wrong to be withholding information now. But he also would not air his dirty laundry in front of his Queen. Aimias decided that he would tell Persephone first, then his wife. After all, the sooner that the young Queen knew what she was up against, the better informed she would be with her decisions.
It wasn't out of character for him to sit back and take in the conversation from all sides before adding his own thoughts. Aimias was well known among the senators to save any judgment until he had all the information. And he was a seeker of facts, calling upon all parties to give their side of the story before he voiced his own opinion. Now, he was a man who spread lies. A man who defied his own morals and principles to protect those he loved. And it was crushing his very spirit to do so. But what choice did he have, when Elias made it very clear that he would destroy those he cared about?
Just because he'd be left with little choice didn't mean that they would understand or forgive him.
His wife's plea for Persephone to fight for her throne only made him more certain that she would hate him for what he'd done. And the fact that she pointed out the risk of being on her side from the beginning only made him second guess waiting. He was patient in letting her speak. He didn't wish for the discourse within his house to be public, but he couldn't keep the truth to himself. ”I am afraid Iris is right, my Queen. Elias has already made threats against those who side with you. Our house has not been excluded from that.” His eyes didn't meet his wife’s. ”He has made it known that he would ruin those who continue to stand with you. And that, Persephone, is something the kingdom cannot survive. If half of the Senate back him based on fear, then the people will revolt regardless. Elias will watch the world burn and pick up the leftovers without care for their substance.”
He looked to Iason, ”Are you willing to take on the risk to your people that will come with this? We are already on the brink of civil war-- support from the people of Taengea will go far to win people over. But it will not come without risks.” He wanted to know if he could trust the lord who stood by his Queen. ”Even just taking Emilia back to your home will present a risk.”
He thought of what he had walked in on, hellbent on protecting that girl no matter the cost. ”Elias would give Emilia no choice but to marry him, had I not intervened. He wishes to ruin her as well, limiting her options. He won't let her go without a fight.”