Theo’s eyes snapped opened as Nana brushed her hand over her back. Instead of looking at Emilios, she looked at her younger sister and gave her a reassuring smile. Reaching behind her, she took the girls hand in hers and held it behind Imma’s back as she took Imma’s in her other hand. This is what she needed. Her sisters. Her strength. Her backbone and her courage. When all else went to dust, they remained. Even over all the men that would come in and out of their life, they had something far greater that tied them to each other. A bond that no marriage.. No crown could come between. “Yes, darling Nana. How very right you are.”
She leaned against Imma and rested her head on the girl's shoulder while holding on to Nana. She couldn’t care about who else was there.. The world was far too small right now; to macroscopic that she could only be in the here and now. Because if she extended her thoughts she would have to think about Emilios and Achilleas.
Their box filled in with more relatives; Fotios and Eirini’s arrival with their own girls and the crowds in the upper rings of the arena as well. The dull roar of excitement was loud until horns were blown and everyone settled in their seats to await the arrival of Stephanos and Pia. They were brought out in all their glory and Theo was genuinely happy for her sister. How proud she looked and how noble standing before what were now her people. She could think of no one else better equipped to be queen as a Leventi.. If not for her. Not having been able to witness their wedding, this was almost an amalgamation of such a special occasion and she choked back her emotion as they were laden with jewels and robes.
The crowd went wild in applause with the coronation and the two of them looked quite stoic on their platform. Everybody stood and waited as Stephanos stepped forward to make his announcement and from the center of the arena, a platform had been erected. Theo hadn’t really given it a second thought when they’d arrived; the T shaped planks that had been set up and left in the center of the ring. But as Stephanos spoke, it became apparent as to what they would be used for. Creed captives where walked out to the center and the arena; their faces hidden and the crowds grew silent.
Theo’s face paled. She was aware there would be punishments for those who were caught.. She just hadn’t considered it overly much; having chosen to block the night of the attacks out of her mind. The horrors of what’d happened in the guest house of the Leventi estate still weighed heavily in her dreams and she did her best to block it from her mind. That was relatively easy when they’d returned to Serenn. ...But coming back to Vasilaedon and the guest house?
She could see the skirmish between Emilios and Achilleas in her mind; feel the cold breath of the creed member on the back of her neck and his hand on her mouth. The cut from the blade against her throat had only just healed weeks later. Of all the people who should have wanted justice for their crimes, Theo should have been at the top of the list. But seeing their dark forms brought forth only sent icy chills down her spine again.
Stephanos ordered the executioner to place the noose around their necks and Theo felt sick. But for the sake of her sisters, she held her chin high. Imma gripped her hand and buried her face into her shoulder; unaware of the trembling in Theo’s fingertips. Dark eyes focused on the shapes as the ropes were tied off.. And the arena was eerily quiet. ...Or maybe it wasn’t and she’d just lost the ability to hear; she couldn’t be certain. She had tunnel vision; there was nothing here save them and her and the memories of that night. Of the bodies strewn on the floor; the wine puddling at her feet; soaking into her gown mixed with blood. There was so much blood.
Finally, the platform fell from beneath their feet and the men were dropped into their noose. It was a cowardly ending. Only cowards hung themselves and it was a grave insult to the men. ….In other words, it was the perfect way for them to die; behind their cloaks so no one could see them and without being given the honor of fighting back. Theo watched them hang; watched their bodies convulse for what seemed like forever before finally her knees gave out from under her and she sat own heavily just as everyone cheered their apparent demise; cheered for their new king and queen. And cheered for the fresh start for their kingdom.
As she wandered through the throngs of people, Gianna took in the crowd. Nobles and commoners alike had gathered in the Arcus to celebrate her brother. Coronations were traditionally restricted to noblemen and women, but with the summer’s events, Irakles had convinced Stephanos to open the event to the entire kingdom as a show of strength and unity in trying times. On a somewhat level playing field, it was nearly impossible to tell the classes apart.
The common folk had dug out their finest garments and dusted off what modest display of wealth they owned. She saw delicate chains of gold with small gemstone pendants, a gold or even silver bangle (sometimes two!) adorned many of the wrists she passed, there was even a small handful of women who had drops of gold hanging from their earlobes. With her attention split between taking in the sights and navigating her way to the royal box, Gianna completely missed her sister’s approach and nearly leapt out of her skin as Xene’s arm was hooked with her own.
Gianna whipped her head around only to be greeted by her sister’s gentle smile, a comfort to her now pounding heart. She returned Xene’s smile, taking in the older woman’s crimson and gold chiton. Xene had chosen small pieces of jewelry and her ruby and aquamarine diadem to complement her bold choice of garment. Her lips had been rouged and khol lined her eyes. Gianna quietly nodded her approval, bringing her free hand to rest on the older princess’s arm.
“With someone such as yourself to take direction from, it’s difficult not to look my best.” Gianna offered her sister’s arm a reassuring squeeze as the two girls neared the royal box. “No, unfortunately, I was rushed out of the palace and forced to forgo any searching for him this morning. Elpis tells me I overslept, but the sun barely crested the horizon when she roused me.”
Their mother’s distressed voice directed Gianna’s attention to where Elise clung to Irakles. As the woman explained the source of her upset, the princess’s blood ran cold. She had experienced her brother’s rage and drunken stupor firsthand just the day before. Could he truly have devolved this far in the weeks since Zenon and Zacharias’s deaths? Her heart ached as she realized there was little she could do to help Stephanos, this was a choice he would have to make for himself.
Gianna settled between Elise and Xene, the ceremony a blur as she fixated on the news she had just overheard. The pomp and circumstance was a lovely background for the dark nature of her thoughts. Only the very subject of those thoughts was able to draw her out. His voice was jarring and thick with fully realized power as he condemned the Creed to death. She knew the executions were going to happen, but no amount of emotional preparation could prepare her for the intensity with which Stephanos observed, a look akin to glee sparkling in his eye. It deeply unsettled the youngest Mikaelidas.
The young prince - now king - of Taengea performed the ceremony well. Of that, Fotios was assured. The man looked a little green around the gills to those sitting close enough but to his people he would seem strong.
His words were ornate. His actions dominant. The executions were big and excessive - causing the entire populace to witness his stance against those who had caused terror in his domain. The jewels and robes he and his wife were equipped in where so bright they shone to the very back of the amphitheatre where even the lowers of the low would be able to witness their glory.
Irakles had chosen all of this very well. The new king was grand. Excessive. And oh, so very shiny...
Now the game was handed over to himself and his own plans. Irakles had elevated the new king to his grand role of pomp and circumstance. It had been charged to Fotios to ensure that it was a long tumble down from that perch.
And yet, the man was more concerned with the silkiness of his wife's skin and the way she delicately bit her lip when the executions were finalised. Transferring his hand from her back to the side of her face where he could brush along her cheekbone and then offer the smallest tug to her earlobe, encouraging her to lay her head on his shoulder. He knew that his wife, like himself, had no qualms regarding death. She was no shrinking violet or woman of delicate constitution. But it would only aid in both their images if he was seen to be comforting a lady who was too sensitive to the events of the coronation so far.
To all those around him, Fotios did not give off the air of someone intent on completing nefarious plans. But then, why would he? The few pieces of the chess game that Irakles had granted him had been in place for days, if not weeks. He was a planner and Fotios already had his plan in place for the court session they would all be expected to attend after Stephanos had finished his preening...
Olympia kept her gaze up and strong, eyes focused above the bar from which the Creed members would soon hang, trying her best to make it appear that she was watching with the strength she imagined a queen might have. It was far easier than she had anticipated, though her knuckles were still white on the throne, she kept her expression one of cool stoicism to match the somewhat unseemly glee in her husband's eye. She hated the cultists as much as the rest of Taengea, but they were only doing what was right, this was not meant to be a sport to be laughed at, it was justice being dispensed.
Only when the stools had been kicked out from under all of the traitors and the sounds from the crowd quieted a bit did she finally look, most of them were swaying in the stillness of death but one still struggled slightly on the end. A sharp kick startled her and she wasn't sure if it was an internal reaction that had triggered the babe, or if it had simply like its father taken joy in the sight of death. Her hand had moved instinctively to cover her stomach as the baby shifted once more before finally calming.
She turned to face her husband again finally as he touched her arm, forcing her lips into a slight smile as she nodded in response. There was no chance to show weakness here, not when all eyes were on them. With a deep breath in, she allowed it to exit slowly as she placed one of her own hands over his and gave it a squeeze, the picture perfect gestures of a close couple for the masses observing them. They had to appear strong, especially now.
"No. You frightened me earlier. The sooner we're out of here and back in the palace the better."
When the time finally came for them to make their exit, she smiled widely and gave a general wave to the crowd as Elise had taken time to ensure she had perfectly. As much as the queen mother got rather in the way of some things, the older woman had a good deal of wisdom and experience, and was well loved in the kingdom. Better to take what she could and make it her own in this uncertain time. Until she had a son her place would never be truly secure.
Irakles looked relaxed in his seated posture. Knees apart with his elbows on the armrests of the high backed gilded chair he sat on, his right hand ws curled in a knuckle, positioned under his chin so Irakles could rest upon it whilst watching the proceedings. Next to him, the Queen Mother sat tense and in an upright posture. One glance from Irakles was enough for the prince to tell tat Elise was obviously still nervous in light of what had happened in the morning, from the way she fidgeted in her seat, her knuckles white with tension.
Reaching over, Irakles grasped her fidgeting fingers in his own scarred, war-blemished ones, giving it a tight squeeze followed by a reassuring smile when she nervously looked at her brother in law.
By the time both royals had turned back, Irakles replacing his arms back on the armrests of the chair, the entrance procession had begun. True enough, he had set up his nephew to enter with as much pomp and extravagance as he could manage, regal as one could muster when the coronation was set up to be held in the arcus. Extra costs had been incurred to hire guards for the transferring of the crown jewels, the gilded throne upon which the new king and his wife would sit on, as well as the extra trappings that would make the whole affair as grand as possible.
He had spared no expense.
Watching the happenings with a close eye as the priest recited his blessings, performed the ritual and then bestowed upon Olympia and Stephanos the crown jewels that now rightly belonged to them, before handing the new King his new sceptre, Irakles smiled. To anyone else looking, he would merely look like a proud uncle.
Let them think what they wanted.
As Stephanos's speech led to an end, Irakles turned to meet Ujarak's eye, and gave his assistant and scribe an imperceptive nod, a simple signal that his smart assistant jumped on to proceed to the next event on the schedule. Under his strict orders, a makeshift dais had been cosntructed out of wood, where six hooded and masked Creed members hung, guarded closely by the Taengean guard. Standing side by side balanced precariously on stools, each Creed member had a loose noose around his or her neck. One could feel a subtle chill pass by the arcus as te creak of the wheels brought them in, obvious that the remnants of what had happened before still lingered in everyone's memories.
Careful to not tip the precariously balanced convincts as the dais was wheeled in, it only took one signal from the newly coronated King, for the guards to kick out the stools that were the only thing saving the Creed from certain death.
They struggled, silently but clearly as the noose tightened around their air passage. Silence fell around the arcus. If one looked closed enough, one could almost feel the tightening of the thick rope around one's throat, the desperate need for their lungs to draw in one, just one breathe, yet failing to do so. Their feet swung, cloaked hands clawing at their throats in a basal, human need.
And then... still.
The crowd erupted again, once the movement had halted. It was obvious that the people of Taengea, try as they may, had still been moving under a grim fog that had stayed as long as the dead bodies of the Creed swayed eerily atop the Taengean markets. The hanging had signified the end of an era, as the Taengean's would place their trust on the new monarchy. Irakles would be damned if he allowed them to remain content with the half-assed attempts Stephanos had at trying to be King. Pretty words, regal clothing and the fact that he was the second son to his brother could only carry him so far. It was ingenuity, wit and mental strength that would carry one the furthest in such a position of power. Things that his weak nephew sadly did not posess. But worry naught. He had it all well in hand.
The platform was quickly wheeled away, as Irakles had instructed. He had also given strict instructions on the manner of which the bodies were to be disposed of - burnt to a crisp with fire, so they could not be traced back to the living. So flesh would not betray him and bones would never tell the truth. Because all it took was one mistake, and Irakles was unwilling to make a single mistake at this stage of is plans.
His eyes followed Ujarak's trajectory from where he now instructed the dais of dead, swaying Creed tobe brought away, only to be met by his nephew's gaze. Separated by distance they may be, Irakles could see the message his nephew had behind the smile. In return, the old general merely raised a brow, and dipped a head in return, his smile hidden behind his hands. He could see it, see exactly what he was driving Stephanos to do. The way his nephew now obsessively worked at the tasklist a King would go through every day, yet refused his help at every juncture. It was almost as if he was just outright and blatantly being a brat to his uncle. And it did not help his case that he now looked as if he was obsessed with proving an innocent man guilty, especially when he observed the deaths of the Creed in such an intense manner.
It was a horrible image to present to the senate and advisors who had long seen Irakles being a worthy, key person in helping to bring Taengea to the glory the kingdom sees today, wasn't it? And it was exactly what the elder prince had been counting on... Stephanos played right into his palms.
When he had been younger, his father had brought him to see the city of Vasiliadon, where a procession had been going through in celebration of a noble born lady's wedding. It was that day that Irakles had decided that the glory that was Vasiliadon, the beauty that was Taengea... he would ensure that none of that would ever be chipped away, and that he would see to it his home kingdom would be given the honor it deserves.
To have it chipped away, given away left and right like pieces of a puzzle... calling him frustrated would be an understatement. The plans he had made? He would see them through, by hook or by crook, even if he had to end up in Tartarus, Irakles would see his wishes come true. And Stephanos was the last piece standing in his way. Fotios had warned him before - to rid them of Stephanos so quick would be to draw attention to himself, which would be counterproductive to their plans. To do this, he had to play the long game. Patience. He'll be the savior of his broken kingdom, of his beaten comrades, of the ones who had shared his dreams of a greater Taengea, and was simply damned by everyone else.
Irakles will get there. Or he'll die trying.
Almost as if dismissing Stephanos, Irakles' cocked his head to the side as if mocking his nephew in a way only the new King could tell, before his gaze slid away to inspect the rest of the arcus again. Observing and assessing the remaining of the crowd, Irakles stood up as he watched the King and Queen rise, as if about to make their exit, and immediately the Prince stepped forward, his booming voice enough to draw attention to him, a position obvious soon enough, that Irakles had been groomed since birth to do.
"Court will be in session back at the palace for all royal and noble houses. Please make your way there once you are ready." Standing at the edges of the royal dais where all eyes zeroed in on Irakles, he appeared the perfect image of a groomed and trained royal, a leader in every way and shape, from his posture to his charming smile, down to the very way in which he motioned for Ujarak to step forward, and along with his scribe, dozens of other servants holding boxes upon boxes of small gifts wrapped up in waxed parchment and twine. Everything from small amounts of obols, food, and some of the flowers and decorations which had previously been used to add to the stage was now wrapped up in nice momento's, ready for the general public as a token of the King's appreciation.
"As for now, King Stephanos will be showing his appreciation, with gifts for everyone in Vasiliadon." The loud cheer went up around the arena, as the guards began shuffling and segregating the royals and nobles from the commonfolk, just as Irakles had instructed. The stairs that led up to the royal and noble boxes were kept clear. Instead, the commonfolk were led down a large, common stairwell everyone would use, before they were lined up in an orderly fashion where the King and Queen were, effectively blocking anyone's exit from the royal dais. It was clear from the eager faces of the commonfolk that they were excited. This would be one of the rare few times that they were allowed to be even at such a distance to royalty, and it was much of a treat for them.
Ujarak approached Stephanos with the biggest box of gifts, the rest of which the servants took it upon themselves to begin distrubuting on behalf of the King. There, the scribe bowed respectfully to Stephanos, speaking in his low tone. "Prince Irakles has instructed me that these are for you to distribute, Your Highness. Only upon the completion of this, would you and Queen Olympia proceed to return to the palace." Ujarak held the box up at Stephanos, a sight which Irakles observed with a wry, lopsided smile from his position. The general turned to Elise, smiling at his two nieces as he strode to the Queen Mother and grasped her hands again.
"Do go ahead and return to the palace, my dear. You must be tuckered out. Gianna, Xene, escort your mother back." he addressed the princesses, before turning back to the balcony again, watching the proceedings. Only when Stephanos was done, did Irakles speak once more, tone of finality in his voice.
"King Stephanos thanks everyone for their support and unwavering devotion to the Kingdom of Taengea. Rest assured, we will do our best to ensure that the safety and glory of our beautiful Kingdom is not far away, and neither will the Creed nor anyone else harm our home." his gaze flickered to Stephanos, a grin that hid his smirk as the crowd cheered for Irakles' supportive, gratifying words in the light of such a gruesome hanging of the Creed. "We will stop at nothing to ensure our home, our legacy is secured, so people of Taengea... we ask for nothing more then your support!"
With that last, loud cheer, Irakles bowed respectfully, waving in a practised manner that one could only have mastered after many years of doing the same thing over and over again. Amidst the cheers of the crowd, Irakles turned on his heel as his nephew and his wife started to leave the stadium, and headed to the stairs of the royal box upon ensuring Queen Mother Elise had safely departed with her daughters. He would head for the court session, but for now he had people to see. A few eyes had met his while he closed off the ceremony from where he stood at the balcony - he intended to see the people with whom had summoned him with a nod and a look in their eye. The coronation was merely the first of many wheels he planned to put in motion. As his cohort and friend had taught him, Irakles now played the long game. Despite it taking longer, he knew it was, in the long run, safer and more effective. And to play the long game meant the prince had to lay the seeds.
Nana smiled, proud that Theo also acknowledged the fact that they were sister's to a new Queen. She wondered what it would be like to have a sister who everyone considered to be a Goddess due to her title and duty. The artless woman never would be guessed that it would be Olympia who'd achieve such a status and regards; Growing up, Olympia or Pia appeared to be mild-mannered and full of wits which she hid once she was within the company of adults. Nana would praise Pia in front of their father and mother's associates, yet the third oldest was modest and would politely deny everything that came from a younger Nana's lips. There was a time where Pia explained why she chose a humble manner rather than a boasting one, but the naive Leventi doesn't recall the memory for she has other important matters to dwell on.
Squeezing Theodora's hand, her ears picked up the loud sound of a music which only meant one thing: The King and her sister have arrived! In her mind, Olympia was still the clever and humble woman she had always known and it was difficult to register her as the new Queen of their wonderful Kingdom. Quickly letting go of Theo's hand, she jumped to her feet and begun a careless trek over to the edge of the box without consideration of anyone's exposed toes. "Pia!" She shouted, as her sandal squashed poor Melina's big toe. Once she reached the edge of the box, she leaned over to wave towards the powerful duo. Their presence was shielded by swords and the backs of guards, yet that didn't stop the enthusiastic woman from waving and screaming. "Pia! Over here!" Her shouts were drowned out by the massive cheers and applause of the smallfolk. A tiny glimpse of Olympia's perfected lock sent her into a boastful frenzy. With a small squeal, she turned to a sitting Melina and the other two cousins that barely interacted with the rest of their family. The harsh reality was that the only thing Nana knew about the three women were their names, they seemed to have kept to themselves most of all, assuming that they inherited their father's supposed 'grouch' behavior. True or false, she whirled around and shook the other woman's arm. "I did her hair--!!! Say, you weren't at the get-together, you and your sisters should invite yourselves next time-"
"Nana."
A simple warning from Lady Evelli (who had the best ears in the Kingdom) sent the young woman scrambling back to her seat. The coronation had more cons than pros: The jewels on the platform added an elegant touch to such a dreary area only fitted for political crones and their dull speeches, plus Pia and King Stephanos looked absolutely stunning together as the new King and Queen. The crowns were gorgeous, however she she winced at the thought of the owners who'll develop lifelong creases to their temples. With the King's speech and the horrible sight of watching the Creed members hang (she shrieked and hid her face in her palms, fingers extended far from the ashes on her eyelids), the ceremony was brought to an end and the new rulers took their leave. Neatly-filed nails slowly slid away from terrified brown eyes, before covering again at the sight of the hanging bodies-- only there were none, for they were removed at Prince Irakles behest. The Creed terrorized her sister and killed two monarchs, but death was still frightening to an innocent's eyes all the same.
But at the mention of a Court session, the visibly shaken blonde perked up albeit slightly. "C... Court?" She asked no one in particular, a tinge of hope in her voice. Arriving at court was one of her favorite times of the year, it was where others would hear the latest and gossip... and where she would primp herself in front of a misplaced mirror on a column near the palace garden, feeling the breeze on her attractive face as she paid no mind to the false heresy surrounding the room. Oh who cared for the gifts, she'd rather be at the session with fresh air and a spare mirror provided for her in front of the bench she'd sit on. And now that her sister was the Queen, she could ask her for a longer mirror and a bench encrusted in the finest jewels! Thrilled about the prospect, she bounced a little in the chair while waiting for all of the family to head out together. "Let's go, let's head out!" And with that, she quickly linked her arms around Theo's and Imma's and exited along with them. Once the gifts were received at the front of their carriage, they headed towards the Palati.