There were few events that Agathe of Marikas would rather chew off her own hand than attend and today’s race certainly met the qualifications. Not only would she be forced to rub elbows with the entire population of Athenia with nothing to gain, but she would be doing it outside and completely at Apollo’s mercy. Alas, her father had apparently taken it upon himself to sponsor a sailor, so once more she was being punished and dragged to the harbor.
Her reluctance to even attend the race prolonged her already time-consuming morning ritual. She was slow to rise and disinclined to allow her serving girl to continue dressing her. But, she reminded herself, her father’s patience was almost relentlessly short these days and she would not be able to finish properly dressing alone. As the servant pinned her chiton at the shoulder, Agathe studied the fabric, lightweight and the color of the sea, it almost shimmered in the morning light.
With her hair appropriately piled on the top of her head and her wrists tastefully adorned with her favorite silver bangles, Agathe was ready when a knock on her chamber door summoned her to gather in the foyer with the rest of her family. She moved at a leisurely pace, certainly in no rush to spend the entire day in the company of her family. She was the last Marikas to arrive—other than Rafail of course. The man took longer to get ready than all of the Marikas women combined.
As Agathe took stock of her company, her gaze landed on an unfamiliar face. The admittedly handsome man standing with her family could only be the sailor her father was sponsoring in the race. The man could only be a year or two her junior, Agathe guessed, and he was a good bit taller than her father. The youth caught her staring and, never one to give up an opportunity to network, Agathe offered him a smile, the very one she honed for her courtly targets.
Before she was able to further explore the subtle pink creeping into the young man’s complexion, she was whisked away to a carriage to be transported with her sisters, mother, and Cyrene. Sera’s handmaiden was the first out of the carriage and she quickly disappeared into the throng of people. Agathe was significantly less enthusiastic in her exit. She climbed out of the carriage after her mother, she was the eldest daughter after all, and quickly scanned the crowd for a familiar face and perhaps a reprieve from her family.
Perhaps Thalia had been in the presence of ruffians for too long. Perhaps she was just tired of the charade of it all. She wanted something to eat. Their morning breakfast consisted of some eggs and a bit of fruit, after which she’d trained in the courtyard until she was gasping for breath. Then Dysmas had arrived at Diomede’s residence to pick her up and she’d not had much time in between for anything else what with becoming presentable to society. So she could either wander around in the presence of so many good things to eat and rue the fact that she was a proper lady and apparently proper ladies weren’t allowed to eat, or she could eat something.
Being the practical person she was, she decided to eat. Though as Cyrene looked at her as if she’d seen something foul on the bottom of her shoe and an annoyed expression crossed Dysmas’s face she frowned and pulled off a last piece of meat with her fingertips to savor before handing off what was left to a street urchin that wandered between the people looking for coin and probably picking the occasional pocket. It’d likely be the best meal he had in weeks, lucky little bastard. Rest assured when she arrived home whatever was left in the kitchens wouldn’t be safe from her.
She thought about the times spent on the beach with her rogue band of men as they drank from primitive cups and ate meat straight from the spit. Of the plates laid out grandly in Lukos’s temple; enough food to feed a family and not a chair in sight. How barbaric it truly must have all been. ...But part of her missed it. It was quaint in its own way and the comradery around the fire was far greater than any formal dinner she’d been to in Athenia. Cyrene called her attention back as she mentioned her betrothal; about settling back in as she linked arms with the siblings. Days after she’d helped settled a contract that would decide the fate of Athenia and it’s next monarch. She couldn’t help but smile and look away.. Because the marriage between she and Patros of Antonis was as good as dissolved. A week ago she was marrying a man she had no interest out of a sense of duty; honor-bound by her family and a need to salvage her reputation. A reputation called into question because she was kidnapped, of all things. Had any of them known half of what she’d been through.. What she’d survived and who she’d killed in order to protect her reputation they may not have shoved her into the role of blushing bride so quickly. They may have respected her desire to remain single.. Oh not forever… she supposed someday she might like to get married if the circumstances were right, but at least in a manner more fitting than contracts and negotiations between families. After falling so terribly hard for Lukos it all seemed so… businesslike.
But now that wasn’t a concern, was it? Lukos would become one of the most powerful barons in the kingdom and she would be his wife. “Don’t be silly, Cyrene.. I’m sure you’ll make a better match one day than even Patros of Antonis.”
Dysmas’s response to their cousin was cryptic and didn’t go into detail and Thalia furrowed her brow as Cyrene continued on; mentioning babies. Had she been still eating she most likely would have choked on her meal. Oh, how she thanked the gods for the women on the island and their special teas as she had no intentions of having children anytime soon. She scoffed and began to speak but Princess Emilia called out for the races to begin to the delight of the crowd of onlookers. Now that her interrogation was complete (one she’d had so many times over since returning to Athenia) she was able to focus on the water. On the boats that prepared themselves for the race; tying down rigging and hoisting sails. Their oars rested above the water; prepared to begin their choreographed dance into the waves. In the few months she’d been with the pirates and the weeks on board the ships, she knew what everything was for. She’d just begun getting comfortable with tasks above deck when they’d dropped her off in Athenia and she had the calluses on her hands to prove it still. Even in those short moments waiting for the call of the race, Thalia grew restless standing in one space and began to look around; through the crowd and over the sea of faces. She saw Lukos between two passing people, but he was gone just as quickly. Frowning she looked back to the water. She’d hoped since their arrangement she’d stop seeing him everywhere.. On every face. But apparently, she’d never stop searching for him.
Though he couldn't properly see the princess' blush from where he was, he kept a grin on his face for a moment longer before turning back to his crew. They all took the opportunity to wave back to shore at their families and friends until the words of the Xanthos maiden carried over the waves and the tension settled in. The prize was what they raced for, and as sailors to prove their worth and abilities in the waves.
That many drachma would go a long way in providing him with the chance to buy a ship of his own. It had been his dream since he was a small boy to sail the waves forever, seeing far off lands and exploring everything the world could offer him, and though he had just about enough to purchase the boat itself, the additional winnings from this purse would allow him to pay a small crew and from there it was about finding the product. They could go to the ends of the sea to the farthest country on earth and bring back exotic products that kings and queens would long for, or they could move things about the Aegean and land in every port in Greece. A ship of his own, that was what this day could bring him.
Esdras tensed, watching the dock intently until the doves were released from the sky, shouting orders as the sail was unfurled and the men reached for their oars. They had all been working together for a few months now and they had the timing down between them as Esdras sat to join them and make the boat as aerodynamic and fast as possible. It was a skaffos from a local merchant who they had recently brought back a large shipment for, and in exchange for the glory of a win if they provided it to him he had agreed to divide the purse and put in some of his own coin on top of it.
On the blue waves the boat jumped forward along with the others, and the sailors kept their eyes peeled, aiming for the first marker that would be in the second harbor. The dangers of the sharks and reefs were less on Esdras' mind than perhaps others, he knew how to swim and had been methodically teaching his own crew how to do so. If for whatever reason their boat floundered they would all survive, he wondered how many of the other crews felt as recklessly confident in their abilities.
It was going to be a good day. A marvelous day. Circenia relished races and she enjoyed winning even more. The purse of drachmae was already jingling in her mind as she flit open her eyes for the morning. She was beside herself as she picked out the perfect clothing for the day. Her house colors flowing as she made her way to the carriage that would take them to where it would start and end. Anyone that was anyone was expected to be at the races with opportunities to sit with high ladies. It would be a cesspool of gossip. It had been far too long since she had been in the know with many of the dealings in some of the houses. She didn't like secrets. At least secrets she didn't know about.
The ride was quiet, but that didn't bother her much. After so many years, it was easy to be calm in the hushed ride. There was no one to impress or prove that they were perfectly merry in their own sort of way. There wasn't a need to fill each and every moment with bothersome small talk about the sky or the hills or the people they were passing. Her fingers instead poked at the hair comb and the cords that twirled through the dark waves of her hair. Her chin held tilted to the sky to remind anyone that viewed at her, they were worthless in comparison and should be admiring her.
As they arrived, she caught her husband's gaze with a smirk creased to the left. "Oh, do you like what you see?" She was a bit informal in her speak and a teasing tone. They were in public and she was sure that Kei would be keeping the romantic gestures to a minimum. It didn't mean she couldn't catch him looking her way. A single motion and a strand of hair was put back in place by Keikelius. Circenia took his hand and accepted his help as she poured out of the carriage. Every movement was elegant and like a swan doing its dance on the water flitting and proving to all others that she was Circenia of Stravos. A name no one should ignore.
As if mere muscle memory was in control, her arm was easily slid around her husbands as she allowed him to lead her wherever. There was actually no effort needed to show her allegiance to Kei. Circenia was happy with her marriage, no matter what any of the rumors might say about the Stravos house. Or what it might have started as. She just wanted to win this, win this for her son. Any moment where she would be able to push him forward and make it obvious was a moment she would take advantage of.
"So what are the odds today? Hmm?" Her lips purred together as she looked down at the ships in the harbor. Many, if not all, with sails of colors she could easily recognize. Keikelius was the expert in this situation and if she was about to go make broad statements while the ships were careening over the seas, well she wanted to be right.
Con finished up his setup and looked around, the are was already teeming with excited customers, hopeful contestants and even some nobility. This of course was to be expected. He didn’t know for sure but he suspected that people of importance might even come here to recruit sailors of exemplary skill.
The morning was young and full of life and Constantinos was hopeful he might run into his new friend Dysmas here, but as of yet he had seen no sign of the man. This wasn’t terribly surprising to him either. Dysmas naturally had better things to do than to cohort with some street merchant all morning.
As the smells of sawdust and oils filled the air Con began hawking his wares, careful to draw just the right amount of attention. Too little and he wouldn’t cover even the expenses he incurred traveling to the event, let alone the income of a normal day back home. Too much and he risked standing out in a negative light, much like the merchant next door was doing. He watched with amusement as the neighboring merchant scared customer after customer with his, almost aggressive, selling. Con smiled time and time again as the customers scoffed and instead came to visit a quieter shop, mainly his.
As visitor after visitor approached he always offered his sincere smile and asked what they were looking for, if anything particular. If the customer found what they were looking for he offered his usual: "Pleasure doing business with you, good fortune and kindness on you and your family." If not, he would offer things based on his perception of what the person might be able to afford. Beginning low, and progressing to more expensive wares. Business was good so far.
"Princess Emilia requires particular attention. Though I have already earned myself a kiss from her, thus I doubt she shall be much more trouble," Rafail answered his brother, choosing to ignore the slight mockery in his tone. He could have refuted the comment easily, laughed at the fact that Pavlos was stuck with some near senior woman who couldn't produce an heir while he continued to have whichever women he desired available to him. At least he had a lady to see that day, unlike his brother. Two, if everything went according to plan. That was more women than his brother would ever bed again. "But I shall have guests visiting this evening if you must know."
The disregard for his concerns was disconcerting, and a natural expression of irritation took over his features. Rafail had never understood why Pavlos felt the need to be so dismissive towards his needs. He was a Marikas; he couldn't be treated like some simple commoner! He deserved the absolute best the world had to offer, and that meant not having to sit beside some poor sailor, especially not one who was dripping wet. The request had not merited the response his brother had given. "A hundred drachmae?" he replied, snorting, momentarily avoiding the subject of how much his brother thought he could contribute. "Dear, dear, if we're allowing the peasantry to ride with us for no more than a hundred drachmae then no wonder the Stravos family think themselves better."
Clearly, Pavlos would be no help. That said, Pavlos was never any help.
"Pa-paaa," he called out to their father, rushing after the man and making an effort to look as innocent and inconvenienced as possible. "I can't ride with him on the way home." Rafail cocked his head towards the sailor in question, not bothered by whether or not he was offending the man. He had no reason to trouble himself over the feelings of commoners. "My chiton is new; I can't have it ruined by salt. Besides, I have a princess to seduce so I must look my absolute finest." Panos might have been a distant father for the most part, but he tended to assume a parenting method of giving his youngest children what they willed (Pavlos already too grown and independent to control) which worked out perfectly comfortably for Rafail. After all, he deemed himself the favoured child thanks to his brother’s useless offspring and his sister’s gender, and he certainly excelled at having things his way. ”Perhaps he could ride home with you and Pav - I know my brother was so looking forward to chatting with him, gods only know why - and I shall switch places with Sera and sit with Sofi and the girls.” It seemed a reasonable solution, and certainly not one which had required such whining to procure, though Rafail preferred to ensure a whim’s success by any means necessary.
Once he had come to this agreement with his father, although 'agreement' may have been a strong word for Rafail simply informing the man of what he intended to do, he turned to offer his brother smug smirk, pleased to say that he would neither be walking home nor riding with the sailor on their return journey. "Have fun with your new common friend," he told Pavlos, noting out of the corner of his eye that the sailors were getting ready to set off. It seemed the ideal time to find the princess. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm quite occupied."
Making a gesture of farewell toward both his brother and father, the man strode away from them, directing himself towards where Princess Emilia would be watching the races. He had heard the announcement of the start of the races and seen the release of the doves, though he almost paid it no heed save to notice that the Marikas ship had started well and their sailor was clearly skilled in his profession, as they were moving quickly ahead. It was always important to notice how much better than the Stravos family they were. But his glance towards the boat had only lasted a brief moment as, quite suddenly, he found his way barred and some idiot attempting to inform him that he was not permitted to approach the girl.
"I am a Marikas," he snapped at the man, glaring past him in an attempt to make eye contact with the princess and gain her attention so she might solve this situation. "I am courting her Highness. I will not be barred entry." This was nothing short of an outrage. And, as the man so clearly refused to budge, he was left with no choice, forced to shout out past him like some uneducated fool. "Princess Emilia!"
Keikelius could only look away when his wife taunted him the way she had. It was normal for her to do so. When he was younger, it had irritated him, but now he was used to it. And if she wasn’t goading him with flashy displays or seductive words, he knew he was in for a world of hurt. He’d long stopped feeling as if his wife’s behavior was inappropriate and instead channeled that rush of adrenaline she always sparked in him into their dalliances behind closed doors.
Things had worked out well in that regard.
Holding her arm gently against his own, he reached over and clasped his other hand over hers, using himself to keep her steady on uneven ground. The last thing he wanted was for her to twist her ankle on a rock or slip in a patch of wet mud. Pausing to let their sailor prepare, Keikelius turned his gaze to his wife, seeming to contemplate his words carefully.
“I’d say low,” he murmured lightly, giving a slight shrug, “There are a number of fine sailors and groups slated to be on the waters today. I’d say that today is anyone’s game,” he continued. “For all intents and purposes, we only entered to save face,” his voice was low as to keep his conversation between him and his wife. “One hundred drachma is little more than a pittance of a reward. The bigger reward is the presence we show,” he murmured. There was the slightest of tugs against her arm as he pressed her firmly against her side.
One of the very few signs of affection and protectiveness that the man ever showed in public. In truth, her warmth on his hip made it slightly easier to concentrate on the day’s events. His wife was a great listener, and he would depend on her the entire day in order to relay information for him. It was an easy trade-off. He funded her lavish lifestyle and gowns that made his heart stop, and she gave him all of the information he could want about the lords and ladies of the court.
The money wasn't the most important piece of being present at the race. She knew that and obviously by the words of her husband, he knew that. The 100 drachmae were change in the bottom of a bucket, but for some, it would be worth it. Circenia almost wanted to ask what it cost to pay many of them to even staff a ship. Did that equal the prize at the end of it all? The ships that might get damaged in the scuffle under the advice of terrible captains just out for the money with little regard to those around them? Probably not. However, that was not a lady's business. And certainly not her place to chastise the men in their dangerous games, especially for those who hadn't spent all week praying to Poseidon.
"Low." She repeated in a hushed tone. Circenia didn't like losing. His next sentences were probably supposed to placate her in knowing that they weren't here to win. That wasn't the point and she shouldn't have been dwelling on it. But, she was. Her eyes stared out to the waves and the many sails that had a rainbow of colors representing houses and other allegiances. Her brain had been churning at the thought of another house winning the bragging rights for an entire year.
Attention was then returned to her husband as her expression read something a little more hopeful. "I am sure there is money to be had gambling. Much more than 100 drachmae." If she couldn't have that prize, Circenia would start plotting another way to have her winnings. It was just a matter of looking at the ships and picking what one might win. Even if it meant betting secretly against the own ship her husband had sent out on to the water.
She made her way down just in time to see the Princess Emilia say a little speech. Quaint really. Her hands folded together as she could remember a time when she might have been the one to start it all. And someday it would be her grandchildren. Emilia could have her moment, but it would only be a blip in the span of eternity. And what have they done to go down in history anyway, what had Minas done besides worry about love instead of the peace of Athenia.
"Praise Poseidon." Her hand went to her chest as she saw them go as she spoke out the words with a bit of concern. Though it was all for show. She actually was there to see if any would sink, maybe someone important to pump up some gossip. All in a row, it was easy for them to hit each other. The sounds of wood bumping as they pick up speed across the Aegean and aim for the pre-planned route.
Linos was still on his way to the race. He didn't want to be there on his own accord. On the contrary, he didn't wish to come at all. After all, there were more exciting things he could be doing such as reading and drawing some diagrams he had really been needing to draw. However, he had promised his brother Dysmas that he would come. Thus, so he would. Anything to help his brother.
On the way to the race, Linos had to continually remind himself that he needed to focus on getting there. However, his mind had other plans. Upon seeing a leaf gracefully fall from a tree, Linos became completely enamored by the sight and approached the tree. There, he sat pondering the state and being of things for a while. Time passed, but it couldn't have been too long. Linos then remembered what he was supposed to be doing. Yet, when he looked up, he realized that the street where he was was barren. Most people must be there already. The man shook his head, internally scolding himself for not keeping focus yet again on the task at hand. He quickly stood up, brushing himself off and moved posthaste toward where the event was taking place.
Upon arriving, Linos noticed just how massive the crowd actually was. He suddenly felt a tad nauseated, but he had resolve. He made a promise to his brother. He wasn't just about to break it because there was an overwhelming crowd. After gathering his mental strength and taking a deep breath, Linos plunged into the crowd. He moved around people carefully, but he was often clumsy, and had to really focus on keeping himself steady. As he moved through the crowd he also kept his eye out for the familiar face of his brother.
Yet, person after person, man after man, woman after woman, child after child, object after object, and Linos could not see his brother anywhere in sight. He felt defeated. He hung his head, clinging to the book he brought to the event, at this point just hoping to find somewhere to sit down and read. It was then that he decided to take one more glance across the people gathered to finally spot who he had been looking for. He wondered if it had been completely chance as he quickened his pace to meet his brother. Upon finally getting closer he gave a smile of relief, "Oh, Dysmas, I finally found you! I'm sorry that I'm so late."
Light. Too much light. Daniil thought as she reached out to yank the covers over her head. Next thing she knew they were being yanked off of her.
Opening her eyes she slowly looked around contentiously blinking as her eyes worked to adjust to the light.
"Milady? You are late."
Three words was all it took to kick the youngest of Pavlos' girls out of bed. She knew her father, who was perpetually annoyed at having a household full of women, would be a bit extra annoyed if any of them were late.
In a panic she slid out of the bed and began the mad dash to get ready.
Its not like he is going to leave without us. she told herself as she took a bath. She smelled like lavender once they were done.Wrapped in a towel she sat back down on the bed and broke her fast while a servant worked on her dark mass of hair brushing and combing it to make it shine.
She made a face as the brush got stuck in a knot, sending pain through her head.
"Oww! Gods!" she hissed as she glared over her shoulder. The girl just met her gaze and then set to finishing her task.
"Apologies Milady." the girl said.
Daniil gave her a small smile and then turned to finish her meal. Once that was done the dishes were taken away and she dressed jeweled, and coifed with her dark hair piled on her head. Once she was ready and well steeled for what she knew was coming, Daniil joined her family.
Daniil inclined her head in a motion of respect to her elders, flashed a grin at Elena, and then gave a nod and a smile of sorts to Agathe.
She joined the other womenfolk in their assigned carriage and watched the sights as they traveled and on occasions sharing a smile with Cyrene and watching Sera from under her lashes. Hmmm not the best of signs. I wonder what has Mother upset? Though I would not doubt that Father would be the likely cause. The thought rolled through her brain as carriage came to a stop and the women climbed out led by Cyrene, her mother, and her elder sisters. Once Daniil was out she took a moment to brush out any wrinkles in her outfit. She inhaled deeply and then she shielded her eyes as she moved out of the way and glanced around.
She watched Cyrene wave at someone and then smiled as she caught sight of Dysmas and she could tell from the heat of her cheeks, that she was blushing. She did not let her gaze linger there overly long before she returned to taking in the crowd as she followed her mother and sisters. Though she could not wait to be able to run off on her own, but that would come soon enough.
Watching proudly as her little sister announced the event and ensured its beginning, Persephone watched for a few moments as the ships launched out to sea.
She had witnessed this event a fair few times given that it occurred twice a year and she officiated every time for near the last ten years. And it always began the same. With pomp and circumstance, the sailors charged forwards as quick as their sails would carry them. It was all for show for the second they reached the second bay they would have to adjust their speed and start to sail carefully instead of at a fast pace. The stones and rocky outcroppings of the second harbour would be dangerous, if not lethal to the underside of many a boat and it would be down to each sailing teams' choice whether to sail out further, take a longer route in distance but be safe from such dangers... or to shorten their direct path and attempt to brave the rockier terrain.
Almost all sailors experienced in the race took the latter option... knowing that to sail successfully through the dangerous waters would put them leagues ahead of the other contestants by the time they reached the third harbour...
Then there were the new team entries - the ones who had never sailed in the contest before - or in fact in a contest like it... the ones whose sailing teams could not decide what they should do when presented with such a choice and had not formulated a plan prior to setting sail. They would be the ones most likely to crash and visit Poseidon in the depths.
To be ill prepared in such a game was to court the darker depths of the sea.
Upon witnessing the first launching where everyone raised to the second harbour as quickly as they could, Persephone chose to take a step back, deliberately allowing Emilia the spot light. Instead, she moved back and off of the stage area and with several bodyguards in toe moved to make her presence known among the market stalls.
While she was no in need of a souvenir from the event like many others would be - once again this was perhaps the two dozenth time she had attended the King of the Waves contest - Persephone knew the importance of being seen as a face among the people. Interacting, showing interest... for she did have interest. She wanted to know the people she saw herself as serving every day.
And so, with a handful of her gown so as not to leave it trailing on the ground and through the salt water puddles, Persephone headed to glance among the stalls, her armed escort and the shine of her silver crown creating a wide berth for her as she progressed along the market stalls curious of certain objects here and there and smiling at the merchants that peddled them.
Another grand day of Athenia, the boat races! What joy for Balius, right? Not in his opinion exactly, he'd just be showing himself off properly to endorse and remind the public as the Champion of Marikas. Not all the glory should be Androkles's and it wasn't. Balius had a brutal and strong reputation of his own to uphold and he proudly did so. Public appearance was always a good thing, specially for his master's household. So dutifully he got up early, dressed in finer garb than normal, along with the exomis and chlamys there were a couple silver armbands wrapping around his biceps, wrists and ankles. Topped off with his more flash balteus around his hips that held his gladius sword and pugio dagger, an extra slot held a smaller blade of Lady Daniil's choice, Balius was ready to start his day.
Offering a hand to the stable's servants to ready the carriages and horses, Balius would be joining the driver of the women's carriage. Perhaps being a champion he could have insisted on being a passenger, instead he'd rather be out in the open, enjoying the sun on his flesh and be a bit of a guard as well. If something stirred up, though most likely wouldn't, Balius would be first to react to ensure safety of the Marikas family with being on the outside of the carriages. He even held the door open and gave the ladies a hand up if they'd needed it. Giving small smiles and respectful nods to each whenever they finally showed up. He'd repeat this process once they were to the docks as well.
Balius gave a flirtatious grin to Agathe when she got out of the carriage and a wink to Daniil as well, pulling his chlamys back just enough to show her the handle of her weapon. He'd made sure no one was looking when he'd revealed it briefly. It was a small thing he liked to do for the rebellious lady whenever she had to dress up pretty for the public. "You look beautiful Mistress Daniil, the gown fits you desirably." Balius teased Daniil as she flattened out any wrinkles from the ride there, hoping it'd ease her into a genuine smile so she wouldn't have to force one. He always was amused when she had to present a more lady-like side of herself.
Following behind the flock of Marikas, he glanced over to where the men's carriage had gone to see where they had gone off to after departing from it. Two out of three followed the sailor and Rafail was off to conquer the day by hunting down Emilia already. No one could say the pompous Makiras didn't have purpose and direction. It made him smirk, unless summoned by Panos, Pavlos or Rafail, Balius would stay near the ladies of the household. Not to close to interfere with their socializing but enough to keep an eye on them so no trouble could be had. Meanwhile he'd enjoy the salty taste of the sea in the air while watching another man's sport for once.
Daniil watched Balius flirt with her sister, holding her own smile in place with the tight control she learned over along time of doing so.
When Balius winked at her and flashed the hilt of the dagger she had gifted him with, she could not help but break into a real smile and she felt her cheeks heat up as a blush made its way up her cheeks.
"Thank You Balius." she managed to get out. Taking a breath she aided, "You look handsome.
She took a moment to look around. Her smile grew at caught sight of Linos and Dysmas.
She moved over in their direction and said "Good Day, to you both, Lord Linos and Lord Dysmas."
With the Feast of the Sinners well in the past and a significant break in the troupe's schedule before their return to Taengea the following month, Basilides found himself with a shocking amount of time on his hands. Intermittently, he found certain smaller events to book for select performers and was constantly busy with coordinating which performers went where within the Kingdom, but for his own health and sanity, he needed days like today.
Wearing a light chiton that was clasped in place with a rather large broach bearing the Children of Mnemosyne's emblem and belted with a braided cord of bearing the troupe's colors, he supposed that was enough to keep the troupe's name on the lips of anyone who could recognize it. After all, the performance as a whole was still talked about frequently - particularly Zephyrus' startling opening act. The corner of his lip flicked upward as he thought on his part-time lover with pride, taking a sip from a goblet of wine as he leaned against the stone railing and out at the ships that readied themselves for the race.
His eyes flicked to the faces around him, casually, hardly recognizing faces but certainly recognizing the stations they held. For a day at the shore, the nobles were decked out in billowing fabric and shimmering jewelry that captured the light bouncing off the water. There were a few faces he recognized from their stay in Athenia and the social events of the season.
As the announcements began, Bas straightened like the others around him, watching intently and admiring the projection of the Master of Ceremonies as it began. A short snort of a laugh escaped his proud nose as he imagined Phineus' imaginary response to it, and inevitable critiques of pronunciation and such. In truth, the Master of Ceremonies was quite impressive, but he knew his dear friend would never admit such things, and for a brief moment Bas wished he were there but was also quite glad he was not.
His thick brows flicked upward in interest as Princess Emilia of Xanthos spoke, charmed by the sweet tone and measure of her speech. For being so young, she held a great deal of poise. Yes, there were nerves present as well, but only to the eyes of someone who spent his life watching performers struggle through roles until they were perfect. In many cases, the young princess' entire life was a role that was constantly changing. The same for her sister as well. He did not envy either of them one bit.
There was a brief moment of silence, of prayer, and Basilides was not one to take it lightly as he took a moment to close his eyes for a brief prayer as well. In a few weeks time, the troupe would once again take to the seas for a new Kingdom, always on the move. Bas was not afraid of the sea, but he respected it deeply and knew that Poseidon did care for those who did so.
At the young royal's words and the flight of the dove, the race began. The familiar sound of sails rustling as they captured the wind began to fade as the ships pulled away from the starting point, moving towards their first challenge - the rocky outcrops. It would be a short while before they reached their, and Bas promptly realized he was out of wine. Well, he had a bit of time before things would get terribly exciting, so he drifted away from the stone railing only to watch the hole he created be filled with other intent spectators as he moved towards the market stall towards the wine vendor.
There were many others who milled about through the market stalls, more than likely not here for the race at all, much like himself. Taking a day to live life outside of the usual routine was refreshing and good. He loved the way the salt air seemed to cling to his curls, and enjoyed being able to lose himself in a crowd - specifically without having others pester him with questions and requests. He loved the troupe dearly, but there was always something. They could survive without a producer for a day.
Turning a corner, Basilides had to take a moment to blink hard as the shine off a Royal guard's armor caught him in the eye. Taking a moment to blink and squint appropriately, he was moderately surprised to see Princess Persephone of Xanthos ahead, taking in the sights as well. Out of odd instinct, he could not help but glance back at the stage as if to see her there as well, but only saw the young Princess Emilia present among her entourage. Following the crowd, Basilides kept his distance but watched the Princess as she drifted along the stalls, not daring to take too many steps closer or to edge around her invisible perimeter simply for the sake of wine, lest he end up on the wrong side of a sword.
Even through the hustle and bustle of the morning Con noticed her. Persephone. Not many could escape the beauty of the princess, the "Goddess on Earth." Constantinos had always harbored a childhood crush on her, much like many humans; this woman possessed a beauty that could make even the most heterosexual woman turn her head in wonder. Over the past 10 years, he would wait for the King of Waves with bated breath hoping that father would invite him to come work the event. Just a glimpse of her was enough to send Con into a blushing stupor that frequently got him hit. Not badly, just a brain-duster to bring him back to reality. Athos would always send him away on a menial errand when this happened, more because he didn't want Con to notice that he was doing the same, damned, thing.
Con watched distractedly as she approached closer, his heart pounding. This was by far the closest she had ever come to his tent. Most of the men in the tent at the time, noticed that Con had paused hawking wares and turned to face the direction he was staring, also freezing. They, too, were dumbstruck.
The closer she approached, the longer simple tasks were taking him. He raised a cup to his mouth to take a drink but realized almost a full three minutes later he was still holding it in front of his face, and was still thirsty. As he set the water back down he noticed that Persephone had a handful of her gown in her hands. "This must be massively inconvenient, what if she wanted to examine or buy something, it would get WET!" he thought.
Fumbling hurriedly through his jewelry he began looking for a brooch he might offer to the princess, after all, it was unbecoming for her to be carrying her clothing. He brushed past the regular bronze ones, past the gold, as it wouldn't have fit with the outfit. Pure white was regal, but not in such a way as to be seeking attention, and with all the puddles around it would be a shame to get them dirty. No, she needed something ornate and beautiful but not as aggressive as gold. And then he found it, the teal peacock feather brooch he had purchased last week. It was made of turquoise and had a sapphire in the center of it, he had meant so sell this to a foreign merchant for quite a markup but opportunities like today did not frequently present themselves.
He pocketed the brooch and shooed customers out of his way and out of the tent. Better to be at least a little safe and at least attempt to prevent theft. No one seemed to be too bothered at being ushered out; better view anyway.
Steeling his resolve he approached the princess and her guards, his confidence faltering with every step. Was he seriously going to approach her? Did he have the strength to proceed? Would the guards halt his approach? His mind began to spiral in its usual panic. Here we go, the end once more, he would offer the brooch to the princess, the guards would assume he was attacking. They would draw weapons and defend Persephone, he would get stabbed or otherwise maimed; he'd bring shame upon his family, they would lose everything and all over a silly brooch. The color drained from his face has he approached her, completely forgetting to bow in respect.
"Y..Your highness, I... h-have... t-this... b-brooch for... y-you..." he spoke, wide-eyed and fearful. Here it came. The final blow to his career, his family's honor and name. "Oh malaka," he swore under his breath at realizing he had forgotten to bow, and fell to his knees a little too quickly, a small rock cutting deep into his shin.
Persephone was staring at a stylus of silver with pretty engravings found at a stall when the owner of another approached her from her left. Turning in time to be face on to the young and handsome man as he began to speak, Persephone set aside the stylus in order to offer the man the respect of her full attention and simply brought her hands - one free and the other still holding the additional material of her skirts to in front of her, folded neatly before her pelvis as she stood with elegance and grace.
As the man approached, clearly nervous or a little under the weather - she wasn't entirely sure - one of her guards stepped forward with hand on his weapon. Persephone did not stop him for her men were well trained. They would not attack unless a man appeared as threat and even a cursory sweep of her own eyes - less the skill of the men around her - could tell that this young merchant wore no dagger or blade about his person. Unless he was a particularly creative and secretive killer.
Unlikely in so large an event with so many observers in a space on the docks where she was never planned to be, given that her place was up on the staging with her sister.
If he were a danger to her person, he had just become the luckiest one there was. Persephone did not buy such a thing...
Instead, she offered a small smile to the man who approached. His eyes were a little darting - perhaps in nerves at addressing royalty for the first time (for she knew she had never met him before) - and his face a little ruddy. But then, it was hot out and the merchants had had their stalls set up since daybreak. It was understandable that a lot of them would be hot as it was only an hour now before the sun's peak.
As he spoke, Persephone's small smile adjusted to offer the raise of an eyebrow and a curious expression as the stumbled over his words, apparently offering her a brooch.
Curious as to why the man was doing such - for this was not a day of presentation when gifts were given to royalty in exchange for favours - but a day of celebration and trade...
She had little time to wonder however when the man suddenly dropped to his knees, clearly embarrassed at his slip in etiquette and dropping in a thunk onto the cobbles below that had Persephone wincing a little.
"Please, rise." She told the man with a gentle hand gesture, flipping her fingers upwards. She did not need such penitence before her in the middle of the market place. "I thank you for your courtesy, young man, but such reverence is unnecessary." She smiled. "May I see the brooch?" She asked him, offering out a hand so that she might take the piece he was still holding...
The ships were off,lurching forward in the glittering emerald waters, fighting for dominance and to take the lead. Emilia sent up a little prayer thanking Poseidon for the beautiful weather today which allowed the Athenian sailors to slice through the Aegean waters with swift determination. Watching from the platform, their sails billowed in the air, and everyone's faces took on the picture of utmost concentration as they started forward. Neck and neck to begin with, the skills would soon come to play after the second harbor - but for now, it was a straight line to their first destination.
Boreas played in their favor too. A light smile appeared upon Emilia's face as the gust of wind picked at her locks, tossed her seafoam chiton around, the amount of material available making it that much easier for the wind gods to harass her with. She was quite at ease, as she picked up her skirts, waiting for the remainder of her lady's maid to help her with the material, when a call of her name from a voice she had previously welcomed before what she saw during the Feast of Sinners, made Emilia's eyes narrow.
Standing next to Nicholai, she frowned at the sight of one Rafail of Marikas's whose entrance she had strictly forbidden wherever she was located. Emilia was one of tender and loyal heart - she had been smitten by the young lord, but she was also one who protected herself. Watching him with a pair of twin ladies during the ball that celebrated her sister's engagement was enough to dissolve the princess of any growing affections she may feel, and with a look that clearly told Rafail to stay away, she made a wide berth around the young lord to descend the steps, quickly making her way to the second harbor, she leading the rest of the spectators whose eyes followed the racing skafos's.
By the time Emilia got there, she could just see the approach of the racers as they got nearer - it would seem a young sailor representing one of the noble houses, a vassal of the royal house of Condos seemed to be taking the lead, the skafos emblazoned with the house colors. It was but a very precarious and small lead, however, and the sailor in charge was obviously determined to keep it, sails billowing whilst they worked hard. From where they stood, Emilia could hear the loud cries of the sailors over the screech of the seagulls in the midst of the race.
Close behind enough was a Lord Fyrios, just ahead of the Marikas sponsored sailor and the dark-haired self-sponsored sailor Emilia had caught the eye of earlier. With the straight sail to the second harbor, one would not expect much problems, but it would appear the Condos sailor seemed too at ease with the straight path.
Seemingly not noticing the rocky outcroppings of the second harbor, Emilia gasped when she noticed the Condos skafos sailing directly into the cluster of rocks that were hidden due to the waves growing stronger and rougher in these parts. A collective gasp went up when a loud and sickening crunch could be heard as the skafos ran directly into the rocks, followed by the collision of a small fishing family's ship right into the overturned Condos skafos - the carnage right in the pathway of the remaining sailors behind them, at a distance too close to avoid safely without some deft and swift maneuvering from the rest of the racing sailors.
“In some ways, Dysmas?” Cyrene crinkled her nose at him. “It’s a perfect match. Every brother wants his sister well settled…” she let the sentence drift away. She was envious of Thalia being married so soon after returning from such a terrible ordeal. It was the worst thing in the world to be parted from one’s family, especially in such a way. Of course, she wasn’t privy to detail, but what she did know was that Thalia was kidnapped. And everyone knew what happened when someone was kidnapped.
It must have been so exciting….she sighed to herself, half wishing that something amazing would happen to her too. Though...not being stolen. There was such a thing as too much excitement.
“Dysmas, I do not believe a word you say. I can think of nothing better than Thalia with Patros. It’s…” she struggled.
It was then that Thalia mentioned that perhaps an even better marriage might be on the horizon for her. “I hope so,” she forced a bright smile. “I’m hoping my father will arrange something soon...or perhaps someone will express an interest.” Here she pulled both her cousins tighter against her in a sort of strange sideways hug. The morning had been awful already and she wasn’t prepared to mention to either of them that not only had she broken Sera of Marikas’s favorite jewels, but she’d done it directly in front of Lord Pavlos.
The whole thing was terribly embarrassing.
She was saved from further questioning in that vein by the arrival of her cousin Linos. When Dysmas turned, so did she and she let go of him to wave at Linos. “Hello, cousin!” she smiled and shaded her eyes to see him better, noting the book he held tightly to his chest. “Never without your books, I see. Aren’t you wanting to watch the race?”
Princess Emilia came drew the attention of the crowd, offering 100 Drachma as the prize and started the race. The boats were off in a mad surge of oars splashing into the water. She kept her arm linked through Thalia’s arm, not paying attention to the fact that her cousin was craning her neck, looking at someone else that Cyrene didn’t even know existed.
“I wish we could sail,” she sighed wistfully, her eyes on Pavlos’s boat. “Instead I’m stuck inside….all day.” She paused and then, “You know, this is the first day out I’ve had in awhile. Dysmas, Linos, would you mind getting us something sweet? I didn’t bring any money…”
She did not know that Daniil of Marikas was almost upon them until she heard the girl speak. Turning, she smiled brightly and reached for her. “And for Lady Daniil as well? You can hardly say no to three beautiful women, I think?”
Panos awoke that day in no real mood or hurry to attend the triennial skafos race. His eldest son had chosen the sailor to represent their family, and from Panos' understanding had bet a fair amount of coin on the outcome, so naturally, Panos had to be somewhat mentally invested. That didn't mean he would have to like it, but when did he ever really like performing his duties? The point was he did them regardless. This was an ideal he had worked hard to try and instill in his sons. Pavlos had a good command of the concept. For Rafail, on the other hand, the concept could not be more foreign.
Panos was woken early and breakfasted alone. It gave him time to prepare mentally for whatever day lie ahead, without the distractions provided by his ever growing family. The rest of the household was roused steadily, and soon the commotion of an awoken household took over the din of early morning silence that Panos so craved.
It was a typical morning by all accounts. Pavlos was ready, and therefore, everyone else had to be, as well. When, as could have been predicted, they weren't, he took to pacing impatiently up and down the foyer. The women dribbled down from their rooms in their own time, it seemed, and last to arrive, as was always the case, was Rafail, preened and glowing like a prize purebred.
Once everyone had assembled, a nod exchanged with Pavlos indicated it was finally time to leave, and he led the way outside to the carriages. He was to share his own carriage with his two sons, as usual, and a guest; the sailor Pavlos had sponsored to represent their family in the race. He was a burly man, handsome, Panos supposed, but he didn't seem all that bright. His sons sat beside one another, and the sailor sat beside Panos. Once the carriage kicked off to a familiarly bumpy start, he proceeded to strike up casual small talk with the sailor.
Brawn he had, there was no doubt, but if the man had brains, Panos could not find them, not matter what question he asked. Panos' interest in the sailor began to wane, but with one look at his sons, who were clearly exchanging snipes of some variety, he resolved to continue the bland conversation - could it really be called that? - with the dull sailor.
After what he swore was a longer, scenic route to the docks, the carriage finally arrived, and Panos took no time waiting for the door to open for him; the moment the carriage stopped, he pushed the door open straight away, letting himself out. He waited for his guest, the sailor, as was expected, and the two of them began to walk toward the docks. He didn't care to wait for his sons or the women's carriage. They were all at the same place, after all.
Further dull small talk with the sailor was interrupted when Rafail snaked his way up through the walking crowd to meet them, imploring that he simply could not share the carriage ride home with the sailor.
Panos let out a silent, long-winded sigh. His youngest son was trying at the best of times. His whims and his fancies were seldom of any interest to anyone, least of all Panos, but there were indeed a few reasons Panos indulged him. First, it meant he didn't have to deal with him as much. Give him what he wants, and he would be satiated until the next time he deemed himself in desperate need of something. It was better than the alternative.
Second, since Pavlos, the heir he had hoped to be the closest in line to the throne should the tables turn for their family, and his wife had not and now possibly could not conceive a male heir, the next in line was Rafail. This was far from ideal, but it meant Panos had to display a certain amount of support toward him for the public eye - much of this meant granting him his every mindless wish.
His lips upturned ever so slightly into the smallest smile, the only one he could muster, as he looked back at his ridiculous son. "I don't see why not." Rafail bounced away like the child he was, and Panos regarded the sailor. "Best you go and get yourself ready. May Poseidon bless you, boy." The sailor nodded and bid goodbye to Panos before disappearing into the crowds.
Alone, at last.
His family dispersed around the docks, Panos maneuvered himself into a good position to see the race. He wasn't particularly interested, but the appearance of interest was all that mattered.
He had arrived in Athenia a little later then he would've liked or planned. Having intended to arrive before the beginning of the sailing race, while Kreios had no intention of participating in the race, he had wanted to join the crowds who watched. Yet as the Azazel pulled into its slot in the second harbor, from his vantage point on deck, Kreios could see that the sailors were already well on their way, the skafos bouncing on the seawaters, each vying for that prize money Kreios had heard was rumored to be presented to the winner.
Leaving Descat and Captain Garvey to settle the anchoring of his ship and the arrangements of his missives so he could get to all the clients he had who had sent him a missive while he was in a neighboring kingdom, Kreios leaned over the edges of his ship, observing the races of the skafos.
It would appear a skafos emblazoned with a crest Kreios recognized as belonging to the House Condos was taking the lead - until, it would seem, the Fates had a different thought to it.
Before anyone had the time to even gasp of come to terms with the fact that the second harbor was infinitely more treacherous then the first one which they had departed from, the loud crash of the skafos that had been in the lead reverberated across the clear skies and rang across the harbors, clear for all its spectators to know what had happened. The sickening crunch that followed made even Kreios wince, watching from his point. The wind of the sea whipped his dark hair into disarray, playing with the black chiton he wore, and revealing his bare arms under the gray himation he had clasped across his left shoulder.
"That does not seem like something they could recover from easily."
It would appear that Garvey had taken an interest in the race, for his words alerted Kreios to the fact that the captain now stood next to him, his graying hair in wisps, yet eyes remained alert as one should be,being the captain of a sea vessel. Kreios chuckled, and shrugged. "They should have studied the waters more carefully. The second harbor of Athenia had never been easy to manoevre."
"It may sound like you are the captain of the ship instead, Master Kreios.'
The merchant paused, and then gave a slow, almost lazy smile."I could. I just choose not to."