The explosion of talk from inside the senate had been enough to set the man on edge. Stravos had been dethroned in an impromptu trial that no noble family had seen coming. That alone was enough to talk about in large droves. It was a wonder that Keikelius had even been able to look his own wife and daughter in the eye. A sharp snapping of jaws had ensured that Elias rode back with the family in one single carriage.
Keikelius hard hardly spoken since the Senate meeting had completed. The Master of Trade had smiled, nodded, and given his vote without skipping a single beat. All in good faith and with promise of no treachery from him or his royal wife. The thought had settled in the back of his mind that Princess Circenia would be most affected by the loss of lands and titles. The moment the words had left his niece's mouth, Keikelius had started to count his lucky stars that Circenia would not add to the precarious nature of their sudden, lowered position.
His wife had a temper that could burn bridges and raze entire cities to the ground. This temperament had been entirely and completely alluring to Keikelius when the match had been made between Xanthos and Stravos. Despite Keikelius' ambitions, the hope had been to foster some warm and strong connection between the two powerful families. Clearly, Keikelius had failed his family in that regard. Better, his own son had broken down each and every bridge that Keiklius had spent his entire life building between his family and the others around them.
Staring out the side of the carriage that carried Elias, Chara, and Circenia, Keikelius only vaguely wondered where his other daughter had gotten off to. There had been some mention that the girl had run off upon arrival, to which Keikelius truly couldn't give the energy to worry. There were bigger things to worry about than the flippant nature of his youngest child. The horse that Keikelius had ridden to the Senate meeting trailed quietly behind, having been attached to the back of the carriage.
Lifting his gaze, Keikelius silently observed the sky above them. The bright blue hue was somewhat cheery for Keikelius' tastes. He still preferred the clouded skies and winded high seas to the clear sunshine that had graced them on this day. It was as if the gods were laughing at the misfortune of the House of Stravos. Now dissolved in the wake of the quiet treachery of his eldest son.
Keikelius brought his hand up to his lips, trailing his thumb under the curve of his bottom lip. Falling deeper into his thoughts, his mind raced from thought to thought and plan to plan. How did they fix what his ballsy, mistempered heir had broken? It wasn't the same as patching the hull of a ship or mending a chiton. If the assertions of the Princess had been true, which Keikelius was inclined to believe, then there would be little that could be done by way of deals and agreements.
If Elias had truly committed treason, there was little that anyone could do to save the Stravos family from ruin. And ruin was to come with the sudden loss of lands, taxes, and business that had been removed from their grasp in a few simple words. Still, Keikelius' expression didn't shift from the usual mask of boredom and silent contempt for everything going on around him. The carriage was eerily quiet. Even Chara had found that now was not the time to launch into conversation that no one would pay proper attention to.
Keikelius briefly recalled the events of his young life. Karkos of Stravos had been a tough force to reckon with. Add in the fact that Karkos had liked to raise his hand to his son when the young man slipped up in his own dealings, and Keikelius had endured a number of factors that had shaped his entire person when coupled with his military service and business experience. It had happened so many times and so often that it had become a normal feeling for Keikelius. The bruises under his tunics and chitons had been easy to hide, and even if they hadn’t, most had attributed it to boyish clumsiness, and then later to a test of strength and meddle with his military training.
One moment, in particular, stood out to Keikelius, however. The man had been fourteen at the time and the words that had come out of his mouth at a particular business meeting had earned him a number of licks with the whip. The failure and loss of a business prospect never sat well with Karkos and it had been vital that Keikelius recall his mistakes. So that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t find himself so foolish ever again. For the moment, Keikelius could recall clearly the feeling of leather striking his skin. He shifted in the seat of the carriage, pretending that he was simply settling into a more comfortable position.
Never had Keikelius been forced to make such an example of Elias. His had had never been forced in that direction, with any of his children. Keikelius liked to think that his sharp tongue and idle threats had been enough. He honestly thought that he had trained Elias better. The passing of his position as the head of house had been a symbol of good faith and trust in his son as Keikelius moved to take a higher position that suited his experience and ambitions. Not to mention, he had had every intention of keeping his son under his thumb. But this situation was absolutely abhorrent.
He briefly recalled the threat that Elias had thrown at the princess before he had been escorted out of the senate.
‘Watch your back, Princess. This isn’t over yet.’
Elias had even had the balls to threaten a member of immediate royalty. And the thought had only served to make Keikelius tense as he’d let his gaze bore into the back of his only son, flanked on both sides by guards instructed to remove the Stravos family from the Senate meeting. He had been granted his ability to remain, his title as Master of Trade superseding any title of, or lack thereof, nobility. It had been clear that a few senators had been none too keen on the idea of Keikelius being able to remain. Already, Keikelius knew, there would be rumors that father and son had been working together to take down the royal family by way of treason. An entire untruth, surely, but one that would spread like wildfire.
Even his queen of gossip and information would be no match for the vile words of courtiers and senators, for servants and civilians. Keikelius had to drop his gaze from the sky just to keep his lip from curling in utter disgust. The facade of calm and poise remained despite the annoying jostle of the carriage and the uncomfortable silence that had befallen the entire family.
It seemed, however, that Chara had suddenly found her voice. “Papa?” the woman questioned boldly, watching her father with a mildly resigned expression. “What is to happen now that we’ve been stripped of our nobility?”
His daughter was asking the real questions, it seemed. And truth be told, Keikelius didn’t actually know. Still, he couldn’t leave her with nothing at all. “We’ve lost our titles and our lands,” Keikelius noted calmly, dark gaze fixed on his eldest child, “This means we will earn no taxes from our tenants or the provinces’ business dealings. We no longer hold any land, so our wood supply for building ships have been removed from our inventories. In addition, we will no longer make anything off much of what our business was exporting. It is likely that the noble families can, and will choose every non-Stravos ship possible to use to ferry their goods. Our ports would have been stripped from us were they not the property of our personal business. We hold our wealth from our personal business, but that will only take us so far without bankrupting us. Should we find ships damaged or unfit to sail, the cost of repairs alone will eat at our coffers. Our only true saving grace is that our ports will still garner taxes,” Keikelius’ voice didn’t waver. In truth, the man sounded nothing but normal and matter-of-fact. There was no use in sugarcoating the entire fact that the Stravos were now penniless and bankrupt.
Elias had seen to that.
Chara seemed to flinch, turning her gaze away from the family to glance out the carriage, clearly frustrated by the course of events. There had been hopes of an advantageous marriage for the beauty. Especially on the part of her father. His own little princess deserved only the best and had King Minas had any male heirs, Keikelius would have long offered Chara’s hand to the crown prince. If anything, Chara had the most sense of both her siblings despite her overall nature. At this point, Keikelius would have been pleased to have solidified any marriage at all for her. It would have saved her the disgrace of losing her title due to her brother’s own misplaced ambitions.
Elias hadn’t simply bankrupted the family. Suddenly, any chances of his siblings, and even Elias himself, marrying well were off the table. Very few would associate with the Stravos and the cost of a dowry for one or both of Keikelius’ daughters would only further their despondency. His little girls would be forced to marry lower than their true status, and that alone was enough to start the kindling fires of anger in the pit of the man’s stomach. None of them deserved what had been handed to them at that Senate meeting. Elias, sure. Had Princess Persephone not stripped the family of their nobility, Keikelius would have petitioned to strip Elias of his without a second thought.
The boy was too rash. And he was just that, a boy. And he would remain a boy in Keikelius’ eyes until he showed some sense of maturity that was clearly lacking in all regards. His son had the looks and the grace, but Keikelius wasn’t convinced he truly had the intelligence to keep his mouth shut and his hands out of things they didn’t belong in, especially when it counted. Had Elias truly wanted to advocate for the throne, there were a number of different, less destructive means in which to take it. Whether Elias’ actions were true or false in the eyes of the Senate, little mattered now.
All was said and all was done.
Keikelius let his gaze rest on his son for a single moment, only giving a slight nod of acknowledgment. It was enough to give Elias a sense of peace. A sense that he was being let off, once again, with few consequences for his actions. Perhaps the loss of his titles was enough of a punishment. Perhaps Elias would see it that way. The punishment fit the crime, surely. But the punishment still didn’t fit the crimes that the ladies of the Stravos house had not committed. The family was punished for the sins of the son and that only added to the licking fire that seemed to curl up along his limbs now.
Gods, the carriage needed to move faster.
Falling entirely silent, Keikelius went back to watching the world move outside of their carriage. Already, he needed to figure out how to keep the family afloat financially. Would they have to sell their large manor? The barony house in Lyncestia? Would they have to sell horses, ships, art? And what would happen with Circenia?
That fear struck harder than he had expected it to. Circenia had married him for his wealth, and while the two had eventually fallen for each other… Keikelius shifted once more. There was a precarious balance that had been struck between him and his wife. She was able to spend to her heart’s content because they had had the means. And now? Now they couldn’t spend more than was absolutely necessary if they didn’t want to be living on the streets within a few months. Of course, Keikelius was to worry about the strain this loss was going to put on his relationship with his wife. He could only hope that her love for him ran deeper than her love for his wealth. Former wealth. To her, he could have just become nothing but a penniless lowborn man with little clout name save for the title he still health in the senate.
Not to mention that the loss would now affect his ability to do his job. The reputation he held had been smashed to pieces.
It was with that thought that the carriage came to a sudden halt in front of the manor. Taking a sobering breath, Keikelius rose from the carriage, stepping down onto solid ground. He was careful to help Chara down, keeping a firm hold on her and ensuring that she didn’t twist anything. Keikelius even went so far as to straighten a fold of her gorgeous chiton. Giving a small, gentle smile, he touched her chin affectionately before letting go and putting his focus on Circenia. He felt somber as he helped his wife down out of the carriage, his hands on her waist. He took a moment to lock eyes with her, trying to convey that they would be alright. He hadn’t worked out the minutiae of the entire situation, but that would take a few days to properly sort and assess. For now, he simply needed her to remain calm and firm in the face of their sudden adversity. That was truly all he was going to ask of her, if you didn’t count her staying as far from her brother as possible. Keikelius knew his wife’s temper enough to know that, if given the chance, she would leave a path of destruction in her wake.
There was a brief moment where Keikelius allowed his daughter and his wife to go ahead, waiting for Elias to descend from the carriage and join him on the ground. Keeping his hands at his sides, Keikelius turned and started to follow the ladies into the home, ensuring that Elias remained close behind him. The man paid absolutely no mind to the servants who were waiting there. No doubt they would hear the news shortly. No doubt many of them would be let go in an attempt to save the family a few drachmae. Good. He didn’t really care for a few of them anyway. Useless was what they were.
Just days before Circenia had been begging to fire a few of them. Keikelius wasn’t sure that the pretense under which their staff would be removed would truly be what she was hoping for, however.
Striding into the home and into the initial, warm living space, Keikelius glanced once at Circenia and Chara as they lingered by a table of food that had been spread out for their lunch. The table was spread with a hearty assortment of plums, figs, dates, olives, cheeses, breads, mutton, and fresh venison. The food had been placed neatly on expensive metal tableware, looking like something out of an art piece. The table had been covered with delicate crimson fabric edged with gold embroidery. Various pitchers of liquid were settled at one corner, accompanied by five goblets. One for each member of the Stravos family.
Reaching for one, Keikelius silently poured Circenia a glass of summer wine and passed it off to her. He poured a second for Chara and then glanced about the table of food. Sustenance wasn’t really on his list of priorities. The pause was meant to let him bide his time. To let him quell the increasing, agitating feeling of rage that had clung to him ever since he’d watched Elias as he was escorted from the Senate. Reaching over, he took an olive between large fingers, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully as he glanced back toward the wine.
It was eerily quiet and Keikelius could only imagine why. The tension in the air was almost palpable, but Keikelius still hadn’t addressed the entire situation. If anything, there was an air of assumption that Elias was going to meet no trouble whatsoever. Keikelius had half a mind to let that notion hang in the air and along Elias’ shoulders.
But Keikelius truly wasn’t that type of man. The businessman hadn’t made a name for himself in being brutal and without mercy for absolutely nothing. There were things Keikelius had done under the noses of his own family that would likely shock, awe, and terrify all at once. Besides, Keikelius truly wasn’t in the mood to toy with his son in the way he might have deserved. No, he wanted to build that air of confidence between them. That while the worst had truly happened, things could still be mended. LIke a blacksmith mending a broken blade. The Stravos still wouldn’t falter under the weight of their sentence.
Pouring himself a glass of the same summer wine, the Stravos man knocked the liquid back all at once, taking not even a breath to enjoy the liquid. Instead, he enjoyed the burn as it trailed down into the pit of his stomach, turning the roaring fire into a raging inferno. Taking yet another goblet, Keikelius filled it with wine and turned toward his son, approaching him slowly. He passed the cup off to Elias with a slight nod, moving back to the table to pour himself yet another glass.
Finally, he spoke to Elias, entirely ignoring the fact that his daughter and wife were in the room. “A valiant effort today, Elias,” he conceded, lifting his cup as if to give a toast. Whether Elias would drink the wine or not had yet to be seen and Keikelius truly paid no mind to little movements such as those. Instead, he fixed his son with a placid gaze and approached him. “How about a toast, Elias? To new paths and new beginnings and to our new position,” the corners of his lips even turned up into an interested smile, dark eyes alight with the promise of his words. Shaking his head, the smile still not leaving his face, he clapped Elias on the shoulder as he took a large swig of his wine.
Motioning one of the lingering servants over, he discarded the goblet into the woman’s hands with a slight nod. Turning his attention back to Elias.
There was literally no warning, no pretense, to Keikelius movements. The father’s grip suddenly tightened on Elias’ shoulder, almost in an effort to dig his fingers in. Surely, if he’d been something akin to a lion, Keikelius would have shredded the fabric of the man’s garb. Then he was moving swiftly, slightly crouched as, with his full strength, his fist connected with Elias’ stomach in an effort to knock all of the breath from his son’s lungs. Knowing just what it felt like to be punched so hard, Keikelius shifted himself to stand taller, holding a stunned, limp Elias against his shoulder.
Keikelius ignored the shriek of Chara from his side. The servant even reeled back with wide eyes, dropping the cup of wine onto the floor in front of her.
Rage lacing every word, Keikelius threaded his fingers into his son’s hair then, gripping it tight as he pulled Elias’ head back to look at him. The man could have vomited, Keikelius didn’t really care about that right then. Instead, he fixed his son with a sharp, venomous gaze. “The next time you pull a stunt like that, my son, I will lay your entrails out on the floor of this room and watch as the light leaves your eyes. And I’ll go to the hangman's noose delighted that I rid myself of the disgrace to my name, my father’s name, and my grandfather’s name.”
Without another word, Keikelius was dropping his son into a heap on the floor, listening to the struggle that came with attempting to get your breath after a hit such as that. Gritting his teeth, his features twisted with a rage that no one in the family had ever seen, Keikelius glared down at his son, the trembling of his hands the only sign that he was, in fact, reigning in the urge to simply cut Elias’ throat and be done with it. There would be little coming back from a disgrace such as the one that Elias had forced onto his family, and Keikelius would have happily greeted Hades without a second thought if it meant that he could have quelled the entirety of the events hot on their trail.
“Circenia, Chara,” Keikelius said very carefully, “I think it best you leave Elias and I alone,” his voice wavered only the slightest bit, carefully reigned anger edging a slight bite to his words. “Now.” He didn’t wait for either woman to leave, his glare still remaining rigid on the form of his son on the floor before him. That brief, hot flash of memory. The life of a soldier had been frigid, damning his already brutal and dangerous tendencies to a furtherment that only his stoic composure and calm demeanor could contain.
Letting out a sharp, shallow breath, Keikelius turned away sharply, stalking toward the table of food. No, it wasn’t enough to curb the anger. He’d bloodied men for far less. But this was his son and the extent of his power only went so far. The boy was a grown man and was considerably younger than Keikelius himself. Any further blows, regardless of the desire to keep Elias gasping in a heap, would be met with firm resistance. Bracing his hands against the table, he bowed his head, his shoulders tense, his body ready to spring into action at the slightest movement.
Desperate to find purchase on something, fingers gripped at the crimson tablecloth, shifting the plates slightly on the table while Keikelius worked on calming his own breathing. His own temper. There was much to be done, still. There was much to situate and sort and organize. It became a low chant in his mind. Calm resolve. Even breaths. Loss of sight with absolutely no sense of feeling. That was what he needed at that moment. Briefly, he pictured the calming hands of his wife, attempting to find anything to cling to that would end the sharp tang of rage still palpating the air.
And it didn’t subside. If anything, the rage grew into a firm burning. The thought of everything lost in just a few words of his idiot child. A child for all intents and purpose. A petulant bastard that he’d suddenly started to wish hadn’t made it to term. He would have had no heir if the only future presented to them had been this one. He would have rather seen the child born still for all the hell Elias had caused Keikelius. Forty years of work. Of Keikelius’ own blood and sweat and persistent resolve. The Stravos had been strong with Karkos. But they hadn’t flourished in the same way that Keikelius’ rule had encouraged. His slow ascent to power had been all of his doing. His marriage to Circenia had been a suggestion of his father, but he had no more stated something Keikelius already knew than he had stated the fact of the sky being blue. Plans, trade agreements, massive conglomerations, and takeovers. Land he had earned by marriage and right, money and taxes that he was entitled to for the years of service he had put into nurturing provinces…
Gone.
All because of the words of an arrogant, insolent, mediocre heir.
The rage and frustration bubbled over into a second terrifying display. With a sharp growl of fury, the table of food and wine crashed to the floor, fruit rolling across the stone and disappearing into different corners of the room. Wine, water, and milk beaded against rugs and the stone floor. The falling table set off a chain reaction, a large standing vase shattering to the floor across the path to the halls and the rest of the manor’s rooms.
Turning sharply on his heel, Keikelius faced Elias once more. “Do you have any idea what you have cost us, Elias? Everything that you have cost us, cost me? Your mother? Your sisters? Do you have any idea where your insolence and recklessness has left us?” Keikelius’ voice rose higher, louder, angrier with each word. “Forty years of work, Elias. Forty years of my own hard work because you found it wise to sink Athenian ships and cost the country money? Forty years plus the years of toil your grandfather and his father put in to make Stravos what it is? And you piss it away in an impulsive and reckless grab for the crown? I never taught you to be reckless, Elias,” Keikelius snapped sharply.
“I like to think that I taught you patience and diligence. We all wanted you on the throne but not at the cost of the family,” the Stravos man continued, taking a threatening step forward once more. “You have cost this family nearly everything we had. You’ve cost your mother her status. You’ve cost your sisters advantageous marriages and any chance of marrying upward. You’ve buried our name so far out at sea that the fucking Kracken won’t touch us! Leave it!” Keikelius suddenly snapped at the rush of servants that ran into the room, starting to try and clean up the mess.
“Leave it or you’re all fired.”
The scrambling, rushing of feet out of the room was like music to his ears. Keikelius’ gaze still hadn’t been torn from Elias. Nostrils flaring, Keikelius rubbed sharply at his chin and then his temple, working on finding another calming breath. Just one. Just one more and he wouldn’t ravage the remainder of the parlor. “But you know what, Elias?” Keikelius continued, “You’re going to fix this. All of it. You’re going to pay for every owl you have lost this family. You are going to pay for every ship, every single loss of cargo from here on out.” The man slowly crouched in front of his son, trying to meet him eye to eye. “You’re going to fix this mess that you made or I will ensure that you never see a glimpse of that crown in your lifetime,” he said darkly, his voice almost nothing but a sharp hiss.
“Because I will make good on my word, Elias. I am not a man of lies and idle threats. You will pick yourself up off of this floor and you will find a way to repair the damage you have brought upon this family. Even if that means you bribe and steal your way into advantageous marriages with deep coffers for your sisters. Even if it means you earn not a drachmae for your trouble. You’re an intelligent man, Elias. I’m sure you can see your options spread out before you. Do what you have to do, but you have two options open to you,” Keikelius warned, moving his hands slightly out to either side in order to simulate the movement of a scale.
“You took the title as the head of this house, Elias, but this is still my domain. You think you’re the only one with deep, dark connections? You will either ensure that our titles are once more secured or you will find yourself in a watery grave so far out to sea that even Poseidon will never be able to claim your body. And if you come across the crown in the process, congratulations. But as of now, you owe me a debt that I will not release until every single owl is in my pocket,” Keikelius continued to hiss, dark eyes full of threats of a stormy ocean and suffocating depths that even Elias would never be able to escape. “Do with that what you will, Elias. Have I made myself clear?” the man noted with sharply clenched teeth, ready to strike his son a second time should he find it proper to come back at Keikelius with any sort of talk that was not ‘Yes, sir.’
And he would not be satisfied until he heard the words of affirmation from Elias’ mouth. Rising slowly to his feet, he didn’t bother to shake out the ache in his hand. It was pleasant considering the pain’s source. Keikelius turned from Elias once more, moving across the floor to pick up the last goblet, Danae’s, that had been discarded onto the floor in his fury. With it firmly in hand, he grasped one of the metal pitchers, lifting it up and silently delighting to see there was a cup or two worth of wine still in the bottom. Pouring himself a third glass of the liquid, he knocked it back sharply, taking his time in once more savoring the burn.
He would wait, too. He would wait until Elias said something. Anything at all. And then he would make further reparations for Elias’ actions. There was a thin line of patience that would be tread until Elias did exactly as his father had said. Keikelius would not take an argument. Not after Elias had single-handedly thrown his own family to the wolves. Whether or not that crown settled in his lap or not, Keikelius would not accept anything else but his every demand, lest the Kingdom wanted to find a dead monarch sound asleep on his throne.
And Keikelius had been as truthful as they come. He would settle, nor would he truly rest until Elias had mended all that he had broken and paid his debts. There was no doubt in his mind that the consequences of not doing such things were far too high for even Elias to consider enduring.
Keikelius hard hardly spoken since the Senate meeting had completed. The Master of Trade had smiled, nodded, and given his vote without skipping a single beat. All in good faith and with promise of no treachery from him or his royal wife. The thought had settled in the back of his mind that Princess Circenia would be most affected by the loss of lands and titles. The moment the words had left his niece's mouth, Keikelius had started to count his lucky stars that Circenia would not add to the precarious nature of their sudden, lowered position.
His wife had a temper that could burn bridges and raze entire cities to the ground. This temperament had been entirely and completely alluring to Keikelius when the match had been made between Xanthos and Stravos. Despite Keikelius' ambitions, the hope had been to foster some warm and strong connection between the two powerful families. Clearly, Keikelius had failed his family in that regard. Better, his own son had broken down each and every bridge that Keiklius had spent his entire life building between his family and the others around them.
Staring out the side of the carriage that carried Elias, Chara, and Circenia, Keikelius only vaguely wondered where his other daughter had gotten off to. There had been some mention that the girl had run off upon arrival, to which Keikelius truly couldn't give the energy to worry. There were bigger things to worry about than the flippant nature of his youngest child. The horse that Keikelius had ridden to the Senate meeting trailed quietly behind, having been attached to the back of the carriage.
Lifting his gaze, Keikelius silently observed the sky above them. The bright blue hue was somewhat cheery for Keikelius' tastes. He still preferred the clouded skies and winded high seas to the clear sunshine that had graced them on this day. It was as if the gods were laughing at the misfortune of the House of Stravos. Now dissolved in the wake of the quiet treachery of his eldest son.
Keikelius brought his hand up to his lips, trailing his thumb under the curve of his bottom lip. Falling deeper into his thoughts, his mind raced from thought to thought and plan to plan. How did they fix what his ballsy, mistempered heir had broken? It wasn't the same as patching the hull of a ship or mending a chiton. If the assertions of the Princess had been true, which Keikelius was inclined to believe, then there would be little that could be done by way of deals and agreements.
If Elias had truly committed treason, there was little that anyone could do to save the Stravos family from ruin. And ruin was to come with the sudden loss of lands, taxes, and business that had been removed from their grasp in a few simple words. Still, Keikelius' expression didn't shift from the usual mask of boredom and silent contempt for everything going on around him. The carriage was eerily quiet. Even Chara had found that now was not the time to launch into conversation that no one would pay proper attention to.
Keikelius briefly recalled the events of his young life. Karkos of Stravos had been a tough force to reckon with. Add in the fact that Karkos had liked to raise his hand to his son when the young man slipped up in his own dealings, and Keikelius had endured a number of factors that had shaped his entire person when coupled with his military service and business experience. It had happened so many times and so often that it had become a normal feeling for Keikelius. The bruises under his tunics and chitons had been easy to hide, and even if they hadn’t, most had attributed it to boyish clumsiness, and then later to a test of strength and meddle with his military training.
One moment, in particular, stood out to Keikelius, however. The man had been fourteen at the time and the words that had come out of his mouth at a particular business meeting had earned him a number of licks with the whip. The failure and loss of a business prospect never sat well with Karkos and it had been vital that Keikelius recall his mistakes. So that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t find himself so foolish ever again. For the moment, Keikelius could recall clearly the feeling of leather striking his skin. He shifted in the seat of the carriage, pretending that he was simply settling into a more comfortable position.
Never had Keikelius been forced to make such an example of Elias. His had had never been forced in that direction, with any of his children. Keikelius liked to think that his sharp tongue and idle threats had been enough. He honestly thought that he had trained Elias better. The passing of his position as the head of house had been a symbol of good faith and trust in his son as Keikelius moved to take a higher position that suited his experience and ambitions. Not to mention, he had had every intention of keeping his son under his thumb. But this situation was absolutely abhorrent.
He briefly recalled the threat that Elias had thrown at the princess before he had been escorted out of the senate.
‘Watch your back, Princess. This isn’t over yet.’
Elias had even had the balls to threaten a member of immediate royalty. And the thought had only served to make Keikelius tense as he’d let his gaze bore into the back of his only son, flanked on both sides by guards instructed to remove the Stravos family from the Senate meeting. He had been granted his ability to remain, his title as Master of Trade superseding any title of, or lack thereof, nobility. It had been clear that a few senators had been none too keen on the idea of Keikelius being able to remain. Already, Keikelius knew, there would be rumors that father and son had been working together to take down the royal family by way of treason. An entire untruth, surely, but one that would spread like wildfire.
Even his queen of gossip and information would be no match for the vile words of courtiers and senators, for servants and civilians. Keikelius had to drop his gaze from the sky just to keep his lip from curling in utter disgust. The facade of calm and poise remained despite the annoying jostle of the carriage and the uncomfortable silence that had befallen the entire family.
It seemed, however, that Chara had suddenly found her voice. “Papa?” the woman questioned boldly, watching her father with a mildly resigned expression. “What is to happen now that we’ve been stripped of our nobility?”
His daughter was asking the real questions, it seemed. And truth be told, Keikelius didn’t actually know. Still, he couldn’t leave her with nothing at all. “We’ve lost our titles and our lands,” Keikelius noted calmly, dark gaze fixed on his eldest child, “This means we will earn no taxes from our tenants or the provinces’ business dealings. We no longer hold any land, so our wood supply for building ships have been removed from our inventories. In addition, we will no longer make anything off much of what our business was exporting. It is likely that the noble families can, and will choose every non-Stravos ship possible to use to ferry their goods. Our ports would have been stripped from us were they not the property of our personal business. We hold our wealth from our personal business, but that will only take us so far without bankrupting us. Should we find ships damaged or unfit to sail, the cost of repairs alone will eat at our coffers. Our only true saving grace is that our ports will still garner taxes,” Keikelius’ voice didn’t waver. In truth, the man sounded nothing but normal and matter-of-fact. There was no use in sugarcoating the entire fact that the Stravos were now penniless and bankrupt.
Elias had seen to that.
Chara seemed to flinch, turning her gaze away from the family to glance out the carriage, clearly frustrated by the course of events. There had been hopes of an advantageous marriage for the beauty. Especially on the part of her father. His own little princess deserved only the best and had King Minas had any male heirs, Keikelius would have long offered Chara’s hand to the crown prince. If anything, Chara had the most sense of both her siblings despite her overall nature. At this point, Keikelius would have been pleased to have solidified any marriage at all for her. It would have saved her the disgrace of losing her title due to her brother’s own misplaced ambitions.
Elias hadn’t simply bankrupted the family. Suddenly, any chances of his siblings, and even Elias himself, marrying well were off the table. Very few would associate with the Stravos and the cost of a dowry for one or both of Keikelius’ daughters would only further their despondency. His little girls would be forced to marry lower than their true status, and that alone was enough to start the kindling fires of anger in the pit of the man’s stomach. None of them deserved what had been handed to them at that Senate meeting. Elias, sure. Had Princess Persephone not stripped the family of their nobility, Keikelius would have petitioned to strip Elias of his without a second thought.
The boy was too rash. And he was just that, a boy. And he would remain a boy in Keikelius’ eyes until he showed some sense of maturity that was clearly lacking in all regards. His son had the looks and the grace, but Keikelius wasn’t convinced he truly had the intelligence to keep his mouth shut and his hands out of things they didn’t belong in, especially when it counted. Had Elias truly wanted to advocate for the throne, there were a number of different, less destructive means in which to take it. Whether Elias’ actions were true or false in the eyes of the Senate, little mattered now.
All was said and all was done.
Keikelius let his gaze rest on his son for a single moment, only giving a slight nod of acknowledgment. It was enough to give Elias a sense of peace. A sense that he was being let off, once again, with few consequences for his actions. Perhaps the loss of his titles was enough of a punishment. Perhaps Elias would see it that way. The punishment fit the crime, surely. But the punishment still didn’t fit the crimes that the ladies of the Stravos house had not committed. The family was punished for the sins of the son and that only added to the licking fire that seemed to curl up along his limbs now.
Gods, the carriage needed to move faster.
Falling entirely silent, Keikelius went back to watching the world move outside of their carriage. Already, he needed to figure out how to keep the family afloat financially. Would they have to sell their large manor? The barony house in Lyncestia? Would they have to sell horses, ships, art? And what would happen with Circenia?
That fear struck harder than he had expected it to. Circenia had married him for his wealth, and while the two had eventually fallen for each other… Keikelius shifted once more. There was a precarious balance that had been struck between him and his wife. She was able to spend to her heart’s content because they had had the means. And now? Now they couldn’t spend more than was absolutely necessary if they didn’t want to be living on the streets within a few months. Of course, Keikelius was to worry about the strain this loss was going to put on his relationship with his wife. He could only hope that her love for him ran deeper than her love for his wealth. Former wealth. To her, he could have just become nothing but a penniless lowborn man with little clout name save for the title he still health in the senate.
Not to mention that the loss would now affect his ability to do his job. The reputation he held had been smashed to pieces.
It was with that thought that the carriage came to a sudden halt in front of the manor. Taking a sobering breath, Keikelius rose from the carriage, stepping down onto solid ground. He was careful to help Chara down, keeping a firm hold on her and ensuring that she didn’t twist anything. Keikelius even went so far as to straighten a fold of her gorgeous chiton. Giving a small, gentle smile, he touched her chin affectionately before letting go and putting his focus on Circenia. He felt somber as he helped his wife down out of the carriage, his hands on her waist. He took a moment to lock eyes with her, trying to convey that they would be alright. He hadn’t worked out the minutiae of the entire situation, but that would take a few days to properly sort and assess. For now, he simply needed her to remain calm and firm in the face of their sudden adversity. That was truly all he was going to ask of her, if you didn’t count her staying as far from her brother as possible. Keikelius knew his wife’s temper enough to know that, if given the chance, she would leave a path of destruction in her wake.
There was a brief moment where Keikelius allowed his daughter and his wife to go ahead, waiting for Elias to descend from the carriage and join him on the ground. Keeping his hands at his sides, Keikelius turned and started to follow the ladies into the home, ensuring that Elias remained close behind him. The man paid absolutely no mind to the servants who were waiting there. No doubt they would hear the news shortly. No doubt many of them would be let go in an attempt to save the family a few drachmae. Good. He didn’t really care for a few of them anyway. Useless was what they were.
Just days before Circenia had been begging to fire a few of them. Keikelius wasn’t sure that the pretense under which their staff would be removed would truly be what she was hoping for, however.
Striding into the home and into the initial, warm living space, Keikelius glanced once at Circenia and Chara as they lingered by a table of food that had been spread out for their lunch. The table was spread with a hearty assortment of plums, figs, dates, olives, cheeses, breads, mutton, and fresh venison. The food had been placed neatly on expensive metal tableware, looking like something out of an art piece. The table had been covered with delicate crimson fabric edged with gold embroidery. Various pitchers of liquid were settled at one corner, accompanied by five goblets. One for each member of the Stravos family.
Reaching for one, Keikelius silently poured Circenia a glass of summer wine and passed it off to her. He poured a second for Chara and then glanced about the table of food. Sustenance wasn’t really on his list of priorities. The pause was meant to let him bide his time. To let him quell the increasing, agitating feeling of rage that had clung to him ever since he’d watched Elias as he was escorted from the Senate. Reaching over, he took an olive between large fingers, popping it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully as he glanced back toward the wine.
It was eerily quiet and Keikelius could only imagine why. The tension in the air was almost palpable, but Keikelius still hadn’t addressed the entire situation. If anything, there was an air of assumption that Elias was going to meet no trouble whatsoever. Keikelius had half a mind to let that notion hang in the air and along Elias’ shoulders.
But Keikelius truly wasn’t that type of man. The businessman hadn’t made a name for himself in being brutal and without mercy for absolutely nothing. There were things Keikelius had done under the noses of his own family that would likely shock, awe, and terrify all at once. Besides, Keikelius truly wasn’t in the mood to toy with his son in the way he might have deserved. No, he wanted to build that air of confidence between them. That while the worst had truly happened, things could still be mended. LIke a blacksmith mending a broken blade. The Stravos still wouldn’t falter under the weight of their sentence.
Pouring himself a glass of the same summer wine, the Stravos man knocked the liquid back all at once, taking not even a breath to enjoy the liquid. Instead, he enjoyed the burn as it trailed down into the pit of his stomach, turning the roaring fire into a raging inferno. Taking yet another goblet, Keikelius filled it with wine and turned toward his son, approaching him slowly. He passed the cup off to Elias with a slight nod, moving back to the table to pour himself yet another glass.
Finally, he spoke to Elias, entirely ignoring the fact that his daughter and wife were in the room. “A valiant effort today, Elias,” he conceded, lifting his cup as if to give a toast. Whether Elias would drink the wine or not had yet to be seen and Keikelius truly paid no mind to little movements such as those. Instead, he fixed his son with a placid gaze and approached him. “How about a toast, Elias? To new paths and new beginnings and to our new position,” the corners of his lips even turned up into an interested smile, dark eyes alight with the promise of his words. Shaking his head, the smile still not leaving his face, he clapped Elias on the shoulder as he took a large swig of his wine.
Motioning one of the lingering servants over, he discarded the goblet into the woman’s hands with a slight nod. Turning his attention back to Elias.
There was literally no warning, no pretense, to Keikelius movements. The father’s grip suddenly tightened on Elias’ shoulder, almost in an effort to dig his fingers in. Surely, if he’d been something akin to a lion, Keikelius would have shredded the fabric of the man’s garb. Then he was moving swiftly, slightly crouched as, with his full strength, his fist connected with Elias’ stomach in an effort to knock all of the breath from his son’s lungs. Knowing just what it felt like to be punched so hard, Keikelius shifted himself to stand taller, holding a stunned, limp Elias against his shoulder.
Keikelius ignored the shriek of Chara from his side. The servant even reeled back with wide eyes, dropping the cup of wine onto the floor in front of her.
Rage lacing every word, Keikelius threaded his fingers into his son’s hair then, gripping it tight as he pulled Elias’ head back to look at him. The man could have vomited, Keikelius didn’t really care about that right then. Instead, he fixed his son with a sharp, venomous gaze. “The next time you pull a stunt like that, my son, I will lay your entrails out on the floor of this room and watch as the light leaves your eyes. And I’ll go to the hangman's noose delighted that I rid myself of the disgrace to my name, my father’s name, and my grandfather’s name.”
Without another word, Keikelius was dropping his son into a heap on the floor, listening to the struggle that came with attempting to get your breath after a hit such as that. Gritting his teeth, his features twisted with a rage that no one in the family had ever seen, Keikelius glared down at his son, the trembling of his hands the only sign that he was, in fact, reigning in the urge to simply cut Elias’ throat and be done with it. There would be little coming back from a disgrace such as the one that Elias had forced onto his family, and Keikelius would have happily greeted Hades without a second thought if it meant that he could have quelled the entirety of the events hot on their trail.
“Circenia, Chara,” Keikelius said very carefully, “I think it best you leave Elias and I alone,” his voice wavered only the slightest bit, carefully reigned anger edging a slight bite to his words. “Now.” He didn’t wait for either woman to leave, his glare still remaining rigid on the form of his son on the floor before him. That brief, hot flash of memory. The life of a soldier had been frigid, damning his already brutal and dangerous tendencies to a furtherment that only his stoic composure and calm demeanor could contain.
Letting out a sharp, shallow breath, Keikelius turned away sharply, stalking toward the table of food. No, it wasn’t enough to curb the anger. He’d bloodied men for far less. But this was his son and the extent of his power only went so far. The boy was a grown man and was considerably younger than Keikelius himself. Any further blows, regardless of the desire to keep Elias gasping in a heap, would be met with firm resistance. Bracing his hands against the table, he bowed his head, his shoulders tense, his body ready to spring into action at the slightest movement.
Desperate to find purchase on something, fingers gripped at the crimson tablecloth, shifting the plates slightly on the table while Keikelius worked on calming his own breathing. His own temper. There was much to be done, still. There was much to situate and sort and organize. It became a low chant in his mind. Calm resolve. Even breaths. Loss of sight with absolutely no sense of feeling. That was what he needed at that moment. Briefly, he pictured the calming hands of his wife, attempting to find anything to cling to that would end the sharp tang of rage still palpating the air.
And it didn’t subside. If anything, the rage grew into a firm burning. The thought of everything lost in just a few words of his idiot child. A child for all intents and purpose. A petulant bastard that he’d suddenly started to wish hadn’t made it to term. He would have had no heir if the only future presented to them had been this one. He would have rather seen the child born still for all the hell Elias had caused Keikelius. Forty years of work. Of Keikelius’ own blood and sweat and persistent resolve. The Stravos had been strong with Karkos. But they hadn’t flourished in the same way that Keikelius’ rule had encouraged. His slow ascent to power had been all of his doing. His marriage to Circenia had been a suggestion of his father, but he had no more stated something Keikelius already knew than he had stated the fact of the sky being blue. Plans, trade agreements, massive conglomerations, and takeovers. Land he had earned by marriage and right, money and taxes that he was entitled to for the years of service he had put into nurturing provinces…
Gone.
All because of the words of an arrogant, insolent, mediocre heir.
The rage and frustration bubbled over into a second terrifying display. With a sharp growl of fury, the table of food and wine crashed to the floor, fruit rolling across the stone and disappearing into different corners of the room. Wine, water, and milk beaded against rugs and the stone floor. The falling table set off a chain reaction, a large standing vase shattering to the floor across the path to the halls and the rest of the manor’s rooms.
Turning sharply on his heel, Keikelius faced Elias once more. “Do you have any idea what you have cost us, Elias? Everything that you have cost us, cost me? Your mother? Your sisters? Do you have any idea where your insolence and recklessness has left us?” Keikelius’ voice rose higher, louder, angrier with each word. “Forty years of work, Elias. Forty years of my own hard work because you found it wise to sink Athenian ships and cost the country money? Forty years plus the years of toil your grandfather and his father put in to make Stravos what it is? And you piss it away in an impulsive and reckless grab for the crown? I never taught you to be reckless, Elias,” Keikelius snapped sharply.
“I like to think that I taught you patience and diligence. We all wanted you on the throne but not at the cost of the family,” the Stravos man continued, taking a threatening step forward once more. “You have cost this family nearly everything we had. You’ve cost your mother her status. You’ve cost your sisters advantageous marriages and any chance of marrying upward. You’ve buried our name so far out at sea that the fucking Kracken won’t touch us! Leave it!” Keikelius suddenly snapped at the rush of servants that ran into the room, starting to try and clean up the mess.
“Leave it or you’re all fired.”
The scrambling, rushing of feet out of the room was like music to his ears. Keikelius’ gaze still hadn’t been torn from Elias. Nostrils flaring, Keikelius rubbed sharply at his chin and then his temple, working on finding another calming breath. Just one. Just one more and he wouldn’t ravage the remainder of the parlor. “But you know what, Elias?” Keikelius continued, “You’re going to fix this. All of it. You’re going to pay for every owl you have lost this family. You are going to pay for every ship, every single loss of cargo from here on out.” The man slowly crouched in front of his son, trying to meet him eye to eye. “You’re going to fix this mess that you made or I will ensure that you never see a glimpse of that crown in your lifetime,” he said darkly, his voice almost nothing but a sharp hiss.
“Because I will make good on my word, Elias. I am not a man of lies and idle threats. You will pick yourself up off of this floor and you will find a way to repair the damage you have brought upon this family. Even if that means you bribe and steal your way into advantageous marriages with deep coffers for your sisters. Even if it means you earn not a drachmae for your trouble. You’re an intelligent man, Elias. I’m sure you can see your options spread out before you. Do what you have to do, but you have two options open to you,” Keikelius warned, moving his hands slightly out to either side in order to simulate the movement of a scale.
“You took the title as the head of this house, Elias, but this is still my domain. You think you’re the only one with deep, dark connections? You will either ensure that our titles are once more secured or you will find yourself in a watery grave so far out to sea that even Poseidon will never be able to claim your body. And if you come across the crown in the process, congratulations. But as of now, you owe me a debt that I will not release until every single owl is in my pocket,” Keikelius continued to hiss, dark eyes full of threats of a stormy ocean and suffocating depths that even Elias would never be able to escape. “Do with that what you will, Elias. Have I made myself clear?” the man noted with sharply clenched teeth, ready to strike his son a second time should he find it proper to come back at Keikelius with any sort of talk that was not ‘Yes, sir.’
And he would not be satisfied until he heard the words of affirmation from Elias’ mouth. Rising slowly to his feet, he didn’t bother to shake out the ache in his hand. It was pleasant considering the pain’s source. Keikelius turned from Elias once more, moving across the floor to pick up the last goblet, Danae’s, that had been discarded onto the floor in his fury. With it firmly in hand, he grasped one of the metal pitchers, lifting it up and silently delighting to see there was a cup or two worth of wine still in the bottom. Pouring himself a third glass of the liquid, he knocked it back sharply, taking his time in once more savoring the burn.
He would wait, too. He would wait until Elias said something. Anything at all. And then he would make further reparations for Elias’ actions. There was a thin line of patience that would be tread until Elias did exactly as his father had said. Keikelius would not take an argument. Not after Elias had single-handedly thrown his own family to the wolves. Whether or not that crown settled in his lap or not, Keikelius would not accept anything else but his every demand, lest the Kingdom wanted to find a dead monarch sound asleep on his throne.
And Keikelius had been as truthful as they come. He would settle, nor would he truly rest until Elias had mended all that he had broken and paid his debts. There was no doubt in his mind that the consequences of not doing such things were far too high for even Elias to consider enduring.