The first thing Mihail had done after his meeting with Nethis had been to disappear to the cove and shoot some lonely arrows, the time designed to clear his head and yet managing to do nothing of the sort.
The second thing Mihail had done after his meeting with Nethis had been to pen a letter to the youngest of his sisters requesting that the pair of them meet, a petition that she accept an audience with him on such short notice, for he had so much to express to her. It had left plenty to the imagination, with little indication of what the subject of their meeting would be. Evras, however, was observant when it came to her siblings, and he had no doubts that she would easily be able to note that all was not well when it came to the baby of the family.
His appearance was sombre, the shades he had chosen darker still than his usual inclinations, the deepest black of those obsidian ringlets which framed his face, today pulled back and leaving him gaunt, yet somehow more handsome in his slenderness than he might have ever looked before. It was the irony of misfortune, he had thought, the silver lining that the more optimistic would have found in any situation. But he was not so bright and cheery, and he would never claim the title, so fixated on his cynicism and pettiness. When sorrow came knocking on one's door, then all was at its worst, and that was the philosophy that Mihail not only wholeheartedly believed himself but spread to others whenever the opportunity arose. There was some benefit to the career he so falsely promoted for himself.
That half-distracted look and side-smirk that was so common to him had disappeared, now replaced with an almost inebriated expression - it was no lie, Mihail would not deny drinking. He had returned from the cliffside, locked himself within his chambers and silenced himself for the next few hours with his stash of opium. The sensation of both floating and sinking and the sense of euphoria which washed over him all at once had been the ideal distraction from his state of distress. Hours later he remembered drinking, though the specifics of his day were lost on him.
The Kotas home was not a place he often visited, and the despair on his face turned to evident impatience as he hovered awkwardly in the entrance, waiting for the guards to come to the logical decision that he was no threat and for a maid to return with news that his sister would allow him in. It was the kind of precaution he might have scoffed at and deemed unnecessary had his state allowed him, yet no derisive remarks left his mouth on that occasion, Mihail only waited, a hand hitched up on his hip and a mild pout of annoyance on his lips. Perhaps a part of his mind thought it reasonable that he should be made to wait, faintly dishevelled and haggard that he appeared. Once the young girl had reappeared, however, he was permitted entry into the home which he had not visited in close to six years, the comment that his sister was feeling somewhat under the weather blocked by the drunkenness and distress which fuelled his current actions.
"Evras," he called out to the dark-haired woman, the end of the word ever so slightly slurred. He moved to hug her as he always did, though a reluctance tugged at the back of his mind and he stopped himself, the look on his face fierce, almost accusatory. "Did you know? Did you know?"
Life had been uneventful for Evras as of late. Ever since her reconciliation with Zanon, and their recent visit to the harbor, she had stayed indoors for much, especially when she had to accustom herself to Dion not being around. She had taken up her daily task of going to the temples every morning to pray, before assisting the Queen in the daily to-do's of the residential upkeep, especially when the King and Vangelis was preparing to go across the seas very soon. It didn't help that she had been feeling light headed as of late, especially with the Artamisios head getting to her.
So for the safety of all, Evras had been curled in bed when she had received Mihail's missive a few days prior, requesting her presence with utmost importance. While other's may get worried at such insistence from their youngest sibling, Evras was not highly worried. She knew Mihail well, and she knew of his propensity to exaggerate in certain times. Sure that he simply wished to update her on all news regarding their family and himself, Evras had returned him a note saying he can visit today itself.
When the maid came to inform Evras of her brother's presence at the gates of Kotas (for her husband had - much to Evras's irritation - limited the visits of her family to the Kotas residences), the woman had been quick to admit Mihail's entrance, instructing the servants to bring her youngest sibling to the sitting room. At the same time, she changed out of her night shift, for she had spent the morning in bed, and slipped on a simple mauve and black chiton, fastening it with two fibulae's on either shoulders, before chinching her waist with a woven girdle. The remaining material was left to make sleeves down her arms, and she gave her dark hair a quick brush or two, before heading quickly down to the sitting room barefooted, eschewing all forms of acessories.
Surprised that Mihail had not entered yet when she stepped in, the woman instructed a servant to fetch a tray of watered down wine and figs for herself and her brother. It was just as the maid left, did the voice of her brother make the woman turn, her smile half-frozen when she picked up the slurred tone. Not given enough time to react however, Evras had extended her arms in preparation to receive his hug, only to frown in surprise when he seemed to stop himself, and then cast her an accusatory glare.
"What am I supposed to know, Mihail?" she asked, curiosity evident in her tone. Her dark eyes swirled with confusion, cocking her head as she continued."What are you going on about? And why do you smell like you dunked yourself in a vat of mead?"
"I was thirsty," Mihail answered his sister's third query, momentarily struggling to focus his eyes on the woman towards which he was usually so amicable. It was, perhaps, unfair to direct his anger at Evras when she had absolutely nothing to do with the matter which was causing him such distress, but he was too angry and too drunk to care. Instead, he moved past her to throw himself down on a kline, falling back and pressing a hand to his forehead in despair.
With a hooded expression, he stared up at her through the few curled strands of hair which had escaped from their restraints and now hung in his eyes. For a moment he considered enquiring whether or not she had sent someone for drinks, though the thought did not bode well, given how surprised she had appeared by his current inebriated state. Thus, he attempted to concentrate on her first two questions, trying to recall the exact events of the previous day's meeting precisely, although he knew full well he would now never be able to forget his confrontation with Nethis. The conversation would be engrained in his mind for the rest of eternity. "Yesterday..."
"Nethis called me to meet with her. I assumed it was regarding that girl - Euphemia - and that she would attempt to deter me from wishing to court her because of her status. I was not wrong." It seemed an innocent enough starter to the tale, and there was a hint of melancholy in his voice as he spoke, which his sister would no doubt take to be for the girl, and not how he intended it. "She offered me an incentive. Information that I did not know before this day. She had documents. Proof."
More serious, he propped himself up on one elbow to look at her properly, the sadness in his voice replaced with full tears now, streaming down his reddening cheeks. "I'm a peasant, Evras! My name is meaningless, and my blood useless! A stupid, useless, worthless peasant." Unable to maintain eye contact with her now, so humiliated was he by the situation at hand, Mihail buried his face into a cushion, refusing to look at her. Evras may well have held a reputation as the kindest of the Thanasi family, but he did not think even she would accept him with this new knowledge in mind.
There was one matter which had been pressing on his mind since the start of this ordeal just a day earlier; something which, to Mihail, mattered more than the simple matter of his adoption. He peeked a gaze over the top of the cushion, sniffing heavily, that strong stutter from his early youth momentarily returning as he stumbled through his words. "Th...th-at's why M...that's why M...m-other hated m-me, isn't it? I'm not a Th...Th-anasi. I'll have to m...m...live somewhere else. Nethisa." Wiping his nose on the cushion he clutched, he waited for Evras to say anything by way of reassurance. "D-do you have any wine? Or...stronger?"
His first answer to her third query made Evras frown immediately. Being thirsty was not an appropriate answer for sounding and smelling as if he's spent a whole night at a tavern, and if what she knew of her youngest sibling still stood true, Mihail never went anywhere without looking perfectly coiffed in every angle. That in itself was enough to make the young princess question her brother's visit, especially when she noticed how the brother she was oft most closest to struggle to meet her eye.
A million questions flared in her mind, but none of which could explain his actions as of now. Too surprised to react as he more or less brushed past her, Evras's frown deepened as she watched Mihail throw himself on a kline, and looking for all the world as if the world had ended, his wordless emotions scaring her even more. "Mihail, tell me right this instance, what is going on?" A million thoughts ran through her head. Had something happened to one of her sisters? Had bad news befallen Nethis on her way to Taengea? Was something wrong with their father? Or was Mihail simply being himself and had been dumped by someone else the night before?
Picking up her skirts, Evras took the seat next to her brother, about to push for an answer when he started speaking. Euphemia was a name she remembered - a maid working in the Kotas household that Mihail had found himself quite enamoured with, to the horror of their two elder sisters. Assuming that Nethis had forcefully told Mihail to end his silly infatuation with the servant girl however, what Evras had not expected, was for the news that Mihail dropped.
The youngest sister looked as surprised as a child caught with their hand in a jar of sweets, her lips dropping to form a little gape. In her wildest dreams, she would never have imagined any of her sisters held such information... whatever they were. But whatever they were, they had obviously caused Mihail great distress, from the way tears streamed from his eyes.
Her chest lurched, and on instinct, Evras shifted her seat to place her arm around her youngest sibling, a familiar way in which she offered him comfort even when he was younger and had scraped a knee and thought it would scar him for life. "What documents, Mihail?" she tried to get an explanation from him, yet to no avail. With his emotions in a mess, Evras waved away the servants who had tried to return with the drinks, and hissed for the door to be closed. Even if it was true, she wanted no one else to hear of this, much less her husband's family. So she tightened her hold around his shoulder until he straightened, and then frownedmore at his stumbling words.
"No wine for you." she said in a firm tone. "And who said Mother hated you? None of us do. If Nethis is attempting to sway you away from a marriage to a servant girl, it is for your own benefit. If she did not care for you, do you truly think she'd care who you married?" she tried to remind. Using the back of her sleeves, Evras tried to wipe away the trail of tears on his cheeks. "Now could you please, tell me what these documents are? Nethis is due to leave for Taengea, and I do not think that even if I took the fastest horse to the docks, I'll be able to catch her, so you'll have to explain yourself to me, Mihail. What happened yesterday?"
To believe that Mihail was not her brother.... but a peasant? That was something Evras wanted firm, concrete proof of, and she was unlikely to believe the words of her brother half-drunk on too much spirits and in an obviously bad emotional state.
The way Evras eased her arm around Mihail was a more comforting movement than he had expected, and he instinctively leaned into her touch, eyes half-shut. It was always his youngest sister who helped the best, and made it as though all was well with the world no matter what troubles existed. If anybody were still to care for him with peasant blood, then it would be her. It was a long and refreshing minute, and for a moment, the dull throbbing at the back of his mind vanished.
"Just a little?" he questioned, a slight whining tone to his voice as he stared up at Evras through his thick eyelashes. Wine was good. Wine had been the most calming and kindest friend he'd had since Nethis had shown him those adoption papers. It may not have been all that long, but the effects of the drink and his favoured drug were fast acting enough that time was no matter. They were keeping him strong, and the way his sister had shooed away the servant who had attempted to bring them that sweet liquid. "I was th...th-irsty. I need m...m-ore."
Promises and reassurances were nothing when Mihail both knew and felt them to be untrue, and the look on his face was both challenging and demanding of pity when Evras attempted to claim there was no hatred towards him. "M...m-mother did...Mother d-didn't want me. She said. She hated m-me. I hate her. Nethis only wants to secure th-the Tha...our family name, not her worthless y...y-youngest brother's love." It may not have been true, and he may have known that, cold as they might seem to outside viewers, his siblings all did appear to care for him, but anger distracted him from thinking Nethis had given him sight of the papers for any reason but to deter him from a foolish and non-political marriage.
Mihail had held off on fully answering her question until now but, as Evras continued speaking and implored him to give her some information, he shook his head. "She had papers. When she c...c-alled m-me to talk to her, she had th...th-em." It was almost a struggle to recall the events of that meeting, so eager had he been to wipe the last twenty-four hours from his mind, but snippets of the conversation kept leaking through, and he was mentally thrown back to the first moment she had shown him those documents. "Th...th-ey said one of us was adopted and, and Nethis c-claimed it was...it was m-me." The memory broke him back into tears, and he shifted his position once more to wrap his arms around his sister.
Some may well have considered him to be overreacting. The possibility that he might not have the same royal blood as the rest of his siblings was nothing good, but it was indeed not so abhorrent a thought that it merited such visible upset. Mihail only fussed so intensely for the belief that others would hear of the news and begin to spread the gossip - the case of his heritage itself panicked him internally, more private stress which only partially poured out onto his sister and had more manifested itself in the consumption of drink and drugs. The only concern he had for sharing any personal alarm with his sister was that some servant might rush in and later spread what she had seen with others and then he would not only be seen as a peasant, but as a frightened weakling. It brought him a new worry.
"The girl with the drinks. She saw. She knows," Mihail stuttered out, regaining some control over his words, enough to nearly leap up in his seat and feel his face flush red in dread. Servants were always the most efficient when it came to spreading rumours, and these were not ones he wanted sharing. "D-do something, Evras. She c-can't know." He lowered his voice, expression serious yet marred with tears which lost him his credibility. "She'll tell th...th-em all." It was an exaggeration, perhaps, but he would take no chances when it came to information so sensitive. Evras of Kotas
She knew better then to give in to Mihail's whining. While Evras may have been soft hearted when she was younger, ever since becoming a mother, she has learned the disadvantages of giving in to the whims and fancies of Dion, which would only elevate his complaints. Quickly nipping it in the bud was the best solution, and that was what Evras worked on these days, and she did the same to Mihail, firmly shaking her head. Instead, she mouthed for the servant to bring fresh water over, flavored with a little honey, but with none of the intoxicating elements of the liquid drank by most of Greece.
Turning her attention back to Mihail as he spoke, her brows knitted together in a frown. Whatever Mihail was telling now was news to her. Granted, she had been away from her family residence for a long time, even more of late ever since Zanon had stated his displeasure of keeping Dion away. Evras had fully been intending to make another visit back between when Nethis was away, but now it has made her wonder if she should just make a visit now.
The fact that Ulla would hate Mihail was... odd. Perhaps Mihail was too young to remember? Even Evras was somewhat young, but even then, she didn't remember their mother ever distinctly saying she hated any of her children, much less her youngest son. Mihail's mention of papers made Evras curious, and internally, the woman cursed the fact that their eldest sister has now sailed away to Taengea. The mystery would take till Nethis return to untangle... but if it was true, this wasn't something she wanted anyone else knowing about.
Looking up just in time to see the servant entering with chalices of honeyed fresh water, she picked the two liquid vessals off the tray, and motioned at the girl to keep silent, sending her on her way, before handing one to Mihail, placing her own on a side table. "The servants we hire here keep utmost secrecy of the royal family, worry naught." she calmed firstly, urging Mihail to take a drink first before she addressed the rest of what he had said.
"Whatever Nethis had said... how certain is our eldest sister that the child referred to within the papers is you? Is your name explicitly stated on them?" Ever the logical one, Evras waited, her eyes on Mihail for his answer. "I may be young myself, but I do not recall Mother ever stating her hatred for any of us. And if Nethis does 'hate' you as you say, why would she bother securing your future with a marriage? She could have easily casted you out and disown you as a Thanasi offspring. That seems to be more a callous behavior, then telling you whatever she has said."
It seemed as though Evras was intent on forbidding Mihail the delight of some of the sweet wine which would relieve his worry, and he made a noise in response to her objection somewhat akin to a grunted whine. Nevertheless, he gladly took the goblet of honeyed water Evras lifted from the returning servant's tray, thankful that at least something was being provided to quench his thirst - he was so thirsty suddenly; he kept drinking and drinking, but the dryness of his throat only worsened with each taste. He sipped at the liquid weakly, as though the mere act of doing so would take all of his energy, almost reluctant to admit that he enjoyed it close to as much as the wine.
"Y...y-you c-can't trust anyone," he objected, gaze fixed on the doorway through which the woman had left. It was not necessarily untrue. The household in which both Evras and Mihail had been raised was not so much one which taught the notion of truth itself, but which taught that trust was a very fickle thing, and he had always kept that knowledge as a firm warning in the back of his mind. "We all have spies. Nethis, Th...Th-thea, Dysius. M-me. I do not doubt Zanon does."
He was bombarded with questions then. It was nothing unexpected: this was no matter that could be brought to a close with a simpering smile and assurance that all was well. Mihail could not blame his sister for all she wished to know, but his head was aching, and his thoughts were clouded, and it took him a moment to process her words before he could answer the individual queries.
The young man downed the rest of the saccharine liquid, reaching across the arm of the kline to set it down again on the ground beside them. It was having the calming effect on him that he supposed Evras had envisioned, his words starting to come out more smoothly and his thoughts feeling somehow less broken. He was taking his time, attempting to recall the papers exactly as he had seen them. ”Th-there was no name. But Nethis c…c-claimed I was th-the child and she knows.” How his eldest sister was allegedly meant to be sure of this fact Mihail did not know, but he had always had faith her and the knowledge she provided him. Given that she had been responsible for a large part of his upbringing, there felt a bond there which would have been betrayed had Nethis ever given Mihail information that was unequivocally false. ”I am certain.”
"M-mother..." Mihail frowned, unconvinced as Evras claimed that Mother had never expressed hatred towards any of her children. While he could not recall the words ever leaving her mouth so explicitly - she had died when he was ever so young, and some of his memories were almost wholly faded by now - there had never been any mistaking her demeanour nor her actions, and Mihail would never deny gratification when she had finally left them. It had always seemed so evident to him that she had not wanted her youngest, and he had stopped wanting her after his first few pleas early on had fallen on deaf ears. He would never once have wished the same fate to Nethis, though he snorted when it was suggested that she could have cast him out of the home had she truly hated him, heaving himself further upright and turning his gaze to meet his sister’s gaze. ”And she m-may as well have done so, th…th-though it would have been a blessing! Instead, she has only chosen worse. She needn’t disown m-me when I am nought but M…M-mihail of Nethisa now. Not even a lord.”
Her brother's judgement for now was likely skewed, at least from what Evras could see. Seeking for more wine to quench a thirst would be difficult, for the properties of the grape-made liquid would further intensify the sort of thirst he had no, so Evras was grateful when the younger Thanasi took the chalice with no complaint. The elder female watched him gulp the liquid now, and then sighed when he began speaking again.
In a way, he was not wrong. It was how most of them had been raised, the way in which their father and then Nethis had taught them. The Thanasi's worked with efficiency, but also to a certain extent, with stealth, for what they did may not necessarily always be acceptable by the general public. But the degee to which Mihail's suspicion ran now made Evras wince, as she reached out to pat his arm and nodded in a manner she hoped was soothing. He was not wrong, everyone had spies. As much as Evras loved her husband, she did not doubt the guards he had assigned to her was also reporting her daily doings to her husband, or at least a redacted version of it. Not that she had anything to hide, but Mihail's words held a point.
Listening carefully as her brother finally calmed down enough to speak clearly, Evras's brows knitted together as his explanation came out. While it was chunks of words spilling out in jumbles together, she manages to make sense of him through his punctured syllables, enough for her mind to race and question. "There was no name." Evras finally repeated, despite her brother's alledged certainty to matters. "Like it or not, you have been with us for as long as you've lived, and I do not think it matters whether or not you are a lord or of Nethisa - the world knows you to be Mihail of Thanasi, and Thanasi you will remain."
Her words were said with much conviction, her eyes glittering with the same strength her words had. "I do not think it matters, what blood runs in you, but you are our brother, and that Nethis has not tossed you out is evidence enough that she considers you her brother as well, papers or not." Her eyes roamed, the princess taking in the state of her brother's clothing, the kind of which she had never seen Mihail in. Always being the brother who cared the most of the state of his outfit and the way people see him, Mihails' current condition showed Evras that the boy was taking this way too much to heart. "Have you stayed out all night, then? Did you even have a proper chat with Nethis to find the thorough details of everything?"
In the eyes of most, Evras likely made a valid point. Without any name inscribed on the parchments he had so briefly seen, it was impossible for Mihail to have any true idea as to whether or not they had indeed referred to him. If the masses - if the servants - were to get ahold of the certificates, then it would be near impossible for them to spread the gossip with much certainty, and the young lord would be able to counter any such unsubstantiated rumours with little trouble.
But Mihail was not currently of the soundest mind, and the logic behind his sister's words fell on deaf ears. There may well have been nothing inked onto those papers which proved they referred to him, but his thoughts had been tainted with a blend of wine and opium and tragedy which was not yet willing to allow him to believe anything but the absolute worst. Besides, with the manner his misfortune currently twisted his words into useless stutters, it was unlikely he would be capable of forming any especially eloquent whispers. Despite Evras's efforts, it would be a while before he found himself entirely relaxed.
"The m-maids," Mihail objected once again, his warped mentality forcing him to fixate on the smallest details which might lead to his adopted downfall. "Th...th-they'll know I am of Nethisa." It was a half-hearted statement, however, hardly as enthusiastically melancholic as the rest of his comments. His sister's attempts at encouragement were working as they ever did, the hand on his arm reassuringly warm and her words soft enough that he was beginning to lose those uncomfortable trains of thought which damaged him so. His voice grew more level, a hint more certain of itself, and he let his breathing slow to a more reasonable beat. "I want to stay a Th... stay a Th-thanasi like y...y-you." It was ironic, perhaps, as Evras was the only one of his family who had changed her name already through her marriage, but it did not change her birth - the situation was perhaps an unexpected mirror of Mihail's. He stretched a hand out to take hers in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently in a show of gratitude. "I love you."
Reaching for the now empty goblet on the ground beside him, he attempted to sip the non-existent final dregs of water from its depths as he considered his status as a brother further, eyes momentarily shut in deliberation. Brother in name only, yet still a brother. It might take a while, but it seemed a concept he could eventually accept. He had been unknowingly doing so for a near quarter-century by then after all. "C-could I have another d...d-drink? It helps."
It was a long time since Mihail had stayed out all night. In recent years of his adulthood, he had been unable to resist a few trips to some of the shadier parts of the city, not to mention his brother's barony when he could bear the journey across water (Megaris was gloriously infamous for its suitability to such nighttime fancies). In recent days, however, he had not disappeared from the family home so much, most of his drinking done in the dark of his bedroom, where excessive refills were more than easily accessible. The only exit from the home he had made was his repeated visits to the beach. He had not had the opportunity to speak with Nethis further than their initial discussion.
"I went shooting. I had some wine. Smoked." Mihail leaned his head on the back frame of the couch, shaking it ever so slightly in response as he did. "I d-didn't go out; haven't left th...the house but to shoot. Nethis was already gone. Why? Can y...y-you tell?"