To some, this day is an average day in the Senate of Taengea. To others, this has been a day long in the making. Held two weeks after the successful attack on the Creed Enclave, this meeting of the most powerful men in Taengea might be seen as a logical and fair-minded meet. But little do its people know that steps have already been taken by a select few to ensure the outcome of its discussions... By the time the day is out, the murderer of King Zenon and Prince Zacharias will be named and shamed before their people...
This was no average day - at least not to Irakles.
Months and months of planning, detailing, late night discussions and many, many meals shared with long conversations to countless people led to this day. Irakles has spent way too long planning for it to all fall apart, and by all means and cautions, it will not. Not to him. He had been up late the night before, the candle light flickering lower and lower till Meena eventually came to get him in the late hours of the night, insisting that he got his rest. His health had been dipping as of late, with his servants scrambling to find remedies to cure him of his thinning hair. His chest felt heavy, but Irakles wrote it off as him worrying over the outcome.
Many who knew of his plans, have reminded him that he had no need to worry. He had laid his ground work, and the prince was nothing if not attentive to detail. He's spent many hours conversing with various lords and noble members of the Taengean Senate, not only drawing their interest and feeling them out, but at the same time also subtly feeding them all he had been experiencing with his nephew.
While in reality, he could see Stephanos improving in the way the young, inexperienced former prince ran the Kingdom, there was no reason for Irakles to mention that. Instead, the male played up his nephew's impulsive, brash behaviour, reminded many of the playboy, hoyden-like ways he used to behave while his father and Zacharias still lived, and made sure no one forgot that Olympia was showing way too early for her to have been chaste before marriage to Stephanos. All while always trailing off whenever other's asked if Stephanos was doing well with the work. Add that on top of the fact that he had been spending copious days in the palati, and that Elise herself had thrown her obvious support behind Irakles by outright inviting him to stay in the palati... none of it was out to make his nephew look good.
All just as he planned.
So no, Irakles was not intending to let today's Senate meet go out of hand. He had called for the meet today, a process he started two weeks earlier upon their semi-triumphant return from the gorge upon which they had set upon the Creed. Missives had been sent to all the noble families within Taengea, as well as the royal family,informing of the date of the meet. The details of why the meet was called was not informed - the prince did not see a need for informing them. Afterall, they did have their Senate meets happening every week. While the weekly meets were not attended by the noble houses all the time, the main Senate meet that happened once every 6 weeks would see an exodus of carriages from all corners of the Taengean kingdom arriving at the capitol to meet and discuss large matters. It was on this type of meeting that Irakles had sent missives to all noble houses, stressing the importance for all to attend, for there would be serious matters to be discussed, and the mystery behind the death of their King and former crown prince to be discussed.
But he had left it at that. No sense in allowing the tongues to fly when he couldn't be arround to prevent the information from getting mangled as it was whispered, like how rumors were wont to grow. Instead, Irakles intended to present all of his facts at the meet itself.
He had gotten up early that morning, getting his morning ablutions done, before his servants filed in to the room he shared with his mistress. His penned words would have found both his sons the day before - Emilios and Achilleas had to be at the meet. But he had met them before the meet, if only to remind them of the hedonistic behaviour their cousin had indulged in, and to remind them that their interest had to be for the betterment of the kingdom, and not to be clouded by preconceived judgement of their peers. That done, Irakles had also reminded Meena and their daughters to be present around the Dikasitrio for the day of the meet - he knew that the ladies would gossip outside whilst the meet went on, and he wanted Meena on hand to control and direct the conversation. Irakles wanted nothing but full support behind the decision he wanted to throw down at the meet today.
The chiton he would don today was in Mikaelidas colours of maroon red and gold. The white, long chiton served as a base, before a darker hued maroon was layered above it, the material so thick and rich it would shimmer under the light. Gold fastenings were attached, a fibulae in the shape of a lion's head fastened to both sides of is shoulders. A golden belt was also tightened around is waist, before is servants slid his feet into the pair of black sandals he would wear. His graying, peppery hair was combed back before his crown was placed upon it. Whilst he usually preferred a normal circlet, today Irakles had opted for a grander one of golden ivy leaves wound around a circlet. The leaves started on either ends, before they met right in the middle, where a lion's head sat in the middle of is forehead, the creature mid-roar. No sense in letting people forget that he was a prince in his own right.
To either of his arms, a wide, golden armband was fitted, before his himation of a light gold was fitted over his shoulders, clasped in the middle with a bronzed fibulae in the shape of a peacock's fanned out tail.
Checking his reflection one last time to ensure that no inch of him was not covered in as much regality as he could manage without looking as if he was flaunting his wealth, Irakles nodded when he was assured he looked commanding and confident without being overtly so, before making his way to the entrance of the Mikaelidas manor. He had opted to remain within his manor, for he was not sure if his nephew would find a way to keep him within the walls of the palati. Aeneus would be saddled and waiting for him, and Irakles intended to greet as many people in Vasiliadon as he could on his way to the Dikasitrio. The prince often spent time with the Taengeans in the capitol, listening to their problems and actively solving issues as much as he could. His image, at least to Taengeans, was clean and untarnished.
Fotios would have been nervous if he was the kind of man to become so. Luckily, a childhood of fear had steeled his nerves to iron at a young age and he had never found himself anxious or trembling the way other men might try to hide themselves as feeling. Instead, he had always found a certain calm in moments like these. He would internally stress and agonise and become a perfectionist over the finer details of every step of every plan ahead of time; when he could still do something about it. But once they were at the final stretch - the final moment in which the chips were to fall where they may... He always found a clarity in that moment, similar to the notion of "what would be, would be." Perhaps it was that he was actually highly emotional and simply shut down. Perhaps it was that he had about a dozen contingency plans kept in his head ready for use as and when necessary. Perhaps it was the slightly sociopathic tendencies that seemed to linger deep in his core somewhere. For whatever reason, Fotios woke up on the day of the Senate meet Irakles had called with a sense of serenity that was out of sorts with the importance of the day.
Performing his morning ablutions, Fotios lingered over the wash cloth and combing of his hair to consider the preparations he had put in place for just such a day. Irakles had been the one to send out the officially announcements of the formal meet. He had also been the one to send out an informal note to all appropriate lords ensuring their attendance. He had performed both as a man and a prince to that extent, his behaviour above reproach in all ways - as it should have been. Fotios had been the one to play dirty behind the scenes.
At that moment, whilst he was cleaning himself up for the day, three horses would be slipping shoes or falling lame as they transported their nobles towards the Senate meet. Another two enslaved drivers were "getting lost" on their way to the capitol due to storms erasing several roads in their areas. One lord had been slipped a little too strong a wine with his evening repast the night before, ensuring that he would awaken too late to attend, believing that he had simply drank more than his had thought he had in his intoxicated state.
Another six - the ones that Fotios knew to be the freest with their loyalties and limited in their patriotism (as there were in every kingdom) had been outright bribed not to attend.
And none of these actions could be traced back to Fotios. Each one had a break in the communications somewhere, where the individuals occupying different steps of the message did not know where the one before was from, nor where the one after was going. There were at least two breaks in every communication line and Fotios never used his own handwriting, name or servants to carry out the tasks. His record in the affair was entirely clean. What was not, would be the vote at the Senate.
The absences on the day would hardly be noticed. Not every noble attended Senate meets - not even the largest ones. If the barons in question felt like there was little to be gleaned from the event, or had issues or disasters that they had to deal with in their own provinces, they wouldn't travel nearly a half day (or full day for some) ride in order to sit in a room of argumentative men, debating matters that mattered little to their specific area or people. It would not be unusual for roughly a fifth to a quarter of the men to not show.
What would be unusual, however, was that all of the male nobility who did show up, would have already been prepped, geared and persuaded down a certain line of thought that would lead to them voting and discussing the affairs to be raised in a manner most encouraging towards Fotios' friend and his "concerns" over the new king.
It was true that Stephanos was unsuited to be monarch in temperament and personality. However, those same traits could have - with time - be turned to become something very useful for a ruler. That brashness and military prowess could be leadership. The seduction and nonchalance, could be charisma. Stephanos had a way about him that made others like him, without him even trying. And it was a talent that was the most dangerous for breaking into Irakles' plans. Hence why they had to turn that personality - that talent - into something twisted, before Stephanos had the chance to show off all he might one day become.
Which meant that Irakles would have to pull out an accusation far harsher than being a simple playboy or poor administrator would be. No king was ever dismissed over simple paperwork errors. Those were just all to sow the seeds of doubt and dislike. Seeds that would grow into a temperament and mindset that would more readily accept the accusations soon to be hurled at the man's feet.
Dressing in more flashy attire than he might normally, Fotios wore a full chiton in Leventi purple. Floor length and fastened on both shoulders and at the waist, the robes had no sleeves but were matched with a pure white himation that he wrapped around his shoulders and torso and then allowed to hang down his back in a sort of cloak or cape. His feet were clad in black leather sandals and he wore bracers of silver on his forearms. The himation was fastened into shape by a single fibula over his heart - silver and in the shape of a rearing horse.
Whilst he normally preferred to dress like a shadow, keeping his presence minimal and unobtrusive to the world and proceedings around him, it was important today that any words he ended up speaking would come with the might and power of his family name behind them. As arguably the most powerful family in the kingdom, besides the one actually ruling, the Leventi name went a long way in the eyes and fears of the people.
He noted that Eirini had taken the same tactic, dressing in an appropriate attire to match but slightly staider and more proper than her normal eye-catching outfits. Such an ensemble reinstated her loyalty to Fotios and the family name, rather than her ambitions to be admired and Fotios found himself falling for her all over again that she had recognised the importance of the day and her choice of raiment without his mentioning of it. There were some within the Taengean court that considered is wife to be shallow, vain and overtly ambitious for her position. All such traits were true. But what was not true was that ideas of stupidity and vapidness that ignorant observes added naturally to that list. In love with her appearance and her own desires, Eirini was self-centred and shallow but always, always highly calculating.
As far as his daughters were concerned, Fotios had arranged for their activities accordingly. Agape - a familiar lady of the court - would be attending with her mother as was appropriate. One daughter was easy enough to keep in line by his wife when dialogue became clever or significant. The other two, Fotios had instructed on going shopping for the day in the capital. Another deliberate action that would suggest that Fotios had no knowledge that the Senate would be significant this day and that his children might need to witness the reactions outside of the Dikastirio. It was a testament to innocence before a crime had even occurred.
When all were ready in their morning tasks, preparations and appearance, Fotios ordered for the main Leventi carriage to be arrange - a box lacquered white with their silver insignia on the side. Drawn by four white horses and offering trailing strips of purple silk at its corners, the carriage was another momentary display of power that the other nobles of the Senate would do well to remember. Whilst he liked to remain in the background of such things more often than not, Fotios was not above showing the power of his family when it served him well...
The carriage ride towards the political arcus was silent within the cart, but Fotios and Eirini took to each other’s glances and stares with a feeling of intimacy - absorbing strength from one another as they both recognised the significance of the day. Agape spent most of the journey looking out of the window.
Upon arrival, Fotios noted that the arcus had not yet been opened to the nobles and immediately spotted Irakles standing amongst his retainers and guards. Eirini was being escorted - in a second carriage - by her own ladies in waiting but Fotios travelled without entourage. He trusted no-one enough to let them within his circle of influence in that way. So, he was alone as he approached his friend with a smile. Offering his arms out wide to embrace the man, a clear sign of friendship and camaraderie between the families that no-one witnessing could ignore, he hugged Irakles and patted the man on the back as his wife and daughter came to stand with them. A unified front.
"My friend..." Fotios commented as he stepped away from the prince. "How are you this fine morn?" He asked, opening up normal lines of communication and casual conversation. No use in alarming those around them to the severity of the day before it was due time...
Life had been nearly perfect since his victory at the Creed Enclave. What he’d vowed to do had been done. So far as he was concerned, Irakles could whisper in shadowed corners all he liked, or have cloistered dinners with whomever he chose. Whatever his uncle might say did not alter fact; he, Stephanos, King of Taengea, had been both triumphant and exacting in his vengeance. The fight was by no means over. Some of the Creed had escaped, though their numbers were few. But he had the gratitude of the people for ridding them of the biggest viper nest.
By his orders, burned portions of Vasiliadon were being restored not only to former glory, but enhanced beauty. It was meant to be a slap in the face to the Creed who sought to bring the kingdom to its knees. Music had been played in the streets and there had been an almost festival type feeling in the air. They didn’t have to live in abject panic anymore. The Creed were gone. Mostly.
There was little need, in his opinion, to shout from the rooftops that some Creed remained. He’d get to them soon enough but at least the capital was safe for the moment.
The marr, the stain, the one thing souring the savour of his victory was Irakles. Not only was the man alive and breathing, he was LIVING within palati walls. The war that had been waged between himself and his mother for this gross betrayal was violent and ongoing. Mother and son were no longer on speaking terms and no vase was safe when they were in a room together. The servants were constantly having to sweep up shards of pottery from the floor.
If not for the concern that some mishap would befall his remaining parent, he would have, and obviously already should have, sequestered her somewhere remote, so that he could better control the dowager queen’s damage. No one but a few loyal to himself saw either the problem or the danger of giving Irakles such constant access to the palace and the people inside it.
Stephanos dressed with haste. He was concerned about today. If he was Irakles, it would be today that he made some kind of move. All those private dinners had to be for a reason. He had a few ideas, some of which was that Irakles was trying to gain support for some kind of coup, perhaps. But there’d been very little whispers on that and, as always, he had no proof. It was his own paranoia and projecting onto Irakles what he himself would do in the prince’s place.
He arrived at the dikastirio arcus, passing men whom he knew had been entertaining Irakles. But there were others whom he had every confidence had not. That was some small relief. Still, he felt caged. Even in the dikastirio’s open, amphitheater-like setting, with the stone bench seats rising up and away from him, they surrounded him too. His place was on the platform in front of everyone. So that he could watch them all and they watch him in return.
He did not immediately take his place. Instead, he walked toward Iason of Dimitrou and Gavriil of Dimitrou, clasping the shoulders of each in turn before moving on toward his uncle. It was impossible for him to leave Irakles alone. “You’re always so impeccably dressed, uncle. I would assume it would grow tiresome to preen for so long in the looking glass?”
Nikolias agreed with Irakles that it was not an ordinary day. Not that they always agreed on much, but to Nikolias, any day since the king and prince had died hadn't exactly been ordinary. It always seemed to end up that way every time a king died. Oh, they'd try to at least pretend (at least it seemed to him like pretending) that things weren't falling apart at some level, and there was always a new ruler crowned eventually, but in the meantime there would always be a lack of something Nikolias had a hard time defining. It was like a house without any people in it. Everything such as furniture was there for their use, but the house wasn't occupied. There was no sense of presence there anymore.
And now the throne wasn't occupied by the person it used to be occupied by. And a Senate meeting, whatever else it did, wouldn't change that, since the old king and prince were dead. Stephanos was king now. No, they'd probably try to mold him into their puppet, if nothing else, at least for now.
And yet....
A shiver snaked up his spine. The air seemed to contain as much tension as his bow did before he released an arrow. As he looked up at the sky before walking in, he could swear he heard the breeze crackling and fizzing with it.
Irakles had told him little enough, but from what he had, there was very little that Nikolias could disagree with. Stephanos wasn’t suited to be king because he was far too brash. Nikolias would have understood a bit of pride- every royal seemed to have that, and kings in particular- but gods, how would a person like that behave around his subjects? Was that any way to make people respect you? It was possible by turns to either be rude on the one hand or overbearingly assertive on the other. And yet he supposed if one were as charismatic as Stephanos, people would forgive him anything.
That was just nauseating. What was wrong with people? Were they all as stupid as sheep? Although he had to at least pretend for the sake of his position, Nikolias never had suffered fools well.
When he saw as he took his place that Fotios of Leventi was there, too, he bristled a bit. Whose side was he on?
That they were on the same side for once would likely have come as a surprise to them both, considering their feuds with each other’s families.
(OOC: I'm guessing that Irakles likely wouldn't have said who else was on his side by naming names. That being said, I can't wait to see Fotios' reaction to seeing Nikolias. )
The day of the Senate meet had finally arrived. When the morning sun broke through the horizon, Meena had already been up, dressing and preparing for that day. She’d gotten very little sleep the night before, having spent most of it pacing back and forth the Archontiko like a caged panther. The unknown outcome of the following day’s events had weighed so heavily on her mind that she’d crept away to pray to the Gods. Even after she’d urged Irakles to come to bed, she was unable to rest herself. But by the time the first of the songbirds had begun to sing, a transcendental peace had fallen upon her. She was resigned to what fate had in store. From this point on, it was in the hands of the Gods. And if the Gods failed... Well, Irakles had not spent all this time planning for naught.
Even in the preoccupied silence of her preparation, Meena couldn’t help but let her attention fall to Irakles as he applied the final touches to his appearance. His stature was tall and regal, befitting for the king that she knew he was. Instantly, she was brought back to the first time she beheld him and for the briefest of moments, her face softened. He’d still displayed that same courage and stately pride that he had even then. Admiration for him reflected in her eyes and a coy smile stole across her lips. Even she had to admit that the cad had managed to carry his handsomeness into his older age. In quiet appraisal of her lover, her possessive gaze followed his meticulous movements up until the moment he ushered himself out the door. With a sigh, she turned back to the looking glass. She’d hoped that all the pieces would finally come together today, for his sake.
That morning she mirrored her lover’s garb. Often times, she kept her association to the Mikaelidas lord discreet, if that word could even be applied here. But today all of Taengea would know where her loyalties lied. While Myrto hid in the other half of the estate, Meena would be out representing Irakles and his eligibility for the throne. An ivory chiton gently hugged her slender frame and served as the bottom layer. Elegantly wrapped around her bodice, fastened at her right shoulder and tucked underneath her left arm was a deep maroon himation. It was clearly the same fabric that Irakles also wore. A sheer, gossamer epiblema with the faintest shimmer of gold was draped at her shoulders and pinned in place with prominent golden fibulae.
She was free of her own jewelry, opting for the jewels of the Mikaelidas House instead. She adorned herself with a wide, golden collar necklace, a dark garnet placed at its center. Golden, intricate bands twisted around both of her upper arms, coming to a stoic lion’s head at the top. She was refreshingly bare of any makeup, her olive complexion complimented by the rich maroon and golden hues. Her dark hair was loosely pinned halfway up, allowing the remaining tendrils to frame her face. She left their manor not long after Irakles, Tasia following in her footsteps.
In spite of Irakles’ best efforts at reminding both girls to be present for the Senate meet, Meena had instructed Sara to join Eirini’s daughters in shopping. She was well aware that Irakles favored their younger daughter, which was, perhaps, why he desired her support. But the girl did not have a single nerve in her body. So much so that it was bewildering to Meena at times that Sara was her own daughter. The circle of women was oft’ times more intimidating and vicious than the official business of the men. It was vital that Meena held control of the conversation and Sara’s meek nature would only present a target to the other ladies.
Meena squinted in the sunlight as she stepped out of the carriage, Tasia and Astraea close behind her. Already, a crowd had begun to form around the dikastirio arcus. She immediately spotted Irakles, as he stood out immensely to her. Fotios was nearby, as well as Stephanos. All were extravagently robed in their respective house colors and had the situation not been as dire as it was, Meena might have found amusement in the way the lords strutted as peacocks on display. From the appearance of it, the arcus was not yet open, but she knew that it was only a matter of time before it was. Without a word, Tasia abandoned her side in search for her friends. Likewise, Meena found herself scrutinizing the crowd for Eirini or any other person worth approaching.
The people of Vasiliadon seemed unperturbed - and why shouldn't they? The Senate meet was, while important to him and his peers, proved of little importance to those of common birth. Unless certain individuals planned on taking a future career in the political arena, what was discussed in the Senate was unlikely to effect them largely, and even if they did, it would be a long time before the effects were felt. As such, as Irakles bidded them a good day as he made his way to the Dikasitrio, he merely smiled and exchanged a word or two as his gelding plodded through the streets, not wanting to disturb the peace that was finally beginning to settle upon the disturbed capitol of Taengea.
By the time he arrived at the Arcus, every bone and muscle in his body was ready for what was to transpire in the day's meet. He had high hopes that his plan would fall in place, so much so that he had fell in easy sleep the night before. Of course, the physicians who had been seeing him in his bout of illness before this would attribute the early bedtime to his minor chest aches and visits to the chamberpot in prior weeks, but Irakles would like to chalk it up to good planning. So convinced he was in his plans, the Prince was in good spirits as he dismounted at the entrance to the Dikasitrio, where nobility from most provinces in Taengea was beginning to gather.
The man smiled as he saw Nikolias of Condos in attendance, a man he had shared a meal with, along with his son, and a man who had shared his views. In a way, they had agreed that while Stephanos's charm would get him away with anything, that was in no way the proper method to run a kingdom, for it would be soon run to the ground. And where would that leave the glory of Taengea then?
Just as he was about to make his way to greet the Condos lord however, a familiar voice stilled his steps, a voice which made Irakles pause, and then smile a satisfied smile. While Stephanos had grown in leaps and bounds, even as he turned around to bestow his young nephew with his attention, the smooth smile showed that the young King's words had not managed to rankle Irakles at all. He knew better then to let such simple things disturb him. Instead, the Prince tilted his head lightly in a show of mild respect, at least in the eyes of many others.
"It isn't tiresome if it has been made a habit... Your Highness." he murmured in return, a slow drawl that was obvious only to Stephanos's ears that he did not mean a single bit of the respectful address one should offer to the King. Instead, the elder Mikaelidas now stood at ease, two hands behind him as he in turn, scrutinized the way Stephanos was dressed. It was obvious the young one had hastily threw his outfit on, with no concern of how he should portray himself as a leading figure. How could the lords and nobility of the kingdom listen to someone who had awoken so late, he couldn't spare a few extra minutes on his garb? "Clothing enables one to fulfill duties to their best degree, a companion if you must. Besides, it simply shows that I have woken up with plenty of time to dress myself well, and yet still have time to handle all my matters smoothly."
With another curt nod to his nephew, the male turned on his heels, smiling as he saw his carriage arriving, no doubt carrying with him his lover and eldest daughter. While Irakles would've liked having Sara around, he was also aware, as Meena was, of how mousy his youngest offspring's nature was. Knowing full well she would not find comfort in such an event, he had agreed with Meena's decision to send Sara off with Eirini's daughter's. Tasia would do a splendid job in assisting her mother listening in on all the conversations of the ladies and swaying their decisions to side with Irakles while the men were inside the Senate, of that Irakles had utter faith in his lover.
A silent look was all he offered Meena as she began scrutinizing the crowd, before he turned and finally made his way to Nikolias, greeting the Condos lord with a bright smile and a clap on his shoulder in a friendly greeting. "This would be a turning day for the glory of Taengea, do you think, Lord Nikolias? I have faith that the lords would have the best interest of our kingdom at heart."
He greeted those he knew, though today he was a little bit nervous, now that he'd seen Fotios. Truthfully, he felt a little overstimulated by all the noise here from people greeting each other and seeming to discuss everything but what they were really here for, even if customs were still important. It was not that, entirely, as he'd probably have been a little more social if he felt more comfortable. He didn't really know for a fact if everyone in the vicinity was on their side, though he did have to laugh despite himself at overhearing a little of the conversation between Stephanos and Irakles. He had to agree that at times, as the saying went, the clothes made the man. Or woman, he thought, glancing at Meena, whom he had to admit looked as stunning as Irakles in her own way. She was wearing the jewels of the Mikaelidas house today, and while Mikaelidas was also Stephanos' house, it was obvious enough whose side she was on. He wondered, halfheartedly, whether he and Olivia had ever- consciously or no- mirrored each other's clothing style.
"I have faith in...most of them," Nikolias admitted when Irakles finally greeted him. "You will have to excuse me, if you will, for not being so quick to trust Fotios of Leventi, however." He knew Irakles would probably understand, at least if he had heard of the feuds between the Condos and Leventi families. "You're reasonably sure we are surrounded only by supporters?" The last part was said in a whisper.
Still, though, if all went as planned, things would no doubt improve- not only for the glory of Taengea itself, but even, perhaps, for those who had sided with Irakles. Or so he thought.
He wondered if that might be counted as part of the glory he had promised his father to bring to the Condos line.
The last place he wanted to be was here, surrounded by the judgmental faces of those around him. He would have rathered been marooned on an island alone than be here, but he had a duty to perform, and his father wasn’t going to let him skip out on something that apparently was important. He couldn’t understand why this meeting was more important, seeing how he’d missed the last dozen.
So Emilios dressed in the colors of his house, taking care to ensure that his dress was appropriate. He knew his father would dismiss him, should he show up less than perfect. And while he hadn’t wished to have anything to do with the Senate, if he wanted to be worthy of the sacrifice he was making for Theo, he would have to start at some point.
If he was going to be titled, he would have to learn everything that his brother had been raised knowing. There were duties and responsibilities that he would have to take up to maintain his own land. And Achilleas had years of training and practice at keeping his land, running taxes and all the responsibility that went along with it. The younger brother was known for his preference of the ‘fun’, of everything that requires little to no effort. And perhaps it was because he spent his whole childhood trying to be better than his brother that when he finally found his niche, he relaxed into it.
But the fun was over, it seemed.
He knew he was running late, know that his father would be disappointed the moment he walked through the doors. Emilios was quite used to the look, the raised eyebrow with a frustrated look of anger. There was rarely a word said, since he knew exactly what was meant by it. He was the one who was subjected to it, not Achilleas. His brother was the perfect one.
He was just the spare.
He and his father should have gotten on better in that respect. Both expected to know what to do without actually having to do it. Both looked on as an afterthought. Both judged by the actions of their brothers. And he was even following his father’s morals, not caring about matrimony when he took his brother’s fiancee to his bed. As if somehow, he was better than his father, for his actions had been determined before the Gods had gifted his love to his brother. Life didn’t seem fair at all.
The ride was brief, and it wasn’t long before he was leaving his horse in the stables and searching for a familiar face that he could stand. The crowd was growing, and he wished to disappear into the fold. His eyes quickly fell on Meena, hoping to avoid his father’s mistress altogether.
While he adored his half sisters, he wasn’t all that sure about his feelings for the other woman.
The moments before a Senate meet were always amusing to an outsider and tense to those who understood the deeper level of communication that was ongoing. To those who were on the outside looking in, the nobles of the land were preened and pampered and walking around in a manner that was designed to show off wealth and little else. As if this entire event was a farce to show off the money that sat in each of their treasuries.
Ignorants, all of them.
The clothes on each man's back and the ways in which they displayed themselves had nothing to do with the power and money to their names and everything to do with the implications it made of the men themselves. Fotios had taken a step back from his brotherly embrace of Irakles when the king himself decided to offer up just such ignorant comments. Irakles had needed little help from himself in expressing the exact sentiments drifting through Fotios' mind. Showing that you were dressed in a way that was controlled and organised gave strong indication of exactly how that would translate into the running and handling of your own business; be it the responsibilities of a prince or of a king.
When Irakles moved away from the king, Fotios lingered just a moment longer, as Eirini greeted a friend and needed just a second to catch up to him. In that time, Fotios offered a hand to his chest and a deep bow to Stephanos. For appearances were everything within the nobility; be they clothing or gestures.
"Your Majesty." He offered as a formal greeting. "If you'll excuse me, I must see to my wife."
And with a polite extraction and a backward step, Fotios moved back towards Eirini, placing a hand onto the small of her back and leaning in close as they left her friend behind and headed out towards another small group of the lower noblemen. These were men that Fotios knew well, had spoken with often and couldn't seem to take their eyes off of the woman on his arm in a manner that suggested adoration of both of the married pair. It was seconds before Eirini's charms had them eating from the palm of her hand and only a few seconds more before they were assured of the men's loyalty and were able to move on once more.
This time, the married couple separated. Eirini headed in the direction of the Lady Meena, whilst Fotios moved back towards his friend the Prince Irakles. As he witnessed Eirini moving to offer a hug of welcome and friendship to Irakles' lover, Fotios offered just such a hand of welcome to a man he had never offered it to before.
As he had approached the pair, Fotios had overheard the conversation being had; specifically, where his own name was mentioned. Words accompanied his gesture of good faith.
"Come now, Lord Condos." He offered with a smile. "Our quarrels have always been business-like have they not?" He offered, his words truthful at least. The two of them had never been friends but neither had their disagreements over land and money ever descended into personal remarks or angry vendettas. "And today is about more than gold coin, is it not?"
As he spoke, Fotios momentarily caught Lord Emilios' eye and his gaze lingered for a second before moving back to Lord Nikolias. The man looked positively depressed. Which meant plans there were not progressing as one had hoped. He would have to speak to the man sometime soon...
A few metres away, the Lady Eirini was speaking with Meena, clasping at her hands in a manner of close friendship that the women had always shared and speaking with a tone of confidence.
"My dearest Meena, you look positively divine this day... but a little tense." Eirini said, with a squeeze of the other woman's fingers and a delicate frown descending between her brows, before she lowered her voice to a level that was not easily heard but also not one to look suspicious. "All will be well." She told the woman, as she waved her daughter Agape away to go and join Tasia, despite the fact that neither daughter had ever much liked the other.
Nikolias considered. Fotios' words were true enough, and yet he remembered his father, and even grandfather, telling of times when vendettas had been as common as flour for bread. It still didn't mean he was inclined to trust him, but Fotios was right... it was about more than gold today, though why gold had ever been enough to start feuds over he couldn't figure out when both the Condos and Leventi houses were so wealthy. He nodded, satisfied enough with the answer.
"Thank you. It's good to hear." For today, anyway, they were on the same side, he just felt better hearing it straight from Fotios' mouth. He smiled. genuinely meaning what he said.
If Nikolias were depressed about anything, it was probably because he was still apprehensive about what his son would do regarding wanting the kingship. Seeing as Irakles' sons didn't want it and Nikolias had been related to royalty through the wrong parent, which option was the worst choice here? If a king did not really care whether he were a king, could he be a good leader?
Nikolias did wonder, briefly, if tradition could be overlooked for the sake of the happiness of those involved, not to mention for the sake of Nikos not possibly losing his life as a result of a foolish thought, but dismissed the idea as something that would probably never happen in his lifetime or that of his son. Still, why did the walls always have to have ears? It made everything so much more draining and stressful.
The elder Condos lord was obviously a little hesitant, but the prince was not about to fault the lord, not when he knew of all the things at stake here. Their meal had brought the two men to share many of their ideas, and Irakles knew from past history of how Lord Nikolias did not favor large crowds, nor courtly proceedings, so he was exceedingly glad for the elder Condos lord's attendance for the day, as the same for his son.
"I understand, my lord." he murmured in return. The Mikaelidas house had their own feuds - many Dynasteia within Taengea had. It was an inevidable thing, when so many noble families married within ranks and with each other, and the Leventi House even more so. The house was known as one with many ambitious men and even more beautiful women - Fotios's nieces were the ones to watch out for, for one had already managed to wrangle her way to the status of a Queen simply by enticing his fool of a nephew into bed with her.
Yet Fotios was a personal friend, one that had proven to be a great assistance in his whole plan. To question Nikolias's wariness of Fotios would be futile of course, so instead Irakles simply nodded that he understood of the other's caution in regards to his friend. Nodding to Nikolias's whispered question, he leaned in closer so their words would only be heard by themselves. "Not all are supporters, of course, but I have had dinner with a sizable amount of them, nobles and royals alike, and I can assure you our plan is sound." It was said with an air of confidence, the kind of conviction only a prince who had planned well can pull off.
And Irakles has planned well indeed.
Smiling when his friend approached the pair, Irakles chuckled to Fotios's off-hand comment to Nikolias. Trust the Leventi lord to try and clear the air that way, but he doubted the Condos lord would trust Fotios far yet. Irakles would be satisfied with no loud words exchanged for today, and nodded in agreement to Fotios's final words. "And your son? Lord Nikos would be attending, would he not?" No sense in wasting a vote, after all.
As more people arrived to gather outside of the Dikasitrio, his eyes caught the arrival of both his sons separately - Achilleas astride a horse, as he favored from being a general, a habit that Irakles shared. Emilios arrived soon after, and he gave a satisfied when he saw his younger also cladded in the house colors, a choice which should be natural to him, but Irakles could never be certain with his unpredictable younger son. As it was, he wasn't certain in what Emilios planned to do about his silly infatuation regarding his own brother's fiance, but whatever he was, he would remind Emilios to hurry up about it, for the wedding between Theodora and Achilleas was not to be delayed any further.
It did not take long before the Senators within the Dikasitrio had the doors opene, and it was soon too obvious that the men had begun making their way within.
Turning to look at Nikolias and Fotios, Irakles took a deep breathe, before motioning at the entrance to where the usual Senate meet would take place. "Shall we, my lords?"
Irakles appearing and saying that he understood made Nikolias feel a bit better, but he was still nervous as far as what was going to happen, especially concerning what stance Nikos would take. Still, he was glad to have his effort in coming here acknowledged, as he didn't in general like to spend more time in court and around large crowds than necessary. Knowing that at least most of the men present were supporters made him a little more confident, too.
"Good. I would have hated for a riot to break out!" He still wondered what they would do and how they would get to safety if it did happen, but maybe Irakles had thought of that as well.
At the mention of Nikos, though, he sighed a little. "He will be along shortly. Something to do with a stained robe, he said. But I am not sure even so what exactly he plans. and that makes me nervous, too." He probably need not say more than that, as Irakles was probably aware of Nikolias' worries, but it would be enough to explain the problem of the unease he still felt.
His son walked in a few minutes later, greeting all the men in their turns. and Nikolias, spying him, sighed again. He looked so... debonair. And all for what? Perhaps if he paid a little less attention to his appearance, the fact that Nikos felt cheated of the crown might not be so painfully obvious. And Nikolias had thought his two daughters were particular! He shook his head in disbelief.
"Marisa and Ophelia don't seem to have half as much obsession with their looks, not compared to him." He tried to smile and lighten the mood a little.
Irakles seemed to gesture toward the Senate building.
"Shall we, my lords?"
Nikolias took another deep breath himself, nodded, and turned toward the building to make his entrance.
He did not attend every meeting of the Senate, but this one he would. Mostly because he happened to be in the city when it was already taking place, and the other reason was that the king had written to him expressly to request his presence. Why it was so important, the king hadn’t said, but dutifully, Gavriil had attended. There was a strange happenstance to nearly prevent him from coming. His own horse was lame and so he’d had to borrow that of a neighbor’s, but he’d managed to make it in the end.
As he advanced on the place, he saw several men he liked, and several men he did not. What he did not do, though, was outwardly distinguish between the two. Instead, he placed his hands behind his back, and nodded to one and all of them, bowing to Prince Irakles, bowing lower to the king, and bowing to Prince Emilios as he made his way to his seat.
The arcus wasn’t a building so much as an open amphitheater sort of place and as Gavriil sat down, he squinted up at the blazing sun. Today was going to be hot. He did not relish sitting here for hours, listening to inane arguments. Alas, this was his duty and he would fulfill it as best he was able.
“And you as well. Am I truly so transparent?” Meena whispered back as she welcomed Eirini’s embrace, a gesture she would not so freely do with any other. She cast her a light-hearted smile in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, or her mood, rather. In spite of her nerves, it was like a breath of fresh air to see her most trusted friend and confidant. And she looked absolutely stunning, as always.
Eirini’s presence did have an effect on Meena that no other person, besides Irakles, could manage to invoke – Calmness in chaos. Meena had always felt that Eirini was cut from the same cloth as herself. They’d both come from humble beginnings and both had succeeded in their endeavors of gaining power by any means necessary. Eirini was one of the few, if not only, people who had her complete respect and admiration. Not long after Irakles had instated Meena as the lady of the house, Eirini took her under her wing and taught her the ways of the court.
All will be well. Her words echoed within Meena’s mind and she silently nodded in agreement, attempting to calm herself. She had complete faith in Irakles, but it did little to soothe her nerves. It wasn’t that she doubted him... She just hated the fact that his status was dependent on the simpletons around him. Was she being biased? Perhaps. But she so believed that out of everyone there, he was the most capable and deserving of the throne. He’d done everything within his power to assure that all went according to plan.
Meena glanced past Eirini, to see the doors of the Dikasitrio opening slowly. “It is beginning.” She stated coolly as the men began to amble in. Her keen gaze was on them and she watched like a hawk as Irakles disappeared into the flood of people that were scrambling through the doors. Her stray of attention happened so fast that in a blink it was back onto Eirini. Suddenly, her dark eyes lit up followed by a naughty smile as she grasped at Eirini’s hands. “Come, let’s see how the other women fare. I wonder if, perhaps, Olympia dared to show her face today.” She said so sympathetically that if her conniving ways were not known by Eirini, she might have very well been believed.
Regardless of whether or not Stephanos’ wife had made an appearance, things would still work favorably for Meena. She just felt that the poor woman deserved a chance to defend herself against the accusations that she was prepared to make. Well, could they really be called accusations when they were more of the truth? It was a well-known secret that Olympia had been showing sooner than what was appropriate and she would mercilessly use that to her advantage.
There was something about the day that made the princess incredibly uneasy. She couldn't put her finger on it, but from the moment she woke up to the time that she started to prepare to join the women outside the arcus, she just felt... odd. The world had remained such an unassuming place since her father and brother's deaths, but she knew that Stephanos still struggled to trust their uncle. And Stephanos' distrust of the elder man only aided in Xene's own distrust of Irakles. She was not quick to jump to attention whenever the prince passed her in the halls.
Especially now that he had wormed his way into their home, setting Stephanos even more ill at ease.
But there were other items on the princess' mind that morning. Thoughts that would never be spoken out loud so long as she lived. Her strange, if not frustrating, relationship with Fotios was one of those things. But she would not let herself remain distracted. The senate was meeting and it was her duty to show her face in support of her brother.
He would always have her support and she would do absolutely anything to ensure that he knew that. If anything, she and Stephanos were two sides of the same coin... if he could be bothered to remember that she had always stood at his shoulder. His confidant. His informant.
Xene kept her arrival at the Arcus quiet. She wore a crimson colored chiton, her hair done up in tender curls that most women found it difficult to maintain. Xene was a picture of beauty, health, and staunch support for the King among people who might not favor him so. Giving silent nods and slight bows to the women who stood outside, Xene let her gaze flick to the opening doors as the men filed inside.
She stood quietly to the wayside, her guard close at her shoulder, his gaze straight ahead as was expected of him. Tilting her chin just slightly, the princess glanced back at him, "Ears open," Xene reminded him, earning a nod so slight that only Xene would notice it.
Xene of MikaelidasMeena of VasiliádonIrakles of MikaelidasStephanos of Mikaelidas Gianna had become somewhat reserved in the months following her father and brother’s deaths. While of course she mourned for them, her recent withdrawal had been compounded by the knowledge that she could not trust those she believed to be closest to her. Gianna had always been close to her father and had deeply admired Zacharias. With their sudden and tragic absence from her life, the youngest Taengean princess had looked to her uncle, the late king’s brother, for her strength and guidance.
But Stephanos, her beloved second brother, had warned her that Irakles did not have their best interests in mind. He had openly accused the man of murder and treason, confiding in her his belief that Irakles was the one behind the deaths of the late king and crown prince. It was difficult, of course, to think that her uncle could be capable of committing such an abhorrent deed. The days following her revelatory conversation with Stephanos had been tense to say the least. The king had instructed Gianna to act as though nothing had changed, as if everything was alright.
But things were far from alright in the kingdom of Taengea. Beneath the glamour of a town well on its way to healing from the trauma it had experienced, unrest was brewing in Vasiliádon. While Gianna had never been keen on the politics within the court and outside the palace walls, she could feel the electricity of disquiet in the very air everywhere she went. Her own agitation in response had made every interaction with her uncle that much more difficult and strained. Of course, the princess had done her best to avoid Irakles, but since he had convinced the queen mother of the necessity of his presence within the palace walls.
Gianna fought the urge to be sick as Elpis presented her with a chiton of deepest crimson and a golden epiblema, a piece she had not laid eyes on in many years. Elpis must have searched every trunk and wardrobe in the palace just to find it, Gianna realized with an appreciative yet solemn smile directed to the servant. No words were exchanged between the two as Elpis dressed the princess, attaching her chiton at the shoulder with fibulae bearing the Mikaelidas lion. She silently prayed that Athena grant her the strength to face the women of the court who would undoubtedly be awaiting some juicy morsel of gossip to take home and spin to their benefit.
Gianna would especially need the goddess’s strength should she see Meena, her uncle’s mistress. She hugged the epiblema around her shoulders as she thought about the blatant—and some less so—lies the woman had been spreading about Stephanos. Her brother had proven himself to be a perfectly competent king and leader time and time again, so what if his heir was conceived out of wedlock? He had defeated the Creed, that should be evidence enough for the Senate! Shouldn’t it? Gianna shook her head to clear her thoughts, she could not stand to dwell on all of the possible outcomes.
Her trip to the arcus had been a short one. And quiet. Xene had left significantly earlier, leaving Gianna to make the journey on her own, accompanied by a single guard—the most she could put up with in public and the least her mother would agree to. The princess straightened her diadem one last time, pulling free a curl that had managed to get caught in one of its delicate peaks. There was no fanfare with her arrival, thank gods, the crowd was much more interested in the men who were now entering the arcus. A quick scan of the spectators was enough for her to locate Xene who had also chosen their house colors in support of Stephanos.
With a few well-timed strides, Gianna was by her sister’s side, linking her elbow with the older woman’s. Who needed whom, she could not discern, but she did feel a sense of calm just being with her own flesh and blood. She offered Xene a hollow smile before directing her attention to their brother as he filed inside alongside the senators. “He’ll be okay...he has to be,” she stated to no one in particular, not entirely sure who she was trying to convince.
Smiling. His face ached from small smiles of greeting, even though he interspersed them with a nod of the head here, the clasp of an arm there. Of course, he knew the import of such small cordialities. The man you greet well with a smile in the morning would not forget you when the dark fell. But, Achilleas thought with uncharacteristic irritation, he had worked hard enough that should not be forgotten in the first instance.
Having handed off his horse to a servant to be stabled, the Baron of Euttica was playing the game demanded of him, as usual. Tall enough to look over many of the heads in the room, he spotted his brother, noted the Mikaelidas colours that adorned him and their father both, and wrapped too around his own broad shoulders. A show of strength indeed. He began to thread his way through the crowds toward his brother, taking a wide detour to avoid Meena so he would not be forced to stop and make small talk with her also.
Emilios did not usually have to endure these sessions, and the older brother could not prevent the smile that played upon his face as he reached the younger. “ Do not look so glum, brother” he said. “And instead be grateful for all the times you have not had to drag your sorry self to these meetings of the wise and wonderful” He clasped his sibling’s shoulder briefly, before flanking him and looking at the rest of the assembled nobles.
“It is a good turn out” he noted, side eying Emilios and wondering if he knew what any of this was about, why his brother had chosen this meet to attend. Irakles, standing with Fotios, was no doubt sewing his intentions right, left and centre as he would always be at such a gathering, but he could not be sure that included his brother. He knew too that he was being lazy in choosing his sibling to talk with, rather than speaking with those others he could see who might be more advantageous to engage in conversation. But there would be time for all that later, and for now he was content to stand with Emilios.
They had not long to wait, before movement began to open the doors to the chambers and get the session underway, and Achilleas straightened as he prepared to file in after the others. “Do not worry, I shall kick you if you fall asleep” he added in an undertone to the man beside him, that smile back again as he moved forward to take his seat.
Fotios might have considered him a chess player... a little puppet master of his own making, as he influenced the subordinates he had under his control to try and effect the events and circumstances around him. His intellect was well regarded in the Senate. His habits of joining women (and sometimes men) in their beds were a common rumour that flurried occasionally around the Court. All such things might have led to a man with an ostentatious presence or who was centre of attention in amongst the circles of nobility. But this just wasn't the case. Irakles had always been front and centre. Whether it was the praise over his courage and military prowess or gossip circulating his live in mistress. Either way, of the two of them, Irakles had always been front and centre. And Fotios was the barely noticed and hardly recognises shadow in the background. Yes, he was spoken of in whispered occasionally and yes he was the Head of his House and held certain sway... but he certainly wasn't a show-boating master of society in the same way Irakles and his nephew Stephanos were.
Fotios found it almost amusing how much like him his nephew was and yet Irakles didn't see any such connection.
Keeping his mouth firmly shut on that topic (after all, a few similarities were far outweighed by the clear superiority of the older Mikaelidas in terms of ability to rule), Fotios simply nodded in an almost demure manner towards Prince Irakles and followed at his instruction, heading towards the open doors that took the men of the nobility plus the immediate female members of royalty (the King's young sisters, Gianna and Xene, as Irakles had managed to convince Elise to stay back at the palace), through and under the large amphitheatre seating and out into the open circular space that was their own air dikastirio.
Moving to go and take his seat where he could be most useful - away from Irakles and within a group of men that he knew well and might be able to influence as and when needed with a clever, murmured comment - Fotios made no exaggerated behaviour that might draw attention his way as he settled down on his stone step and awaited the proceedings to begin.
Outside the arcus, Fotios' wife still stood with Meena, having smiled kindly when her closest friend had complimented her raiment, adding the flashing of her eyes when it came to a comment regarding the Queen Olympia.
"I would think her to arrive with her husband, if she meant to at all." She commented, looking around to see if she could spy the Queen, before looking back towards Meena. "I can't help but wonder what people might think that even the Queen does not support the King in his first large public address..." She offered in a tone of pure concern for the woman and careful to ensure that her volume sounded natural but was able to be heard by a few of the Condos noble lords' wives standing just to one side.
Linking her arm with her friend, Eirini smiled at the woman, biting her lip slightly and then offering a raised chin and an elegant air of haughtiness.
"Let us, indeed, see what there is to be seen of such company, my dearest Meena." Allowing her friend to take the lead in escorting the two of them around the sweeping outer pathway of the arcus where the noble women of Taengea congregated in small groups. As if they were the prey banding together and Eirini and Meena the predators who meandered between the groups attracting their attention, fear and adoring respect.
Olympia might have been the Queen, but it was Eirini and Meena who knew what it meant to rule the Court...
At Irakles’s curt response, Stephanos just laughed. For everything, yes, everything, Irakles had a reason. Whether that reason was somehow to the good of the House or to Taengea itself, Stephanos found it a little difficult to believe that looking resplendent would somehow fix the problems of Greece as a whole, though his uncle certainly seemed to think this was the case. Though he wanted so badly to roll his eyes at Irakles’s back, he didn’t do such a childish thing. Instead he gave a tight smile, and turned away just in time to nearly bump into Lord Fotios.
“My lord,” he said dryly, gave a nod, and watched the bow as Fotios passed him to see to his wife. Rather than follow the prince and lords Fotios and Nikolias where people were still gathering, Stephanos shook his head and placed his hands on his hips, looking around at the near empty amphitheater. Soon it would be filled with the barons and their sons, with women of the court waiting outside. Usually this was such a boring place to be, and while he had no doubt it would become dull towards the middle, he wasn’t eager to face the barons.
His last run in with the entire court in attendance had been not overly encouraging and he didn’t expect this to be much better. He’d defeated the Creed, it was true, but after the death of the Creed leader and the revelation that the Creed had help from somewhere inside the palati, Stephanos had slept a whole lot less soundly than he’d done before - hardly at all.
Before he’d taken to drinking himself to sleep, but as of late, he didn’t want to be that out of his senses, in case Irakles decided to come to Pia’s rooms to finish the job, which was where Stephanos had chosen to sleep every night for the last month. He didn’t want Olympia alone with anyone he didn’t trust, for any reason. She also wasn’t here because he didn’t want her to walk this far from the palati. Perhaps it was over cautious, but with the way life had the tendency of going as of late, he was more than content to be too safe than too reckless.
As he made his way to the platform upon which he would sit and watch over the proceedings, he noticed Lord Gavriil enter and take his seat. There, Stephanos thought. He had at least one person who wasn’t going to stone him if he didn’t get everything perfect.
Those bitter thoughts carried him to the throne and there he sat. It was the motion that would call the rest of the lords and barons in, and would start the proceedings.