The Senate meeting seemed to devolve further and further the longer that Xene stood beside her seated brother, holding to the arm of her younger sister. But she was not paying attention to their proximity any longer. No, her gaze was searching the face of each Senator and Master at the meeting, trying to gauge each one for a reaction. Surprise? Contemplation? Outright fury over utterly baseless accusations? Few yielded anything. Men were good at hiding their intentions. Their thoughts. Their goals.
Even a flick of her gaze toward Fotios of Leventi yielded nothing and it was only her uncle's furthering of the meeting with so-called "evidence" that brought her back to the discussion at hand. Xene fixed Irakles with a calculating gaze that reeked of distrust. She would not hide her disdain for her own uncle, her hand once more squeezing Gianna's hand as if she could tell that her sibling was struggling behind her. A very casual movement of her free hand to take hold of Gianna's arm and keep her steady on her feet was the only additional sign of affection and support that she gave in those moments.
The princess herself had scoured Zacharias' rooms long prior to the stated time of when this evidence was collected. Having been disgusted with the state of her late brother's chambers, Xene had taken it upon herself to tidy up, to search for clues, to find anything that could have told her what really happened to her eldest brother. She had found only letters. There had been no bloody clothing to find in Zacharias' room. Resting her blue gaze on the servant woman, Xene found herself observing everything about her. Xene liked to think herself knowledgable of more slaves and servants within the Palati. This girl's face was lost on her. Forgettable. A perfect individual to plant in order to further an accusation that held no truth behind it.
With each piece of evidence, Xene found it harder and harder to keep her own composure in front of the Senate. To think that the Mikaelidas tendency for harsh tempers had completely skipped the eldest princess was a falsity. Xene could snap just as easily as her brother. Her destroyed chambers after the deaths of her brother and father had been an exhibit of just that. Though those facts had been quickly hidden. Xene liked to think that no one knew just how quickly her mental state could shift and shatter her reality about her.
Xene was still a grieving daughter and sister. She had not taken proper steps to ensure that she would keep her mental faculties in the event that further harm came to their family. But the sentencing thrown at their feet, for Stephanos and Olympia, was enough to remind her that she was not well. That she was still voraciously angry with the world. And with each hand raised against her brother, Xene could feel her world twisting beneath her feet.
But Stephanos was on his feet in a move far faster than she could comprehend, streaking across the room and landing the blow to Irakles. Their uncle in name and blood, but in nothing else did they share commonalities. Absolutely nothing.
Xene forced herself to watch her brother being escorted from the meeting, her feet planted and her gaze never leaving his back. She gave no consideration to her Uncle despite how hard Stephanos had hit him. Her only course of action was to free herself from the entire situation. Forcing her hands off of her sister, Xene went so far as to bow to her younger sibling before turning on her heel and following the men who had already left out of the room.
She would not cast her gaze back.
Xene only allowed herself to stare at the back of her brother, the back of Fotios of Leventi, and away from the faces of everyone standing outside of the building. Heron caught up with her. Putting himself between her and people who tried to reach for her and ask the outcome of the meeting. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. So much anger simmered under her skin that she couldn't look anyone in the eye... all hidden by a perfect mask of propriety and impassiveness.
Xene did not calm down even when the doors to her rooms were closed. And Heron did not move from in front of her door even when the sound of something shattering rang out down the hall of the Palati.
Even a flick of her gaze toward Fotios of Leventi yielded nothing and it was only her uncle's furthering of the meeting with so-called "evidence" that brought her back to the discussion at hand. Xene fixed Irakles with a calculating gaze that reeked of distrust. She would not hide her disdain for her own uncle, her hand once more squeezing Gianna's hand as if she could tell that her sibling was struggling behind her. A very casual movement of her free hand to take hold of Gianna's arm and keep her steady on her feet was the only additional sign of affection and support that she gave in those moments.
The princess herself had scoured Zacharias' rooms long prior to the stated time of when this evidence was collected. Having been disgusted with the state of her late brother's chambers, Xene had taken it upon herself to tidy up, to search for clues, to find anything that could have told her what really happened to her eldest brother. She had found only letters. There had been no bloody clothing to find in Zacharias' room. Resting her blue gaze on the servant woman, Xene found herself observing everything about her. Xene liked to think herself knowledgable of more slaves and servants within the Palati. This girl's face was lost on her. Forgettable. A perfect individual to plant in order to further an accusation that held no truth behind it.
With each piece of evidence, Xene found it harder and harder to keep her own composure in front of the Senate. To think that the Mikaelidas tendency for harsh tempers had completely skipped the eldest princess was a falsity. Xene could snap just as easily as her brother. Her destroyed chambers after the deaths of her brother and father had been an exhibit of just that. Though those facts had been quickly hidden. Xene liked to think that no one knew just how quickly her mental state could shift and shatter her reality about her.
Xene was still a grieving daughter and sister. She had not taken proper steps to ensure that she would keep her mental faculties in the event that further harm came to their family. But the sentencing thrown at their feet, for Stephanos and Olympia, was enough to remind her that she was not well. That she was still voraciously angry with the world. And with each hand raised against her brother, Xene could feel her world twisting beneath her feet.
But Stephanos was on his feet in a move far faster than she could comprehend, streaking across the room and landing the blow to Irakles. Their uncle in name and blood, but in nothing else did they share commonalities. Absolutely nothing.
Xene forced herself to watch her brother being escorted from the meeting, her feet planted and her gaze never leaving his back. She gave no consideration to her Uncle despite how hard Stephanos had hit him. Her only course of action was to free herself from the entire situation. Forcing her hands off of her sister, Xene went so far as to bow to her younger sibling before turning on her heel and following the men who had already left out of the room.
She would not cast her gaze back.
Xene only allowed herself to stare at the back of her brother, the back of Fotios of Leventi, and away from the faces of everyone standing outside of the building. Heron caught up with her. Putting himself between her and people who tried to reach for her and ask the outcome of the meeting. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't do it. So much anger simmered under her skin that she couldn't look anyone in the eye... all hidden by a perfect mask of propriety and impassiveness.
Xene did not calm down even when the doors to her rooms were closed. And Heron did not move from in front of her door even when the sound of something shattering rang out down the hall of the Palati.