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Did she have to get more aggressive? Was this gaining a name problem ever going to have a solution? The outing of the bastard daughter of the household had given Roxana mixed feelings. Tim was claiming her, that had to be a good thing, right? But, announcing that she was their bastard to others didn't necessarily mean he was proud of her. It could mean that he was just tired of hiding it and it was about time everyone knew that their house had reason to be ashamed. Maybe it was that he was trying to just get ahead of the gossip curve and take the wind out of their sails. That thought depressed her.
She had to get out of the house for awhile and be depressed out of Tim's sight or anyone else. She didn't want to be asked if anything was wrong or to be cheered. A house full of people was too much sometimes and Roxana was more of an introvert by necessity. Her parentage defined her and she didn't want it to anymore. Sure, Tim was also defined by his parents but n a way that gave him freedom. He could make himself a villain or well respected man based on his personal merit. Roxana was a villain by default.
Her feet sunk into the soft sand as she got closer to the shore and finally she found herself stepping into the salty water, allowing the cool water to be sopped up by the hem of her dress. The sea sounds relaxed her and she found some solace in them. Though none of this solved her problems, they made them seem further away for a time and that would have to be enough.
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He moved along the beach, barefoot, letting the surf surge around his ankles. His pants were soaked up to his knees. In one hand, he carried his boots. In the other hand, he carried a few small shells. Every so often, he would lean down and pick up a new shell. As he walked, he turned the new shell over to inspect it and if he liked it, he’d add it to the ones already safely riding in his palm. If he didn’t, he tossed it back down and thought of it no more. Once his hand was full, he put the shells in his pocket and started over.
He looked up and scanned the empty beach. It stretched as far out as he could see, with nothing and noone for what felt like miles. This was a the time of day when no one but priests and priestesses would be in the temples. The caverns containing the three temples of Hades, Ares, and Aphrodite lay behind him. Not where he’d come from, but he had passed the awning mouth of the cave and glanced into its depths. Bronze bowls had burned, lighting a fiery path way to guide the devoted toward the dwelling of their god of choice. Lukos believed that the gods existed, but he didn’t usually offer prayers to any of them, save Poseidon, and even then, only if he really needed something.
Bending back down, he scooped up a partial shell of an oyster and turned it over in the early morning light. The inside of the oyster shell gave off an iridescent sheen of pink, purple, and green. This was what kept his attention as he stepped forward again. When he looked up, he was a little surprised to find he was no longer alone.
The slender form of a young woman stood in the waves as though she’d been born from them. His gaze swept the beach again. There was no one around her, or with her. He glanced back, making sure he was still alone. It was just the two of them. From this distance, it was hard to gauge exactly how old she was, or what she looked like. All he could really tell was that she had brown hair, though the closer he came, the more he could see that she was a pretty looking person and the expression on her face seemed rife with doubt.
Curiosity got the better of him and rather than moving out of the way so that he could go around her, he kept up his meandering pace, still dipping down for shells whenever he spotted an interesting one. Once he was within speaking distance, he said, “Are you a sea nymph?” he half smiled, not totally sure what he’d do if he actually came upon a nymph. If she was one, likely she’d dart away from him or turn right into sea foam.
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Roxana was prone to impulsive decisions. Today was no exception. She let her emotions get the better of her and said or did something she later regretted. Usually, it consisted of giving someone the slip and not being subject to their rules or scrutiny. This world she lived in had plenty of both. Most never thought twice about their births. Most people weren't half and half. They accepted their lot as a have or have not. Roxana saw both worlds dangled before her. One was a life of nobility and privilege, curtsied to upon meeting, serving at parties, respecting without question. The other was one of low expectations, of serving the privileged, performing the curtsies, and having little respect without question.
Propriety said she should live the latter life but the privileged had taken her in, taught her the life of the haves before she was old enough to understand it didn't belong to her. Or more accurately, she didn't belong to it. It was their fault she wanted it, knew it existed, saw its benefits and desired them. Now, she might miss another benefit. Would a princess allow her to be in her service after all? It seemed to good to be true that Princess Evras asked Roxana to come live with her as a Lady's Maid.
All of these thoughts were quickly replaced with self admonishment for her most recent impulsive decision as she realized she was with an escort on the beach as a man approached her. She swallowed, trying to gauge if he was aggressive or one of the desperate have nots who might take advantage of what he thought was a have.
“Are you a sea nymph?”
She narrowed her hazel eyes, "One day, perhaps." Only time would tell if her impulsive decision to flirt rather than stick her nose in the air would prove a poor one as well, "Poseidon might claim me yet if I stay by the sea too long." She tilted her head, "What God has claimed you if any?" Staying as confident as she could, she chose not to veer out of his way as he closed the distance, looking at shells now and then. He would likely soon ask who she was and that was never an easy question to answer.
"Who has nothing to do today but shell hunting, sir?" She asked him who he was instead, hoping to put off the inevitable and figure out a way to respond to it.
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