Like a shadow, Meena lingered in the background as the events of court unfolded before her. When Irakles informed her that the Egyptian general would be visiting, Meena couldn’t ignore the excitement that she felt. She was well aware of the hard feelings that floated around amongst both sides, but she was never one to let such distant, political hostility get to her. Afterall, her vendettas were usually personal. Besides, it wasn’t as if nothing had ever happened in Taengea it was just, well... Nothing ever happened. So, she pounced at the chance to organize, much less attend, the reception ceremony for the Egyptian embassy whenever Irakles had so graciously requested her presence and helping hand in the matter. She’d spent a good portion of the evening greeting guests and ensuring that all was in place for the Egpytians’ arrival, only to slink away to steal a few desired moments alone.
An elegant, deep navy peplos, reminiscent of the night sky, hung from her frame. Small flecks of silver fanned out across the celestial fabric, creating almost a soft overlay of sheen. A slit in the gown enhanced her smooth movements, exposing the shape and curve of her leg. The silky fabric clung sweetly to her bodice, merely embellishing the provocative dip of her waist, before falling into a straight line to the floor at the peak of her hips. Lining the bottom of the gown were an array of silver, gold, and glass beads all glistening and chiming with each step. Ornate silver fibulae, fashioned after a sprig of three laurel leaves, were pinned at her shoulders and her neckline dipped teasingly low, though not quite pure decolletage. A silver necklace rested just above the dip to her bosoms and at its center - a stunning, luminescent opal with a silvery-blue sheen. Like stars, silver earrings dangled from her lobes and never ceased to catch the light with each turn of her head whilst silver bands were fastened around both upper arms. Her jewelry, less ostentatious than usual, only served as adornment on an already exquisitely beautiful woman. It was a line of elegance and seduction that she’d long ago learned to walk, not entirely scandalous, but enough to turn heads.
Her olive complexion set nicely against the regal deep blue and silvery colors that she wore. Her smooth face was confidently fresh of any makeup, save for an outline atop her eyes which only enhanced her dark lashes and amber-toned orbs. Deep umber, loose curls were swept over to one side with silver, pearl pins. A coy smile ever-toying at her lips and her eyes lit with something secret and wild, Meena glowed with an unbridled spirit, a feat most of the noble women in that court would never have. Once a girl sold to a whorehouse as the guarantor of her father’s debts, Meena had become something of a force to be reckoned with throughout her years, if only out of spite to the other women.
That is why her heart sang and a gleam peeked through her eyes whenever the eldest Leventi girl came out into view with the ensemble that she wore. Meena’s golden goblet paused at her lips as she gleefully took in the spectacle that played out before her. If she were not otherwise preoccupied with drinking on the sidelines, she very well would have fallen into a fit of laughter. She couldn’t stifle the snort that she gave whenever the young noble procured a string of stares, coupled with both horror and awe from the crowd.
Selene, much like few of the other women, was beautiful in her own right. But, Meena couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen the noblewoman dressed so provocatively, if ever. It was both beautiful and terrifying and Meena’s brow raised when the question of what the woman could be planning arose. For no woman, no matter how beautiful, would flaunt herself like that without an ulterior motive. Whether it be simple self-satisfaction of knowing that you can steal a man’s eye or something more sinister... Meena knew better than anyone the power gained by means of seduction - otherwise seen as self-deprivation in the eyes of others. But, Meena had always thought of it as a wild, passionate confidence that was unbiased with who it drew in. Perhaps, that is why she could so openly be who she was. Either way, she was the last person to fault Selene and silently cheered the vixen on from the sidelines, coming to the conclusion that she was either loose from the wine or the entire scenario was truly that hilarious.
Her attention waivered to Irakles as he brought Myrto forefront to the Egyption general. Seventeen years, and she still couldn’t rid herself of the irritation that she felt every time she looked at the woman. It wasn’t that she saw her as a threat, but more of an obsolete piece in Irakles’ puzzle of plans. Yet, she didn’t envy the woman’s position. She could never suffer being married, let alone married to a man like Irakles. She rather enjoyed the freedom she had in life. She was free to act out in her wild ways without the restraints of society. For nothing was ever shocking if a whore did such things.
Lost in her thoughts she almost missed Urjarak. Her head dipped in as the man beckoned her forward. It was time. She took a final sip from the goblet before placing it on a silver tray. Meena’s stride was slow and deliberate towards her lover. Her head was held high, as always, and her eyes flickered with untamed fire as she passed through the parting of people. Making her approach she allowed her keen gaze to set upon the Leventi’s giving her own greeting with a kind smile before sweeping over Irakles and resting on the Sirdar.
He was much taller than she’d anticipated and had this been under different circumstances she might have even gushed at him, bombarding him with questions about his culture and people. But pride and gaining of class kept her lips sealed as they curved into a coy smile and her eyes flickered upwards at Irakles’ introduction. “Welcome, Sirdar.” She greeted warmly, her words effortlessly falling from her lips before honoring him with respectful bow. Afterwards, her head tilted slightly as she took in the sight of his dress, very aware of their differentiating cultures before casting him an intriguing smile. “How do you fare here?” She was sure that the man must miss home, as anyone rightfully would. “Is Taengea even comparable to the majesty that Egypt is said to be?”
An elegant, deep navy peplos, reminiscent of the night sky, hung from her frame. Small flecks of silver fanned out across the celestial fabric, creating almost a soft overlay of sheen. A slit in the gown enhanced her smooth movements, exposing the shape and curve of her leg. The silky fabric clung sweetly to her bodice, merely embellishing the provocative dip of her waist, before falling into a straight line to the floor at the peak of her hips. Lining the bottom of the gown were an array of silver, gold, and glass beads all glistening and chiming with each step. Ornate silver fibulae, fashioned after a sprig of three laurel leaves, were pinned at her shoulders and her neckline dipped teasingly low, though not quite pure decolletage. A silver necklace rested just above the dip to her bosoms and at its center - a stunning, luminescent opal with a silvery-blue sheen. Like stars, silver earrings dangled from her lobes and never ceased to catch the light with each turn of her head whilst silver bands were fastened around both upper arms. Her jewelry, less ostentatious than usual, only served as adornment on an already exquisitely beautiful woman. It was a line of elegance and seduction that she’d long ago learned to walk, not entirely scandalous, but enough to turn heads.
Her olive complexion set nicely against the regal deep blue and silvery colors that she wore. Her smooth face was confidently fresh of any makeup, save for an outline atop her eyes which only enhanced her dark lashes and amber-toned orbs. Deep umber, loose curls were swept over to one side with silver, pearl pins. A coy smile ever-toying at her lips and her eyes lit with something secret and wild, Meena glowed with an unbridled spirit, a feat most of the noble women in that court would never have. Once a girl sold to a whorehouse as the guarantor of her father’s debts, Meena had become something of a force to be reckoned with throughout her years, if only out of spite to the other women.
That is why her heart sang and a gleam peeked through her eyes whenever the eldest Leventi girl came out into view with the ensemble that she wore. Meena’s golden goblet paused at her lips as she gleefully took in the spectacle that played out before her. If she were not otherwise preoccupied with drinking on the sidelines, she very well would have fallen into a fit of laughter. She couldn’t stifle the snort that she gave whenever the young noble procured a string of stares, coupled with both horror and awe from the crowd.
Selene, much like few of the other women, was beautiful in her own right. But, Meena couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen the noblewoman dressed so provocatively, if ever. It was both beautiful and terrifying and Meena’s brow raised when the question of what the woman could be planning arose. For no woman, no matter how beautiful, would flaunt herself like that without an ulterior motive. Whether it be simple self-satisfaction of knowing that you can steal a man’s eye or something more sinister... Meena knew better than anyone the power gained by means of seduction - otherwise seen as self-deprivation in the eyes of others. But, Meena had always thought of it as a wild, passionate confidence that was unbiased with who it drew in. Perhaps, that is why she could so openly be who she was. Either way, she was the last person to fault Selene and silently cheered the vixen on from the sidelines, coming to the conclusion that she was either loose from the wine or the entire scenario was truly that hilarious.
Her attention waivered to Irakles as he brought Myrto forefront to the Egyption general. Seventeen years, and she still couldn’t rid herself of the irritation that she felt every time she looked at the woman. It wasn’t that she saw her as a threat, but more of an obsolete piece in Irakles’ puzzle of plans. Yet, she didn’t envy the woman’s position. She could never suffer being married, let alone married to a man like Irakles. She rather enjoyed the freedom she had in life. She was free to act out in her wild ways without the restraints of society. For nothing was ever shocking if a whore did such things.
Lost in her thoughts she almost missed Urjarak. Her head dipped in as the man beckoned her forward. It was time. She took a final sip from the goblet before placing it on a silver tray. Meena’s stride was slow and deliberate towards her lover. Her head was held high, as always, and her eyes flickered with untamed fire as she passed through the parting of people. Making her approach she allowed her keen gaze to set upon the Leventi’s giving her own greeting with a kind smile before sweeping over Irakles and resting on the Sirdar.
He was much taller than she’d anticipated and had this been under different circumstances she might have even gushed at him, bombarding him with questions about his culture and people. But pride and gaining of class kept her lips sealed as they curved into a coy smile and her eyes flickered upwards at Irakles’ introduction. “Welcome, Sirdar.” She greeted warmly, her words effortlessly falling from her lips before honoring him with respectful bow. Afterwards, her head tilted slightly as she took in the sight of his dress, very aware of their differentiating cultures before casting him an intriguing smile. “How do you fare here?” She was sure that the man must miss home, as anyone rightfully would. “Is Taengea even comparable to the majesty that Egypt is said to be?”