The senate meeting the day before had caused an absolute uproar in the city once word trickled out. The king was accused of murder his own father and brother for the throne. Could that be so? Would Prince Stephanos have done that? No...whispers circulated. They all knew their prince. He had been
The day after the king found himself on house arrest was the day that Gavriil thought it best to go to the palati. He had many, many questions for Prince Irakles. The prince had mentioned that he was living in the palati now, ostensibly to help the king. But as the king was not able to perform his duties, it was left to Irakles to do this. Which meant that Gavriil needed to go to Irakles, and not have the other come to him.
He was wary getting up that morning. The events of the day before, of the king being accused of murdering his own father and brother for the throne, - more than accused -, the baron mused as he washed his face. Evidence had been presented like the whole thing had been a mini trial. The execution of it hadn’t sat well with him. It still didn’t this morning, even after a night’s reflection. There was evidence, though, so he couldn’t ignore Prince Irakles’s claims out of hand. But he did have questions.
The items themselves? Perhaps those were not strong enough on their own, but witnesses. Those were a little more difficult to ignore. And three on top of it...He stared at his reflection in the looking glass and sighed. These intrigues were more than exhausting. They were draining. He felt like the longer he stayed in the city, the harder it was to stick to his moral compass.
The hour was early. Too early to call on Prince Irakles yet. Gavriil spent as much time as he could stand on his appearance. His hair was pulled back and affixed simply with a leather strap. His beard was combed and trimmed close, and the himation he wore was a deep, enthralling green; a symbol of both his house and his wealth, as green was a difficult color to come by.
Once the hour was suitable, though still a little early, he went down to the stables and rode his mare up to the palati. He was not the only one going to be at court today. The advisors were already present, as well as an increased number of guards. Barons and their wives, their daughters, their sons, were all milling about. The sea of people were tense and he could feel it in himself as well.
It had been an incredible shock to have their monarch assassinated. It was heavier still to find the son being the one accused of doing it. He got down off his horse, handed her off to a stable hand, and began his ascent up the stairs. He thought he felt someone following him but he elected to ignore the sensation. His mind and purpose were on Irakles; not gadding about with whomever wanted to talk.
The day after the king found himself on house arrest was the day that Gavriil thought it best to go to the palati. He had many, many questions for Prince Irakles. The prince had mentioned that he was living in the palati now, ostensibly to help the king. But as the king was not able to perform his duties, it was left to Irakles to do this. Which meant that Gavriil needed to go to Irakles, and not have the other come to him.
He was wary getting up that morning. The events of the day before, of the king being accused of murdering his own father and brother for the throne, - more than accused -, the baron mused as he washed his face. Evidence had been presented like the whole thing had been a mini trial. The execution of it hadn’t sat well with him. It still didn’t this morning, even after a night’s reflection. There was evidence, though, so he couldn’t ignore Prince Irakles’s claims out of hand. But he did have questions.
The items themselves? Perhaps those were not strong enough on their own, but witnesses. Those were a little more difficult to ignore. And three on top of it...He stared at his reflection in the looking glass and sighed. These intrigues were more than exhausting. They were draining. He felt like the longer he stayed in the city, the harder it was to stick to his moral compass.
The hour was early. Too early to call on Prince Irakles yet. Gavriil spent as much time as he could stand on his appearance. His hair was pulled back and affixed simply with a leather strap. His beard was combed and trimmed close, and the himation he wore was a deep, enthralling green; a symbol of both his house and his wealth, as green was a difficult color to come by.
Once the hour was suitable, though still a little early, he went down to the stables and rode his mare up to the palati. He was not the only one going to be at court today. The advisors were already present, as well as an increased number of guards. Barons and their wives, their daughters, their sons, were all milling about. The sea of people were tense and he could feel it in himself as well.
It had been an incredible shock to have their monarch assassinated. It was heavier still to find the son being the one accused of doing it. He got down off his horse, handed her off to a stable hand, and began his ascent up the stairs. He thought he felt someone following him but he elected to ignore the sensation. His mind and purpose were on Irakles; not gadding about with whomever wanted to talk.