The way events were turning out was a little frightening. Irakles had invited himself over to dinner and insinuated that the king was unfit to rule. That had made Gavriil a little nervous. The events at the arcus had not served to lessen his unease at all and with the Egyptian contingency due to arrive, he felt that he really needed to hear the king's side of things.
King Stephanos and his wife were on house arrest, however and with Irakles essentially ruling at the moment, he did not feel it prudent to go actually visit the king. Truly, he didn’t want to be seen with either the dowager queen or the king’s sisters. This was why he had sent a verbal message through a random servant to go and fetch the princess’s handmaiden. This was a close enough, and loose enough link, he’d decided, to get a message through to the king.
Perhaps she would even bring a note back to him from the king, if the man deigned to answer. He stood in the palati gardens, under the shade of a tree with one hand folded over the other. His gaze wandered impassively along the branch of the fruit tree, following the long limb to its tip where leaves fluttered in the breeze. It reminded him of home. The vivid greens, nearly yellow with the sun shining through them.
At the approach of footsteps, Gavriil half turned, expecting to see the girl but only saw an advisor and the advisor’s mistress instead. He looked away. The level of uncouthness within this palace was staggering. It was why he didn’t like his son or daughters to come to court hardly at all. Obviously that made it difficult to find them suitable matches.
His gaze wandered from the advisor to the bushes and fountains and statues of various gods and goddesses that adorned the garden. This was truly a beautiful place and he understood its power of seduction on the weaker willed populace. He sighed. He could not wait to leave the capitol, with its intrigues and poisonous words. Even sending this note felt like he was sullying his hands a little bit but what could he do? He needed information. A decision must be reached on the part of the Dimitrou family, on which side of this they would support.
Nephele of Meganea
King Stephanos and his wife were on house arrest, however and with Irakles essentially ruling at the moment, he did not feel it prudent to go actually visit the king. Truly, he didn’t want to be seen with either the dowager queen or the king’s sisters. This was why he had sent a verbal message through a random servant to go and fetch the princess’s handmaiden. This was a close enough, and loose enough link, he’d decided, to get a message through to the king.
Perhaps she would even bring a note back to him from the king, if the man deigned to answer. He stood in the palati gardens, under the shade of a tree with one hand folded over the other. His gaze wandered impassively along the branch of the fruit tree, following the long limb to its tip where leaves fluttered in the breeze. It reminded him of home. The vivid greens, nearly yellow with the sun shining through them.
At the approach of footsteps, Gavriil half turned, expecting to see the girl but only saw an advisor and the advisor’s mistress instead. He looked away. The level of uncouthness within this palace was staggering. It was why he didn’t like his son or daughters to come to court hardly at all. Obviously that made it difficult to find them suitable matches.
His gaze wandered from the advisor to the bushes and fountains and statues of various gods and goddesses that adorned the garden. This was truly a beautiful place and he understood its power of seduction on the weaker willed populace. He sighed. He could not wait to leave the capitol, with its intrigues and poisonous words. Even sending this note felt like he was sullying his hands a little bit but what could he do? He needed information. A decision must be reached on the part of the Dimitrou family, on which side of this they would support.
Nephele of Meganea