She hadn’t expected Vangelis to be there. Sure, he was a crowned prince and being at an event like that seemed to make sense. But she had known a bit about the history between the two countries. And it wouldn’t have surprised her if he decided not to attend, simply because he had no desire to talk to the Egyptians at all. She didn’t pretend to understand the ways of men and their need to fight wars. But she would have safely assumed that he would have preferred to avoid the tension altogether.
So when she heard him, words so firmly said behind her, there was a slight flush to her cheeks. She didn’t even get much of a chance to acknowledge him.
Before she could say anything, Selene felt his hand on the small of her back, leading her away from the group towards a more private setting. Which, in her mind, made no sense— the last thing he had seemed to want was to be alone with her so intimately. The pressure of his hand, even protected by the silks of her dress, felt far more than a friendly gesture. She did her best to keep her face appearing passive as they moved through the crowd. But she was slightly irritated.
He had caused her to appear rude. She didn’t like that one bit.
As soon as they were around the corner, far enough from prying eyes, she stepped back from him. Arms crossed in front of her, obviously put out by his display. ”And what, pray tell, was that about, Vangelis?” She asked. If anyone had told her that she would have been so blunt with him in her frustration, Selene wouldn’t have believed them. Perhaps it was the wine, or the renewed attention from a handsome man, but she was feeling less than formal with the friend she was alone with now.
It was then that she remembered the plan, and her sister above. Curls bounced as she shook her head, ”Never mind,” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what his answer would have been. ”Are you aware of what is going on with Stephanos and Pia?” She asked plainly, suddenly not afraid to beat around the bush about the topic on her mind. ”That Irakles has placed them under house arrest. And that he most likely will have them killed before the trial?” She moved closer to him, so close that she could smell the soap on his skin.
She had to focus on her goal— getting his assistance in the matter. Perhaps he could provide aid to Alastair, who was certain that his plan would be enough to see the pair off to Colchis. Involving Vangelis in this matter seemed important, since the usurped royals would be hidden on his land.
Selene's shock and surprise at his escorting her away from the centre of the social milling of the wealthy and powerful, was clear in her manner of step. Whilst she never moved into the territory of clumsy - for her steps were always carefully placed and her carriage that of a woman trained to be of the highest noble status - her movements were a little sharper than normal, less fluid. And clearly indicated that she was being directed away from the Egyptian and his welcoming part under duress. Not that anyone not close enough to witness the little twitches of her chiton as she moved or the sharp angle of her shoulders would notice.
Though, he wasn't entirely sure where he was directing her to. In fact, there wasn't really a destination in mind. It was more a case of moving her away from the group temporarily but then his thought process registering that he couldn't simply move her five paces to the left and stand still within the gallery without due cause. By leaving the room altogether it appeared that they had business elsewhere and saved them both the embarrassment of halting without destination. Why he had walked with her at all in the first place, he didn't have much of a solution to.
Which, naturally, became Selene's first query as soon as they were alone in a servants’ corridor that led away from the great gallery.
What had it been about?
Vangelis didn't have a whole lot of an answer besides the fact that he knew Sirdar Moghdam to be one of the most ruthless men he had ever met on opposing sides of the battlefield. And given his easy and flirtation with the Taengean noble women, he could only assume that such a determination to win; such stubborn and destructive attempts to secure victory, were not limited to the work of Ares. And Vangelis was not interested in seeing his friend become some kind of quest and conquest to a foreign invader.
Considering if he should open his mouth to declare that a man who caused bloodshed with such ease was not one that he recommended Selene acquaint herself with, and struggling for a moment with the hypocrisy of that statement, Vangelis wasn't able to form his response before Selene was already dismissing it. The shake of her head, setting her blonde hair rippling and catching the mid-afternoon sunshine through the windows as it shook, had him snapping his mouth shut.
Instead, she seemed to take the opportunity to turn the conversation to a subject she found (understandably) more pressing and Vangelis felt his features lock down upon her topic of choice. It appeared her would have to go around such a conversation with a second daughter of Leventi.
He listened as she spoke, not breaking eye contact, showing her very clearly that she had his full attention. His eyes had lost their sheen a little and the corners of his mouth had hardened, pressing his lips into a firm line. But otherwise he appeared entirely focused, his hand removing itself from her person and falling to rest at his belt, as she asked him if he was aware of Prince Irakles' plans for the King and Queen.
"Yes, I am." He answered, simply enough, unable to offer her anything else by way of comforting detail or likely the heroic rescues endeavour she was hoping he would provide...
She was hoping for more of a response than just ‘yes’. Perhaps she was hoping that he would tell her that he had already worked up a plan that would get them out of the palati and off to safety. Or perhaps that there was always a plan in place, one that was happening right under her nose.
But his stance, the honest and straight laced way he told her that he knew— it all made it very apparent that she was not the only person who had asked. There was a bit of irritation in his voice. It confused her, but she didn’t press the issue.
In the back of her mind, she was curious who had already come to him for help. And what they were told by the prince.
”Oh.” There had been a touch of hope in the back of her mind. She was sure that her face dropped a bit with the comment. ”Have you spoken to Stephanos then?” Selene took a step closer to him, wanting to see his face as he answered. She had spent enough time with him to know the looks he wore. She knew when he was frustrated or annoyed. But she could tell that he hadn’t.
And that he had no plan to assist the King.
”So assuming that you have a plan for their escape was wrong? There is nothing?” The hope that had been there was completely gone.
Vangelis stared down at Selene. This conversation, despite the fact that it was happening for a second time over, was harder than the first. Theodora was an elegant and gentle young woman, who he had not enjoyed disappointing. Despite being a man who worked hard on maintaining his frightening image of the "Blood General" in the hopes that such a reputation would save more lives than it harmed, he had never enjoyed playing the villain, nor being frightening. He had grown to simply tune our such reactions and continue living and acting as he did, knowing it was for the greater good.
But there was a strong difference between when someone feared him. And when someone was disappointed by him. And he had found over the course of the last few days that he did not like the latter one bit. Used to being the man who supported the weight of Colchis' future... he did not like the idea that he had failed somehow in the eyes of those who might otherwise respect him. Theodora had been unpleasant for she he did not know her on a personal level. The same look on Selene's face had him upset at the betrayal he sensed within her and his emotions growing defensive. He had done so much for her family already. It was tragedy. But he was not able to do something about it this time, without risking his own people. And a childish part of his psyche insisted that it was unfair of her to request him to risk those he held dear in exchange for those that she did.
"No." He told her with finality. "There is nothing in place to save your sister and Stephanos." His expression shut down a little further, as he fell back on his convictions, without further explanation beyond the following- "There is nothing anyone can do to help them, Selene. As hard as it may be, you should try to let them go." They had lost the game that was the political field and the only ending to such a loss was death. This was what happened when you played the game of crowns with someone more experienced than yourself. That was the reasoning and justification that Vangelis had been saying to himself over and again since Theodora had left the Order House the previous night.
Her head was shaking the moment she heard his denial in a plan. That couldn’t be his answer, couldn’t be the only thing left to do. He had to have some sort of plan, for she had always known him to have a set plan in his mind. Accepting this as a defeat certainly didn’t sit well with him, but she missed that look on his face.
She couldn’t hide the shift of emotions, not around him, not when her entire night had been doing just that.
Selene was surprised at how suddenly she could forget the kiss.
”No.” Her denial was just as firm as his own, head still shaking. “Let then go? That is my only option? Watch as they die the death of traitors, murdered? How can you stand by and let that be the answer? Stephanos has been a loyal friend to you.” Whereas Theo would have backed away, Selene stepped closer to him again. ”You expect me to just accept my sister’s murder?”
But where there may have been tears in her eyes, there was both determination and fury. ”Why pull me away in the first place if not to give a solution?” She wasn’t mad about being dragged away from the party— she was angry that now her own plan had been disturbed.
As Selene stepped closer to his person, Vangelis straightened. He didn't back away - for her had never backed away from anything in his life, least not a woman. But the lengthening of his spine had him towering tall and remaining as far from her as would allow without his feet moving. Her drawing closer was, in this case, not a mark of affection but one of defiance and attack. His jaw hardened and his eyes grew firm as she denied the possibility of ever accepting the loss of her friends. He gave no reaction throughout her little speech barring a twitch of his lower eyelid when she threw in his face that Stephanos had been a loyal friend to him and that his lack of action now was in some way a betrayal.
"My friendships with any and all, hold true." He told her, his tone soft and without an edge of argument. His emotions of personal defensiveness and the determination that her accusations were unfair were hidden away deep, his words left to come out with calm logic and stoic indifference. How else was he to discuss his only option of leaving a friend to die? "I have saved each of the lives you now claim me to be letting die. I think I have proven my personal determination to protect my friends." He stated. He swallowed. "But you ask me now not to save your sister but also to defy the peace treaty between our kingdoms. I am not a single individual, Selene. I am crown prince of my realm and I have those I care for too. My people." His eyes flashed for a moment as his emotions came through on that last sentence, but he brought them under control quickly enough. "I have done much for your family and that of Stephanos' but what you ask of me now is too much."
When she threw at him the fact that he had drawn her to one side, he blinked and shifted his head as if to dismiss the question.
"I pulled you away because the man you were speaking with is a dangerous killer who was eyeing you as his next conquest." His eyes were tempted to drift to that dress again to prove his point, but Vangelis held more control than that and kept them focused on her face.
While, to her, he seemed void of emotions, Selene felt safe allowing the full scope of her feelings to pour from her. There was no reason for her to pretend, not while they were alone like this. And, regardless of her growing emotions for him, they had promised honesty around the other: she didn’t need the pretense that she carried like a sword.
No, here her weapon could be her words. And it was apparent that she had no issue with wielding them.
”Is a treaty with a usurper worth keeping?” She bit back bitterly, fully aware that she lacked the political training and background that he did. ”Do you think that he would not stab you in the back the moment it was of advantage to him? That he will give your people any consideration, should he set his sights on Colchis?” The boat ride back from Serenn had given her nothing but time to fume on their situation, to hope that he had a plan. And it all came crashing down as she began to realize not just the fate of her sister, but her own fate as well.
”So I am to, what, mourn their loss and accept Irakles as my King? A man who killed his own brother and nephews to gain the throne?” She stepped back a pace, not because of his stance but because she needed to move. The energy she had been holding in most of the night, fiery and hot, was turning into ice in her chest. ”That I observe the mourning period? Then what? My uncle and Irakles are close confidantes— you do not think that I won’t then become a pawn to whatever he wishes? Married off to some loyal baron who voted in his favor, that is my fate?” Each turn of her frustrated march caused the fabric to swirl around her, exposing more of her hips and back as she did.
”It would be a welcome victory, Vangelis, if it took me from Greece. I would not know how to live in a country where my sister’s life was disposable.” If this was the only answer, to let her sister die, then Egypt was seemingly a far better option for her. She wouldn’t be constantly reminded of her, or of (what felt like) his betrayal of their friendship.
Now, Vangelis was annoyed. While she might not have meant to - and some small part of his brain was trying to communicate to him that that was the case - Selene's anger and grief at the situation was having her words spill out with lack of control and lack of consideration for the insults they secretly harboured. He didn't react, didn't reach out... and instead of folding his arms defensively across his chest, Vangelis simply stood with his hands behind his back, his posture one of a soldier and one of calm acceptance. He would not appear defensive not antagonistic with her. But he also would not limit his words.
"You must think little of the strength of Colchis if you believe a Taengean king, usurper or not would turn on the kingdom that welds his weapons and provides his coin." He told her, his patriotism in his homeland stung that she would either believe Irakles stupid enough to attempt such an invasion or that Colchis was weak enough that such an escapade was a smart venture. He went on. "Regardless of what you think, there is also zero proof of your allegations towards Prince Irakles." He told her, his eyes darting both ways down the corridor to ensure that she had not been overheard. Her life could be taken for such accusations. "A man in my position must serve towards that which is fact, Selene. Recognised by the political state of a kingdom. Not necessarily what is true. Your grief is making you naive." This last he said with a tone of harshness, as if trying to shock her into realising the error of her statements.
When she turned the situation more personal, when she brought her own future into it - the idea that she would be married off to some baron or that she would choose to marry and journey to Egypt where she could live easier than her homeland, Vangelis felt his stomach twist and a heat in his throat. He was proud to be Colchian. And proud to be Greek. He disliked anyone who chose running away as an option.
"Everyone's life is disposable, my Lady. Everyone's." He told her with a calm tone of finality, falling back on formality for some reason. Perhaps it was her assurances that she would marry someone and move to another country. Perhaps it was the accusations of heartlessness she inferred towards him. Whatever it was, formality felt more appropriate than friendship right now. "Yours, mine. We live in a world where our own lives mean little in the grand scheme of what is best for our children’s' futures. Else no man would ever go to war." His eyes narrowed. "You presume much to believe that there is a different mentality in Egypt, where women are heralded as expensive possessions of their men." His resolve was unshakeable on this but he did at least offer a contingency to her own concerns. "If you are worried of your own future, that I could at least aid in..." He offered a slight raise of his shoulders, as his gaze drifted to the shifting fabric of her gown and away again. It was true that any man in Taengea would want her and that her uncle determined her fate. "I could speak with Lord Fotios... if you wished."
Had she been in a rational state of mind, she would have realized what she had said, and how it appeared. But she was obviously not her normal, rational self. She felt panicked in her duress, had hoped that he would assist. Instead, she was on her own. ”The fact of the matter is that Stephanos never wanted the throne. That he would have never killed for it. So if you are suggesting that we accept the ‘facts’ that Irakles presented, I’m losing faith in your sense of truth!”
The swell of the music hid her own raised voice.
Selene was fuming, which was a wholly new emotion for him to experience. ”My presumptions ended when you denied your assistance, Vangelis. I do not need you to speak with my uncle.” If he wasn’t going to assist in saving her family, then she didn’t wish for him to bother further. ”You are right about one thing— we will do what we must for the sake of the future.”
Already she was working through the plan Alastair had prepared, because it was better than nothing at all. And nothing was the best that Vangelis could offer. ”Prince Vangelis.” She bowed, formally, a hint of finality to it.
There was a new determination in her stare, hard and prepared fork what she had to do.
And with one last look, she breezes past him, her own fate accepted and sealed.
To say that Selene's words didn't wound him would be an untruth. Vangelis was flesh and blood as much as any other man, despite rumours that he was carved from stone. What he was not, however, was moved to being expressive. As a man in a position of leadership, Vangelis was used to never being fully in the right. No matter his decision, it would be disagreed upon by someone. It would cause someone tragedy. Like now. The only difference was, he wasn't normally confronted by the relatives of those he sacrificed in his choices, damning him for just such a choice. Mostly, because those who might wish to were of a rank and birth and means that they were unable to yell and cuss at the crown prince. Lady Selene of Leventi clearly felt that such a circumstance did not apply to her.
For her sake, it was beneficial that Vangelis was not a man who held to his rank so strongly. For her birth was beneath his, she was female to his male and he was a diplomatic guest in her country. By all rights of decorum, she could lose everything by speaking to him as such. Not that Vangelis was every going to call on her for that.
His sense of truth, was it? Tempted to open his mouth and inform her that there was a difference between what was by the world seen as fact and what was truth, and that he as a crown prince could only ever be seen to act on the former, he wasn't given the opportunity as Selene continued, spitting her clear lack of presumptions at his feet and lashing out in her hurt that he had not willingly jumped to aid her family.
Vangelis said nothing in his defensive.
He knew that what he was doing was the right thing. He knew that that that meant tragedy for her family. He knew that her rage was the right response to just such a circumstance. None of this was wrong. But none of it was to be changed either. There was no sense in asking her to not be angry with him over a decision in which he had no choice. To her, it was the equivalent of saying not to be angry over the death of her sister. And he could not ask that of her. So, he simply stood and allowed her to express and expel her fury, his own expression simply calm and unyielding.
He only snapped into action when the young woman alluded to "doing what we must" in a tone of such defiance, it implied a plan of some kind. A frown quickly descended down over his features and as she breezed past him, he took a step out and quickly wrapped his finger around her upper arm, bringing her to sudden halt.
Almost surprised by his own behaviour - Vangelis had never manhandled a woman in his life, including laying any kind of hand on one without inferred permission - Vangelis ensured that his fingers were locked in a vice like hold, locking his fingers into shape, but in a manner that only lightly touched the silk of her skin. Shackling her rather than gripping her.
"Just what is that supposed to mean?" He asked, ignoring her taunting air of derision over his title and more focused on exactly what this woman had planned in her head that could potentially have her killed.
Her mind was already replaying the plan step for step, going over the logistics that Alastair had put into place. She was trying to remember which cask of wine she was to take, which bladder would be filled with what was needed in their plan.
As far as she was concerned, the conversation with Vangelis was over. She knew what he wished to do— nothing. And she knew that while he wasn’t exactly happy with that option, he felt that his hands were tied. And, if she wasn’t so occupied with the fate of her family, she might have understood his point of view. Rationally, she knew that he couldn’t just pull them from their prison. But her mind lacked rationality in these moments.
All she could see was the death of her sister, of their child. And he had said it best— you do what you must for the future of your children. So she didn’t see any other option but doing something. She had to.
His touch, rough and sudden, was unexpected. So much so that she continued forward as he locked his grip around her arm. The momentum of her exit whipped her back around to face him. Glaring at him, she listened to his question. It was obvious that both had dropped any sense of propriety.
”What difference does it make to you?” She said with furrowed brows. ”You have made it clear that there is nothing you can do. My hands are not so tied.” She stepped dangerously closer, having no concern for the title of prince or general. ”I have to do something. Now let me go.” She jerked her shoulder back, attempting to free herself from his iron grip.
Her questioning of whether or not it made any difference to him hurt like another little cut that her words carried but Vangelis steeled himself against it. He cared. He had thought he had shown that he cared. Particularly when it came to the few he allowed close enough to be termed as his friend. Of which, Selene was one. Had he not made that clear? Did she truly think of him as immoveable stone? He pushed such thoughts away and ignored the accusation. Becoming angry in return against her would do them no good.
"I have made it clear..." He told her holding onto her arm, without mercy, leaning down towards her with the intensity of his words. "There is nothing to be done. By anyone. Open your eyes, Selene. Stephanos has lost the game of the courts and for all intents and purposes he is a traitor to his kingdom. The truth-" He emphasised the word as she had brought it up before. "Is not the same as fact. The senate and the governing parties are who decide the latter regardless of former. It doesn't matter what the truth is or what you believe it to be. If you help them, you will condemn yourself and your family."
His eyes narrowed as she tried to pull away, his tone dismissive when he spoke next - "Struggle, and you will only hurt yourself." He told her, knowing that his touch would only yield bruising if she pulled against it.
Seeing the desperation on her face, the emotion in her voice and the hysteria in her eyes, Vangelis tried to soften his tone.
"Selene..." He began, hoping her title-less name that he only used occasionally would break through the fog of panic. "Think about the rest of your family. I do not claim that your love for the Queen is misplaced, but consider the ramifications of this choice for Theodora. For Nana and Imma." His fingers tightened a little on her arm so that he now had a firm grip but the gesture was more a symptom of his own emotion than his determination to hold her fast. "If you are caught it will reflect on the reputation of your family. Your decisions affect not just yourself and those you hope to save. You are naive if you only consider the results of your success. Failure must be considered also."
His gaze was intense.
"Unless you are a greater tactician than I and have come up with a scheme more fool-proof than I could manage, you are risking too much for the sake of only three lives. Whoever those lives belong to."
It made her act crazy, made her say things she didn't actually think were true. Her mind was running on overtime, the lack of sleep and time to figure out things made her mind go places it never would have gone. Her entire life, Selene had prided herself on a calm and level head. She often waited before acting, thinking things through before making a decision. But in this, in something so personal and final as this, all rational thought went out the window.
When most women would have cowered at his actions, as tall and overbearing as he could be, Selene just stared up at him. There was a stubborn glare in her eyes. She listened, but she certainly didn’t believe what he said. There was always a choice, always an option. Wasn’t there? ”So they do not even get a chance to prove the truth? The Senate adjourned with the assumption that a trial would take place, not that they would never get a chance to question him further. How can men not see the injustice in that? Stephanos has been condemned before his trial, and his wife with it.” She tried to pull away again, with no luck. ”Even if Stephanos did do as Irakles has claimed, what crime had Pia committed? She is under house arrest simply to make sure the child can be killed. She has done nothing to anger the Gods. And yet, her fate shall match his.” The disgust was thick on her tongue.
She thought of her family, of what would happen if she was caught for her actions. She shook her head, ”My actions will be that of a grieving sister, one who acted alone. Theo will still wed Achilleas so not to anger his strongest ally— Fotios. By the time my sister’s wed, my actions will just be that of a memory. One more Leventi to mourn, one less daughter to have to secure a husband for. If I fail in this, I will take responsibility for my actions, whatever they may be. But I would rather cross the river with them knowing I did everything in my power to save them than to stand by and allow their deaths to be an ‘acceptable loss’” There wasn’t any illusion on what her actions would lead to.
“It is not without risk.” She acknowledged the truth in it. ”But those three lives are worth the cost. And if it becomes four, so be it. The Gods will have one more.” Her eyes burned back at his. ”We do what we must for the future.”
Vangelis answered her statements, her demands for clarity on the harshities of the world that were only just now coming home to roost in her mind. He spoke perfunctorily and did nothing to sooth her emotions besides ensuring that the corridor remained empty, so that her words could not get her into trouble before any foolhardy plan she was considering taking on.
When she insisted that the Senate would simply accept that there was nothing suspicious in the disappearance of a man set for trial, Vangelis' lips turned down at the corners and his expression turned grave.
"Some might suspect, but Irakles clearly has the majority support of the politicians. And what would be the point in voicing outrage when the man they believe to be the true heir is already dead?" He shook his head, his frustration but also acceptance clear in the ways of politics. He didn't like it. But he was more worldly wise to it than Selene was.
When she went on to argue that Olympia would unfairly share in her husband's fate, Vangelis nodded again with the same calm acceptance, laced with sadness that the political system worked in such a manner. "Women are judged by the reputation of their husbands and vice versa. You know, as well as I, that marriage is a complicated choice and this is just another reason for that." There was a reason why neither of them had yet been married. And the belief that the institution was so intrinsically important that it required delicacy, thought and determination, was only supported by still further evidence that your partner in life could dictate when that life ended.
It was when she started talking about basically throwing her own life away on a risky attempt to save theirs (and attempt that would get them nowhere), however, that Vangelis's sad penitence over the state of the law turned into something more expressive - into anger. Before he could stop himself, he gave her a soft shake by the arm, his expression clouding in darkness.
"Everyone might be disposable, Selene, but no-one should throw their life away. You think living would be a surrender to your enemies? Allowing that there are battles you cannot win and living to fight another is no cowardice; it is rationale. Live to prove Irakles a liar. Restore reputation and fine burial for your sister and her offspring. Die alongside them and you simply give Irakles another arrow in his quiver to shoot at their legacy. Another traitor within the Leventis who tried to free her regicidal brother-in-law. More evidence to Irakles' claims of treason against them."
Vangelis narrowed his eyes at her.
"You have many talents, Selene, but a palace onslaught and escape is beyond your talents. You will not succeed. You will die. And your death will be worse than forgotten, it will be used against your relatives and the memories of those you wish to exonerate." His gaze flashed between rage and earnestness. ”Whatever you are planning, do not do it. Please.” The last words was as defiant as anything else he had spoken to her since they had adjourned themselves from the gallery. But the single fact that the word was an entreaty was new…
Desperate people did desperate things when pushed against a wall.
And she was willing to give up everything without a second thought.
Each of his arguments fell on deaf ears. Even though he obviously had more experience in all of the matters she was trying to handle, Selene didn’t seem to care. She had a plan, and damn it if she wasn’t going to see it through. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if all she was to do was memorialize her family. That didn’t seem fair, and her heart was certain she couldn’t live through their deaths. How could she survive if they died? How could she be happy without Pia to share that joy with?
What life could she live without them?
Completely prepared to continue on her angry tirade, it was his final word that deflated the wind in her sales. Please. So simply asked, from a man who rarely said it— it cut through every single angry thought she had and broke her down. The anger had been a shield for her sadness, and now that it was gone, she felt like she was barely holding it together. ”I’ve spent my entire life protecting them, Vangelis. My whole life has been about keeping them safe, and now you are telling me I cannot? That I must accept her death and not see it as a complete failure? How?” Her eyes were no longer filled with rage, but shining with tears and pain. ”How do you move on from that sort of loss?”
Her shoulders crumpled, ”Pia and I have always been close. How can I let her down now?” And she collapsed against him, all of her energy spent on her anger.
Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning."Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.