The one sight that truly impressed Stelios in the whole of Vasiliadon had been the Circus. He'd spent a very pleasant afternoon the day previous taking in a race or two or five. He had lost all of his bets but it hadn't mattered amidst the cheering throngs, the thundering of hooves, the beautiful display of masterful horse-flesh and the tension of every yard of track those magnificent creatures sped across stoked the passionate Athenian nobleman to the point where by the end of it his throat was raw and sore from screaming. That, of course, had demanded a drink ... or two ... or five. When in Vasiliadon, right? Wrong. A few cups usually resulted in Stelios losing track of his clothing and so it was last night; an excursion he only recalled with the morning light which found him lying in a wheelbarrow outside a tavern with an empty carafe (one of the many he'd drained) artfully placed over his manhood and some very ribald sentiments written on his bare chest with the lip rouge of some amused brothel girl he'd been unable to patronize; a fact she lamented in the loss of 'a horse more promising than any in the Circus'.
After sobering up, 'borrowing' a blanket from the clothes line strung outside a nearby apartment, he made his way groggily and unsteadily back towards his quarters in THE Quarter. A fine inn which served visiting nobility may have raised an eyebrow or two at the nearly naked Athenian quickly entering and making a beeline for his room but they must have seen enough free-spirited antics from privileged foreigners to remain discrete. A hot bath was knowingly drawn for him, and after that cure for the ills of the night past he'd dressed in a fine tunic that did little to counter the stubble on his square jawline or the tousled pate of red-blonde hair he couldn't tame at the best of times. Stelios wasn't minded to make a special effort anyhow, and resolved to get back out into the city and accomplish he whole reason he'd come thusfar: to find some promising horses of his own. And to do it before Vasia woke. He could only hope she hadn't noticed his absence the night before ... or got up to similar sport of her own.
With that grim thought in mind he made his perpetually frowning, overwhelmingly solemn way towards one of the more specialized stables in the bustling city. It was Stelios' experience that the best ones were those patronized by a clientele that could afford the best in animal husbandry so the noble quarter suited his purposes well. A short meander away brought him within the earthy, unmistakable scent of good steeds. One hand at the coinpurse affixed to his belt, the Athenian was quite lost in thought, leaning against one of the stalls and watching a beautiful black stallion happily snacking on an apple from a stablehand, measuring its height, thews, and physical promise with the practiced eye of a cavalry commander. He was too distracted to notice anyone approaching until they were nearly beside him, and even then he didn't chance to spare a look. As was his wont, he assumed, and in this instance that the new arrival must be an enterprising stable owner out to part him from some of the coin he conspicuously guarded with a firm grasp at his belt. "I'm just looking for now," Stelios distractedly murmured, still staring straight ahead at the horse. "But while you're here you may as well tell me, do you have anything more promising to show me? I want my money's worth and if you want me to pay up you'd better be prepared to put out."
If there was one thing that Imma loved almost as much as she loved art it was horses. It was in her blood. At least that’s what her father had always told her. When it came right down to it she had a natural knack for riding and horsemanship that seemed inherent. So really it was easy to assume that it was hereditary and not simply some fluke. In the instances where she was able to combine both art and horses she found herself truly elated. It went well beyond simple happiness into a state of complete contentment. Starting the morning off relatively early she had every intention to do just that. Making her way to the stable where her family’s horses were currently being kept so she could put Portokáli together and head out to a remote location to draw. Somewhere away from the bustle of the city proper with more nature than development. While architecture was pleasant enough to draw it lacked life and Imma loved nothing more than to truly capture life in a picture.
With her satchel swung over her shoulder she made her way through the doors and into the establishment. Breathing in the scent of fresh cut hay that seemed to overpower the atmosphere. Making her way toward the paddock where Portokáli was being kept she found herself rather suddenly addressed. Glancing over her shoulder she made quite certain that no one was behind her. As she swung her head back around to face the man once more she opened her mouth to speak only to have it hang agape at his question or rather the statement that followed in its wake. Once she got over the initial shock of his brazen comments she started to realize that he really wasn’t looking at her at all - though he certainly seemed to be addressing her. Perhaps he had been expecting someone else? Furrowing her brow she glanced at the horse he was eyeing before she scoffed.
“Perhaps if you put as much attention into the people you were speaking with as you do the horses you are assessing then you might realize that I am not the stable owner.” Turning to the gate of the paddock she needed she paused as she pulled the bolt from its place. Hesitating a moment she leaned toward the wooden frame as she brought her dark eyes back around to him once more. “Though to be entirely fair if you are concentrating so hard on that particular stallion then you might be as ignorant with horses as you are with people.” At that point she flashed a rather bright smile. Though many might have sworn she was the least attractive of her sisters, Imma certainly had a smile that could stop a man’s heart in his chest. Pulling the gate open she stepped through and shut it behind her.
Grabbing the rope halter from the inner hook she made her way through the grass before whistling to catch Portokáli’s attention. The big red gelding’s head rose instantly as his attention turned to her. Ears pricked and nostrils wide to scent her before he came trotting in her direction. Portokáli was not the best horse her family had ever bred, if he had been then he would have been a stallion and standing to produce. As it was he was still a far greater specimen than the black stallion. He was big, well toned, and structurally impeccable. Sliding the halter on him she led him back to the gate to escort him out and toward the tacking area. Closing the gate up behind herself in the process.
It was in the midst of actually leaving the paddock and getting back into the breezeway that she really allowed herself a moment to take the man in whom she had spoken to. It wasn’t truly like her to be so quick to tease, but he’d deserved it just a bit. Hadn’t he? That thought gave her cause to hesitate a moment before she walked off to get her horse ready for the ride. “If you are really looking for horses then you should speak with my father or my uncle. They can be found at the Leventi estates. I am sure with enough gold they would be more than happy to humor you or how did you phrase it… put out?” There was still a hint of humor in that sing-song tone of voice but she was genuinely trying to be helpful. When it came to horses there were none better in all of Greece than those bred by the Leventi family.
The few who could claim to know Stelios well would attest there was something of the wild in this man. He could never stay still for long, bridled at being cooped up in the gold-and-marble confines of the society to which he'd been born, and fled to the abundant field, forests, and rivers of Illoclis whenever possible. He'd always felt a kinship with horses, from the day he'd learned to ride one as a young boy (without permission from his father ...) through more than a decade in the cavalry and in many ways these exquisite creatures were his closest friends. They were privy to words only spoke upon the quiet of a lonely hillside or fording a stream. They were witness to the sides of himself he didn't let show to the world; the Stelios who could be afraid, uncertain, self-doubting, and profoundly isolated. So if he didn't turn to take in the approacher and rushed to judgment it wasn't entirely without cause.
But the sound of a distinctly feminine, dulcet voice made his head snap so violently it might have cracked right off his neck. Storm-grey eyes were instantly wide, taking in the very picture of golden innocence. The smile she directed at him slammed into the stone-hearted soldier and shorn him of his usual sternness, at least for a few fleeting moments. He could only blink and stare, feel foolish and behave even moreso, incapable of a sentiment beyond a flummoxed, "I'm not ... You're not ... Well ... fuck."
Heart suddenly racing faster than the contest he'd witnessed at the Circus yesterday, Stelios stopped opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water long enough to abandon the black stallion he'd been eyeing, abruptly take the reins of a piebald courser built for manifest power much like the man himself. The Athenian nobleman who boasted royal blood coursing in his veins snatched the reins from a stablehand who was preparing to lead the steed out for some exercise, threw a few coins at the gawping fellow before he could complain, and walked his mount after the beguiling and befuddling young woman taunting him.
"And perhaps if you didn't sneak up like some joyous assassin on people they wouldn't make assumptions as damn stupid as mine," he shot back, both owning up to his on foibles while pointing out her own. His square-jawed face was set in its customary frown but the words were redolent with the warmth of teasing (or as warm as Stelios tended to get). Not only determined to recover his dignity; the curmudgeon lord was psychologically incapable of retreating from a challenge and what she'd said, once it settled into his thick head, demanded an answer. Stelios' brow furrowed, studious in appraising the other rider apparent. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent judge of character, both in horses and in people. The former are usually easier to understand," he grumbled, patting the side of the piebald and earning an appreciative whinny in return. But then he had to go and make another assumption. Leventi estate. She couldn't be. No. "You work for the Leventi, then? Is your father their stablemaster? If so he turns out a daughter in bloody good style. I'm surprised the lady of the house hasn't got jealous. Provided she hasn't, though, I could do with an introduction to Lord Fotios. I've heard he has the best on offer in the kingdom and after coming this far I'm not about to return to Athenia empty-handed. Hey!" Long legs ate up the distance between them, and at well over six feet Stelios found it no great effort. "I'm Stelios. Stelios of the House of Anto ... that's not important, just Stelios," his attempt at making an introduction was nearly derailed by the quality he valued least in himself, quickly discarded in favor of using the closer proximity to get a better look at the petite lady of the hunt. "And you're short. Short and a fair judge of horses if not of men and ..."
Unaccustomed to the niceties that had no place in a military garrison, he reverted back to type and the coarse turn of phrase that he made noun, verb, adjective, and punctuation mark. "Fuck."
Growing up in the shadow of not one but four sisters could certainly give a girl a complex. There was little doubt that Imma had her insecurities and most of which were all due to the name she was attempting to live up to. More often than not she found herself in an uncomfortable state that was far better suited to any number of her sisters than it was herself. Today however that simply wasn’t the case. None of her sisters had come before her in this circumstance. There were no shoes to fill or shadows to step from. This was simply a poor man who just happened to make a mistake. The reaction he had to both her words and her appearance had her struggling to keep back a laugh. Though when the last of his stammered words boiled down to naut more than profanity she couldn’t hold back the ebullient sound of laughter. It wasn’t that she was laughing at him mind you, simply that she found the situation rather amusing.
It was perhaps the first time when she could really recall throwing anyone off. Typically speaking she was the one struggling to regain composure, so it was nice to see what the other side felt like. There was a discernible excitement building within her, causing her stomach to knot and flutter as she found him at her heels. Had she made so much of an impression that he was truly following her with horse in hand? When he spoke again she found herself laughing once more. The sound was melodic in the most natural sense. Like a bird’s song or the hum of wind through the trees, it was beautiful and entirely unrehearsed. “A joyous assassin? Is that what I am now? Skulking about happily to take a man’s life?” Tying her horse to a post she glanced back at him and teased further still. “Should I assume then that I have stopped your heart?” The giggle punctuated her words as she disappeared through a door to collect the tack required for her ride.
Planting the saddle upon her horses back she began to secure it, as she did she found herself continuing with the surprisingly easy conversation. “Of course they are, horses do not speak. If they could they would be every bit as difficult as people are to work out. Conversation leads to flattery and falsities.” Taking the bridle in hand she hesitated as he asked if she worked at the estate. Worked? Well maybe that was a fair assumption since she was preparing her own horse. Lord knew she probably should have let some stablehand do so, but that took time and she wasn’t interested in wasting any of her precious free time. What was more surprising was his choice of compliment. It left her laughing again as she leaned into her horse and turned her gaze back upon him. “Do you always say the first thing that comes to your mind?”
As he closed the distance between them and introduced himself, she began to put the pieces together of who he was. Though the closer she got to defining who he was the farther she got from her place of confidence. It was much easier to tease him when she thought he might just be some merchant’s son or a random soldier looking for a mount. Sliding the bridle onto her horse she unfastened the rope halter and slid it away, leaving the reins in her hands to help direct the gelding about. Ushering him aside with the press of her hand to his neck she turned him about, putting herself closer to the flustered lord. As he continued to prattle on she found her features contouring with the knit of her brows. Short? Was that his best possible assessment? A short laugh passed between them again before she shook her head.
“Stelios of Antonis, Commander of the Athenian Armies, and silver-tongued wordsmith. I know who you are…” Imma’s family had spared no expense when it came to tutors. Knowing all the important people whom she might at some point meet was essential for being a proper lady. “My father does not work for the Leventi estate, My Lord. My father is the Lord Georgios of Leventi, Lord Fotios is my uncle. I am Imma of Leventi… the short one.” That smile really hadn’t been displaced, if anything it had only grown. Turning her horse about she led him from the stable before pulling herself up into the saddle. The riding chiton had slits at both sides to allow for her to sit properly in the saddle but the sinus wrapped about her hips helped to keep her from exposing any part of herself beyond her legs. The satchel she’d been carrying about was secured behind the saddle with leather twine before she collected her reins and turned the horse about.
“Do you intend on following me about all day, Mr Lord?” Somehow she doubted it, but there was really no telling given his inclination to do so thus far. “If so you may find it a bit challenging… I don’t really intend on slowing down so you can keep up.” That bemusement was still alight on her features as she turned once more and gave her horse just enough of a squeeze to send him forward at an impressive speed. It wasn’t a full gallop, but it was quick enough canter that she would easily leave him behind if he wasn’t actively trying to keep up.
Walls that would have made even his prodigious height inconsequential ringed Stelios' mind. They had gone up gradually. A long deployment here. A bad decision made there. A friend or loved one kept at arm's length. And all mortared with the resentment of a son who had never forgiven his father for his greatest sin or himself for not having been strong enough to shield his mother from it. Betrayal was what he identified with intimacy; and far more than the act it was bound up in being truthful and open and vulnerable. He was destined to either hurt someone as fatally as his father had his dying mother, shoving her over the abyss with his infidelity; or else to be wounded in the way she was. The latter he would never countenance and the former he would never allow himself to grow that selfish. The only recourse, in his stubborn mind, was to shut out all vulnerability at all. That was the intention but some found their way through small weaknesses in the structure of his detachment. His brother and sister knew the way in and out. Perhaps a few who had served with him long in the army did, too. Not many others, though.
That damnable smile of the blonde noblewoman leveled at him made for one hell of a siege engine. He normally bridled at being teased, but the way she grinned and giggled took the sting out of it and even beckoned a tiny touch of wryness out of Stelios in turn. He tried to keep his frown on but it faltered, shuddering like a mountainside before collapsing and then avalanche ... though upward into the slightest rise at the corners of his mouth. It was in the eyes that the change was more discernible, losing the sleet in their grey depths, thawed into warmth. "If you were that sort of woman I think experience would have informed me. No, while you could probably stop a man's heart if you keep smiling at him like that, I don't think that's your aim."
Fortunately the horse he'd absconded with was already saddled and bridled and he could easily lead it in concert with her. The question posed got a shrug of broad shoulders beneath the folds of the light brown linen tunic and thicker, leather riding cloak he wore. Shame wasn't a concept Stelios readily embraced and he shot back a flat stare, genuinely failing to find any fault in bluntness. "Everyone should say the first thing that comes to mind. That's honesty, isn't it? If it offends, well, that's a problem for the offended not the offender." He meant it, too. Honesty, even harsh honesty, was second nature to many a soldier . If Stelios were being honest with himself, which he rarely was in contrast to how he interacted with the world beyond, it also made a convenient opportunity to be shocking. Noble sensibilities needed a good shaking up, in his mind. Well. Most did. He wasn't sure about this one. Something about her was too pristine to be sullied.
It was a damn good thing he didn't get in his saddle until after she'd spoke his name or he might have fallen back out of it. Stelios did a double-take, hid his grumble of despair at being found out as a grunt as he vaulted into the saddle and sighed, nodding resignedly. "Idle compliments were never my strong suit. Neither was ferreting out fellow nobility, my lady," he emphasized the form of address without flippancy. The arc of his eyebrows showed Stelios was genuinely surprised, but then he often was when it came to meeting unlikely noblewomen in unfamiliar places. How he hadn't landed his head on a chopping block by now was a splendid mystery. "Lord Fotios is your uncle?! Maybe the gods aren't being as cruel as I thought, then. I came to Vasiliadon to see what kind of stock your family could offer. These are uncertain times and one thing the whole world can count on is that the Leventi produce magnificent horses." And, it seemed, women though for once he kept a thought to himself. "Lady Imma, I don't usually meet people of our blood around stables. That's one reason I enjoy them. But you're no usual noblewoman, are you?" He nodded at the satchel she carried and in the same breath applied a slight squeeze with his ankles against the sides of his mount, urging it into a fox trot to keep apace with Imma. "I'm not following you but color me curious, where are you headed? This is an unfamiliar place and if I go off riding alone there's no telling where I might wind up. With my luck, nowhere good." A proper kick nudged him ahead. "Now who's following, eh? Keep up ... We'll see who struggles. Enjoy the view, my lady!" he taunted. And may have just wiggled a bit in his saddle to show that years in the cavalry made for a particularly rock-hard ass.
Familiarity could often mold people into a particular state of being. The more one person knew another the more likely they were to behave in a predictable pattern. In Imma’s case the majority of her life had been spent surrounded by sisters and family members who expected her to behave in a rather specific way. Thankfully she was utterly unaware of how he usually behaved and likewise he was clueless to her own proper etiquette. What she knew of him was clear blue brilliant eyes the shade of a spring morning and just enough of a smile to make her heart skip. That he was flirting with her, genuinely flirting, was enthralling. Though she might not ever admit that out loud. Instead she took advantage of the situation and chose to try her hand at being much the same. Flirtation after all was a weapon all ladies should wield or so she had been instructed by her sisters in the past.
“You have discovered my ploy once again. I am not interested in stopping your heart, for what a tremendous waste that would be. I should think it far better to quicken it than leave it still and frigid.” While she might not have agreed with his opinion on honesty she did at least consider it. Enough so that she quieted and canted her head. Allowing the thought to stew within her mind before she responded to the notion. “I should think saying the wrong thing at the wrong time could be far worse for the offender than the offended. It really depends on whom you are offending. I suppose that is really a luxury of the man’s world though. Women are instructed from a rather young age to wield their tongue well or risk jeopardizing all their worth.”
The reaction he had to her saying his name made her laugh once again. He seemed so terribly put off by it. Was it all that terrible that she knew who he was? “Are you so utterly disappointed in your own name and title? I think it’s a rather fine name myself…” That playful smile remained in its place even as she shook her head in response to his surprise. There was a hint of a gasp offered in dramatic fashion as he spoke, allowing the act to carry forth as she teased him. “Did you think the gods were being cruel? Is it because I am not taller?” There was a quirk of her brow before she laughed again before reassuring him of the truth. “That we do, My Lord. The greatest horses in all the world.”
Glancing to her satchel and back his way once more she pressed her lips together to control her smile. The curve of her lips was still there but her teeth remained locked away behind their rosy surface. “Maybe I am not… though I would certainly prefer you keep that secret to yourself.” The little game of cat and mouse seemed to be well under way as she found him riding up behind her. As he spoke again she couldn’t help the laughter, turning her head to look his way, trusting her horse not to make an ill step. “Oh are you not? Funny as it seems as though that is exactly what you are doing. Ah I see… so you’re worried about getting lost. I never imagined the Commander of the Athenian armies would be so terrible at navigation.” As he pushed his horse forward she tightened her reins just a touch, watching him go before he spoke again.
The taunt made her lips spread into a proper ring, aghast by the words or perhaps his actions. Though that didn’t mean it stopped her from looking by any means. How could she not? Turning a bit red she pursed her lips and blew a flustered breath through her lips, whispering to herself on the tail end of the sputtered air. “A view indeed.” Pressing her horse forward she dropped her reins, but veered from the path he had gone darting down. “Fine as that is, My Lord, you’re going the wrong way!” That said with the echo of laughter she gave her horse a tap of her heels that sent him surging forward at a full run. Proper or not she loved the feel of wind whipping through her hair and the exhilarating clap of hooves against the ground. It always made her heart race faster than she’d ever felt before; at least until today. That he was close at hand made her heart beat so rapidly she could scarcely make out where one beat stopped and another began.
It didn’t take long to leave the stable behind and cut through the tall lavender and gabled grass. Rushing off through the fields toward the edge of the woods where the thicket turned into a network of trees. Slowing at that point was guaranteed as running through the forest itself could be dangerous for anyone who didn’t know the lay of the land, especially if they happened to be going through a bit of forest that was not well traveled. Reining her horse in she slowed him to a trot before letting him ease to a quick walk, letting that extra energy burn out through a few high steps before he finally lowered his head and snorted toward the ground. Imma didn’t bother reaching up to address her hair or fix anything that might have been out of place. That was a risk of riding and frankly she didn’t really think about it. Instead she leaned forward and ran her hand down her horse’s neck to ease him and feel how warm he might have been. Once she was sure all was well she continued on into the woods, following a memory to a place she’d visited a handful of times in the past.
Like a moth to flame, Stelios yielded to the temptation of his novel (and rather unconventional) meeting. Too often his elevated social class was hemmed in by rigid expectations, social protocols, and the crushing burden of family duty. There were no real, genuine encounters with nobility in his experience; only facades showing what was safe, comfortable, or advantageous to display. And in that hypocrisy he included himself. He could not be himself in that kind of climate and navigated through a world of surfaces by the same manner as everyone else. Which made the raw, uncomplicated embrace of nature even more enticing whenever he could steal away to it. Astride, he could escape convention but rarely did he do it in the company of others, much less a Teangean noblewoman and never in a clime so removed from his native Athenia. There were few days to his stay here and it may have been foolish to squander one of them in pursuit of the brilliant, golden nymph taunting him ... but Stelios of Antonis could not be counted a wise man where instinct took hold.
"Quicken it?" Another mark of surprise, and perhaps a slight, interested growl in the back of his throat towards the end of those syllables. "My lady, that's a dangerous prospect. I am impulsive even in the most considered moments. Get me hot and bothered and I'm capable of anything." He bared teeth in a manner of a grin, only for the flash of an eye before covering it up in a cough, pivoting to safer conversation. "Our 'worth' as nobility is defined for us from the day of our birth. But why should it be? You should determine your own value to the world. Tall or short, daft stupid or smart, male or female our limitations should be the boundary between strength and weakness. As long as it's just and fair ... fuck what the world thinks."
He didn't elaborate on that further and probably safer not to, with sentiments drifting towards subjects Stelios would rather avoid. But that made his silly dash ahead of her even more necessary, a way to recover both his dignity and the emotional distance his obstinate soul insisted upon. Stelios puffed out his chest, proud and haughty just long enough to be thrown for a literal loop as Imma veered off in another direction. "Hey! HEY!" he bellowed as loud as any lion, tugging on the reins of a commandeered stallion to follow in her wake, and at a pace that put him right at the rump of both beast and lady, all but breathing down her neck. "Navigation isn't a problem when I'm familiar with the terrain," the upbraided soldier retorted, exhaling an exaggerated huff. "This is a strange land. And rest assured if you ever find yourself in Athenia I would take you in hand and lead you right where I want you."
The scenery they were passing into was enough to silence him but for another of those heartfelt, "Fuck!"s The sun streaming down through the tall canopy of trees left a dappled limn of radiance around Imma, igniting her hair into gold fire as though Apollo himself were caressing her. Green verdance and the ruddy brown of the earth, recent rain awakening scents familiar and new, and in the distance the babble of a waterfall piqued Stelios' interest. "No city built by the hands of men can compare to this kind of beauty. Gods-wrought and beyond anything we could create," he murmured, in reflection as much of the lady as their location. "Whoever first quit nature for the comforts of stone and marble was a first rate fool. This is where we're meant to be."
The most dangerous part of any new venture was not what one knew of it but what they did not. For all the preparation that had been done to groom her to be a proper lady, Imma thought she was ready for these sorts of interactions. What she thought however and what was, were two entirely different things. While she seemed quick enough to keep up with the conversation there were certainly elements of it that she was not entirely ready for. In particular when she heard that low rumbling sound in the back of his throat she knew she was well out of her element. It could have very well been a turn of thunder banking over the horizon as it felt every bit as imposing. Much like the impending storm it gave her the same immediate sensation of anticipation and excitement. Causing the nerves within her to sprout wings and take flight, filling her belly with butterflies that battered in every direction as he informed her of his nature.
It was best at that point to keep her pretty mouth shut and simply smile. If she said much else she was afraid of just how much she might learn of him when he was truly hot and bothered. As for their worth, that was a much safer topic of conversation. Perhaps not for him but certainly more so for her. “You make it seem so easy… though I wonder if you would feel the same if you were short, daft, weak, and female. It is much easier to turn one’s nose up at the world and it’s expectations when one is in a place of absolute power.” While he might not have been a king he was certainly not born without privilege. It could be a noose in its own right of course, but then every lot in life could be. Saying much more would have to wait as they had a great deal of distance to cover and their chase had really only just begun.
What defense he might have had for his inability to navigate the terrain was only given a jovial reply devoid of words. Laughter dancing as freely upon the air as the scents of the environment and the warmth of the morning sun. It really wasn’t until they hit the edge of the forest that she answered any bit of what he’d had to say. Catching her breath from the exhilarating ride only to exhale her words through an effortlessly serene smile. “If I did not know any better, My Lord, I’d almost believe you want me to take your hand and lead you through Taengea.” That was a rather funny thought, one she could not help but muse over as she guided their path through the thick foliage. “Could you only imagine… me leading you about. A bit like a sparrow navigating the skies for a hawk.” That she was tiny by comparison was an understatement. He was taller and broader than she was by far, so the idea of her leading him about seemed truly amusing.
Hearing the expletive pass into the air once more she shook her head and laughed once more. It should have been shocking or appalling to hear that sort of language and yet she wasn’t all that put off by it. He was a soldier at the core was he not and they weren’t exactly at court. Twisting about in her saddle she glanced back at him, peering over her shoulder as he complimented the landscape. “Now that is a far more eloquent turn of phrase… perhaps nature brings out the best in you.” The closer they came to the waterfall the slower she started to move until she stopped altogether. Giving her horse one last affectionate stroke before she carefully dismounted. The last thing she wanted to do was expose any more of herself. Dropping to her feet she left the horse to his own devices, trusting he would remain close at hand and snack upon the rich grass available.
Untying the satchel from behind the saddle she slid it back onto her shoulder before making her way through the last of the greenery toward the pool. The rocks were large and rather plentiful toward the bank. Which kept the majority of flora from the water itself. The only exception were a few trees that had grown up through the sediment despite the hardscape. Overall the limitation of the stone kept the pool remarkably clear; making it possible to see from the surface all the way down to the base of the pool. Small fish schooled through the crystal water only distorter by the ripples expanding from the slow moving waterfall. It wasn’t a straight angle but rather a path that cut side to side down the rockface to pour the water down into the pool below. It limited the sound to a subtle whisper rather than an outright roar. As she set her satchel down on one of the big rocks she looked back toward him with a rather pleased smile. “Welcome to Taengea, Stelios.”
Lowering onto the rock herself she opened the satchel and started to pull her sketchbook from within, along with a couple instruments she would need for drawing. Laying the book on her lap she leaned forward just a bit as she studied him. He was a rather handsome man all things considered. Not that she hadn’t noticed that before mind you… it was just far harder to ignore that now. As stunning as the setting was she half expected that it would be a distraction from her company. The truth of the matter was that he only seemed to make the entire scenario seem more alluring. Sobering her smile for a moment she fell into a rather contemplative state before she found the quiet growing quite stifling. “How long will you be in Taengea, My Lord?” It felt strange calling him by his title somewhere like this but the more she used his name the more intimate the moment seemed to become. So titles were good. Titles would keep her thoughts from drifting. At least that was the plan.
Wisdom really ought to have intruded into Stelios' brain by this point. Here he was heading off to gods knew where with the daughter of a noble house in a strange land and subject to laws which he knew nothing about any number of which he might have already violated and several of which he was dead certain he would violate if he put the sort of thoughts running laps around his head into practice. And therein lay the problem, when he was on rare occasion truly taken with someone the sensation of real, genuine attraction was so powerful and novel that all good sense fled like shadows before the morning sun. Passions ruled most things in Stelios' life. On the battlefield alone was he cold and clinical, the fires that fueled him too hot to be ignored elsewhere. And when they flared to a white intensity as life-long reticence was forgotten for a brief span he was carried along on the frisson of what he wanted.
That riptide current also loosened his already ungoverned tongue, made him even more likely to speak what was on his mind (which was occasionally a dangerous prospect). Wisdom failed to hold back his thoughts, and he replied, flatly as if it were a simple matter rather than one too complicated for him to grasp as a man with certain privileges. "You may be female and ... perfectly proportioned," Stelios insisted, gracing Imma with one of his own broad, unfettered smiles that made him look downright boyish and far younger than his years. "But you are not weak or daft. All of us who are hemmed in by obligations, we find ways to escape them when and where we can. Look at this," he gestured to the idyll they were passing through with an arm thick as some of the tree trunks. "You must get away from the pressures of being a noble lady long enough to be familiar with these woods. There's no such thing as absolute power. No one can wield that over you. Search hard enough, and there's always a weak spot in the wall no matter how high or thick the defenses are." So said the one his men call the 'Bull of Illoclis'. "Military nonsense aside you can always sneak away time enough for what you want if you're tenacious enough. And you are, Imma. I can tell." That was among the highest praise he could give and Stelios offered it, as he did all things, at honest face value.
"You'll have to lead me because I don't know where we are or even how to get back out of this dense copse. I was a little too distracted by other things." Grey eyes drifted upward towards the canopy of leaves overhead and the bright blue sky beyond, pretending his study was on nature rather than on the Leventi noblewoman who'd brought him thusfar. "And for all I know you're the hawk and I'm the sparrow." He might have teased on further but they reached their apparent destination and the tranquil waters, silvery fall, and the ring of verdance around it all stole his breath away. Gasping aloud, he slid gracelessly off his horse and gaped. "This is incredible. You could have lost me down any number of winding city streets, unloaded me at a tavern, got me out off your hair in a thousand ways but you brought me here," the Athenian noted in a voice that had turned quite low and gentle ... and grateful more than his insufficient words could convey. "I'm honored." And he was. This surpassed any palace or monument. It was special, clearly special to Imma.
Drifting down towards the water's edge by the large rock where the aureate noblewoman had perched herself he tested the water with his toes, dipping the edge of his sandal in and finding it luxuriantly warm. Gazing back at Imma, he remarked as much to her qualities as the private paradise she'd introduced him to, "If this is the sort thing Taengea has to offer I wish I could stay longer but I have a few days at best." He nudged a rock into the lake, watching its silver ripples spread over the glass-like surface. "So do you have a change of clothes in there as well, my lady? Fond of drawing nudes? Alright, I guess, after a brief skinny dip," he may have even ventured a rakish wink in the split second before his hands undid the toggle at the shoulder of his tunic, loosening it so the garment could fall down over his shoulders and reveal a chest chiseled as the rocks that gathered around the pool. He'd have drawn it down further, too, past the hard V below his abdominals and entirely too far to preserve any semblance of modesty but halted, not sure how this was meant to go. "Does modesty dictate you get in first or shall I?"
It was difficult for a girl like Imma to consider both the good and bad of every action she made. No doubt if one were to have asked her mother if riding off into the forest with a strange man was proper she would have said no. The problem was that she didn’t really think about the implications of that action. What could be thought or what might happen. Since she had no improper thoughts to caution her she simply didn’t think as to whether or not he may have harbored such things. In her innocence she was simply having a bit of fun and sharing a part of the countryside with a visiting noble. Where was the harm in that? Their conversation certainly was not lacking and she had no reason to assume that he would cross any boundaries that she did not wish him to. In fact that he was of royal blood made her believe he would be far less likely to do so than he might have if he’d been just some random lowborn militant.
Then again he did seem to find every opportunity to tease her and compliment her. Had she not found it all so flattering and enjoyable then maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to do the same in return. “I never said I was weak or daft for that matter. You assumed that by me levying out such traits that I was defining myself as your mirror opposite. I may very well be petite and female, but I am not daft and I am not poor.” Glancing about their environment she took it all in before her gaze returned to him. The scenery she had seen plenty, he on the other hand was quite new and far more interesting to look at. “You assume I am pressured at all, My Lord. I am the youngest of five daughters… I assure you that my family is far more concerned with ensuring my sisters are dutifully engaged than they are me.”
There was of course some obligatory duties she had to adhere to, but not so many as one might have expected. Not to mention the fact that she had really only just begun to attend court. “Though I imagine now that I am old enough to attend court that they will truly put more effort into reining me in.” It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome though. Imma had always been just a bit jealous of all the attention her sisters got, especially those whom had been touched by Aphrodite. Beauty seemed to be cherished above all else in the Leventi home and she had never truly felt as though she lived up to the impossibly high standards. “Well rest assured, My Lord, I will not lose you today.” The reassurance in her tone was quite sweet. An unspoken promise lingering there between them to ensure that she would not leave him to wander lost within the woods when their little outing was through.
Their arrival was an exceptionally pleasant moment for her. It was by far one of her favorite hideaways, so seeing someone else react to it as she had the first time she saw it was quite nice. “Consider it a gift then. I have never brought anyone here before and all my time here I have never seen another soul. When I was younger I used to pretend that Athena led me here and keeps it guarded from the world. My personal studio where I can lose myself in my art.” Admitting that to anyone felt a bit silly, but she didn’t really feel a need to be all that guarded with him. Least of all after their discussion about honesty. As she watched him she tilted her head just a bit, causing the golden curls to tumble down her arm, burdened by the weight of the braid that intersected them. “A few days is hardly enough time to enjoy Taengea fully. I am sorry that you will not have more time to explore the region. I assume then that the majority of your time will be preoccupied with business. Horses you said?”
At least it wasn’t marriage. If he was there to buy horses then he wasn’t there to mill over the details of any perspective brides. For whatever reason that felt quite important. Foolishly so if she was being entirely honest with herself. “A change of… I beg your pardon?” The questions progressed far too quickly to a place she had not been anticipating. Caught off guard she found herself staring quite wide-eyed as he unfastened his tunic and released the fabric to expose his upper body. No mental chiding was going to be enough to stop her from staring in abject amazement. The honey hue of her eyes dripping down his skin with the same viscosity as the sticky sweet fluid. Hanging here or there before his question elevated the enamored gaze back toward his face. By that point her smile had drifted away and her mouth was ajar, but she quickly snapped it shut as she met his steel-blue eyes.
“I am not getting in.” The adamant response left absolutely no room for debate. In fact she even went so far as to furrow her brow and purse her lips a little bit. Making quite certain that her expression matched the outrage she should have felt. “You are utterly incorrigible, Stelios of Antonis.” Turning about upon her rock she directed her back toward him to avoid witnessing him disrobing further. Not to mention the fact that it also helped to hide the blush that she could feel rising upon her cheeks. It lit like a wildfire to consume her porcelain face, leaving her feeling flushed, and even more nervous. “Is this how you behave with every woman you happen upon?” The second she asked she knew she didn’t want to know. The thought of him stripping down at every opportunity made her feel momentarily queasy. “Do not answer that… I would rather not know.”
Whatever Stelios had expected of the, yes, perfectly petite young woman at first glance he would not have reckoned on the mettle of her spirit and the independence of her thinking. Those traits were almost devilishly concealed behind an angelic face but that made them, and her, all the more intriguing. He held to largely traditional ideals but had grown up in a family of strong women and preferred them to speak their mind when they felt strongly. That was a cardinal aspect of honesty which he valued more than any other virtue. "I didn't assume anything," he countered, enjoying this surprising sparring match and the fire it summoned up in Stelios' own blood. "I took you at your word, how else should I take you, my lady? I think we're more alike than not. You'd have kicked me in my tender bits and stormed off by now, otherwise. And if you have everything you need at home why do you come out here? I seek out the wild because it can't be had ringed by the stone walls of a city. I wouldn't crave it if it weren't an escape. If it isn't that for you, I'd love to hear your reasons."
He took solace in her promise not to lose him. Not that the Athenian commander was the type who couldn't find his way back to civilization through the wilderness. He had often enough. But it was a comforting thought and he gifted another rare, true smile as recompense. "Why you're not out here with some dashing young lad, I'll never know. But thank you, places like this are a reflection of the people who love them. I can tell a lot about Imma of Leventi ..." he cast his gaze around the demi-paradise of trees and water and rocks and earth and a choir of birdsong. "From this place. You must have an artist's eye to have found it. I'd like to see some of your work sometime," Stelios hinted, jutting his chin towards her sketch book in curiosity but he wouldn't prevail on her to show anything that it might contain. Like the get-away they'd traveled to that was a part of her and revealing it had to be a choice. Sighing, he breathed in deep of the perfumed air, as if filling his lungs with it could ward off the tedium that awaited back in Vasiliadon. "A lot of horses. My unit needs as many fresh mounts in our stables as we can get but only the best. We ride hard, and with tensions rising there's no telling where or when the Spears of Cerberus might be needed at a moment's notice."
But thoughts of conflict were discarded as easily as his tunic, and it was a perfectly reasonable assumption (in Stelios' one track mind) to assume she was inviting him to strip off and jump in. The sun was instantly warm, but warmer still was the blush on Imma's cheeks before she turned around, and the heat it stoked in Stelios in turn. Light so nimble it could have been Aurora's own fingers played over the masterful contours of his chest hardened by a life that he'd never permitted to be idle or wasted. Here and there along his left breast, pectorals and shoulders there were a few scars from blades and arrows that had found their mark and if she'd looked back around she might have noticed him habitually tug at the silver necklace that hung down mid-way, placing the locket that contained a few wisps of his mother's hair over his heart as he often did in introspective moments.
The too bold lord made no move to cover up but he proceeded no further in disrobing. Instead, Stelios calmly settled down on the rock next to her art supplies, laid back, knit his hands behind his head and breathed in deeply, his lightly tanned skin luxuriating in the warmth of a perfect day and his grey eyes twinkling amusement as they looked upwards, seeking Imma's gaze. "You're right about one thing ... I am incorrigible. But outside of my mother and my sister you're the only woman in a long, long time to see me even halfwise naked. Intentionally, that is," he was quick to add, discounting last night and the state his drunkenness led him to wake in. "I don't behave like this with every woman I happen upon. Those I 'happen upon' are not half as interesting. Do you bring every man you happen upon out here, Imma of Leventi? I doubt it. Things that are commonplace have no significance. They're done out of instinct. Not feeling. They don't matter. But this? This matters to you, doesn't it? This place. Bringing someone here. So it matters to me, too."
And that was about as compassionate as Stelios of Antonis knew how to be. He was content to lie there, square-jawed countenance softened into a gentle expression but certain mischief still afire in his eyes. Most of the women he came across, those he didn't even bother to disrobe for, had no sense of modesty ... or shame ... or cause to blush. Nature ran riot not only around them but through them. He yielded to it freely.
Their play of words was reminiscent of the times when she had watched her father spar. Though instead of swords they used their words to move and counter. Each time one presented a thought the other seemed perfectly capable of returning its ulterior point. When she responded to his statement about her word the implication was the same. A steady back and forth that presented little time to think or wonder of the content. “I most certainly would not. I may very well have walked away, but it would take a great deal more than your behavior thus far for me to resort to violence. I may possess the sort of spirit you seem to imagine in part, but I prefer to approach most situations with kindness and understanding. As for why I come to the wild… I should think that would be quite obvious. As you said there are certain things that can be found here that cannot be seen, heard, or smelled within the walls of the city. I also rather enjoy the quiet that nature provides and the lack of interruptions. It is much easier to lose myself here than it is at home.”
There was a moment as she basked within the glory of his smile that she had to ponder his statement. “Are you not dashing, My Lord? Perhaps you simply think yourself too old to be considered so?” Following his gesture she looked about the nature made cathedral. Enjoying the grandeur of its tall mountains and rustling trees. The whispering waterfall given melody by the musicians born into the world upon feathered wings. Bringing her gaze back to him she found her smile once more before she released a subtle sigh. “Perhaps I will show you some…” It wasn’t unusual for her to share her art with others. Somehow though the thought of showing him what was within the sketchbook made her far more nervous than she had anticipated. It was silly to think his opinion would mean so much in so short a time, but there was no denying that she would be truly disappointed if he did not like what he saw.
“I am sure my uncle will be quite happy to oblige you, so long as you are willing to pay what he asks. There is a particularly grand stallion… a big dappled beast. Grey as a storm cloud and sometimes just as nasty. I think he would suit you. I doubt you would be intimidated by him and with the right rider I think he could be one of the most glorious horses I have ever seen.” That thought carried her for a moment or two before the tail end of his sentiment brought her to heal mentally. “Tensions rising? Is Athenia in a point of contention? Do you expect to engaged soon, My Lord?” There was a concern in her tone that felt far more familiar than it should have. As little as he knew of him she still didn’t like the idea of him riding off to war when the weak was through.
It would no doubt only be made worse when her time with him was through. When she had but the memory of him standing within the sunlight at the water’s edge to haunt her dreams. For make no mistake the image was drawn upon the back of her eyelids when she closed her eyes and deeper still when she turned away from him. Even as she peered at the trees she could see his figure within her mind, sculpted by gods and chiseled to divine imperfection by a life of service. Hearing him move closer made her tighten up momentarily, but she relaxed the moment she realized he was settling down nearby. Lying back upon a nearby rock to bathe within the sunlight. As desperately as she tried to keep her eyes away from him she couldn’t quite manage it. With each passing second she found her amber gaze flirting with the prospect of looking at him, lingering a little longer each time.
Opening her mouth she started to ask how long he meant, but she stopped herself as he continued. Turning her head from him she looked forward again, doing her best to maintain some semblance of restraint. Though the more he said the darker her cheeks became, blooming from their soft pink to a rather vivid shade of red. As much as she wanted to deny the truth in his sentiment, she couldn’t. Imma had brought him here because she enjoyed his company. He was interesting and handsome. It did matter. Still it frustrated her that he knew it mattered as much as it did. “Good.” It was the first words she could think to say. One that felt short and deliberate, but it carried significantly more weight when she looked at him and actually met his eyes. “I would hate to think I wasted this place on someone so frivolous with himself.” In a way she admitted how special it was, but not in quite so many words.
Taking a deep breath she shifted upon the rock, rolling nimbly to her hip so that she could better face him. Sliding the book from her lap to rest upon the stone beside her. Touching the end of the graphite stick to the center of her lower lip she let her eyes move over him once more before she lowered the utensil. Leaning forward she reached for his chest, but not to touch him. At least not intentionally. Despite her intentions her fingers did brush against his skin. The buttery soft glide of her digits passed in careless caress as she scooped the locket into her fingers. Holding it gently an inch or so above his chest so she could get a closer look at it. “What is this?” Lockets were sentimental, they were not simply ornamental. It wasn’t the sort of thing she knew many men to wear. That alone made her quite curious to know what it meant to him. What was so dear to him that he wished to keep it eternally near to his heart.
"Kindness and understanding were in short supply growing up in the military," Stelios reminiscted with a touch of ruefulness in his voice. Or was that fondness? The occasional scars here and there on his torso and arms told the tale well enough but he knit his hands behind his head, biceps flexing with the stretching of weary bones beneath the sun's warmth, and he fell into reverie while gazing into the endless blue overhead. "You learn, even as a youth, by being knocked around. Noble birth doesn't shield against the bruises and broken bones and bloody noses but it shouldn't. Those are the best tutors in what not to do before you're out on a battlefield and once you get there? If you're lucky you end the conflict with your life. Fail to learn and you die."
He glanced over, chuckling self-effacingly. The question the Leventi noblewoman posed was one that didn't apply to Stelios; not in his own sullen opinion. "I am not now nor have I ever been dashing. I am old, worn out, too battered by life to be attractive. I don't think I ever was, even as a youth. There wasn't time to be beautiful. It was as good as straight from the cradle to the army but that's what comes from being the son of the greatest general of his age. You, on the other hand, could turn Hebe green with envy. I look forward to meeting your uncle and telling him what a treasure he has in you but he must know that. So, too, the suitors who must be battering down his door to ask for your hand by now, hrmm? Youth will serve you well, my lady. It's bound to bring everything you want out of life."
But then a hand darted over, touched his chest, and Stelios had to bite back the groan that wanted so badly to come on the wings of that unintentional caress. Somehow it was more provocative than the most practiced courtesan's arts. She must have felt that in the swell and thunder of his heart beneath the skin where cool, lithe fingers clasped the locket that meant so much to him. "It ... it holds a small lock of my mother's hair," he felt foolish as hell admitting as much, jaw clenching and his gaze returning back to the sky to avoid showing the pain cutting deep as any knife. Every memory that assaulted his mind was a razor and it flayed him as he recounted, "She died when I was young. I adored her. We all did. She was innocent and kind and understanding ... all the things I'm not because she wasted away from disease while my father contented himself with a house maid. Does it make me an old fool to keep this?" Not prising her fingers from the precious metal, his warm touch cradled Imma's covering her fingers with his own and simply resting there. "Throwing it away would feel like tossing aside any goodness in me. If it's there; if it's ever been there it came from her. I wear it as a reminder and a lesson, fat lot of good it does me. The locket doesn't keep me from making a horse's ass of myself now and then. That I get from my father."
It never truly occurred to her how different her walk of life could have been from that of another. Least of all one who had been born into a similar state of privilege. Stelios however had not experienced the same like that she had and he made that quite clear with a single sentence. That he had not known kindness or understanding throughout much of her life seemed bizarre, but it did not make him personally so. As he went on she found herself exploring his explanation of the world. The way he had lived in tandem with the other soldiers; sharing in their communal pain. His description of his life events made her wonder just how many of his scars were from actual battle and which came from practice. If it truly was the best way to prepare one’s self then surely there would be at least a few that had been garnered during his tutelage. “I cannot imagine what that must have been like. My education never involved broken bones or bloody noses. For what it is worth… I am quite glad that they trained you as well as they did. If they had not then you would not be here now.”
Their conversation moved quite naturally, flowing and ebbing where it was necessary to do so. There scarcely seemed to be a moment when they were not actively engaged in that way. What moments of quiet did come to pass were more often than not attributed to his ability to shock her. Much as he had done in partially removing his tunic, he managed to surprise her once more as he denied being attractive. Surely he had to be kidding? The look that she gave him, was one of utter disbelief. If he had stopped for a moment she would have corrected him quite pointedly, but as it was he went on further to compliment her in the wake of insulting himself. The discomfort she felt at being flattered left her shifting slightly upon her seat. Fidgeting with the fabric that draped over her legs. Taking a long steadying breath she tempered herself as not to respond without thought. Considering her words so that they emerged just so.
“You are a ridiculous sort of man if you think that you are not attractive. I know a great many ladies who would happily be where I am now, if only to see you as you are. That you are not already married with a gaggle of children rather amazes me to be honest. In my experience ladies regard men with your good looks and title as something of a prize to be won. I am certain you have had many throw themselves at your feet.” As for what he had to say about her, that required a bit more self-confidence then she might have had at her disposal. “You are very kind, My Lord, though you truly have no need to flatter me so. My uncle is well aware of the treasures at his fingertips and I assure you I am not considered one. As I said I am the youngest of five daughters and my uncle has daughters of his own. Two of my sisters are heralded to be touched by Aphrodite herself they are so beautiful. The others still are graceful and cunning in ways I am most certainly not. I have yet to properly attend court, though I am sure when I do those suitors you speak of will be well occupied elsewhere.”
Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses, Imma had simply accepted hers a long time ago. While she might very well have been the kindest of her sisters and the most artistically inclined, she was not the most beautiful nor the best suited for court. Perhaps with time she could learn to be savvy like her sisters, but in her mind she would never be anywhere near the level of beauty that birthed rumors of a goddess’ favor. It had been quite awhile, however, since she had truly looked at herself without the preexisting judgment she’d come to possess. If she had been able to truly see herself then she might have thought better of her impression, but that was a hurdle she had yet to overcome or even approach. What concern she had for her own appearance was set aside to inquire of topics that she felt were far more interesting.
Utterly unaware of the effect she might have had upon him she remained steady, holding the locket just over his chest. The warmth of her fingers providing a cushion between their skin to imply intimacy without actually remaining in contact. When he told her what was in it her gaze shifted from the polished silver to meet his eyes. At that moment she found herself rather taken by how similar that shade was. With the blue of the sky overhead reflecting against the silver it was almost identical to the color of his eyes. While he averted them to look at the sky she would never miss that detail, nor would she overlook the tension in his jaw. The way that he described her was tender. Far more so than she would expect from a soldier. There was a certain disdain in his tone when he mentioned his father and what he’d done, but she didn’t inquire any further. She simply listened, keeping her eyes intent upon him so that there would be no question that she was paying full attention.
When she finally did speak it was with a shake of her head, reassuring him of her opinion on the matter. “Not at all. Why would you think such a thing? I think holding onto something so precious to you is a sign of strength, not foolishness.” As he curled his fingers around her own she found her eyes falling toward them. Studying the way his hand looked closed about her hand, trying to make sense out of how something so simple could make her feel so much. The sound of her heartbeat carried through her body like the rap of a drum within a cathedral; echoing until it was the only thing she could hear. A deep breath and the flicker of her lashes brought her back once more, redirecting her attention to where it belonged. “It is there. I have known you less than a day and I am quite certain of it. If that is your mother’s doing then I am truly sorry I will never have the opportunity to thank her. I am glad that I have had the opportunity to meet her son though. Even if he can at times make a horse’s ass of himself.”
That last bit was offered with a smile and a hint of a blush. At that point she felt the flustered sensation rattle within her belly once more. Butterflies taking flight. Releasing the locket she eased her hand from his, trying to keep herself from becoming too enamored. As it was she already knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had developed something of a crush. The first she’d actually ever known if she were being entirely honest with herself. That didn’t mean she didn’t know about them though. Imma had four sisters and each of them had at one point or another told her about some crush they were harboring. It just surprised her that she should happen upon one in such a way and on someone whom she’d not met at court but rather in a barn. Grabbing her sketchbook she immediately looked for something to occupy herself that would not lead to acknowledging what she might have been feeling at that moment. “Will you let me sketch you?” Maybe not the best choice… but she wanted to do it. If only so she would have something to look back on later when recalling her fond memories.