After the successful coronation of King Stephanos I, the nobility of Taengea congregate at the main gala hall of the Mikaelidas Palati. This will be the first session of court in which the King and his new Queen have attended. Until now, the Queen Mother Elise has ruled over the sessions. Now, such a responsibility falls to her new daughter-in-law, Queen Olympia. It is now that such rumours, broiling in the minds of many nobles - royal or otherwise - will finally come to light...
Event Location
The Event thread is to remain in place in the Mikaelidas Palati.
Event Participants
- All members of the Taengea nobility, or any entertainers that have been booked to offer additional distraction as the courtiers gossip and mingle. Rumour tells that Kalliope of Athenia has been requested to appear, to entertain the masses.
She had hoped that the executions would bring her a sense of peace. Selene was well aware of how absolutely morbid that seemed. A part of her could hear Vang’s voice in her head, admonishing her that first night into her gratitude towards him for the death he caused. The thought of him knowing her line of thought coming up to the mass executions made her blush. That should not have been how she viewed this moment. And yet, she had hoped that seeing the potential threat put down by the new king would put her restless mind at ease.
Instead, she had been sick to her stomach. She did her best to keep an even face, knowing that all eyes were on her and her family. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, reminding her of her future. “If you hope to be a good queen someday, you will have to trust your husband and set the example. It is not your place to react. You must remain stoic, showing no emotion. You are not the judge or the jury-- simply the pillar in which your husband stands upon.” So she tried to keep her face neutral as the sentence was carried out, unable to hide the new pallor her face took after the fact. But her mother’s approval had been enough for her to know that she had done as was expected.
She was suddenly glad she had opted for the soft lavender chiton with the rich plum himation, the small flowers along the edges in white thread. Somehow, it didn’t wash her out as she paled. Instead, it made her skin look finer, a point Jo had mentioned as she dressed her that morning. The simple necklace of amethyst draped low between her breasts, drawing attention and yet simply reminding everyone that she was off limits. It wouldn’t be long before she was in the same process as Theo was, married and soon settled into a home. There was a gentle clench of her chest as she thought once more of having to leave her sisters.
“The only kings left, my eldest flower, are across the seas. And you deserve no less.” Her father’s words whispered into a kiss atop her head, made her think she would end up across the ocean. Too far away to enjoy her family and too busy in her new life to even try. It tore at her to think that she wouldn’t see her sisters and their families. But her lot in life had always been to be a Queen. As the eldest Leventi daughter, her duty was for a title. And if her mother and uncles had their way, it would be a marriage of power. She had never minded the idea before, had even looked forward to what being a Queen would mean.
But after the circus, all she realized was that being Royal was dangerous. Fatal even.
She found herself a bit envious of the ones who had been spared-- the common folk of the village. Money had always brought comfort, so why hadn’t it protected them then?
No, she reminded herself gently, it was not entirely wrong to wish for some peace of mind after the chaos. Their deaths should have represented an end to the threat, so it was expected to feel let down that it wasn’t what she was feeling. And perhaps, because the situation had hit so close to home, the fear wasn’t out of place. She had almost lost two of her sisters to the madness, the death of Pia still a fresh nightmare that she fought. And there were plenty of nights when Theo was lost in flames. Tonight would be the first real test if this had truly brought peace to her mind or not. For now, all she could feel was relief that it seemed to be over.
The hard part was over. It was time to enjoy the festivities.
Regardless of her worried mind, Selene was able to focus instead on the attention of those in the room. Her face had regained much of its color as she waved through the crowd. Pia had done a fantastic job of directing the decorators, the sweet scent of blooms filling the air. With a cup of wine in her hands, the eldest Leventi was her normal dazzling self. If nothing else, the crowd was doing wonders to help ease her worries. In here, with guards at all the doors, she was safe.
If she trusted nothing else, Selene felt obligated to trust that.
The worst was over, or at least so it seemed. Who knew what would happen at this reception. Olympia had changed as soon as they'd arrived back at the palace, seeking something more comfortable than the coronation clothing but no less grand. She had already settled on this one, choosing a gown in a blue that matched the sea with golden trim around the edges and a neckline that settled off her shoulders. Pregnant as she was, she was still young and fashionable and wanted to show it. The gown was gathered beneath her bust and left to flow over the swell of her stomach instead of strapped tightly like the earlier garb. She felt as if she could finally breathe again. Around her neck was fastened a golden peacock as the symbol of Taengea with aquamarine and azure stones set into its tail.
She finally felt like a queen when the time came for her to rush about and put the finishing touches on the evening. In a bold move, she'd forgone sandals for the evening to save her feet, decorating them instead with golden chains and anklets. Her wrists too were set with gold and she'd left the crown earlier placed on her head as it was. Throwing herself into the preparations for the party were all that kept her from crying. The smile that had been pasted on her face most of the day remained, and she only let it fall when she slipped from the room to allow guests to arrive, hiding in a corner and taking deep breaths before she had to force herself out to socialize.
Her entrance was not a grand affair, they'd had enough of that in the arena. And, at any rate she had no idea where Stephanos was anymore. She'd left him as soon as she could without stirring up any suspicions, tired of how strange he'd seemed before the coronation. She'd been turning his words over in her mind all day trying to figure out what he meant when he said if they died he wouldn't see her in Asphodel Meadows. Did he expect to die soon? Irakles was a concern of his she knew, or was there something else he had done that she didn't know of? The questions were going to drive her mad if she dwelt on them so instead she smiled and moved through the crowd until she spotted a familiar face.
"Lene, walk with me?"
Olympia slipped her arm through her elder sister's, keeping her pace slow as they turned about and the smile on her face without letting it fade. It was as if she could feel each whisper as someone said something, even if it wasn't about her she felt it land as the nobles around them judged her. The outfit, her lack of shoes, her pregnancy, her husband. To them she had always been just a climber.
Fotios had left the coronation with little to say to anyone besides his wife, whom he kept close to his side. While Irakles hung back to speak with a few particular nobles, Fotios felt no such need. He had spoken with the key players who would be important in this little charade and he already knew them to be confident in what they were planning to do. Eirini seemed to be just the same.
All the pair did, as they exited the amphitheatre arcus and headed for the Mikaelidas palace in the grandest of the Leventi carriages, was to simply meet the gaze of those they thought might need reminding of their presence. Little more was said, as little more was needed.
As the carriage trundled towards the royal palace, it did so with a gradually diminished pace. While many of the people of the city had been crammed into the arcus to witness the coronation themselves, there was ten times more who had been unable to fit inside and were now scrambling around the streets for a look at their new king. Fotios noted that Irakles had arranged for a closed carriage for the king and queen to travel in, masking them from the public's view... for their safety, of course.
While the ride from arcus to palace was quick at the start, as the public realised that the ceremony was over and started to swarm, the carriage was slowed to a crawl before it finally broke through the gates of the Royal Palati and the Leventis were safe to exit onto the courtyard stone without being shoved by the lower classes.
As they were one of the swiftest couples to leave and had gotten over at least half the journey without hindrance, the Head of the House of Leventi and his beautiful wife were among the first to arrive for the second set of festivities.
By the time the new queen and her sister arrived into the grand hall, Fotios was already sipping from a glass of wine and had been speaking with Eirini in hushed tones but nothing in particular for nearly twenty minutes. As other guests filed into the room at their own languid ease, Fotios allowed his spouse to leave the chair beside his own and begin to wander the room.
He watched as the men in the hall turned to watch the lady's path, as if their necks could not help but twist and their eyes could not help but follow. He smiled in satisfied jealousy. Despite all arrangements between the two of them, no man would ever possess Eirini as he did. Not ever. And he took a great satisfaction in knowing it so completely as the nobles of the court - both young and old - tripped over their own tongues in an effort to speak with her.
It amused him to no end that Eirini's decades of becoming the most popular and sought-after face in the Vasiliadon courts still trumped the newly coronated Queen. For, while many gravitated towards the power that was now symbolised in the crown on Olympia's head, it was clear that the public's greater interest lied not with the pregnant add-on to the new King - a woman clearly used to secure a bloodline rather than because she was of any importance - but with the woman who had become the Queen of high society long before either Pia or Stephanos had become of any interest.
Playing his normal role of lingerer, towards the side of the room, where people could easily approach if they wished, Fotios stood now and leaned against one of the pillars lining the edges of the hall, sipping from his goblet, his sharp eyes watching the interactions between each and every one of the nobles, his gaze dark over the rim of his cup.
Nothing grand or exciting out of the expected events had happened at the coronation. This disturbed him. It would have been the perfect time for Irakles to steal the crown and either execute him or assassinate him. And that hadn’t, had in fact, sat there and smugly watched it unfold...the first seeds of doubt crept into Stephanos’s mind.
Aside from the malevolent smirk Irakles gave at the funeral, he’d done nothing but be infuriatingly helpful and effective. He wanted to clamp his hands around the old man’s throat and force a confession. If there was one. It could be that he and his uncle simply hated each other and that Irakles had nothing to do with the murders at all….
The very presence of doubt made him feel as though he was killing Zacharias and his father. Or at least their memory.
These were the dark paths his thoughts were taking as he rode back with Pia to the palace. He barely noticed her leave him and looked up, genuinely surprised to find her gone a bit later. Her abandonment wasn’t entirely unexpected. She’d been distant toward him for the last few hours.
He would have liked to disappear off to wherever like she’d done but the moment he neared the hall, Lord Gavriil Dimitrou pulled him into conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother flitting about the room like a butterfly in a garden of flowers. There were so many people that he’d lost sight of both sisters. As soon as he could get away from Lord Gavriil, he wanted to talk to Xene.
She was the most level headed of his family and any time he mentioned Irakles to Pia, she seemed to grow anxious and agitated. It helped that she believed him about the old man...but if he confessed his doubts to her now...She might trust him to be sure about anything else. His sister was a safer option to talk to.
Gavriil was speaking in low tones, with a powerful hand clasping his bicep, as if in earnest for him to be listening. Except he wasn’t. He was resisting shaking the man off and attempting to keep his smile in place. At last, Gavriil seemed satisfied and Stephanos had the vague impression that they’d been talking not only of his brother and father, but also of Iason and Athenia. But when he tried to recall details, he realized he hadn’t actually heard a word of what the lord had been saying.
Maybe she should have felt more seeing the mass executions? So many associated Evangelina and her ideas with how people and animals should be treated. And yet, standing there seeing that execution, she’d never blinked. Not for a moment. Nor did her chin waver or her eyes wish to draw away from the sights in front of her. Would it have surprised people that she felt nothing? She had felt empty seeing it. It had been justice and that had been all. Those people believed they were seeking justice, but it couldn’t exist for just one side. It had to be for both sides.
As the new reign began, and the crowd filed out Evangelina walked quietly behind her parents. Her brother rattled on about the executions in detail but Evie had long since tuned him out as her mind had drifted. The coronation was over but now was the gala. It was time for the celebration of a new era.
The carriage ride to the Mikaledias Palati was relatively quiet and her thoughts had drifted to how fast it was coming upon her to have to say her goodbyes to her parents as they returned to Acharist and she remained. She’d hoped before they’d arrived in Vasiliadon that her father would have had a change of heart. That he’d determine that he was not ready yet for her to find that next chapter of her life. Then when they’d arrived, she’d wanted to strike out at them… maybe that was why she’d done the things last night that she’d done. This morning, she’d felt nothing but regrets. Her actions had been the equivalent of her rebellious temper tantrum. Now. Now, she just felt a little bit of sadness mingled with fear.
Was it normal to be afraid? Was she afraid of being on her own? She didn’t think so, she thought it was that she was more afraid of failure. The bar had been set so high in her family, how was she suppose to live up to these expectations. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she gnawed on it in thought. Sneaking a glance to her parents. She didn’t even mind disappointing herself, but to disappoint them? Evangelina’s liquid brown eyes fell. Something inside her hardened, there was only one way to prevent that, she was going to have to learn these games people played at court.
At the Mikaledias Palati, Evie followed her parents inside dutifully playing the part she was brought up to play. The flamboyant, bright smile in combination with her rich chestnut hair and deep wine red chiton were dazzling. She wasn’t as beautiful as Theo or Selene but there was a brightness to her, a lively life that flowed through her. Her father was the first to depart, as he made his way towards some of his friends and clapping them on the back as he drifted into the conversation with them.
Lady Ava cast her daughter a curious look, ‘I think I see Lady Elise over there, would you like to join me?’ Drifting her gaze towards, the Queen Mother, she offered a small smile and looked back to her mother and shook her head.
“No, I’ll be okay. Go enjoy conversation…” Evie replied, her gaze taking in the decorations before meeting her mother’s gaze and slow nod before she gracefully turned and headed for the Queen Mother. Evie watched her mother and sighed as she glanced around again. Would anyone notice if she slipped away? Which direction were the stables?
Evangelina started through the throng of people, smiling and speaking to those who spoke to her as she went. Let’s see, is that an exit over there?
Arriving fresh on the shores of Taengea just the day before, Magnus had done a quick stroll of the Taengean markets that evening to collect as much information as he could over the past few weeks he had been back in Colchis since the disastrous events of the death of King Zenon during the Dionysus festival. Back after his weeks of absence, the Master Informer of Colchis always made his rounds upon his fresh arrival at a port, preferring to hear and see things with his own eyes rather then over a parchment delivered by pigeon.
The morning of the coronation had seen him preparing himself bright and early. He had left a note for the Lady Iolanthe who he escorted to Taengea after discussion with her cousin. The lady seemed eager to seek a new husband, and what better places then a whole new kingdom? While it had been a very rushed and last minute plan, with only a few days in between their discussions at the harbor reopening of Midas, to when Magnus set sail for Taengea, Lady Iolanthe had been eager, and Magnus was more then happy to comply.
Why? Well, he wasn't eager to delve into such topic yet. He would be lying if he said he did not find the widowed noble lady beautiful, yet his position as Master Informer did not absolve him of his base born heritage, which meant he had no position to entertain further thoughts in regards to the Lady Iolanthe. He was entrusted to bring her here as her guardian, as per instructions of the Eubocris baron, and Magnus was nothing if not responsible.
The note contained a message telling the noble lady to prepare to attend Taengean court, and that Magnus would return for her within the next three hours - he would be witnessing the coronation of the new King first. It was not an event Lady Iolanthe needed to attend, and at the conclusion of it, he was happy that he had elected to not bring her along. The hanging of the Creed members was not entirely a pleasant sight, but Magnus had noticed more then just that. The actions of the newly coronated King worried him, for he knew the young Mikaelidas was a friend of Vangelis, from what his conversations with the crown prince had told him.
Filing away such information, as well as various others he had noticed of the nobles and royals he observed, Magnus quickly slipped his way out of the arcus when Prince Irakles informed of the conclusion of such events, taking his steed to ride back to the inn where he had put himself and Lady Iolanthe up. There, he swapped his outfit to a dark, royal blue chiton, tying a gold woven belt around his waist and draping a green himation with a claspover his left shoulder, before heading over to the room he knew Iolanthe resided in, raising his knuckles to rap smartly on the door. "Lady Iolanthe, are you ready to head over to the Mikaelidas palace?"
It would be a short ride, with the carriage he had prepared for the lady to have a comfortable ride to the palace. He would be riding by the side, always having been one who preferred the outdoors over being cooped up in the carriage. Even while on board the ship on their way to Taengea, Magnus had spent most of his time on deck, and only returned to his quarters for the night.
Smiling as the doors opened, the male bent a little at his waist in respect for the noble lady, offering an arm to her. "You'll enjoy it there - Taengean men and women are said to be the most beautiful in all three kingdoms." he said with an amused raise of his brows at Iolanthe as he brought her down to the carriage.
When she'd first boarded the ship to take her away from home again after what felt like not enough time back, she had felt an overwhelming anxiety that kept her below deck. It felt as if she had just gotten off the last boat that had returned her to Colchis, and now here she was leaving it again. Her desire to find a suitable husband had driven her to depart right as she had begun to settle in once more. With the necessary cajoling, blessing had been given for her to venture out and attend the Taengean coronation with Magnus and a small retinue of attendants to allow her to see if perhaps her fortunes still lay away from her homeland.
If she had her way, she would find a Colchian husband and settle at home, near to her family and the friends she had begun to make, but that was an option that would be saved for when she had exhausted her options. In the event that she found a prospect here this would become her new home, and in order to no longer be a burden on her family she needed to find a new husband, a new life.
She'd passed on attending the coronation, there was no real desire to see the execution that was rumored to be occurring at the end of it and she could use the time instead to prepare herself for the court meeting afterwards. Her hair had been curled and twisted back from her face, piled atop her head with the ends tumbling down over her shoulders and back secured with gold pins as the only ornament. Iolanthe had been staring and trying to pick between two ensembles for most of the day as she prepared herself, uncertain if the red was too bold or if the seafoam green was too pale. In the end she chose to break her mourning garb for the first time with the red chiton trimmed in gold.
The dress draped around her in a manner that clung to the right places thanks to the golden belt fastened about her waist. The chiton only covered one of her shoulders with a thin band of gold embroidery along the edges of the length of fabric, the remaining material hung behind her in a train and she finished it with golden earrings and an arm band that she'd brought from her old home that twisted around her upper arm. The knock on the door felt as if it came too soon, but she was bound into her sandals and the final touches given before the door opened and she stepped out to meet her escort on this voyage.
"Will it do?" She referred to her garb before following him down to the carriage nerves building with every step forward though she tried to hide it behind smiles and gesturing to things of interest along the way. Once they arrived at the palace she couldn't help but look in awe for a moment at the splendor. While Colchis had a beauty of its own, Taengea had taken it to the next level of elegance and it felt almost as if she was ascending to Olympus. Walking with Magnus, she accepted the first passed glass of wine she found to try to steel herself for interactions with the foreigners, noting a few handsome men that she would have to try to speak with on the way in.
"Do you have any information on them. Any I ought to avoid or seek out, since you are my escort and master informer?"
At the end of the coronation, Gianna and Xene had been tasked by Irakles with escorting their mother back to the palace. The youngest Mikaelidas had grasped the Queen Mother’s hand as they navigated the pathway created by the common folk. Gianna had squeezed her mother’s as it trembled, presumably still upset about her son’s early morning transgressions.
She urged the older woman through the assembly towards the royal carriage, offering the crowd her sweetest smile, even turning to wave as she climbed in behind her mother. The carriage ride to the palace was quiet, save for the throngs of people gathered in the street who prolonged the ride. Gianna peered out, curious after having been locked away from the rest of Vasiliádon since the events that happened during the Festival of Dionysus.
When the carriage came to a stop within the safety of the palace walls, Gianna went directly to her chambers. She had chosen a chiton in crimson with elegant gold embroidery for the first session of court since the murders. After Elpis adjusted her hair and straightened her diadem, she was finally ready to face a court of sycophants and social climbers vying to use the events of the past six weeks to their advantage.
A courteous smile tugged at the corners of the princess’s mouth as she entered the main gala hall that had been designated for the court session and decorated accordingly. Olympia had done an excellent job in coordinating the party preparations. The hall was warm and inviting, bedecked with the Mikaelidas house colors and complete with the family’s coat of arms. The entire palace staff had been enlisted to serve food and wine to the Taengean nobles or receive their carriages as the families arrived.
Gianna scanned the gathering crowd, nodding a silent greeting to some of the older members of the gentry, nobles she only knew in passing and was not particularly inclined to engage in conversation. While she was mostly greeted by familiar faces, men and women she had been seeing during court gatherings and special events for much of her life, Gianna’s attention was captured by the faces she had never seen before.
As they were attending court, it was perfectly reasonable to assume the newcomers were members of the nobility hailing from Colchis or Athenia. As Gianna assessed the foreigners with curious eyes, observing the details of their chosen ensembles and their body language, she found her gaze returning to a pair she could not help but label as odd.
The man was tall and lean and he appeared to analyze the room with the eyes of a man who already knew the answers to his questions. His companion was small beside him, Gianna knew the woman had to be shorter than herself. The woman moved with the grace and poise of a predator, but her eyes appeared to flit around the room—a sure sign that she was not quite as collected as she let on. Ever the self-appointed welcoming committee, Gianna approached the pair.
“I must say, you have excellent taste,” she praised the woman, a smile in her voice as she noted the woman’s color scheme. Glancing up to include her companion, Gianna addressed them both, “I trust you are finding Taengea to your liking?”
In all honesty, Magnus had surprised even himself when he had blurted out the offer to bring Lady Iolanthe with him to Taengea. At the harbor reopening, the Master Informer had simply intended to touch base with his contacts, friends and informants, before taking off to Taengea to do the exact same to all his people in the more laissez-faire kingdom.
Except seeing the Lady Iolanthe had taken him off guard.
The short time, however brief it was on the harbor ten years past, just before the light-haired lady had left for her new husband was a memory that Magnus did not find hard at all to unearth, much to his surprise. Back then, the lady had seemed nervous, if a little excited at the prospect of a new life. It seemed not much had changed, really, despite the years having aged her a little - but really, if anything they had been kind to her.
His eyes flickered with mild attraction that Magnus managed to hide as he watched her emerge from her room dressed to the nines to attend a day at Taengea court. The dress went beautifully with the golden accessories, all of which only enhanced her smile that hid her nerves. But Magnus was no fool, he could recognize the tick behind Iolanthe's gestures at every object of interest, obviously attempting to keep busy to fight the oncoming nerves.
Not that he thought she had anything to be worried of. She had the looks, the nobility and the money - everything that Magnus found hard to attain, as much as he wanted to one day. Looking over at her as they neared the Mikaelidas palace, a glimmer of an idea popped in his head, a faraway maybe that he would revisit. Now however, was not the time.
Dismounting the moment the carriage rolled to a stop at the steps of the palace, Magnus was quick to offer his assistance to Iolanthe stepping off the carriage, he tucked her arm in his, escorting her down the pathway. Leaning in down to her when she spoke, his brows raised, the soft smile he had often bestowed upon her during their shared meals on their trip over appearing on his lips again, a flash of laughter in his dark eyes. "Just stay away from the new King, and you should be fine. Not only is he newly married, but I'm not the only one who knows King Stephanos has many illegitimate children - and not just in Taengea, either. The others... well, we'll see."
A voice as they entered the ballroom of the Mikaelidas palace caused Magnus to pause in his steps, turning to see the owner of said voice. Upon recognizing who it was, the dark-haired male was quick to bow respectfully at his waist, his motions quick to greet the royalty as she ought to be. "Princess Gianna, tis a pleasure to be in your beautiful kingdom." Ever the perfect guest and diplomat, the smile on Magnus's face was flawless. "I'm Magnus of Chaossis, here escorting Lady Iolanthe of Peisistratos." Stepping to a side, Magnus allowed Iolanthe her moment to shine, before piping up again.
"Queen Olympia has done excellent in preparing for court, with the coronation that took place this morning." his eyes remained on Gianna, yet at the same time they took in minute details in the background, of how the new King seemed engrossed in conversation with Lord Gavriil, yet seemed antsy in his actions, as if he was looking for someone or something. Queen Mother Elise flitted, before she settled on conversation with yet another Leventi, a Lady Ava that Magnus knew of so far. Further away, he spied the new Queen with her sister arm in arm... just how many Leventi's could one fit in a ballroom? A corner of his lips curled up, as he continued in a tone of concern to the princess of Taengea, "I do hope all has been well in the past few weeks?"
There was something to be said about Selene’s composure during the executions. Her older sister had held herself with the upmost decorum as any member of royalty should have. With as much as she’d been exposed to during the chariot races if anyone had the right to look away and show her distaste for what happened, it was her. Had Theo had the presence of mind to look at her sister she may have gained strength from her at the time. May have been able to stand through when their bodies were removed from the ropes and carried away. Instead, the crowd dissolved in the back of her head to muffled voices and murmurs. With all of her sisters’ interests occupied she was left with her memories until her father rested a hand on her shoulder; drawing her attention from the internal demons that plagued her. She looked up at him and he stared down at her; his warm eyes concerned and she offered him a reassuring and confident smile as she rested her hand on his; determined not to let him or anyone else worry about her. As far as she was concerned, she’d already caused him enough trouble recently and likely wouldn’t be done yet.
She stood again and took a deep breath; raising her chin before turning back to her sisters as if nothing was ever the matter. It wouldn’t do for her to concern anyone as they were all already dealing with their own fallout from the attack.
Slowly the family and those in attendence filed out of the arcus and were placed back in their carriages. Theo rode with her sisters as she had before to the Mikaelidas Palati and, while quiet, was not in any way oddly behaved. In the main hall those in attendance mingled and awaited the new king and queen’s arrival which came without precidence. Wine was served in abundance and Theo took up a chalice upon entry; lifting it up to drink thirstily from as she found her seat near Imma and Nana again; Imma no doubt wishing she was back at home painting and Nana likely critiquing those in attendance for their hair and clothing choices. There was a low rumble of voices that blended together in the busy room and guards kept sentry at the exits ensuring safety to some of the most influential and wealthy members of Taengean society. She watched as Selene and Pia took a walk slowly around the room; glad her younger sister could find support in Selene in this time when she was finding it so very difficult to be a supporting shoulder to rest her head upon. ...Not that she didn’t want to be there for Pia.. She adored being there for all of her sisters. She just felt that recently she’d been unable to fulfill her role as advisor and confident to her. Not when her own life seemed to be in shambles.
She drank again for her cup and with the glass emptied, it was quickly refilled by a passing servant. She should have been more eager to search for Achilleas. As her future groom, she should seek him out; find out more about him. She should anticipate and expect him to look for her in such a crowded room. Instead, the eldest brother was the furthest thing from her mind. Emilios, however, was always filling her headspace. She’d not seen him since the coronation and she wondered if he would be in attendance. Whether he’d talked to his father or not, or made any headway at all in breaking off the engagement. So far she’d heard nothing. But if anyone could conquer the world for her it was him.
The coronation had been bitter sweet. On the one hand her sister was now officially a Queen, which was something that most of her sisters seemed to desire. On the other hand she was no longer Olympia of Leventi, instead she was Olympia of Mikaelidas. She was still Imma’s sister, of this she had been reminded of near everyone, but it felt different. They had already been married, true, but Imma had not got to witness that and this made it seem more real. Permanent. Crowned. King and Queen. Her thoughts were that of a girl and not a young woman, to see any difference now that she was coronated, but Imma couldn’t help it. What she could do, however, was endure and try to be happy for her sister. She could not ruin the coronation or serve to embarrass the newly crowned Queen nor her family.
It had been with feigned optimism that Imma sat and watched the ceremony. A smiling facade decorated her face, forced by will when her mood changed to jealousy or uncertainty. Jealousy of the King, rather than getting to be Queen. What is she would start to think and recall the events of the chariot races and pushed those thoughts out of her head. It was easy to do when sitting between her sisters, Nana and Theo, holding their hands as she watched. It was easier to smile being so near any of her sisters, they soothed her just by their presence and when that failed they always knew the right words to say (even if they sometimes decided against saying those words – or spoke the opposite). Her sisters were all beautiful geniuses. Imma looked between each of her sisters, Selene, Theo, Nana, and of course, Olympia, whenever her smile came too difficult to maintain. She found herself reinvigorated by them. It had worked well too.
During the coronation.
There was no comfort afterwards, when men were led out and nooses fashioned around their necks. Imma knew that they were bad men, and that they must pay for their crime, but why must it have been now? She had started to raise from her seat to shout an objection. This was supposed to be a coronation! Not a bloodletting. A hand stronger than her, which she did not see, pulled her back to her seat before her rear was far off it. There was no verbal warning, Imma didn’t need one. She had choked on her words anyhow, and though she had forgotten herself a moment again, she knew well now. Her hands squeezed the two sisters that were near her while her face became buried in the soft cloth of Theodora’s clothing. Young eyes filled with tears, thankfully, the fabric hid them from the few of others.
Things might have been fine had they just stayed like that. Everything hidden from view. Just fine had curiosity not plagued her, causing her to peak out just as the men lost their footing and then their breaths. Imma tried to turn her head back to the safety of her sisters’ shoulder, to bury it in, but an invisible hand held her head in place, her eyes glued open. Why wasn’t she being allowed to look away, who was forcing her to stare? It wasn’t until after the last horrifying twitch of the men that Imma realized nobody was holding her, that for whatever reason it had been her accursed self that didn’t let her turn away. Her stomach dropped, but she managed to stuff her face back into her sisters’ shoulder in tearful fear and sorrow.
To her credit, the sobbing was soundless, though anyone looking at her heavy, shaky breathing would be able to tell that she was crying. When it was time to get rise and leave, Imma rose and stuffed herself directly behind Theo and Nana, keeping her head down low and sticking really close to try and avoid the shame she might bring for being so weak. For crying over the deaths of murderers. For feeling that the refusal of coins was unjust and for thinking that her king was a…a…
Imma had pulled her arm out of Nana’s, not because she didn’t want to be near her, but because she wanted to walk behind and not beside. With two of them before her it was as though she were protected by a wall. A wall she could not have loved and cherished more. One she could not be anymore thankful to, even if she had been unable to express it in the moment.
The young Leventi had to take a deep breath and shake her head to get the thought out of her head in regards to this King. None of her family would have been happy to hear her think that, she wagered, and sometimes she felt they had a direct line into her mind. She set a trembling jaw and tried to hide the tears that still fell from her; now, red and puffy eyes as her family made to leave for the next ‘celebration’.
The journey from the coronation hall to the main gala hall found Imma uncharacteristically silent. She used this time to try and regain her composure, pressing the heel of her hand to try and stop the puffiness that surrounded her eyes. It was an attempt in vain, for it did nothing to sooth to swelling nor the redness. At least the tears had stopped falling. Whatever words any of her sisters had for her, if any, seemed to fall of dead ears. She heard them, but she did not trust herself to respond. Even a nod threatened to break the dam and start the crying all over again.
Upon entering the Gala, Imma appeared to have the mindset of a well-behaved girl. Her hands politely at her side as she entered and moved about. She had scarce noticed the decorations or the other people around. Instead, she focused on making sure that she was always close to at least one of her sisters. It seemed, to Imma, this was to be a gloomy affair and then she spotted the newly crowned Queen and her face lit up. The recently gladdened Imma realized too late that she had been too far behind to make it to Pia first, but was close enough to hear her Queen’s request of Selene. Imma stopped in her place upon hearing it and her stomach felt heavy again.
Imma turned quickly on her toes and walked as calmly as she could towards where Theo and Nana had been. Seeing only Theo there at that, she quickened her pace and wrapped her arms around her sister from the side. “I want to go home” Imma nearly cried out, but managed in a shaky tone instead. “I want to go home and never leave” she continued with renewed sadness of not having been the sister that was asked to walk with Pia. “I hate it here” the last part she whispered for only Theo to hear. Imma knew she was acting immature in the situation but she didn't care, not at the moment.
There was a sigh of relief, the moment the bodies dropped. A small weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and now he hoped that the country would be able to move on, to move forward.
The way his father ran the show bugged him a little, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It shouldn’t have been the ‘Irakles’ show-- the focus should have been on the new King and his Queen. And it was, but he couldn’t help but wonder the motives. Even hungover, Emilios has faith that Stephanos would have been able to handle his duties. He had emotions over the loss of his family, and the people deserved to hear them. But his father was a prince and had been in the public eye a lot longer. Perhaps he just wanted to set the example, make Stephanos look better.
A united front, as it were.
Emilios tried not to give it much thought, leaning against the wall of the palati. Goblet of wine in hand, it took all of his willpower not to stare at Theo most of the day. Hell, part of the reason he’d spent the night partaking in another woman was to maybe be able to make it through the day at such close quarters. He had hoped that the memory would sustain him, but nothing could ever compare to the way Theo made him feel. And it was becoming more and more apparent that he wasn’t going to be able to pretend she didn’t exist.
The deal with Fotios was in the back on his mind-- she has to be married. There would be no chance of any of them calling it off, not when the lives of every Leventi sister were at stake. Maybe, just maybe, once they were all married, they would be able to do something more. Or maybe they would find another way. But he knew his father wasn’t going to call it off, not with how close he was to Fotios. In his father’s mind, marriage was just a formality-- Emilios could have Theo, as long as he was discreet. He didn’t want to be. He wanted to show her off as his wife.
But he was getting to the point where he was willing to have her however he could get her.
His eyes landed on her, suddenly making it clear that he needed to speak with her. Obviously not about the agreement with Fotios, but about how poor his luck had been at getting the engagement reversed. Currently occupied with her family, he stared at her, hoping to catch her eye. Dropping a note, their usual form wasn’t going to work in this crowd. It didn’t take long for her to catch his eye and his head nodded towards the gardens. Then, he spun on his heels and disappeared into the gardens, hoping that she would follow.
She should have been stronger for her sisters; for Imma who was experiencing so much at such a young age. Freshly exposed to courtly intrigue, she was entering Taengean politics in its prime. There was nothing noble or honorable about a hanging. No fight to determine one's fate. It was raw and real and for a sixteen-year-old girl, it was traumatizing. It was traumatizing to Theo and she’d seen men die in the ring. ...But there was something foreign about that. As if it wasn’t real, even when it was because it was for sport. It never entered their privileged world.
Theo’d allowed Imma to cling to her in the arcus. She sat close with her in the carriage even as her mind wandered; not wholly focused on Nana or Imma or their needs at the time. That they would be so innocent to have to experience such things and then celebrate afterward was more than anyone should ask of them. Pia was on the arm of her new husband and Selene was her favored confidant; the two oldest often were and so it was left to Theo to care for the youngest.
At the party, she felt little like socializing. Theo had no desire to participate as gossip swirled of the valiant nature of the new king and the atmosphere seemed forced; as if everyone was attempting to ignore what they’d seen at the arcus earlier. As if the image wasn’t burned into their mind. Theo stared down into her glass at the red liquid that coated the sides. Were it not for its potent scent, she could easily mistake it for blood and the thought made her hand tremble. She sucked in a breath just as Imma approached her and wrapped her arms around her waist; sobbing into her side. The interruption was enough to shake the morbid thoughts from her mind and she tore her gaze away from the liquid.
Her arm fell over the girl's shoulders protectively and she looked around the room to ensure they weren’t observed. In a side wing, Emilios stared at her until he caught her eye and nodded his head before turning to walk in the same direction. Theo’s heart did a flip and she sucked in a deep breath.
Weakly, she set down the glass and turned in Imma’s grasp to face her; pulling her small frame away from her own. She lifted her chin and made her look up in her face while, at the same time, squaring her shoulders and raising her own chin. “You are a Leventi. You don’t cower. You don’t run away. You hold your chin up and you perform your duty as a Lady would. And you don’t let them see your weaknesses.” Similar words had been drilled into her from an early age. It was their mantra, these fearsome women of Taengea. The court may know them for their bold strength and beauty and nothing more. Their humanity.. Their ability to indulge in emotion was to be stifled until they were alone.
She caressed Imma’s face and her own grew softer as she offered a halfhearted smile. “Today has been trying for all of us.. But we must show a united front for Pia. For House Mikaelidas. If people here see how we are affected they will consider them a weak monarchy. Just a few more hours, Imma and we can go home. You can bury yourself in your paints and block all of this from your mind. ...But right now you have to remember what you are.”
She stared at her for a long moment to ensure she was back in line before releasing her shoulders. In a sense, the speech had helped fortify herself as well. Words her mother had told her so many times over… had told Selene and Olympia alike.. They were engrained into their psyche. Like learning to walk or speak. They were a battle cry in the face of the most trying of times. She was a Leventi. She was bred for royalty. No creed or drowned would shake her resolve.
So she did what she’d done since the night of the attack. She pushed the images of the hanging men to the furthest recesses of her mind. Buried it under layers of other memories; ones that weren’t as raw. Plucking up her glass, she drained the liquid with a shaky hand and set it back down. “Come.. I believe I saw Eva venturing outside earlier. Perhaps some fresh air will do you some good."
Theo linked arms with her youngest sister and lead her towards the exit Eva had wandered towards earlier. The thought that Emilios was somewhere waiting for her made her anxious to get away, but she couldn’t abandon Imma right now. Not when she was in such a fragile state. But Eva was amazing at cheering even the most dreary of souls up and misery seemed to love company. If she could find Eva, she may be able to slip away from the two of them for just a few moments to find her love.
Fotios watched as the different members of the different families of power entered the main hall. Initially there was a quiet hush over the guests. A mixture of personal horror or satisfaction regarding the mass execution that the new King had administered in his first moments of reign, and the respectful hush of a gathering of nobles appearing before their new monarch for the first time.
As others filed into the room, the noise rose steadily as people spoke or gossiped or were brave enough to break the silence within their little clusters. Fotios watched as his wife flitted from one group to the next looking utterly effortless as the eyes and voices or the room trailed her and her rumours. He then turned his gaze on the other members of the Leventi family, watching to ensure that they checked themselves and behaved appropriated.
The Lady Selene stood with her newly crowned sister, as was appropriate. Theodora and Imma left the room which was frustrating but also the lesser of two evils. Fotios had noticed Emilios leave the room earlier so he knew the plans for the elder of the Leventi's and Imma was a liability as he noted the way the corners of her mouth were down-turned and her eyes bright. She had clearly not enjoyed the coronation and could not be counted on to show joy at the celebrations afterwards. Her being absent was, indeed, a better turn of events.
His own daughters stood in a group to one side doing little to engage the men of their generation and frustrating Fotios in their level of social ineptitude. Could they not at least learn a little from their mother?
As the first half hour of the celebrations continued and the Queen, King and Prince of the realm finally joined the rest of their peerage, Fotios remained where he was, leaning against one of the marble pillars that lined each side of the room, remaining mostly in shadow and keeping out of everyone's way. He did not partake in gossip, nor in the social engagements of the room, but he was pleased to note that the men of several of the nearby groups would glance his way on occasion, as if to check his presence or reactions to things.
He might not be the social queen that his wife was, but Fotios still held a certain sway and power that he liked - the kind he could implement from the shadows instead of by prostrating himself before the noble lineages of Taengea.
As soon as the newly crowned King Stephanos and his uncle were present, the nobles were able to step forward and speak with the monarch. This was - after all - the point of said assemblies. An informal way for the upper circles of society to speak with the King and Queen directly.
They asked questions - some of which Stephanos answered himself, some of which Irakles stepped in to answer for him. The discussions continued, mostly too low for anyone on the other side of the room to hear.
That is, until one man - a noble from a side branch of the Condos House spoke up in a voice that carried. Half the room feel quiet at his words and Fotios glanced around to spy the speaker.
"What about the rest of them?" Had been the passionate cry of the man, not waiting his turn to speak in low tones to the King, but instead drawing the attention of first half and then all of the room with his insistence at being answered before those that stood in wait within the King's immediate proximity.
"There's a whole settlement out there beyond the walls of the city that you've done nothing about!" The man argued vehemently, to the point where Fotios "wondered" if the man possibly lost family during the Creed attack. Perhaps a first-born son, for example...? "You're happy to kill those you already held confined - the ones that were no threat - but what about the monsters still invading our villages? What is the new King going to do about that?"
Fotios made a face that clearly offered the opinion of "fair point", his head tilting for a moment and his lower lip protruding a little in consideration of the man's words. He turned to Stephanos and Irakles with an interested eye, curious as to their reactions to the heckle within their court...
Unlike the noble and royals who had streamed out upon the conclusion of the coronation, Irakles had not been so fortunate. He had to remain back at the Arcus - despite in an area that was not for public viewing - to ensure the carcasses of the dead bodies were properly disposed of. To be burned, and then their bones tossed in the Aegean sea. He wanted none of the fear they had caused to further disseminate throughout Vasiliadon. They had achieved what they sought to achieve - for now, what he and Fotios had set them to do, and for that Irakles was satisfied. He wanted nothing else that would mar the image of the capital city that he had always been proud of, the very city he had grown up in, and the clearing of any Creed they had caught was first on the list. The encampment on the edges of the city would be dealt with soon - if Stephanos would get his head out of his arse and get to it.
It wasn't up till every last thing had been cleared, and only then did the old prince allow Ujarak to summon his carriage for his return to the palace in order to attend the court session that had been arranged to begin immediately after the coronation, as was the tradition. While it would usually be easy to arrange for both to happen back to back, as the coronation was traditionally held in the throne room with the ballroom a mere few minutes walk away, the location today made it a tad harder. Royals and nobles alike would have to travel back and forth, and he knew for a fact that some had wondered why the coronation had to be held in such a public place.
But it wasn't anything Irakles couldn't handle.
Having tasked Meena to ensuring the ballroom was decked in its regular splendour, Irakles did not worry that his mistress would do him proud. He would definitely be late to the event, but it was an expected thing. Striding in his sure steps towards the arriving closed curtained carriage, the general had stopped when the lords Nikolias and Konstanos waved him over to where they appeared to be waiting for him in front of their respective carriages, the shields of their families emblazoned over it. It was quite a contrast to his own closed carriage, one Irakles had chosen so he could return to the Mikaelidas royal palati with much haste, knowing that he would still have to get ready and change out of his morning garb within his private chambers in the palace, before he could join the populace in the ballroom.
Heading to the two lords, the general had greeted them with a smile, a small dip of his head in an equal sign of respect they had given him. "Anything I could help you with, Lord Nikolias, Lord Konstanos? Otherwise, I must hurry to the palati. Would you be attending as well?" the prince asked in his genial, if a tad hurried tone, having jogged the last few feet to the two lords. He drew to a stop directly in front of them, a respectable distance away, and meeting the sharp and heavy gaze of the two royal lords.
They, in turn, exchanged looks, before Konstanos spoke in a sceptical tone, eyes clearly showing he had done a great deal of thinking upon the witnessing of the extravagance of the coronation. "Was there a need for the pomp of the ceremony, Prince Irakles?" It was obvious from the tone of the royal lord, that he did not find the whole ceremony tasteful at all. The face of Lord Konstanos was twisted in a look that was entirely displeased. Obviously, the lord thought he could've handled the situation with a lot more finesse in light of the recent tragedy the kingdom had had to face, not the display of exaggerated wealth that had been done. It was exactly the sort of reaction Irakles had sought for when he intentionally arranged for the greatest and most disgusting displays of wealth for the coronation ceremony. Besides, it wasn't as if Stephanos's reputation helped him any, Irakles merely... made use of what he already had at his disposal.
As if he had practised it one too many times, Irakles immediately gave a rueful smile, heaving a convincing sigh as the man shrugged his shoulders. The prince rubbed the back of his neck as if the matter was something which had plagued him and disturbed his sleep, speaking in a weary tone , a feeling that he made sure was reflected in his eyes and showing up in the lines on his face as the words spilled from his parted lips. "As I've mentioned earlier - the prince refuses to accept my help, Lord Konstanos. I have advised against such a ceremony and pomp, but my nephew insisted upon it. The coffers... well, I shall see to it. Fret not my lords."
Surprise was obvious in the two royal lord's eyes, at Irakles's revelation that it was Stephanos insisting on the expensive way in which his coronation had been celebrated. Inwardly, Irakles smirked to himself, but outwardly he simply shook his head ruefully, giving the impression that he was trying his best with his nephew. Leaving them to draw their own conclusions, the prince clasped them both on their shoulders as a sign of thanks, before quickly jogging to where Ujarak waited with an opened carriage door, allowing the prince to quickly make his way to the royal palati for the court session.
Having instructed his servants to bring his change of chiton's to his rooms in the royal palace, the prince was whisked to the upper private sanctums of the royal family to his old room, where he changed out to his white chiton trimmed with gold, a long one which ended at his ankles. His manservant combed through his hair as his slippers were presented for his feet to be slipped in. The final touch was given in the form of a woven gold belt along with his usual crown on his head before Irakles finally made his way down towards the ballroom.
Sure enough, as he arrived, the sounds of chatter and discussions were obvious as he slipped in. A held up hand prevented his arrival from being announced - Irakles wanted no attention drawn away from discussions. A sweep of his eye noted his mistress along with Tasia in the ballroom chatting to some noble ladies, to which the man smiled as he picked up a chalice of wine the servants were holding out to the attendance in the room. Making a note to seek out Meena later (it had been a while since he had time to seek her warmth), his dark eyes swept the ballroom again, and then a small frown settled in his brows when he noted that while Emilios was in attendance, there was no sign of his eldest son - the very one he was intending to make crown prince, not that he seemed to want such a position.
Satisfied that at least Emilios was in attendance, his eyes slid away to observe the rest of the crowd again, murmuring greetings to any royals and nobles who addressed him. Like Konstanos and Nikolias, there were a few who wondered upon the need for such pomp and celebration, but at least in front of the royal family available, Irakles made a show of supporting the decisions he implied Stephanos had made in regards to the coronation choices, that it had been necessary to show a strong front to the Creed, and that they were not cowed by the showcase of massacre at the circus. As he mingled, his eyes briefly met Fotios's in the shadow. The only indication Irakles gave to his friend was a small smile, one that would be further explained upon their next meeting. The interaction was brief - the way Irakles kept all of his interactions with his friends unless further business had to be discussed.
As he made his way to where Stephanos stood, the sudden voice - a noble from the Condos house spoke up, Irakles's sharp eyes were quick to pinpoint on the speaker. The silence that fell over the room was quick, palpable as all attention zeroed in on the noble and what he had to say - something that obviously was lying heavily on the minds of the others. It was no lie after all, and his words held truth. The Creed was still a danger even if they now camped beyond the walls of Vasiliadon, and if Irakles had his way, something had to be done and soon. He would cull them all with his own battle-ax if he could.
But he was no longer general nor Master of War - he was a prince of the realm in the day and age, and someone who was supposed to appear as if he supported the King's decision. And he was no fool. Irakles was fully aware of his age. After all, there was a reason why he had retired from his duties as general and war strategist years ago, stepping up instead to be prince and advisor of a kingdom. He still had the brains, but Irakles was not stupid enough to jump right into the fray of a fight without proper back up and preparation, both of which he would not get since he did not need to ask to know that Stephanos would likely not back up any decision he wanted to be made, even if it was a sound one.
Besides, this was a question directed at the young King. As he stepped closer, the Queen Mother was quick to flit up to his side, gripping Irakles's arm tightly, almost squeezing his blood out of his fingers in her desperation for helping her son. He knew what Elise wanted - for Irakles to help her son and extricate him out of what was looking to be a sticky situation. It was obvious when the former general turned to look at his sister in law, he recognized the unspoken plead in the old Queen's eyes. Stephanos was her only son left, there was no way she would sit by and watch him get heckled by his own people.
"No, Elise." he murmured, a gentle tone belying his words. The man pried her fingers away and made a show of support by squeezing them tightly, his gaze supportive along with the slight pull on the edges of his lips in a soft smile. Holding her by her shoulders, he held her by his side and explained in a gentle tone so as not to make the woman shiver even more in her worry for her son. "The question was directed at him - for me to answer would make him seem incompetent. He... can handle this himself." Irakles explained, looking over Elise's shoulder to let his eyes meet Stephanos. Even as he held his mother close, he had plans for many other things in his head. Only when they met, did the spark of challenge appear in the old man's eyes, the slow smile a dare for his nephew.
Let's see how you deal with this, nephew.
For while Irakles had suggested before, naught had been done to the Creed settlement outside of the city, too caught up was he in learning the basic ropes in the first place he could not even deal with the finer details in the days following the attack. Technically if he wanted to, Irakles could grab Aeneus and his most loyal men, head down to the gorge and cull as much of the men as they can. Solo men had gone and never came back, but the prince of the realm had no doubts that an army would provide a different result, even if it was not that of victory. Any knowledge of culling the numbers would be a balm to the worry of the people.
But did Stephanos think of that? Irakles doubted that.
Receiving the invitation to the Taengean coronation of their Prince Stepahnos, becoming King was opportune for the Thanasi House. Sadly, Nethis could not operate as quickly as she would have liked to get over to Taengea. Everything at home needed to be situated for Nethis to leave Colchis, she didn’t feel comfortable knowing that all her ends have yet to be tied while conducting business in another country. Business with House Leventi has been something Nethis has been waiting to get her hands on, because it is a powerful house – marriage between Thanasi and Leventi will be something that will quake the game every House play. Of course, the engagement of the Houses will be nothing more than gossip to the outside world, or a simple secret kept between two people. The world may never know what Nethis has in store for it because her true intentions are only known by her as she only trusts herself. Everyone is a pawn in her game, though there are certain pieces she is reluctant to lose under any circumstances. Players must respect Nethis’s skill and intelligence because she has shown her tenacity and ability to get what she wants when she wants it.
Nethis sat within her vessel dressed comfortably as she sailed away towards her destination. She is sure that a carriage will be waiting for her upon her arrival, sadly she was later than expected; although, Nethis is not worrying about missing anything since events like coronations will be filled with gossip and rumors. Nethis can only imagine what is happening in Mikaelidas, if anything she would love to marry the soon to be King, though she is a lot more strategic than that to hope for such an achievement. Nethis isn’t interested in her own marriage now as she is waiting for her own family members to be blessed by Hera, before she is willing to accept it herself. It is only easy for Nethis to work on her family before she settles down and has children of her own. The only problem that she foresees with getting married is the high possibility that she will lose the freedom and power that she has now. For her to marry, she needs to marry someone who she can control, and that power is truly her own. Nethis is not willing to sacrifice her own power for marriage, she is not willing to lose the land in her name to be given to her husband, she is also not willing to lose her influences and power. Much less is she willing to lose her name, Nethis of Thanasi.
After a long venture towards Taengea, the Lady of Thanasi had arrived, and the vessel was docked. Although, Lady Nethis was not leaving the ship until she was dressed and ready to leave. Nethis was already late for the Coronation, so she is sure to show up during the court sessional. All is well, an appearance is an appearance, though she is sure to turn heads as well as meet eyes with people she is in need to speak with. Nethis appears from outside of the vessel in her red chiton that dressed her body very nicely as it showed her curvaceous body that made the Lady of Thanasi House more alluring. Nethis gracefully sat in her awaited carriage that carried the woman all the way to the palace of Mikaelidas. Lady Nethis wasn’t even anxious, she more was expectant and eager than anything else as this is her realm of play… Nethis is at her best in these kinds of settings, because she can set the tone.
Nethis entered the Hall with a small smile as she met other Houses, though Nethis continued to past through people. Heads were turning, plastic smiles and whispers were made as they seen the Thanasi woman. Already she could hear whispers of the elder sister witch, the serpent, and all those names were never said directly towards Nethis. All Nethis could do was smile, what she really wanted to do was laugh, because they were doing nothing but making Nethis just that more relevant. The Lady grabbed a glass of wine, before speaking lightly to a nobleman, while also scanning the place for familiar faces.
Her chosen escape path had led her in a garden with pools. It wasn’t exactly where Evie had planned to end up but she was torn between returning to the party and continuing her search for somewhere more intimate to let herself decompress. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue smiling that polite, happy, butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth smile.
Plucking one of the summer’s last flowers from a bush, she pulled the petals off one by one delicately and absent-mindedly as she walked down the walkway of the garden. She wasn’t ready to go back and despite it, she’d really rather take her chances just disappearing. Continuing down the walkway, she made a right and dropped the now bare flower.
The sound of a horse caught her attention up head, catching up ahead, she bounced for a step on her tip toes trying to see if it was the stables up ahead.
With a sigh, she continued on until the stable was in view. Ignoring the looks from some of the stable grooms, she found herself walking to a small paddock and braced herself against the fence. One of the horses raised their head and watched her curiously. Offering her hand out, she clucked her tongue softly hoping to encourage a bit of movement from the horse to her.
When it was obvious she held neither food or anything else of interest the horse turned away drawing a sigh from Evie. Everybody wanted something it seemed.
Leaning her head on her arm, she simply watched the horses. She’d have lied if she hadn’t thought of 1,001 different ways to escape this party and at least 999 of them included borrowing a horse. Would she really get in much trouble?
Glancing down at the red chiton, she frowned. It had made her feel grown up this morning when she’d donned it but… she was tired of feeling like a grown up.
Hearing footsteps behind her she about half expected to see her father standing behind her. Prepared to persuade her to come and smile on his arm… it would have really been a ploy just to get her to return to the party but it would have worked. When her head turned around, she saw Theo and Imma… blinking she straightened.
“What’s wrong?” Her gaze glanced from Theo to Imma and paused on the youngest of Georgios. “Imma… Your face is going to freeze like that.” Evie teased softly. Shifting a look at Theo, she sighed, “I was only contemplating my escape plans, should I need them… Should I include the two of you in those plans?”
When Theo led Imma into a side wing, Imma followed swallowing hard to keep from allowing tears to fall from her eyes. Although she was not the greatest actress in the world, she could usually at least appear like she was put together and keep herself from looking too much of a blubbering mess. Today, her mind was foggy, and she just wanted to go back to the manor and curl up with one of her sisters and go to bed and pretend nothing at all had happened. Her mind did not connect the dots to the late-night party she had attended with her sisters and her inability to function as she was expected to. She only knew that she didn’t want to be here anymore. She was worried she had lost a sister, and soon she had to worry about losing more.
She had expected that Theo would tell her they were going. She was smart and capable, Imma knew, so if anyone could find a way to be excused it would have been her. Her heart, however, sank when the words came out of her sisters mouth and her jaw tightened at those words. They were words that she had heard before, and she hated hearing them. She didn’t like being called weak, it hurt. When it was Theo that was saying the words, it hurt even more. Imma was unable to understand that it was meant to give her courage, and instead looked at them as though they were meant to shame her for her feelings. ‘Hide your weakness’ she was always told, and therefore she had little choice but to assume that she was weak and therefore should always be hidden. Maybe she should have just locked the doors to her room and hid away from the world. She was the weakness of her family, after all.
She was Leventi, she knew all to well. She was the weak Leventi. She was the ugly Leventi. She was the oddball. The strange one. The one that caused nothing but trouble. Couldn’t focus on anything that was expected of her. Imma nearly choked on the thoughts that were flowing in her head, and in fact she moved her head forward as though she might gag, but she had the graces not to. She also had the graces not to yell out and lash out at the sister that she loved so dearly. It would have caused a scene, and then she would really be called weak. Ridiculed by everyone, everywhere. Then they might be lucky if they could ship her off to a butcher in exchange for a thin slice of meat.
For the moment, Imma of Leventi, detested being Leventi. She wanted to scream that as well, but she didn’t. Instead she just lowered her eyes and gave a simple nod feeling the eyes of Theodora upon her. When her sister continued, Imma realized she didn’t care a fig if people thought the monarchy was weak. Why should they think so because of something that she did? It was unfair! Did a jeweler get thought of as a bad one because they have a sibling that cannot? No!
Fair or not, Imma had no choice but to endure. Endure Theo and her sounding like their mother. Endue this ‘celebration’. “I am…” Imma started to mumble but didn’t finish the word. She was foolhardy at times, but after everything that Theo just said she wasn’t about to say the last word of nothing. Or useless. She swallowed the word and then just nodded her head looking at her sister and managed not to scowl, which was progress from before.
“Mhmm” she managed to mutter in regard to going outside for fresh air and seeing Eva. Maybe Evangelina would be an actual breath of fresh air, though Imma doubted it bitterly. Taking a deep breath, she walked with Theo and managed something of a smile. It was lopsided and clearly forced, but she was trying as the two went outside. Imma looked away from the building and wondered if she kicked off her sandals and ran would Theo follow her? Would she run after her or just let her go? Would she run all the way home if Imma did, and then they could be normal. They could laugh and curl up together. Sing or share happy stories. Anything but be here.
She didn’t though, and before she knew it she was standing before Eva who commented on her face. “Who would notice the difference?” Imma asked her tone; in an effort not to sound sad, sounding bored. Nobody ever looked at Imma. Not that she wanted them too, perhaps her ugliness was a blessing from Artemis to keep her out of the marriage bed. The fresh air did seem to help, not that Imma was willing to admit it. Her eyes widened at the mention of an escape plan. “Truly?” she asked, excitement radiating in her voice. “Include me, I beg of you” Imma requested dramatically “Please Theo” she turned to her sister taking her hand “If Eva and I go nobody will notice. It isn’t our wedding day and I am just the youngest sister and she but a cousin!” She hadn’t meant to make it sound like Eva was somehow less, but she couldn’t very well praise the girl while trying to plea on get them both out of there. “You don’t have to be complicit, you just have to not tell anyone” she looked hopeful at Theo and then to Eva; who she assumed already had a plan and was in the midst of executing it, “Right? Tell her!” she pleaded with her words and her eyes.
