The trip between Colchis and Taengea had been long. In more ways than one. For one thing, the journey was the longest trip between kingdoms that could be made within Greece. Vangelis was fully aware that such a journey was twice the cost to his life than any trip made to Athenia or to the North. And his frequenting of such visits meant that this one - the journey he made far less often than the others - dragged its duplicate length to move at an almost sluggish pace.

Then, there was the company he kept while in close quarters on the boat. Vangelis was not a social man by nature and he was even less comfortable - or rather, less at ease and himself - when around women. To be in a confined space for two weeks with nothing but (discounting the sailors) had been a test of his patience and fortitude. Not because he would have ever snapped at his sister, their cousin or the women that accompanied them - he would have been far more likely to have thrown himself overboard to avoid the idle gossip and chatter of feminine nonsense than he would ever be to talk down to his youngest sibling and her companions... But it did mean that by the end of his journey across the Aegean, Vangelis' mind was far more tired than his body. Exhausted, even in how furtively he had worked to drown out his surroundings when in the company of the young girls.

Vangelis respected his sister. There was nothing to be doubted there. He just had zero interest the innocent perspective she had on the world at her age. Other than to ensure it remained in place. Vangelis wanted no part in removing that rosy hue with which she saw her surroundings - it would happen slowly enough on its own - but he also struggled to indulge it when he knew it to be so false to reality.

To compound this problem were the conversations Vangelis had had with both his sister and her handmaiden. Apparently, somewhere down the line, his brother Zanon had placed an advertisement to his back that read "relationship counsellor" and both girls had come to him in their own time and space and questioned his thoughts on their particular beaus. Not that he was likely to be of much help on the subject - the asked nonetheless.

After awkward chatter and blunt opinion - guess which came from which party - Vangelis had left the girls to natter between themselves for most of the rest of the journey. He had not yet spoken with his sister Asia regarding her responsibilities to soon grow up and accept the expectations of her gender and rank. He had been going to... whilst they were away from prying eyes at sea. But the conversation had never turned that way and the last thing Vangelis wanted to do was bring it up in abrupt conversation (as he was sure to do) and make his determined and wilful sister feel under attack. A defensive Asia was not one who listened, in his experience.

Plus, he had also reasoned with himself that the presence of the Leventi girls - whom they were now going to see before, rather than after, the Dimitrous - would present a useful image of exactly how a royal and elegant lady should behave. Asia had had limited interaction with the other women of court and there was little he could do to trounce such ladies before her in a parade. The Leventi House, however, seemed made of nothing but women with the appropriate lessons in etiquette and decorum.

And if his experiences with Selene were anything to go by, such teachings ensured that they came across as elegant rather than prissy, dignified over submissive... and strong over weak. He knew his sister was eager to balk at the connotations connected with being a princess for she feared being weak in the eyes of her brothers. Such a House might prevail on her that femininity was not synonymous with weakness. And perhaps then he would broach the subject with her on the return journey or at the next available opportunity.

Then again, perhaps he was just avoiding having the conversation at all. Vangelis was not one for fear, but he was a tactician and he never entered into an impossible battle.

As the ship pulled into the Taengean harbour, Vangelis had a strong sense of dejavu but it felt all wrong.

He had been here, at the front of a ship, not a few months prior and attending to Taengea in a time of great celebration. The streets had been rampant with feet - some skipping, some running, some dancing; but all hurrying about their business. The streets themselves had been supporting branches and wreaths of ivy and fresh flowers... wine had flowed endlessly into cups proffered and filled between total strangers. Everyone had been in a mood of merriment and joyfulness.

Now, the streets were calmer. Not doldrum or melancholy but certainly calmer. Several of the building that Vangelis could see were only half in existence anymore - burnt by the attacking cultists and yet to be rebuilt. Swaths of fabric had been thrown up and over the worse scars of the city, as if the people were determined to replace burnt darkness with bright colour. The entire place was in no way depressed in its atmosphere, but it was different. Vangelis narrowed his eyes as he struck a boot up on the barrier of the ship and tried to look closer. Cagey perhaps? Resilient? There was a certain apprehensiveness and a lack of trust within the frames and statures of the Taengean people and Vangelis felt sympathy bloom in his chest. His jaw clicked and gritted as he ground his teeth in frustration. He wished once more that he could have remained in Taengea longer to aid the new king, but his time - and life - had been in the hands of the Gods since he had left the southern kingdom.

Despite his face not being one of public display and recognition when in Taengea, Vangelis cut an impressive shape through the crowds as he corralled his sister and cousin - Nike brought up their rear - and shepherded them towards a carriage waiting on the docks. His height, the breadth of his shoulders and the fact that he was in no way long and lean but instead built like a warship, the dock workers - freemen and slaves alike - scurried out from under his step and gave the small group a wide berth.

The enclosed vehicle they headed for bore the insignia of the House of Leventi - the white equestria painted vibrantly on the side. Vangelis' lips twisted in distaste when he noticed the men to ride with them bore the Kotas colours. It seemed that someone was intent on showing the prestige and rank of the visiting party and just whom within the Taengea court had secured their habitation.

Vangelis felt like a trussed-up award being shipped from cargo passage to warehouse supply, as he agreed to step up into the carriage with the ladies. Nike, as was her habit, had gripped up to the back of the vehicle and ridden it from the outside.

The journey had been silent and uneventful though whether that was because Asia and Imeeya had extinguished all they wished to say to one another on the boat, whether they had had a falling out or simply because Vangelis was present for once in their cocoon of confidance, he did not know. And he cared little to know. Any issues would be brought to him in due time.

Placing a boot up on the opposing seat of the carriage, Vangelis had simply looked out to the little window at the streets they passed - most of them familiar from his last visit but with minor changes. A few linens that hung in windows had been replaced - perhaps singed in the fires that had been spread throughout the city? Most belongings were now kept off the streets. The royal colours were more evident - with the Mikaelidas lion on show above the door of more than one home, determined to prove loyalty over masked conspiracy. The most significant change that Vangelis noted however, was that all the doors were shut. Rather than leave the entryway open, domestic women would open and then shut the wooden panels into place - even if they were only stepping outside for a moment. It was a natural change in habit that came from fear. Whether the king permitted it, whether the people showed it or whether strangers like himself could feel it, it did not matter. The truth was there if you looked hard enough. Taengea was afraid.

The building the carriage finally pulled up at was one that Vangelis had not been to before. He allowed the household steward to direct himself and his Colchian relatives, around the home - indicating each room that had been arranged and chosen for each of them.

While the prince was less interested in knowing the history, architecture and the efforts that had been made in order to create a structure of hospitality over one of practical and militant purpose, it was clear that the steward was proud of the work he had carried out under the instruction of - Vangelis assumed - Lord Fotios. And so, he allowed the older gentleman to deliver his spiel, nodding in all the right places, saying very little and eventually sending the man into a fearful quiet before announcing that he must see to the chores of the servants. And once again, Vangelis' reputation as the Stone Prince had been cemented.

With his sister and cousin attending to their own rooms and their own dress, Vangelis headed for the master chamber that the old man had very proudly declared to have been allocated for him, during his stay in their country. The room was large with wooden panelling to half way up the marble walls. It was clear from the shape of the place (for Vangelis had been in a fair few in his lifetime to recognise the dimensions) that it had once been the Order House's armoury. One of the largest rooms in the building, most likely and the reason for it being chosen as his bedchamber. The bed in question that had been brought it was made of magnificent black Grecian wood and supported posts at each corner. The linens and decoration of the room, Vangelis cared little for - if only to notice that the space felt surprisingly homey and therefore the decor couldn't be so out of his tastes as to cause discomfort. Or alienation. The room would suit far better for his stay than he had perhaps expected.

Interrupted in his thoughts only momentarily as slaves brought in certain pieces of luggage - he directed the others to be taken to the appropriate rooms for his compatriots (Asia and Imeeya were down the hall and Nike had a separate chamber on the ground floor near the main entrance) and then longer still by a second set of servants who brought in the requirements for a hot bath.

The bath was expected. The household steward - Fumas was his name - had insisted that Lord Fotios wanted to welcome him to Taengea with a dinner that evening. It was understandable - nay polite - to assume that a man who had journeyed by sea for two weeks would require a fresh wash before social engagement. Not that Vangelis had ever cared much for the appropriate levels of attire and visage in such matters. Still, when he was abroad and in the company of royal families, he was a representative of his House. The new king had already made it abundantly clear that the rumour circulating in the southern isles was that Colchians were unhygienic.

Vangelis ensured that a bath would be taken to each of the three women in his company.

What was less expected than the bath, however, was the incredibly nervous looking servant girl who stood to one side, with wash cloth in hand. Apparently Taengeans didn't wash their own backs.

Stepping forwards with three large and domineering strides, Vangelis plucked the cloth from the girl's hands, being careful to avoid actually touching her and then shifted his head towards the door.

"That will be all." He told her, his voice deep and raspy from talking over the wind across the sea for so many days.

It was only when he was alone in the room that the crown prince stripped down to nude, entered the tub and performed the rudimentary ablutions that would make him once more presentable and not saturated with salt and sea air. He was not a man to luxuriate or waste time with the bowl of flower petals that had been set to one side of the tub - let someone else smell like a pansy, he wasn't interested - and so was out of the metal tub within a few minutes.

Snatching up a towel set by a fire already lit, Vangelis cared not when the corner caught on the stool it had been supported by and knocked the little stand over with a thunk. Instead he focused on placing the towel over his head and rubbing at his hair, sending water specks all over the floor. It was as he moved the towel from his hair to neck that Vangelis became aware of two things simultaneously. That there was a letter on the stand beside his bed and that the door had opened behind him.

A high-pitched squeak of embarrassment escaped the young girl in the door, who had come back for some reason, and a babbling stammer left her as she glanced around the room, attempting to stare at anything beside his naked person as he looked back at her over his shoulder.

"My lord, I heard... er, the thump... I just wanted to... I'll go now."

And with that the serving girl flushed scarlet and left the room quickly, shutting the door with a little more force than was necessary.

Vangelis snorted to himself, utterly unperturbed and turned back pick up the folded parchment beside his bed, sealing with purple wax.

Pulling it open and feeling a sense of familiarity over the initial impact of the handwriting, Vangelis frowned and read over the letter quickly, confused as to how the Lady Selene had gotten a letter to his chambers in Vasiliadon so quickly when he had only discovered the change in arrangement himself a few days prior. It took a least a full day by boat to cross to the mainland of Serenn from Macendia.

The letter quickly answered his confusion and had his mood lighten beyond his control or notice.

Vangelis had - inaccurately it would seem - assumed that Selene of Leventi - the unmarried, eldest of the royal family - would have returned to the cloistered protection of her family estate after spending a dangerous few weeks away from home and abroad in the barbaric Colchis. Instead, it appeared that she was still within Vasiliadon - and likely to attend at the dinner her uncle had arranged for Vangelis' arrival.

Suddenly with a lightness to his step and more favour as he looked forwards to the evening’s events, Vangelis decided that, if he were to attend anything, wearing more than a towel about his neck would likely be preferred, and so went about seeking one of the few chitons, his mother always insisted he packed when journeying to lands on dignitary connections. His riding pants and open shirt were, apparently, unsuitable for such a formal evening, but he would be able to make his excuses to his mother than any other interaction he had with the Leventi family past this night could be considered casual enough for his usual attire. As such, he would only have need of the damn chiton for the one night. And he had flat out refused to take any of his crowns with him on this particular journey - so at least there was that.

Vangelis spent most of the following afternoon sleeping. He and Nike had set up alternative guards of watch while at sea and he never slept well when in the bowels of a ship anyway. He was too aware - too ready to leap to his feet and bark commands in the event of an insurgent attack or dangerous weather. He was never able to slumber deep or for long. Taking the opportunity now, Vangelis woke naturally just an hour before he was due at the Leventi manor. Having forgotten - in his rusty etiquette manners - to confirm that his sister and cousin were in attendance with him on his trip, there was no time to include them in the planned meal. As such, he had told them that they were to keep to themselves for their first evening on foreign soil. Given that Imeeya had not adjusted too well to the sea and Asia was one to be rambunctious within an atmosphere that she was familiar but nervous in one that was alien (not that she'd ever show it on pain of death), he was certain that neither wanted to be presented before arguably one of the most powerful men in the country after only being on solid ground a few hours.

As such, he sent a note to Nike through a servant to watch the two girls and quickly got himself ready to leave.

The chiton he had packed was possibly the only piece the royal seamstress had made for him in her fifty years of service that he didn't feel like a prancing pony when trussed up in. It was double shouldered but sleeveless and in inky black. The trim was a navy blue do dark it was almost indistinguishable from the rest of the gown. Cinching the waist with a black cord of rope and eschewing his big boots in favour of black leather sandals that bound up to his knees. Tucking the leather string of his necklace into the front of his chiton and securing golden cuffs around his wrists, Vangelis transferred the bracelet gifted by Silas from his now masked wrist to his and around his bicep, tying once inside of its normal twice.

Exhaling impertinently as the ridiculousness of it all, wiggling his toes in his sandals and securing a black himation in place over his shoulder, Vangelis was ready to leave in as short a time as ever, despite his discomfort or the foreign feel of silk against his skin.

Realising in his reflection in the looking glass in the corner of the room that he had yet to do something with the hair he had towel dried and was now standing on end. Diving his fingers into the locks, Vangelis realised it had now grown long enough to tie back again and fastened his hair at the back of his head with a leather tie. He noted his own reflection making a sidelong smirk at the efficient yet unsmooth knot.

His mother would kill him.

Last to be secured to his person was a second belt - this time functional over aesthetic. The black leather band supported the sheaths for three weapons total - a long knife at his hip and two daggers in a cross at the small of his back. He also had several small blades kept until the golden cuffs, and another two on the inner ankles of his sandals. Crown prince he may be at certain events, but a General he was always.

Refusing the offer of a carriage - for he was not about to arrive at the Leventi manor under anything but his own steam - Vangelis was instead produced a bay gelding that he quickly tempered and turned in the direction he was shown by the servant who had attended to the old Order House in order to guide him in the right direction.

Night had already fallen and Nyx had offered a silky blanket of blues and blacks so dark and shimmering that Vangelis felt he had almost dressed to accompany her celestial art. Turning his attention back to the road, however, Vangelis was cautious to ensure that he could memorise the way back. A caution that turned out to be unnecessary as the main Leventi manor was only twenty minutes down a singular straight road before the Vasiliadon centre and Order House and the two structures that dominated the Leventi grounds on the edge of the city. For the fields upon fields behind it were all in the family's name.

Amused that anyone thought a horse required for the journey at all, Vangelis slid down to the ground, ensured that his lack of familiarity with his attire hadn't caused him to become rucked or tucked in an unfortunate manner, and then stepped forwards through the parted gates of the Leventi gardens.

The front space of the manor was full of raised flower beds, up to mid-thigh on a man as tall as Vangelis. The colours of the blooms were still obvious, even when night had fully fallen, as several metal dishes on podiums were organised throughout and kept lit in favour of their guest. Still more lit brackets were on show either side of the large bronze doors that opened up to the main manor. Or so the servant beside him directed.

Vangelis had been the second manor during an event held by the Lady Evelli on his last visit, but the home of Lord Fotios was a domain he had had yet to breach.

Luckily, seeking permission for such a move, nor storming on through were necessary as the doors opened themselves as he strode down the main path towards the manor house and several servants in livery bowed deep and low to welcome the crown prince of the neighbouring kingdom into the foyer of one of the grandest manors Vangelis had ever stepped into...

She had been restless for most of the night, but the quiet knock on her door followed the Jo slipping into her room had brought her pause. Her heart raced as she torn open the letter, clearly in her uncle’s hand. There was an underlying panic in the back of her mind, thinking that perhaps this was him letting her know that her father had taken a turn in the night. But her mind eased a bit as she realized that this was in reference to the Prince. Her heart took a different beat as she quickly came to terms with the sudden news.

They would be hosting the prince.

He would arrive tomorrow.

The rest of her night was spent tossing and turning, worrying over preparation in her mind. She had been counting on more time, but for what, she hadn’t been sure. Perhaps she thought that she would get a chance to make a quick trip home, to speak with her father about this before returning in time for the dinner. Or maybe she thought that she hoped for the chance for clarification about his visit. If he had been given a week prior to seeing her, then his intentions with Dorothea would be more clear, and she would have a better idea on how to proceed with the whole thing.

Or maybe she had hoped that he would come of his own accord, not forced into their company because of the circumstances. That he would want nothing more than to see her at his earliest convenience…

Perhaps she was just fooling herself.

A quickly written letter to her father, to be sent off in the morning, followed by another one to be left at the temporary home of the Kotas entourage did nothing to help clear her mind. After 3 hours of worrying, she finally took an offered tonic from Jo of valerian root and lavender, helping to ease her mind and slipping into a somewhat restful sleep. While not deep, it was light enough that when she woke with the sun, she still felt like she was ready to start the day. And it wasn’t like she had much of a choice, for there was much to do to prepare for their visit.

Selene was quick to dress that morning, ordering the assembly of the Mercenaries set from the study below to be packed and sent directly to the freshly built order house in which they would be staying. As there was far too much for her to focus on, she skipped a large breakfast, instead of enjoying an apple from the fruit bowl as she tucked the letters away in her heather blue chiton. The one to her father, she explained to one of the servants, need to be dispatched as soon as it could be. Her horse was ordered for the courtyard. Her nerves needed pacifying, so she worked with the saddle herself, letting the action of buckling and settling the leather onto the back of her painted mare.

Jo stuffed the saddlebags with her requested items, another apple to offer to Aphrodite, bay leaves for the temple of Apollo for both her father and Lord Gavrill, and a twig of olives for Hermes, to offer speed to aid Apollo. Guilt washed over her as she set off, knowing that she would not have much time to make a proper prayer for any of them. But, she thought as she dismounted and made her way to the Temple of Aphrodite, she would beg their forgiveness tomorrow. Today, she was quick to visit each one, placing the offering with a quickly said prayer before taking off to the next. As she finished her visit, she turned Gaia around, setting off for the house in which Vang and his companions would be staying.

She could hear her sisters now, clicking away at her because she was seeing to the work of slaves herself. Selene knew that she could have just let them sort out the arrangements, but this was more than just a visit from a prince to her-- this was a visit from a man she considered a friend. And she wanted nothing more than to make him feel at home, as his family had done for her. Everything was new and pristine-- she could tell why her uncle had chosen this for their residence while here. And she set to work, arranging the Mercenaries board on the small table of the study, pouring a cask of the finest wine into a decanter so that it could breathe. Setting out to the stables, she arranged for docile mares for his sister and cousin and two more reliable stallions for Vang and his guard. And the flowers, left in the rooms of the woman, she had taken to arranging herself.

As the day wore on, she knew she had to get moving, for she still had to rush to the palati to speak with Pia about something to wear. Staring at the note in her hands, she debated what to do with it. There was a table in the entryway, which would be noticed as soon as they walked in. She very well could have left it there, but then she would chance someone else reading it first. And what if he didn’t go into the study before leaving for their meal? Standing outside of the door that would be his room, she pondered just how forward he would think the action. But, after all, she did burst into his room when he was half naked, without invitation. Pushing open the door to the master suite, she didn’t hesitate as she placed the note on the bedside table. Without time to do much else, she departed the house, in fear that she might run into them on accident with her own preparations.

The sun was high in the sky as she finally arrived at the palati. It seemed that Pia had taken it upon herself to select a dress, making her sister try it on to make sure the fit was right before adding a pair of earring and a ruby headpiece to go with it. A few alterations from the awaiting seamstress and Selene was once again off, this time, back to the house. She had wanted to help out with the dinner preparations, but upon seeing the dark circles under Selene’s eyes, her aunt sent her straight to rest. Perhaps the early morning rise had been a good idea, she thought as she was undressed and assisted into bed. Too exhausted to think of much else, Selene was able to sink into a deep, restful and dreamless sleep.

Nudged awake by Jo a few hours later, the eldest Leventi stretched lazily, feeling surprisingly relaxed. There was little else she could physically do at this point, and as her slave pressed a cup of tea into her hand, Selene could feel herself getting more and more excited at the chance to see him again. Instead of the public bathhouse, a tub had been placed in her room, filled with hot water. Her preference of rose and ylang-ylang petals were added to the water, along with some honey and goat’s milk. The combination always left a sweet scent on her skin, not too overpowering but enough to bring her comfort and peace. With plenty of time, she stayed in the water until it cooled, taking the offered sheet from Jo to wrap around herself.

A small tray of cheeses and meats were at the vanity for her to snack on while Jo set her hair. Instead of pinning it up, like she often preferred for events like this, she opted to have it down, with large curls against her back. The front portion was braided together and interwoven with the ruby and gold hair chain, joined in the back in an intricate bun. A few tendrils of hair framed her face, and Selene tucked a piece behind her ear, finally content with the way it looked. She kept her makeup simple, choosing a darker tint for her lips, but keeping the lining of her eyes lighter. She normally didn’t opt for a heavy hand, instead of letting her natural beauty be the focus. Any coloring of her cheeks was avoided, so she didn’t appear to be too young.

Jo had hung the dress against the large, open window to allow it to straighten from the journey. From her seat, Selene stared at the dress, a bit unsure of her choice. It was a rich burgundy, like the color of a finely aged wine. But what set the chiton apart was the ungodly amount of expensive and cleverly folded lace. She had almost refused Pia when she was finally in the dress, ensure that it was the right move to make in this situation. But the decision was made, and she refused to doubt herself now, not donning rubies as she was. So she stood, letting the towel fall to the floor as Jo helped her into the dress.

As beautiful as it was hung up, it was even more stunning on. The chiton was far different from others she had worn. Instead of being gathered at the shoulders, the lace of the top crossed in front, covering her breast with thick lace to cause a surprisingly modest neckline. The ends of the top, however, draped down her back, the gauzy material flowing behind her in a short train. The seamstress had hidden a small amount of material on each side, connecting the bottom of the skirts to the top, making it so the dress appeared to be barely attached. But, the majority of her back was exposed-- an idea she would have to become accustomed to. The skirts were lace as well, with several layers towards to top half to keep the decency that was expected. But as the skirts reached the floor, the less lace remained, exposing the gold sandals that were laced up her calf.

Jo tried to suggest a gold pendant, but Selene preferred to be without it. She had enough on, she told her with a slight blush. As she looked into the mirror, the eldest had to remind herself of the woman she had once been. Confidence had been the first word used to describe her. With her uncle watching their interactions closely, she didn’t want to appear as anything but that. While there was an underlying sense of fear throughout the city, Selene was still entertaining him in her home. That brought her comfort, at least.

She took a sip of wine, begging the butterflies within her stomach to settle as it was announced that the Prince has arrived.

She didn’t rush down to the foyer like she wanted to. No, instead she stood at the top of the stairs, taking a deep, calming breath, before descending. As she made her way down to the bottom, she could see that he was already there, but the doors closing behind him let her know that he had only just arrived.

Gods, he was handsome.

It wasn’t as if this was the first time seeing him. He had been healthy during the Circus, but the majority of that day was a blur of commotion and panic. And after that, her memories of him were centered around him having been so close to death, bruised and broken and mending. She’d forgotten how tall he was, or how commanding his presence could be in a room. And she had certainly never seen him in a chiton before, enjoying the obvious strength in his arms that was often hidden by his preferred shirt. She didn’t dare pause to look him over like she wanted to. Instead, she took her to fill as she made her way down, stopping at the bottom to give him a moment.

She dipped into a curtsy, rising up so that her chin was held high. Her smile, however, was unrestrained. It was good to see him again.

”Prince Vangelis, it is so good of you to join us for dinner this evening.” She said softly, stepping up to his side. They were alone, for the most part, so she felt comfortable enough to step to him with a warmth known between friends. ”I do hope you were able to get some rest once you arrived. I could have slept for a whole day after returning. I never would have thought traveling to be so tiring.” Her petite frame looked small compared to him, but that didn’t stop her eyes from locking with his, nor did it squash the way her heart seemed to race.

She should not have missed him as much as she had.

As he entered the Leventi manor, Vangelis was offered the opportunity to be relieved of his himation, but he raised a calming hand to indicate that he would keep it for now. While it seemed odd to be dressed up as so when he preferred casual clothes in all other instances, now that he was attired like a prince, he felt the inclination to at least appear that way to his hosts.

One of which was sooner to appear than expected.

Vangelis had barely entered the foyer - expected his inviter to either be in the room awaiting him or need to be summoned for his presence. The half way measure of having one of the Leventi family approaching him upon his entrance was not one he had expected but he also saw no harm in it. Vangelis was perhaps the last to stand on - nay notice - ceremony among his siblings, despite his lessons in such a thing being longer and far more intense in preparation for his future as king.

Standing in the grand foyer, Vangelis allowed his weight to shift a little, for one hand to drop and hide beneath his himation and the other to find the pommel of the knife at his waist, content with one of his weapons to hand. It was in this position that he looked up at a flash of colour to note the Lady Selene approaching him from above.

His first impressions of her visage were as he had expected and remembered. Elegant in line and soft in image, she was the epitome of what a woman should look like. He had seen few that occupied that same space of womanly and petite and Selene felt right into that category. Her blonde hair, which was always full of life and volume hung mostly down and her small body and long legs were clad in a gown designed - he assumed - to impress.

The curving, marble staircase upon which she stood and then made her way down, offered for a triumphant entrance - especially when most buildings outside of royal circles never ventured beyond the first floor. The very fact that Selene had a balustrade and steps to make her way down upon was a symbol of her family's wealth and power just in and of itself. The architecture was only emphasised when the trailing ends of her shirts danced over the steps as they fell down each in turn in the wake of her descent.

Distracted for a moment by a flash of metallic, Vangelis realised with the slight widening of his eyes and the clearing of his brow that the woman's skirts were not opaque... that the glint he caught was the shine of sandals, sparkling through the material and outlining thin calves that he couldn't actually see beyond the thin burgundy silks.

Blinking and skittering his gaze over the rest of the dress so as to actually meet his friend's gaze, Vangelis found himself offering one of his rare half smiles at her warm and welcome one.

When she came to a stop before him, Vangelis was surprised to note how small she was. Not short for a woman, really - her legs were too long for that - but she had always appeared taller somehow... Which only reminded him that this was mostly due to Vangelis having been bed-bound or hobbling around with his injuries the last time they had met. It had been a rare thing for them where he had been able to stand on his own two feet and at his full stature, in her presence.

His smile flickered as she told him she was glad of him joining the household for dinner.

"Considering the wording of your uncle's note, I thought it might risk my health to refuse." He told his friend. "And if I were tired by travel, I am in the wrong career." He told her with another lilt of humour to his voice. He spent most of his time on boats or away from home but he knew that many struggled to find rest when not in their own beds. "But I did manage to sleep a little since coming ashore, yes. I think you, my Lady."

Unsure on the appropriate level of formality and propriety when it came to someone you considered a friend but was technically an unattached member of the opposite sex whom he was scheduled to dine with in a formal manner, Vangelis' manners fell to his standard princely lessons as the lord of the House appeared in order to join in with the greetings...

Fotios of Leventi was not a man to get nervous. Nor anxious, nor trepidacious. He most he allowed his emotions to control his thoughts was on the rare occasion that he became concerned. This was just such a time.

The Leventi family had, as far as his father would have said, been cursed by the Gods in their recent generation, secured in their future by only one small male heir and continuation of the line. All others birthed of the name were female. Fotios, however, liked to see this more as an opportunity than as a detriment. While his own daughters weren't attractive enough to seduce a suitor of appropriate stature, he had ensured that they would each come with a dowry too stupendous for any sane man to reject. Ergo, they would marry eventually. To whom, he would insist it did matter so long as they met the expected criteria - the most important of which, was that he took the Leventi name upon marrying either Agape, Melina or Dafni. The Leventi name and legacy would remain in his bloodline and he had been working day in and out to secure the funds to make such a hypothetical future become fact.

Outside of his immediate familial connections, however, there was then his brothers' children. Of Evangelina, Fotios cared not - he wanted to ensure her marriage because her mother was a pain in his rear end and daughter was growing up to be much too like mother for his liking. Konstantinos, of course, he would take in under his wing to ensure a male line of order within the family at least somewhere in their family tree. As for Georgios' daughters - now there was an opportunity to be had beyond all others. His eldest two - Selene and Theodora - had grown unto such beauties that people claimed them to be blessed by the Gods themselves. Rumours that Fotios had, of course, done everything in his power to emphasise and to continue to be spread. Then there was Olympia - smart as a whip if a little on the romantic side and had secured herself a marriage without his aid anyway. Nana was highly beautiful and - so far - had grown up stupid, so men would flock to her. And by the time Imma was ready to be married, the others would be so well connected and she would come with so valuable a set of family relations that she could spend all day with those paintbrushes she loved so much wedged up her nose and her future husband would not care.

At least... that was the plan. Provided he could get the eldest two married. And married well. Theodora was well on her way, provided her childish feelings towards her intended's brother didn't get in the way (though hopefully the reveal that he had been unfaithful to their frivolous little affair would have her sobbing her way down the aisle faster than any incentive he gave could carry her) and that left just one lose end to be secured.

Selene.

Selene was an odd creature. Despite being beautiful, blessed, intelligent, musical and well versed in the arts of conversation, etiquette and hostessing, she had yet to secure an offer of marriage that was worth of her hand. There had been a few, of course. Silly boys yet to be men who had thought to marry her to escalate their own position in society. Fotios had snubbed them hard and ensured that no such engagements wasted his time again. From the higher circles of society, however, she had yet to extract those crucial words of promise. Fotios wasn't sure if her reputation made men feel that a no would be automatic and therefore an offer pointless - the idea that she might be out of their league, so to speak. Or if it was that she was too innocent - a woman of chaste propriety and collected manners was less exciting perhaps than the more sexually and seductively inclined females of the court. Fotios could hardly argue with such logic, given the woman he had married.

Either way, however, this newest development was one that looked to quash all previous concerns regarding Selene and her status as an unattached maiden.

A crown prince would have no need or want of a buxom or forward woman. Nor would he be concerned with her refinement and beauty being out of his league. If anything, a military man was not but ambitious was he not? A conqueror at heart? One who might desire to touch that which no-one else had or that which no-one else was grand enough to be permitted to?

Yes... under all considerations, Vangelis of Kotas would do very well for Selene of Leventi.

It was to this end that Fotios made sure his wife Eirini was both in control of the dinner and hostessing for the evening and would be in attendance for the dinner. Her ways of charm and decorum would work well in any pauses that Selene may hesitate in. It would have been nice to have her sister Olympia performing such a task but the girl had been put on strict bedrest until issues regarding her pregnancy were calmed. As such, Eirini had stepped into the void and the dinner had become a party of six. Himself and his wife, the prince and Selene, and his two eldest daughters Agape and Melina who were old enough to attend the dinner and would therefore have seemed inappropriate to be absent. They had been told, however, to remain quiet unless spoken to at the table.

After checking on the placements within the dining hall - the Lord Kotas would take the seat to Fotios' right and he had insisted that Selene be beside Eirini so as to have the two facing one another and able to converse easily enough. The fact that Melina would then be beside Vangelis was of no import as she would have nothing to say to the man and with her timid nature be terrified of him and his reputation anyway Agape would sit beside Selene and hopefully show off her cousin’s brilliancy just by comparison.

With arrangements made and checked, Fotios was then able to attend to creating their guest whom had been announced into the foyer in that moment.

Dressed in a formal chiton of white with gold and purple trimming, Fotios made his way down the hall and into the foyer just in time to witness Selene speaking with the prince and catching the tail end of her conversation.

Fotios waited on the prince's response before he then held out a hand to the man, his wide sleeve opening up before them.

"You are most welcome within my home, Prince of Colchis." Fotios greeted with a rare, genuine smile. "I am glad to hear that the journey was not too concerning for you and that you were able to join us this evening." He continued, mimicking Selene's earlier words. "Perhaps you would care to follow me to one of our reading chambers. My wife is seeing to last minute preparations for the meal and my two eldest will be joining us once the call to the table is made, but until then a class of wine and conversation, perhaps?"

Turning with an encouraging look towards the prince who was both as handsome as people said but as expressive as a rock as others rumoured, and leg the two towards a side chamber in which were cases upon cases of books lining the walls and a plethora of different seats from which to choose.

Taking one of the high-backed western chairs for himself - a perch he always favoured - he noted the Colchian prince's decision to take the other with a slight twinge of disappointment, for close proximity on a lounger could do wonders in bringing two young people together. He was, however, mildly amused when he noted the Colchian to sit, move in a manner that might have suggested he was about to place one of his ankles on the opposing knee and then quickly change his mind at the last minute to make it one leg over the other. Perhaps the man was not used to wearing such formal attire... Luckily, he corrected his issue with a firm and decisive shift that made it look deliberate and did so early enough to avoid embarrassment. The man was quick-minded. Fotios would remember that.

Looking towards Selene and then glancing at the wine on the side bureau, Fotios waited for the girl to take the hint and then begin conversation. While the girl might not have been forward or dominant in her allures, etiquette and chat were her forte and he would not step on her toes when she had a moment to show her worth to their guest.

Selene wasn’t delusional in her uncle’s frustration with her. With almost 30 summers to her name, she should have been married long ago. It was rare for a woman of her beauty and wealth to still be unattached. And it wasn’t that offers hadn’t been made for her hand. But her father had raised her to expect no less than royalty for her name. She was beautiful and well raised, but a bit opinionated when it came to refusing others. And, with those factors, it wasn’t all that surprising that men of worth seemed to be hesitant to ask.

They would seek her out because of her beauty, but would often be turned down by their lack of substance.

Like most of the people of Taegnea, she had been rethinking the importance of title alone. Many who had died that day were of noble birth, and the security that came with money and title meant nothing at their hands. Selene hadn’t exactly been sure that she knew what she wanted from life. And then, she met Vangelis-- a prince set to inherit a country, one of the very things she was so uncertain of wanting anymore. But, perhaps for the first time, she was far more focused on him as a person instead of his title. She had been attracted to his strength, his solid wisdom and steadfast loyalty.

She was sure that if Vang was not a prince, Selene would want him all the same.

Seeing him again, knowing that he was whole and healed, brought warmth to her soul. The last time she saw him had been in that carriage, her departure a bit intense. He looked strong and healthy, and she may have teased him a bit on the matter if her uncle hadn’t walked into the room at the same time. Her head dipped in greeting to him as well, stepping back a bit to allow the proper pleasantries to be made between host and guest. When the suggestion was made that they spend time in the reading room prior to dinner, Selene allowed the men to take the lead. It gave her a moment to collect her thoughts, to think of just want she wanted from this.

Their friendship had been developing slowly over the past few weeks, and she was certain that she enjoyed his company. He was very different than any man she had ever met in her life, and perhaps that was part of his appeal. But it was more than that-- it was the way that he seemed to bring her back into focus, to take her concerns and give them merit. Although her emotions were feminine in nature, he never made her feel weak for having them. No, he challenged her to conquer her own fears and to embrace them. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized that perhaps that had been what she was waiting for.

Someone who demanded more from herself than just her looks and her ability to entertain. Someone who knew that she could be more and pushed her to find that strength within herself. She didn’t want to be the pretty thing on a husband’s arm-- she wanted to be a partner, a companion. And as he settled into the armchair, she couldn’t help but hope that he would one day see her as his match.

In her own thoughts, she almost missed her uncle’s subtle nod towards the decanter of wine. She moved without a sound, her back to the men as she poured three full goblets of the fine wine. Taking two, she moved to the men in their chairs, handing one first to the highest ranking man in the room-- Vang-- then to her uncle. Turning back, she plucked her own glass from the table and took a seat, tucking her ankles together beneath her dress. ”I hope that your journey here was far less eventful than mine to Colchis. Every time I see a thundercloud, I seem to get a bit seasick.” There was so much more she wished to ask him.

How was his sister? His family? Had his brother recovered from his moments of insanity? How was Colchis fairing after the fires? How was he feeling? From his gait, he looked no worse for wear, but she was still concerned. And yet, she held her tongue in the company of her uncle, not wishing to say more than he wished to share freely. And she allowed him to be the better judge of that. ”I hope that Midas is well on its way to recovering after the fires?” She asked cautiously, knowing that it was most likely a safe topic to broach with present company.

When Selene stepped back a half step to allow the appearance and greetings of her uncle, Vangelis was allowed the space to nod his own head in respect for the bow the head of the Leventi House offered him. It was always a little awkward playing the role of crown prince in another kingdom. Technically his rank exceeded almost everyone he met when he was abroad. But it also, in some ways, meant nothing to the kingdom in which he stood. So, it always paid to at least show polite respect for authority wherever one went - regardless of your own royal blood.

Fotios was welcoming as Vangelis had expected but his experiences with foreign - and native Colchian - nobles was to never trust politeness for compassion or respect for liking. Fotios was welcoming a prince into his home. The response would be the same whether Vangelis was his own person or an entirely different individual.

With Selene, he knew that not to be the case as she offered him a warm smile and a simple hand gesture to indicate him to walk down the corridor before her, following her uncle to the study room he had suggested for a pre-dinner conversation and drink. Normally, Vangelis would insist that a lady precede him but this was her home and she was - as the lady currently present - just as much a hostess as her uncle was the host. So, he politely respected her instruction and followed after the Lord Fotios.

It was as he walked down the marble lined corridor that Vangelis was reminded - surprisingly - that he didn't mind wearing the sandals. Not good protection in battle obviously but certainly not as uncomfortable as he remembered. It didn't dawn on him that his feet and ankles had strengthened through years of marching and holding his balance on boats so that his feet no longer shifted against the leather straps.

The chiton, however, he found more awkward. As he entered the reading room behind its owner and moved to take a seat in a high backed winged chair of interesting proportions - it was large and seemed like it might fit his large frame better than something like the elegant, spindly lounger, Vangelis naturally moved to place one ankle over his knee, only realising just in time that such a movement would open the garment to display the beneath in full view. With a tightening of his jaw and a small transition of movement, Vangelis was able to secure his knee over the other instead, ensuring that the chiton remained in place and his dignity intact. Where were his riding pants when he needed them?

Distracting himself and the Lord Fotios who seemed to watch him with a hawkish expression he did not particularly like, Vangelis turned his attention to Selene as she had followed in behind him.

When she turned to move towards the bureau, Vangelis first thought was where she was going, given that it was in the same direction as the door. It was only after a moment that he realised she was producing refreshments of the group.

With an elbow on the arm of his chair and his knuckles rested against his jaw and mouth, Vangelis watched as the Leventi lady went about her task, a little distracted by her shoulder blades as they moved. It was a bizarre notion but Vangelis couldn't help the voice inside his head that commented on even her skeleton being graceful as the light groove of her spine undulated as she carefully poured the wine into three cups she had produced. Despite the skin in question being flawlessly smooth and a pretty tone, Vangelis mused to himself that Selene's beauty was far from skin deep. He admired the dedication in her younger years that would have caused her posture and hold to be what it was. He had watched his mother struggle with such tutorship over Asia and knew that grace and poise didn't always come naturally. It took a lot of work to be an elegant lady.

Blinking as Selene turned back to face the room and realising his gaze had been ruminating on the dip at the small of her back, Vangelis chastised himself and adjusted his eyeline to meet her own as she approached him with the cup she had poured.

Taking it from her hand with thanks, Vangelis held it before himself but didn't drink. He never drank, in fact, in a place where his identity was known without a taste tester before him. It was a fact and simple reality of his role. Instead, he had clearly seen Selene pour the wine in each cup from the same jug and therefore was able to take a sip as soon as her uncle did from his own goblet.

The entire thing happened so subtly it might not have been noticed and didn't even really invade Vangelis' thoughts. It was just a habit of eating and drinking that he had picked up.

When Selene spoke to him, Vangelis focused on her over her uncle and spoke with a soft smile.

"Seasickness notwithstanding, my Lady, storms make for interesting journeys." He offered her. "We can't know what we're made of until tested."

This then led on smoothly to her next query regarding the fires in the capitol and the crown prince lost that small ghost of a smile only to offer what report he could.

"As well as can be expected. Most of our city is stone - the fire had little effect on its main infrastructure. It was more personal possessions, items of a flammable nature, that were lost. Sentiment and effort, more than anything else." Vangelis offered the slight raising of one of his shoulders. "A harsh eventuality but one we are used to in Colchis." His features settled into an expression of pride. "We do not breed soft people in the mountains. And we just continue to grow and thrive, as we always have."

As she tucked herself into the chair, settling her skirts appropriately, Selene found herself wishing for a moment or two alone with the prince. She wished to say more, to speak of things he had made a point of keeping secret for the protection of Colchis. She longed to drop the pretense, going back to the comfort they had found within each other when alone. While she had missed him, she found herself missing who she was when she was in Colchis. She liked how bold she could be, how brave he made her feel.

Coming home, it was hard not to revert a bit back to the way she was right after the Circus. She pulled herself into her small circle, focusing strictly on her family. It was hard to want to participate in life like she had wanted to do prior to the havoc. As much as she wanted to believe that the people she kept in her company were upstanding, there was no way to know for sure. And there was no way for her to let that underlying fear go. Instead, it seemed that everyone was reacting in the same way. Streets cleared earlier, shops seemed to no longer keep the solo establishment. And the frequency in which they were closed was much higher. Even with everything calmer, it seemed as if the whole kingdom was on edge.

And in this unstable time, it didn’t help that they also had a new king who was doing his best to put on a brave face after the murder of his father and his brother. Stephanos’s whole life was turned upside down, with no time to adjust to it. Instead, he and his new wife were doing their best.

Selene hadn’t missed the way Vangelis seemed to stare at her, and Olympia had known that this would be his reaction to the dress. She hadn’t wanted to wear the dress, feeling that it would make everyone certain of one thing. But now, she didn’t know what to make of his guarded face. Still, she smiled at him, sipping her wine slowly. His comment about the travel produced a soft laugh, ”Well, it would seem that I am certainly not fit for life at sea. I believe at one point, the captain suggested I tie myself to the chair, in order to avoid being tossed around. Initially, I laughed, but as soon as the first wave tossed me across the room, I realized his advice was not to be taken lightly.” She shifted a bit, the lace of the dress slipping over her knee to reveal the gold of her sandals, calves exposed.

But it wasn’t for long, as a skilled flick of her wrist readjusted the maroon cloth to a proper position.

”Perhaps, if I travel more, I will come to love it. As long as I do not find myself in Poseidon's wrath again.” Her goblet lifted to the sky, her prayer to the mentioned God obvious before she took a bit longer of a pull. ”Poor Jo never seemed to find her, what do you call them, sea legs?” Her poor slave was green the entire trip. ”She kissed the ground as soon as she was back on land.”

Relaxing against the seat, Selene listened carefully to the words. Grief for their loss filled her heart, wishing that it hadn’t happened. It made her wonder just how much of the city was gone, and if there was anything her family could do to help. ”If anyone can sympathize with that, it would be the people here. I pray that everything is rebuildable and that it happens swiftly.” She made a mental note to make offerings to the gods, proper ones that would perhaps bring their mercy on his people. ”You’ll have to let me know if there is anything we can do to help. After the kindness your family showed to me while I was there, it is the least I can do to repay your actions.”

That made her think of another safe topic, one they could both openly talk about in front of her uncle. ”How is your sister faring with the filly? I do not think I’ve seen anyone so happy as she was once she realized that the beast was hers.” She would keep his sister’s secret about her quiet fear of horses. Hopefully, they would be able to conquer that fear, should Selene get any time with her later on. ”I’ve never known a more docile horse, so I think it would suit her well.”

Vangelis nodded as Selene commented her journey - mentioning the "sea legs" that her slave girl never seemed to manage. His nod was one of formality and politeness; tied up in hiding the way his gaze had naturally dropped for a moment, attracted momentarily by the glint of her sandals.

"It takes time..." Vangelis simply commented in line with her words. "You were perhaps not long enough at sea for her balance to adjust. I assure you it does - with time..."

The crown princes sipped from his cup. He detested small talk. While he had no issue with the people who initiated it - it was a social convention; one expected and trained into those of upper birth and a way of showing that one wanted to connect on at least a shallow level - he still found himself uncomfortable and a little resentful at the waste of time required to chatter about meaningless matters. He knew he shouldn't be - that he should give other nobles and ladies the consideration of respect when they engaged him in conversation. But the truth was that it became an effort in Vangelis' mind to answer queries or statements with anything more than a simple "yes" or "no" answer. Why was anything more needed? Why the chatter and embellishment.

When Selene mentioned about his sister and the mare she had been gifted, Vangelis was about to speak and respond that they were each doing fine and suited to one another when a woman approached the main door to the room. Looking up, Vangelis nodded from his seated position in respect to the lady who stepped into the room, for she was clearly the mistress of her domain and - at his best guess - Lord Fotios' wife.

"Your Highness, please do excuse my interruption..." The woman before them responded before executing possibly the most well performed and incredibly low curtsy. Whether deliberate or pure luck it was a penitent flagellation that offered the opening at the front of her gown to droop, offering a lot of show and even more promised. Combining such a gown choice with the impeccable makeup of bold strokes and deep colour, Vangelis surmised the woman to be the rumoured Lady Eirini. Queen of the Taengean Court, no matter whom Stephanos had recently married. "I must speak with my husband regarding a matter. Please content yourself for I shall only keep him a moment."

There was a pause as the lady of the House watched Vangelis, clearly waiting on a permission of some sort. Vangelis raised a hand out, palm up - a sign of encouragement to leave, as Fotios stood from his chair, bowed and then left the room with his wife. Vangelis noticed that Fotios left the door open and it was his wife who reached back around him to shut it after his departure.

Focusing back on what he had been going to say, Vangelis set his cup to one side and placed both elbows on the arms of his chair, linking his fingers over his lap. Had he been at home, in the company of none but his family - or even just keeping his own solitary presence - he would have been sitting in a large lounger designed for his frame, beside a fire. He would have slouched and slumped, his ankle cocked over one knee, his finger laced together over his lower belly and his posture totally disintegrated. He spent all day on show before his troops. He never set straight if he could help it. Now, he was forced to do so, so that he might not accidentally disrobe himself.

"Asia is content yet she rides little now. I suspect she has not the confidence to do so alone. I was intending to beg your company sometime this week so that she might ride with you. Encourage the enjoyment of it again, so that she might continue once back home."

The lack of time at sea was something she was thankful for. The storms they had endured had been rough, the same winds having destroyed the harbor, circling in their path for her ship to encounter. And while the captain had been a fine man, he was not dumb enough to try and weather the storm and endanger a gentle lady like Selene.

And while some would have considered the stop in Colchis to be a curse in their journey, the eldest Leventi felt like it had been more of a blessing. Perhaps the Gods had wished for her to keep a future king company. Or to fall in love with another land besides her own. Whatever the reason, the detour to Colchis had been absolutely heavenly. And she looked back at it fondly every chance she got.

She was about to respond to him when her aunt entered the room. Gracefully, she was on her feet, head slightly bowed out of respect to her aunt. Even though she was family, her title was still above her own, and that meant that Selene was expected to show her such courtesies. While some family may have found it obnoxious, she knew that her aunt would expect such respect. As her uncle exited the room, she stayed on her feet until the door closed.

As it shut, it was as if a flint had been struck. Selene’s shoulder straightened, her eyes brightened with the mirth that had filled them during their time together in Colchis. Finally alone, private enough to take her fill of him openly without judgment, Selene approached him, her eyes making more of a show to take him in. Her eyes dropped to his shoulder, which had been beaten and bruised and could barely move in the beginning, noting that any sign of weakness was long gone. The muscles stretched and curved with health, what she had remembered of him that day in the Circus.

Boldly, she knelt down in front of him, her hand quickly reaching out to lift his cheeks to the light of the room. She hadn’t gotten a chance to really look over his face. Her actions were that of a concerned friend, making sure he was whole and healed and no worse for wear. Like her actions back in Colchis, they would have been rude had anyone been there. She didn’t give him much of a chance to react as she let his face go, obviously satisfied with what she saw.

On her feet quickly, she took to the chair next to him, angling herself towards him, feet once again tucked together. ”The Gods must have blessed you with advanced healing— I was expecting more of a trace of your injuries after such a short time. How are you feeling?” They had agreed to drop any formality when they were alone, and Selene wholeheartedly believed that it was perfectly acceptable to still do so.

While in Colchis, he had seen first hand her open concern, her caring nature. Now, with the formality brought with her Uncle’s presence, it was more obvious that none of that had been an act while with him. ”The journey wasn’t too trying?” With his injuries, and the fires, she would have been exhausted to then travel halfway across the country. Her questions made it obvious that she was used to being a mother hen, worrying about those she cared about. ”I was pleased to hear you made it safely.”

Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, her joy apparent.

As soon as the door was pulled to a close, Vangelis noted the light jolt of energy that seemed to spark through Selene, now that they were alone in the room. His own countenance did not change - he remained where he was with the appropriate posture and terse expression - but neither did he react negatively towards the change in the lady. He had, in fact, been expecting it somewhat.

Selene was a mistress of all things etiquette and appropriate. While he himself did not always follow the line of decorum and public behaviour, Vangelis was well aware of what the rules were. He just, more often than not, refused to follow them and knew that his rank and bloodline would permit such stubbornness. Ergo his lack of personal social manners did nothing to alleviate his recognition of Selene of Leventi's. She was an elegant woman, taught well and highly gracefully - both in nature and in training.

It was that offering of her - not a mirage or lie, but a certain manner of presenting - that had greeted him in the foyer of the manor and had persisted through the corridor and into the reading room. The fact that they had just been graced with privacy meant that another element of her personality had been expected to make an appearance. No less real or truthful, Selene was given opportunity to dispense with pleasantries and head for that which she wanted to know. Mostly, it would seem, regarding his health.

Moving his legs aside instinctively as Selene came to kneel before him, Vangelis' brows rose in surprise as her taking to her knees and then at her reaching out towards his face.

Uncertain how to behave and particularly unused to having a woman sticking her hands in his face, no matter how gracefully she did it or how pretty her fingers, Vangelis stiffened, his jaw turning up and out of the way and his expression remaining terse as Selene directed his face into most obvious candlelight, more by the threat of touching him than actual skin to skin contact.

He rested back into his position of comfort when she retracted her hands and spoke of his appearance of health.

He could do little in response to her offering that he had been blessed by the Gods in his healing. It had been six weeks since he had last seen her - eight since the cave in that had left him bedridden. He would have been angry at himself had he not been back to fighting health by now. And in truth his body had been externally injured very little. Whilst the physician had commented on his bones taking most of the damage during the storm, his skin and muscles had - ironically - taken far less. Perhaps it was due to him not fighting against the rocky avalanche - having someone there to dig him out instead. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been carried from the caves back home, or the fact that the rocks that had fallen upon him had been wet, reducing friction and the scratching of skin. Whatever it was, Vangelis had no external signs of his run in in the Colchian mines besides the thin scar left by the gasp down one bicep - currently covered by his himation, and a nasty, wonky looking scarification over his ankle that was hard to see in the shadow of his chiton and the leather straps of his sandals. Everything else about him was now the picture of health; his only issues now being when pushed to his physical limits.

"I'm perfectly fine." He told Selene, in a tone that was both honest but a touch defensive that she was mothering him so. He appreciated her concern - could feel the compassion she held within her for those she shared friendship with pouring from her in waves. But Vangelis had been very aware throughout their last visit that he had been little more than an infant the last time they had seen each other. Unable to stand or even sit up without aid for most of her stay. Unable to feed himself with his dominant hand. While he hadn't realised it until this moment, Vangelis was now aware - informed by the sting in his pride - that he had been looking forward to readdressing that impression the next time they had met. His injuries and health being brought up as the first topic of conversation once they were alone, was not something his ego was happy about. Regardless of how his stomach seemed to tighten at the idea that she cared for his wellbeing.

"The journey was of no import. I'm used to such things."

When his words caused a moment of quiet that signified he might have made her uncomfortable, Vangelis commented in order to change the subject. For, as much as he disliked the idea of discussing his level of fitness as if he were a delicate babe, he did not seek to embarrass her.

"How was your journey home? I hope that you family keep in good health?"

Her mother had always stressed dignity and decorum. There was a time and place for her gentler, nurturing side to come out. And there was a risk of appearing too soft was not a trait of a Queen. In private, she could stop suppressing the part of her that court would find weak and could openly show that side of her. And while some might consider her fake for acting different in private, Selene wasn’t rude or inconsiderate to anyone in public.

She just wasn’t openly affectionate in that concern.

Vang had experienced her ‘mothering’ fairly extensively while in Midas. It had been a fine line between being kind and being overbearing. But she had been able to read his body language, knowing when to back off and when to indulge herself in his kindness. There was a point, about a week in, when she realized that this kind of concern from an outside source was not something he was used to. In a family of sisters, they were far more open in showing their feelings. There was no stereotype of strength to stand up against in the face of illness or injury. For him, a house full of military men had made weakness something to be dismissed. And her ministrations only brought to light that, not even he was immune to injury. And that fact that she chose to focus on in initially only made him feel weak.

At least, that was what she assumed.

She couldn’t help herself as she examined his face closer, ignoring the way he initially pulled back before he accepted that she needed to see for herself that his health was intact. She tried to make it quick, silently amused by his mild look of disgust on his face. The prince obviously didn’t like to be coddled, sick or well.

”It’s good to see your strength has returned as I remember it.” While his focus had been on their time together in Colchis, Selene’s strongest memories of him were those moments in the Circus, the tales of the aftermath. And those images of him at his strongest only made her concern for him to return to that same state more strong. ”And that my doctoring still annoys you.” Her voice was light, eyes bright. There was no sign of offense in her tone, because she wasn’t. This was exactly how she expected him to react. ”Fear not, my Prince, I will not ask of it again.”

Selene could tell that he wished the topic dropped, and she had no problem following his lead. ”Uneventful, as compared to the voyage from Athenia to Colchis. I believe I’ve developed an affinity for fishing, as it were. The crew thought it amusing when I asked to assist. But by the second day, they seemed to look forward to my lessons. Perhaps because I still cannot bring myself to touch them once caught.” The anecdote, while appropriate for the company of others may have brought a glare from her uncle. This felt safer.

”Have things with your brother and his wife resolved? You spoke of it in passing last time, but I am truly curious if there is a renewed peace within your home.” She didn’t expect him to go into detail about it, but would be happy to hear from him that his household has quieted since his last letters.

Vangelis said nothing when Selene commented on being thankful that his health was returned. Instead, the muscle in his jaw twitched and his throat tightened against her ministrations... clear indicators that he was touched by her concern but wasn't going to admit that come hell or high water.

When she commented on him disliking her doctoring him, all he did was raise an eyebrow as he looked down at her, his expression speaking volumes.

When she had finally sat in the seat opposite him and they had begun discussing their individual sea voyages, the set of Vangelis' shoulders appeared to slacken and relax just an inch. He was reduced down from stone to iron in his stoicism, now that she wasn't invading his personal space or attempting to mother him. It was interesting how the two of them displayed such obviously native traits to their kingdoms. Taengeans were, after all, known for being overtly friendly and having less respect for personal spheres of space than the abrupt and off-putting Colchians.

As Selene discussed her ability to fish but her complete inability to touch or hold the creatures that she caught, the atmosphere in the room relaxed still further as Vangelis' lips crept into that casual half-smirk that settled for a smile. He found that the mental image of her holding out a net of dripping creatures with a face of disgust and telling the seaman to take it from her was one that amused him.

"I think, sometimes, my Lady, that you are too delicate." He told her with a teasing glint to his eye. "The next time you come to Colchis I will have to teach you how to catch lobster. That is a highly inelegant occupation and one that is completely with zero grace whatsoever." He told her with a lilt to his voice.

When the subject of his brother and sister-in-law was brought up, Vangelis' amusement drifted into resignation, but one that was more hopeful than damning.

"They continue to work together." He told her, glancing at the emptiness of the room before he went further in their privacy. "I think it likely they have never learnt to be husband and wife." He admitted to Selene, the thoughts that had dawned on him during his hours of contemplation on the voyage between Colchis and Taengea. "The two fell in love, married and continued being lovers." One of his shoulder's raised in a gesture of "what can you do?"... "I don't think they actually learnt how to be a married couple until they realised several weeks ago that they were, in fact, not one... I believe they are now learning that."

In Vangelis' opinion and experience, lovers - though a wonderful aspect of any marriage - was a relationship far different from that of a married couple. While the emotions and feeling had never left Zanon and Evras, it had never been tamed or secured through the behaviours and expectations of a husband and wife. They had simply felt and reacted at every step of the journey. And it had led them somewhere highly emotional and uncontrollable. Until Vangelis had stepped in to control it.

It certainly was interesting the way in which they both were perfect examples of their culture and people. Her beliefs in warmth and openness were some of the highlights of the people she grew up with. She tried to be kind and caring without being too overprotective; tried to be compassionate without being overbearing. And while she knew she wasn’t perfect, she tried to balance being true to her culture while being true to herself. And while he insisted that his own social skills lacked her practice and expertise, Selene found it fascinating to watch and learn what mattered to him.

Strength, obviously, was an important Colchian trait. She had seen that first hand as he maintained his composure in the heat of chaos. And it was even more apparent during his recovery that he appear to be a pillar of strength, regardless of how he truly felt. Her own ability to read people had told her that he had been in pain, but would refuse to show it to her if at all possible. It also seemed that Colchis believed in presenting a united front. While Selene’s own beliefs aligned with his in that respect, it was fairly well known that Taengeans loved to gossip. The social scene in the city was a hotbed for rumors that often brought on social suicide. But in a large family, it was often important to keep confidence as much as possible. But the trait she valued the most in him and his family was their loyalty. Yes, at first it was hard to gain their trust. But as soon as they let down their defenses and let you in, you were under their protection. As much as their people and cultures were different, it seemed that her core beliefs aligned perfectly with his.

Her shift in stories had accomplished her goal of helping him relax further into his chair. She wanted to beam as the corner of his mouth turned upward into a smile. Fortunately, she was able to resist as he called her delicate. She wanted to puff out her chest, offended at his teasing. But then again, the sheer fact that he was teasing her at all was new. And she liked it. ”I will have you know that most Taengean men prefer their woman to be a bit delicate. But I did grow up among horses and stables. If you are willing to teach, even the most inelegant of lessons, I am eager to learn.” Her own eyes were glittering with mirth and happiness. She had missed him, had missed trying to make him smile like this. For two weeks, they had spent almost every day with each other, keeping the other company while experiencing their own ‘captivity’. And in that two weeks, they had grown from simple acquaintances to friends. Now, being reunited with him brought a quiet joy to her heart.

Selene’s smile softened as he spoke openly about his family. It was good to hear that Zanon and his wife were learning and growing together as a couple. ”I suppose it’s better to learn that you have to grow together instead of growing apart.” It was not as if she was any sort of relationship expert, but she could see how it could happen. How you could be so caught up in the romance and heat of love that you never were able to transition into the team of a married couple. Perhaps that was one of the downfalls of falling in love. If your marriage was arranged, you’d have to learn how to be husband and wife before you fell in love. ”It may not bring peace immediately, but I would think that it would be calm long term. As things settle in Midas, perhaps they too will find their routine and happiness.” She has liked his family, even if Zanon has strong armed her into staying with the family. And Selene truly had enjoyed her stay, had enjoyed meeting a few of its people.

”And your sister? How is she fairing with her new horse? The beast was quite tame when I rode her.” she didn’t know how long she had before her uncle rejoined them and wanted to take advantage of his laid back attitude for as long as possible.

As Selene's features twitched slightly at his remark of her being delicate, Vangelis felt a stirring he was unused to. After a moment, he had a suspicion that the feeling - somewhere around his lower chest - was amusement. He had pricked her sensitivities with his insinuation of weakness and - in the same way he would enjoy needling at his brothers, he found himself warming to the implied intimacies of teasing the blonde.

"Fairing well enough." Was his answer to her later question regarding his sister. "Athanasia has inherited the family passion but less so the Kotas discipline." He admitted to the Lady Selene, confident by now in her discretion. "I'm hoping some lessons with the Lady Dorothea of Dimitrou, while we're here, will encourage such steadfastness in her archery. Perhaps the trait, once learned, will carry over." He told her openly, thinking nothing for the mention of the other Taengean noble woman.

Before he could say little more, the door to the study was opened and a servant stood in the open way.

"Permit me, your Highness... my Lady... but Lord Leventi says that dinner is to be served directly."

Settling aside his chalice and rising to his feet in a manner that was more efficient than elegant, Vangelis' very movements indicating his preference in life - speed and effectiveness over aesthetically pleasing...

When the lady beside him rose to her feet also, Vangelis offered out his arm for her to take in a rare moment of gentility that belied his upbringing.

"Permit me this, my Lady." He told her calmly. "For, at least this time, I'm able to behave with a chivalry my mother won't scold me for."

The last time they had seen each other, they had rarely touched when walked about. Sometimes it was due to his inability to walk smoothly and needing the space to hobble around - sometimes it was simply that he did not wish for her to see him move with such awkwardness. The few times they had touched and walked together had been the brief moments in which he had stumbled and her compassionate nature had had her stepping forward to support him. It had been a kick to his pride that he now felt the desire to correct by escorting her appropriately through the dining hall. Despite the reality that she would be, in fact, leading the way.

They had laid the foundation for this banter with the two weeks she spent in Colchis, and with the letters exchanged back and forth between the two. She had chosen to show him both her strengths and her vulnerabilities, trusting in him to only use it when they were alone. And she knew that there was a level of trust between them. After all, she had seen him weak, information that she could have easily shared with others. Instead, she had done as she promised, keeping his condition to herself. So it was nice to see that he was still willing to poke a little fun at her, as she had willingly done to him as often as it felt appropriate.

While Selene couldn’t hide her disappointment that the princess hadn’t been riding her horse as much as she would have liked, she was pleased to know that there was a general goal for her visit. Allowing the princess to learn a task that would give her direction would help with her focus, would drive her to calm and to be more reserved in her actions. Athanasia was like a wild mare, and it would be a balancing act to keep her spirit intact while also helping to better focus her attention. Selene had enjoyed her time with the girl and was going to suggest inviting the girl over for a meal with her sisters when a servant entered the room.

She hoped that her disappointment in the short, private moment wasn’t obvious. The eldest wasn’t quite ready to have to turn off the acquainted side of herself to maintain a more formal meal. Even if she didn’t wish her family to know how close she had grown to the prince, Selene didn’t want to embarrass her uncle with improper behavior. Even in Vang may have welcomed it, her uncle would have been displeased by it.

Setting her wine glass down, she adjusted her skirts as she stood. ”Of course. We will be along.” She dismissed the servant, wishing for just a few more moments alone.

Arm offered, Selene couldn’t help but blush at the simple gesture. While it was not expected of him to wish to formally escort her, she was happy to know that he wished to do so anyway. In Colchis, her arm had often been offered to him to allow him stability once he was well enough to walk (not that he ever took it). Now, it was simply because he wanted to do so. There was no hesitation as she slipped her arm through his, resting on top of his forearm. The bare skin was warm against hers, and she could have scolded herself for the way her thoughts could have gone. This close to him, the smell of the musky soap he’d used while bathing surrounded her senses. Mixed with the scent of oiled leather and pine, Selene found herself trying to memorize the way he smelled.

”I suppose I can indulge you in that.” She was teasing a bit, resting stepping in close to him so that their shoulders were touching. Selene gave a slightly exaggerated sigh, ”I pray that my uncle’s behavior doesn’t offend you, my lord.” She carefully, artfully, led the way from the study to the dining room in which they would eat. It was done with a practiced hand, a slight tightening of her grasp, a shift in her weight. Anyone looking at them would have no idea that she was the one guiding him. ”The best of hosts, I cannot for sure say that his questions may be forward.” Her uncle could rub people the wrong way, even though he meant well. She just hoped that he avoided any questions in regards to marriage status.

Those would be far too forward, far too presumptive.

Stopping just outside the door, Selene turned to him, her smile dazzling. ”I am truly glad you came, Vangelis. I have missed your companionship.” She allowed herself one last moment alone with him, one last dropped formality before she had to be the prim and proper woman her uncle and aunt expected him to be.

Vangelis of Kotas , Fotios of Leventi,

Vangelis was pleased when Selene took his arm and then surprised at how foreign the sensation was. The two of them had spent a small time in each other’s company, to be sure. There were hesitating moments of it when he had last visited Taengea, then a week in which they had spent many hours together talking, and then nothing until this evening. For the closeness they each clearly felt in their friendship, there had been little to no time in which they were in close physical proximity. Vangelis strongly suspected that their notions of kinship came from their letter writing and their conversations - less so which kingdom they each happened to be inhabiting when the words were written or said.

As such, when they actually broke through the wall of distance or propriety and physical contact occurred - such as now, as he escorted her down the corridor with arms linked, it was a perfectly natural thing to offer and an entirely strange thing to experience. With was bizarre in its contradiction.

But Vangelis was not a great thinker on such topics and simply dismissed the frisson that ran over the skin of his forearm as the natural response to such alien attentions between the two of them, and walked calmly with her towards the dining hall that was their destination.

As he was significantly taller than the Lady Leventi - a woman who was of a height just breeching the taller side of average, whilst he towered at an impressive height for a man - Vangelis was forced to adjust his steps a little, shortening his strides so as to keep pace with her as she led them to where her uncle was waiting for them. Such a change in step made the walk slower than natural for him but it wasn't unpleasant.

As they walked, Selene seemed almost to be speaking to herself, commenting on her uncle; that he was a good host and yet might be impertinent in his choices of query or on her own feelings about being glad for his attendance. He wondered, idly, if his quiet was making her uncomfortable to cause her to chatter in such a way.

It was as they reached the doors to the dining hall that Selene offered the final titbit of enjoying his companionship. A statement of such touching honesty that Vangelis didn't quite know what to do with it. People were honoured by his presence, thankful for his presence - even blessed by it some would say. But no-one had ever missed it or enjoyed it for what it was. The former reactions were that of a civilian to a prince. Selene's were of a more personal nature. One that he felt warm him a little from the inside out.

As if she were hoping her compliment of his company was enough to balance out her prophecy of her uncle's sharpness - listing one directly after the other - Vangelis reacted on pure instinct, seeking to calm her nerves and return her feelings of companionship...

He winked at her.

And before either of them could react to such a lightning quick, teasing gesture, Vangelis was pushing open the door to the dining chamber, escorting her through it as was proper, not a hint of the informal Vangelis about him.

Bowing as he escorted the woman through the door and then looking up to inspect the room around him, Vangelis found the dining hall to be very similar to that back home. Panelled in dark wood, polished to a high shine, with candle brackets around the walls and hanging from the ceiling, the entire room had a cosy and yet formal feel. Masculine and defiant. Which summed up the Kotas manor to a fine point.

There was only a single set of furniture in the room - that of a long table and chairs in the blackest of woods, and shinier than the silver utensils lining its surface. Down the centre of the table ran a trim of white cloth with gold place settings and silver cutlery placed either side before six place settings.

As the table was so large, the set-up had been arranged at one end, with Fotios at the head of the table, his wife to his left hand-side. The chair to his right was left markedly absence, as was that beside the lovely Lady Eirini. The two final chairs at the opposite end to their father, already had their patrons standing behind them - the Ladies Agape and Melina.

Clearly expected to take the seat to the right hand of the Head of the House, Vangelis saw no reason to argue as it was a place of honour within the mansion and stood behind his seat willingly, after escorting Lady Selene to the open spot beside the Lady Eirini.

Upon Fotios's indication that everyone be seated, Vangelis paused only long enough to remove his himation and one of the belts around his waist - the one that sported the sheath for his long-knife. While his other, hidden weapons, would not spoil the atmosphere of dinner, it was a simple fact that it was difficult to sit down when still wearing your blade at your hip. Plus, his mother had never allowed weapons at the dinner table.

Quick and efficient from years of practice, Vangelis removed and then refastened the belt, in order to hook it over one of the top pommels of the seat, before draping his himation over the leather scabbard and shining steel hilt. Dressed now in only his sleeveless, black chiton, the golden cuffs around his wrists, the leather bracelet around his upper arm, Vangelis felt a little exposed, used to linen shirts. It concerned him little however, along with any reactions to the angry looking laceration over his bicep - the one still healing from the cave in during the storm - and the mottled red pattern over his opposing shoulder - sparks and ash pieces that had given him tiny, minor burns over his skin during the fire. Such marks would vanish in time and Vangelis was always healing from one injury or another - he had stopping paying his appearance in such matters any heed long ago.

Upon being served a wine that his host assured him was of the highest calibre, Vangelis said nothing regarding his preference not to drink and simply waited, once more, for his host to sip before himself, before taking a dutiful mouthful of the sharp wine.

When the meal was ordered to be brought out, Vangelis was thankful that Lord Fotios was clearly familiar with dining with members of royalty - foreign or otherwise - as the servant who brought his plate, brought a small empty one for themselves. Vangelis reacted little as the young man took up a set of his own utensils - iron rather than silver - and cut away a small portion of each item on Vangelis plate, in view of him for confirmation. Transferring those pieces to the empty plate, the young man then took a step back with his miniscule version of Vangelis' meal and quickly ate everything there in a single swallow that couldn't be more than half a mouthful.

Lord Fotios continued adequate and passive conversation regarding Vangelis' journey - a topic that Vangelis contributed only enough to for it to continue - as if everyone in the room wasn't awkwardly waiting to see if the young boy a few steps behind Vangelis' chair to drop dead of poison.

The two men in the room gave no reaction to the true purpose of urbane conversation that was designed to delay the beginning of the meal without oddity, while Agape and Eirini seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes that Vangelis wasn't interested in dissecting. The Lady Melina, who sat beside him appeared to be intensely interested in the edge of her plate and towards Selene, Vangelis tried to keep his attention proper, rather than sending wistful glances her way like a co-conspirator.

When Vangelis had decided to wait long enough to see to any potential negative effects from his food, he picked up the first of his utensils and speared a piece of root vegetable, beginning the meal for everyone else and facilitating Lord Fotios in waving away the serving boy. The process would continue for each round of dishes, but Vangelis held no interest in the formality. It was a procedure that had been carried out at every meal he had ever engaged in outside of his family home. At this point, he barely noticed it.

Selene wouldn’t have minded the quiet moment between them. They had spent many silent moments together in Colchis, over the Mercenaries board. Where theory and conversation were swept to the side in favor of good competition. No, she had decided to fill the silence because they were things she felt like she needed to say. As much as she was wary of her uncle, she didn’t wish for him to leave a bad impression on the prince. Likewise, she didn’t want for Vangelis to feel offended by her uncle. No one liked to go into a situation like this unprepared, and she felt it was her duty to explain.

The confession that she had missed him had been a bit unlike her. She was always expected to be the example. She was the proper one, the one who would show everyone else around her what to be. Her actions in a room often the set tone, and would drive opinions of others who chose to act differently. For her to open up to him in this simple statement was highly rare. But it seemed that he had stopped being surprised by her actions, as different as they were from what he was used to.

So his wink, a bit out of character for him, caught her completely off guard. She didn’t even have a moment to blush about it before the doors were opened and she was brought into the room in front of her family. And perhaps that was for the best, as all eyes were on her. Blushing would have given away her feelings, or her surprise, and that was the last thing she wanted. She followed suit, still attached to his arm, but offering a curtsy in greeting to her uncle once again. There was no hesitation as she allowed him to seat her next to her aunt, watching as the prince took his own seat.

Selene hadn’t thought much of the taster, hadn’t really judge the action as anything more than proper for a crowned prince to do. She remembered it from the few meals she’d had with Zacharias. He had quietly told it that it wasn’t about not trusting the host, but it was about security for your own person. You couldn’t take a chance when the throne was on the line. She did as was proper, instead trying to input herself into the conversation with her cousins. Instead, she allowed herself to steal a glance at Vangelis, a soft smile on her face as they waited. Her attention was quickly back to the girls, not wishing to give anything away.

As it became apparent that no poison was in the food, the meal was begun. There was very little she could say in the conversation as Fotios and Vangelis made small talk. It was not her place to interfere on a conversation she was not apart of, nor did she wish to. Her uncle had made it clear that she was to show her abilities off, and it was just as important to know when to speak as to when not to. Trying to focus on a conversation with her aunt, however, was not going well. She tried to speak of the wedding, or of the baby, but there was not much to add on the top. As much as she wished to dots upon her siblings, she knew it was just a distraction until she could be pulled into the conversation once again with Vang.

Her cousins looked over at her, their amusement in her obvious lack of interest apparent. What she wouldn’t give to kick one of them under the table...

Fotios' general cordiality as host lasted for the first course of the meal, in which Vangelis kept his attention on his plate, or on his host's face rather than delve into the conversation happening amongst the ladies. He found himself slightly uncomfortably with how quiet the Lady Melina and Agape were. Selene said nothing either but there seemed a difference between the two. Selene was quiet while Melina and Agape was sombre. As if they were not permitted to join in the conversation.

When the second course arrived and there was a natural pause in the conversation, Vangelis spoke out. It was unnatural for him to deliberately attempt to form a conversation but it was making the hairs on the back of his neck rise that the two youngest at the table seemed wary of him - or perhaps the situation.

"Do you ride, Lady Agape?" He asked as a plate of lamb leg was placed before him. He smelt the rosemary and the specific spices that Colchis was famed for and realised the kitchens had prepared a dish from his homeland in deference to him as their guest. He nodded his thanks to Fotios, who returned with a small smile. "I understand Leventi horses are the most superior in Greece... and that Leventi daughters equally impressive riders." His glance shifted slightly to Selene but flickered almost immediately back to the girl beside her.

Agape raised her chin at the question and offered a smile as if she couldn't help herself.

"I've been known to ride well, your Highness." She told him, eyes alight. There was a moment where she lost his eye contact as she spotted a look directed at her from Eirini. The light seemed to dim. "But I am not as good a rider as my cousin, Selene." She finished with a tone much flatter than she had begun the conversation.

Ah. Vangelis thought. So, that was why the girls were being silent. Ne'er the spotlight be taken from the eldest, unmarried girl. Somehow, this thought crossed Vangelis' understanding without the concept of Selene's marital status or the changing thereof taking hold. It was simply a fact to him that women of the nobility often tried not to show off their greatest assets when there was an older, still unmarried relative in the room.

Distracted by an ugly scraping sound of utensil on plate that had the hair of his arm rise to attention, Vangelis glanced to his right to notice that Lady Melina was struggling to remove meat from bone. Vangelis wondered if Taengeans never ate meat directly in such a way, as she was using her implements all wrong the desired effect and would risk sending the sauce down her front in a moment if not careful.

Without much thought, Vangelis simply reacted as he would to his sister. He coughed slightly, shifted in his seat in a way that had him naturally bump his elbow slightly into his neighbours and then turned his attention entirely on Lord Fotios, as if the gesture had never happened.

"I ask about riding simply because my sister would, I'm sure, greatly benefit from learning such skills from your House, Lord Fotios." He commented as he very deliberately arranged his utensils. One placed over the bone and the other spearing into the meet at a particular indent in the muscle. With a twist of the second implement the meat came away from the bone easily, revealing how well it had been cooked and prepared. He never looked at Melina, nor drew attention to what he was doing. "I would perhaps ask your permission that the Ladies join my sister and I on a ride during our visit to your kingdom." He finished before taking the meat he had cut and placing it into his mouth.

Fotios spent the first part of the conversation performing his duties as host appropriately. He spent the next course watching what was happening around the table with great care. His eyes narrowed as he noticed the Prince do the same. There was rumour and reputation regarding the Crown Prince of Colchis that said he was blunt, unobservant and altogether unrefined in the finer ways of etiquette. He had been concerned, upon hearing such thoughts that his niece would be unimpressed by a barbarous man and had hoped that such a wayward nobleman might be considered a project for her feminine heart.

But that was not the man who had come to dine at his table.

The Prince of Colchis was, Fotios was noticing highly observant and insightful if the narrowing of his eyes an the flicks of his gaze were anything to do by. He simply wasn't engaging with the conversation or with particular elements of the dinner because he seemed to care nothing for them; as if they held no effect to him and he would have no consideration for them until they did.

It was the exactly opposite of Fotios' way of thinking, in which everything was able to be within his control if he listened, paid attention and played his part well enough. That was how he liked things. Vangelis of Kotas seemed perfectly content in letting the world go by, his only influence in it that which he chose.

It was irritating to say the least.

When the prince asked for the appropriate permission for Fotios to allow the young girls to attend him - an unmarried man alone, Fotios hedged his bets and responded in a manner he was sure the prince was expecting.

"I see no reason why not." He told him. "I'm sure the Lady Agape will be busy with the arrangements for her cousin's wedding, but I believe Lady Selene could be made available. Provided her lady escorts her I see no reason why she couldn't spend an afternoon with your sister and your own company, your Highness. Here on the Leventi estate, of course."

The prince's eyes seemed to flash, telling Fotios that yes, he was indeed right. This man missed nothing.

"Of course." was the Colchians only reply, before Fotios noted a glance between him and the eldest Leventi girl.

Hmm... Fotios considered. This might be more of a done deal than I had hoped for...

There had been a time where Selene wouldn’t have thought about how her cousins were being treated at a meal like this. As the eldest, it was common for her to be the focus. Once she was married, they would have their days. It had always been that way, especially when a royal was dining with them. But now, sitting with them, she felt more compassion for the situation. While they may not have been as interested in him as she was, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t enjoy the conversation, too.

But by the look on her aunt’s face, it was clear that she was not to argue about it.

There was never a shortage of conversation about horses among the family. And every time, each of the girls seemed to brighten with the topic. Not only were they stupendous riders, but they were all very knowledgeable about the breeding and horseflesh. Questions regarding horses were always lively, no matter who was asking. But as the focus was shifted back to her, what once would have made her glow with a chance to brag made sobered her a bit. Selene smiled to her cousin, ”She is most modest, of course. Agape is an accomplished rider, and I am certain she would be as good as I am if she was in the country more. The city lacks the difficult and open terrain that we have at home.”

While Selene had been familiar with the tools from her time in Colchis, it was easy to see that Melina was struggling. And yet, much as the family had done for her, Vangelis wordlessly showed the girl how to use the utensils without making her feel silly for it. As difficult and war-hardened as the Prince as he was also considerate. It may not have been in a way that others were used to, but she couldn’t help but make note of it. And appreciate it.

An invitation to ride with Vangelis had been highly expected. They had spoken of it several times back in Colchis, of a chance for her to show him just how well she rode, to show off the fine Leventi horses and perhaps for her to see how well he rode as well. Her uncle’s reply made it clear that she was the only one to ride with the Prince and Princess, and the look from Vang made her cheeks gently flush. Her smile may have seemed a bit forced, but only because she didn’t want to make her cousins feel as if they were unimportant. ”Of course Uncle. The Princess and I had the chance to ride while in Colchis. She was quite anxious to get comfortable on the filly you sent.”

His attention focused back on Vangelis, ”I hope she continued to ride her once I left?” The question was a safe one, one that she would know the answer to. While Athanasia hadn’t been as confident with her riding initially, by the time Selene had left, she could at least start to trot without feeling like she was going to be injured. ”I have missed her company since leaving.”

Selene had missed more than just her sister. She had cared about his whole family, and in the two weeks she had spent with his family, she had found herself comfortable with them. Even with the differences in the cultural upbringing, the fondness she felt with them was only more apparent now that she was reunited with Vangelis himself. ”The Prince’s schedule during my stay did not leave any time for he and I to ride. I am looking forward to a chance to demonstrate that ability you have heard so much about.” Her smile was genuinely excited for the chance. ”As long as you’ll have time while you are here, of course.”