The ride with the Colchian visitors was supposed to be a relaxing and enjoyable time out. But it had been impossible to ignore the feeling of tension that had fallen over the group as they rode back to the Leventi estate. And the funny thing about it was that it hadn’t been just her and Vangelis that it seemed to fall across. No, both girls seemed to have gotten into it and were on edge as well. By the time they returned home, the warmth she had expected in their goodbyes was all but absent.
Her uncle hadn’t seemed pleased with her that she hadn’t been able to end things on better terms.
Selene wanted to do nothing more than to run back home to the safety of her island, where things weren’t confusing. Where she wasn’t unsure of her own place in the city. She wanted to be home, to sit in the stables and be among the animals who never confused her. She wanted to sit in the comfort of her father’s study, to quietly reflect on their days together without any tension.
She wanted to be in a place where she knew where she stood.
In the city, she had no idea what her place was. Was she the sister of the Queen, needing to stay with her as she patiently waited for the baby to come? Was she preparing for a royal wedding for her sister and Achilleas, needing to be prepared at home for the event? She felt torn and divided and it made her so mad that while she felt more confident in herself, she was far more confused as to her role in life. Divided, frustrated and mad at the lack of certainty.
There was a new frustration she had never experienced before, one that she didn’t even understand the feeling behind it. She had been a bit frustrated with Zacharias when she had assumed that he was going to propose to her. All she had wanted was the certainty of marriage and the security behind it. The Leventi was bred to be a queen, and damn it she couldn’t see why he was waiting to do it. But then he was murdered, and she had to wonder if the Gods had protected her from that fate as well.
With Vangelis, she hadn’t been searching for anything from him. Even though he was a prince, that hadn’t had anything to do with their initial connection. They had created a friendship that had been the foundation of their relationship. And at the time, she had been sure that she hadn’t wanted to end up with a royal. With the events of the Circus, there was no safety in it like she had expected. She took him as he was, as if there was no title for her to try and secure. He wasn’t a prize for her to win, like Zacharias had been. She just enjoyed being with him.
He pushed her to be more, and challenged her to strive to be deeper than just a pretty face. And she liked to think that she challenged him to be a bit more relaxed as they got to know each other. And from that, they seemed to form a mutual respect for each other. There was a friendship and a trust between the two of them. And she enjoyed it.
But with their past few interactions, she had been sure that there was something more developing, something she had never experienced before. And perhaps it was all in her head, because it was a frustration she had never felt, not even with Zacharias. It felt deeper, rising from her core and spreading through her veins. There were moments when he would hold her gaze, and she was sure that he was looking at her in a way he’d never done so before. His touches felt like more.
And after the ride, everything had felt… more. There was no other way for her to describe it. And as she sat in front of her vanity, days later, she still was certain that there had been more. Perhaps she had imagined it, and she was letting her mind wander into a fantasy that wasn’t really there? Was she reading more into it? Or was she letting her family, who would love nothing more than to see her in a secure marriage to the heir of Colchis throne, influence her mind more than she should?
Was she going crazy?
She had been playing everything back in her head. It was something she had never done before, had never analyzed and overanalyzed things until she was close to madness. But she found herself growing both more frustrated and more aggravated the longer it went on. She was not a woman who allowed men to fully consume her thoughts, and yet, she had a difficult time thinking about anything else.
She had started a dozen letters to send to the Dimitrous home, but each had ended up in the fires. There had been no way that she could have accurately put her thoughts onto paper without seeming like an absolute fool. And each one sounded more and more insane as she went. There was no way that she could send a letter and expect it to be a clear communication of her thoughts and confusion. And who was she to write anything like that anyway? It would have been improper of her to even put her thought to parchment, regardless of the friendship they had developed over the past few months.
When one of the servants brought a necklace that had been forgotten by the princess, Selene knew that anyone could deliver it to her, that there was no reason that she needed to concern herself with its return.
But as 2 more days past, she found herself unable to stop as she dressed again in a split skirt riding chiton, this time in a rich hunter green. Her blonde hair was loosely curled, pinned back a bit but not to the point of an expected journey to the Dimitrous property. She hadn’t been invited, hadn’t a reason for the ride across the country to the manor. And yet, she found herself with her guard first thing in the morning riding that way. She had turned around twice, tried to convince herself that she was insane to go and yet she felt crazy not to go.
Why was she doing this?
Trying to empty her mind, every attempt to try failed. Her mind went in hundred of different directions, all of which gave her no reason to be heading towards the mansion. It was a necklace, a simple piece that anyone could have done. A courier could have carried it. And yet, tucked safely into the pocket of her dress, she found herself glad for the excuse to go to the property.
Perhaps she would be able to put her mind at ease, she could see if there was really any sign of what had been plaguing her mind for days. She would have the courage to ask him outright if there was anything more than just friendship between the two.
An hour later, all courage was lost-- she would simply hand the necklace over and be on her way.
Back and forth she went, and by the time she was actually on Dimitrous land, she wasn’t exactly sure what her plan was. More frustrated and aggravated than before, she felt ready to throw the stupid necklace across the fence and just head home. It was absolutely crazy for her to have come this far just to drop off a necklace in hopes that she may get to speak with Vangelis. It was borderline inappropriate for her to even be here.
And yet, she didn’t know what else to do. Already here, there was no turning back. And having arrived early enough in the morning, riding back home would be no difficulty here. Perhaps she would find a resolution, and would be able to return to the city more focused on her family and less on her own struggles.
Neither aware nor sharing in the trauma that currently plagued a woman he knew, Vangelis was preoccupied and focused on his new lodgings with the Dimitrou family. As it turned out, upon their arrival to Meganea, chaos had descended upon the house in the form of the Queen of Athenia taking refuge from the political upheaval in her home kingdom. With no-one wishing to speak of the event though none of them being able to deny it as Vangelis had met Persephone on more than one occasion and knew her by sight, any serious talk or advocation of conversation had fallen into awkward quiet. The girls had taken themselves into their own company as Asia, Dorothea and Imeeya seemed to find a simple and easy friendship that women appeared to fall into with ease. The Lord Dorotheos was temporarily away from the manor that day seeing to business around the province and Lord Gavriil and Lord Iason appeared in deep conversation regarding private matters, most liked the impending nuptials of the latter who had just had his engaged partner fall from Queen to destitute.
All in all, the visit had left Vangelis mostly with the company of himself or with Nike when he wasn't sending her to watch over his sister. Neither of these things: the company of his second, or is own, were in any way trying for him but they were - to a certain extent - boring and without purpose.
And Vangelis was not a man who enjoyed being without a purpose.
A workaholic by nature and a perfectionist in instinct, Vangelis always had something upon his busy schedule to do. Be they the tasks of a crown prince, a baron or a General. And whilst those tasks were still on-going there was only so much that could be sent via bird to be completely whilst abroad which meant, while he was holed up in Taengea as guardian and protector to his sister, paperwork and responsibilities were piling up for him back in Colchis.
It was a frustrating situation to be sure.
And in order to set his mind away from such things and turn it to be more effectively focused, Vangelis had excused himself after lunch, allowing Gavriil to speak with the King in private and Iason to return to his woman and instead made a use of himself outside.
Initially, Vangelis had chosen a particular tree and sacrificed it to a sparring session. Whilst the tree put up little defence it was good to work his muscles into family routines and patterns, pushing hard and faster to strengthen their force with every strike. After an hour or so, he had switched to routine drills and the exercises he put his men through every day. Having always followed his unit with whatever training he wanted of them, and doubling it upon himself, Vangelis completed those quickly also.
Had the sun not been exceptionally hot that day, causing his to sweat through and to suffer in his breathing, the work out would have been little to useless. But as it was the peak of summer, he had at least been able to work his body harder than it might have felt in cooler temperatures.
Reaching up and over his head, Vangelis pulled his shirt from where he had tucked it into his riding pants that morning and hauled it up and over his head. His hair was sent in different directions and he wiped his face and chest with the garment before throwing it to one side, into a pool of shade cast by the yard cabin that was kept on the outskirts of the Dimitrou property.
It was here that Vangelis had chosen to work. Out near the main gates and far from the prying eyes of the other residents on the Dimitrou land. The open space with fresh and green and encased on several sides by dense forestry. The only thing to be heard was the noises of animals in the tree tops and bracken and the odd noise from the stables a hundred yards down the pathway.
It was quiet and peaceful.
But it still wasn't the distraction he was looking for.
Considering for a moment going to seek our Nike and find her claymore with which to practice - for that would surely offer him a harder workout than he had so far put is body through, his eyes caught on a large pile of trunks - tree trunks, slim and felled into long shapes ready to be broken down further for use in the manor - for hearths or ovens. An axe stood helpfully propped against the side of the cabin - a cabin full of just such broken down chunks of wood. And open stump was located just a few feet into the open grassy space.
With a slow exhale and a half shrug of open consideration Vangelis stepped forward and immediately took hold of the shaft of the axe. His hands were large and his muscles strong which meant the weight of the tool was of little consequence.
There was no need for him to complete the task of a menial labourer - the cabin was clearly stocked full for the next few weeks. But he had been told that, as a guest, he was welcome to make use of what he wished and a little physical exertion was turning out to be hard to come by. At least in exercising himself in this manner he would be of some use and help to his hosts.
And so, it came to be that the crown prince of Colchis was chopping wood in the Dimitrou lands.
Initially, Vangelis worked with logic and his own experience of the weapon. His first few slices through the trunks were a little inaccurate angle wise and the pieces not the same length, but he got the practice of it quickly enough. The same could be said for the force with which to hit the wood, his first tentative tests leaving the axe blade cemented half way through instead of slicing it entirely clean.
But once Vangelis had the process under control and the practice behind him, he actually found the task therapeutic. The careful positioning of the wood, the lift, hand change and then swing of the axe. The resounding thud of the blade hitting the stump and the rough peel of the wood splitting down the centre. He then picked up the pieces, threw them to one side into a make shift pile and repeated the process all over again.
Three hours later and Vangelis was hotter than before, his muscles were starting to actually burn and his breathing had become, if not laboured, then at least heavy with exertion. The small pile of broken wood had now become a large heap and he was beginning work on the last of the trunk pieces when he paused to assess the sound of approaching hooves.
Looking up, his face became a confused scowl as he noted his friend, the eldest daughter of the Leventi clan to be riding down the main path of the estate towards the Dimitrou manor. She made no glance in his direction but then why would she; she was clearly on business that took her to the manor house and, from his distance away from the path he likely appeared as a servant or stable hand.
Eager to see her and speak with her again, Vangelis turned his attention back to the last few blocks that were still to be split and decided that he would finish the task he had set himself, and then head back to the house in order to speak with the Lady Selene before she left.
Setting up his next piece, his intentions now set, Vangelis lifted, swung and drew the axe down with an almighty thud that sent nearby birds twittering with fright...
She had been so focused on her plan to just make it to the manor and leave that she almost missed the sound of metal on wood. Selene hadn’t been sure what her plan was when she got to the house, and she certainly had worked out exactly what she planned to say if she happened to see Vangelis while she was here. It was as she was silently working out what she planned on saying when she noticed the birds scattered around her with a loud ‘thwack’.
Pulled Ophelia to pause, her eyes quickly found the source of the noise— someone making quick work of a stump with an axe. Normally, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it, would have continued on to the house to go about her business. But she lifted her hand to block the sun, and tried to focus on the figure.
If she hadn’t spent as much time with him as she had, Selene may not have known it was him at first glance. But she knew the certainty of his stance, knew the way he held his shoulders. There was really no reason for her to converse with him before heading to the house. If she did, she knew she would forget the very reason she came, necklace still in the pocket of her dress.
But Ophelia seemed to have a different feeling about the situation, turning her head towards the man (or perhaps just towards the stables), to go in that direction. Selene’s head knew that it was a bad decision, that she should have first delivered her task then spoke to Vang. And yet, her heart was the one who was guiding her actions. Because as frustrated as she was at seeing him, there felt like a lightness in his presences.
She was an idiot.
As they made their way over to him, Selene’s cheeks flushed, quickly realizing that he was completely shirtless. And it wasn’t that she hadn’t seen him like this before. It was that the last time, he had been healing and weak, so there had been no reason to focus on his state of dress. Now, with each swing of the axe, it was apparent that he had fully recovered from the incident.
His back was to her, and she was glad for it; she was certain that she was staring.
Had his arms always been that… strong?
Before she knew it, she found herself within speaking distance. And then, without much effort, she found herself to the left of the large pile of wood.
Vangelis was trained to notice his surroundings. He had honed his senses and his observation skills for many years - a skill that had kept him alive on both battlefield and the dance of the courts (one in which he was far more talented than the other). Ergo, he was no unfamiliar of Selene's approach, as he continued to break the pieces of tree trunk against the open stump. Despite the lands having shifted from the mud of the storm to the soft earth after a few days of baking heat, the hooves of the horse she rode were easy enough to pick up. What was less easy to notice, was the steps she made once she had dismounted and approached him from his blind spot. Elegant courtier ladies who had been taught in ways of grace and poise were hardly as noisy or noticeable as a man in full armour. Even an assassin with a soft step was easier to spot than the gentle pace of a woman.
As such, when Vangelis turned around, axe hanging loose in one hand and the pieces of firewood he had just chopped in the other, he had already raised an arm to toss the smaller pieces into the pile to behind him. A pile far too close to the Lady Selene for his natural liking. His male instincts picking up at the last minute, Vangelis scrambled to grab the wooden blocks he had just loosed and, dropping the axe was able to secure them with an unskilled fumble, latching into them with his fingertips, before he risked them bouncing off the pile and - say - landing on Selene's slippered feet.
With a dull thud, the blade of the axe hit the ground and Vangelis looked down to notice the metal edge had sliced through the very edge of the leather of his boot. There was no pain which meant only the shoe was the casualty but still...
That was close. He thought to himself, before dropping the pieces of wood more carefully onto the wood pile - the opposing side to which Selene stood and then took up the weapon again.
"My Lady..." He offered with a soft nod and dip of his shoulders, before turning and throwing a little weight into his swing and securing the blade into the stump where it could do no further harm. He turned back to Selene, clearly looking about for a moment in search of the shirt he had discarded but he had thrown it over by the cabin. On his person he had only his pants, riding low on his hips, his boots and his leather bracers strapped about his forearms. He would ask for forgiveness for his attire but it was she that had stumbled upon him, not to mention the fact that she had witnessed him in only a bedsheet before. To apologise now seemed fairly superfluous.
Dusting off his palms on the back and sides of his pants, Vangelis appeared a little uncomfortable and cast around for some kind of greeting that seemed applicable.
"It's nice to see you." He offered, before glancing to the main gates of the estate. His brow dropped low into a scowl. "You rode here alone?" He wasn't always safe for a woman of her obvious standing to travel without aid, and he had no knowledge that her man was waiting at the gate for her return...
She hadn’t meant to sneak up on him, past experience showing her that he seemed to always be aware of his surroundings, to the point of hyper awareness. She supposed it came from his years in in the military, fighting and needing to stay alive for anything to matter. But sandals in the soft mud did muffle her approach as she dismounted. She was glad that he was at least aware of her approach, but was a little shocked at the way her appearance seemed to have caught him off guard. Looking down at her ensemble first to make she wasn’t missing something with her outfit, Selene brushed the gown downwards and lifted her head.
Just in time to see the axe almost remove his toes.
She gasped softly, but was relieved when he seemed to be just fine, save for the large slice through his boots. Her hands folded demurely in front of her as she waiting for him to finish his task.
Suddenly, she wasn’t in any hurry.
It was kind of nice to be able to take him in fully without feeling like she wasn’t allowed to. She allowed herself a moment to take in the obvious strength in his back and arms. There hadn’t been a chance before now for her to notice just how strong he was. And while she had seen plenty of shirtless men back home when working with the horses, none of them had the tone or definition that he did. She wanted to reach out, to see just how firm they were under her fingers.
Would she mind the sweat?
She hoped she didn’t appear to forward, and was glad when he seemed not to mind her sudden appearance. ”Prince Vangelis.” Her lips curled into a smile at the formality of his greeting. He was shirtless— was the ‘my lady’ really needed at that point. Taking in his concern for her lone appearance, she looked back over her shoulder, forgetting that she had ridden the journey with her guard. Her mind has been so occupied in traveling that she had all but forgotten he was there. Guilt washed over her as she realized she must have been a horrible companion. Most of the time, she and her guard conversed openly, making the time go much faster.
Poor man must have been bored out of his mind with her silence.
”My uncle insisted I bring my guard, of course. Even with the Creed mostly defeated, he did not wish to draw the wrath of my father.” Georgios was notoriously protective of his daughters. ”He thought he would wait outside the gates until I finished my business.” Seeing him as half dressed as she had, she wished she had thought to throw a cloak on her shoulders, to add a layer of propriety to the situation.
Or maybe to add a layer of false protection.
”Is it? I know it is a bit unannounced. But it is nice to see you so fit. I mean well.” She wanted to bring her hands to her face, to hide her sudden embarrassment at her slip of the tongue.
Vangelis' features, whilst often fixed in a position of concentration or focus - enough so to make most people uncomfortable in his presence - had lowered into a scowl of thought as Selene gave the impression of being uncomfortable in his presence. It was clear to him that she hadn't expected to meet him on the way to the Dimitrou manor and that perhaps - in the friendly manner she was naturally inclined towards - she had simply breached the grasslands of the estate in order to pay dividends to their friendship. Only to then have nothing to say. Which was sweet, but unnecessary.
When the woman offered him a formal greeting in response to his own, Vangelis' lips quirked into that customary half smile at the subtlest of jibes and let it fall away as he watched her seeming to try and make sense of a conversation topic. Her discomfort was subtle and something that Vangelis was unlikely to pick up on with anyone else. Nor likely that anyone else would be astute enough to notice with her. The only reason that the crown prince even noticed something to be amiss was the fact that Selene seemed surprised when he mentioned her lack of guard. Which meant she hadn't been paying attention to where he was. In all the months he had known Selene, he had never known her to be ignorant of the people around her; she was too socially skilled and openly friendly to allow such a thing to happen. Which meant something had to be playing on her mind.
Likely, whatever it was she had been sent to discuss at the estate.
And his presence was holding up her plans.
When the woman confirmed that she hadn't ridden the entire distance alone - simply the hundred yards or so down the estate's private lane, Vangelis nodded in a firm gesture that was simply his way.
"Good." He stated with an equally hard tone. He gave no further comment as he was neither her father, uncle nor brother and had no rights upon telling her how to handle her own, personal safety, but he at least could make it clear that he approved of the precautions her uncle had taken and that she hadn't journeyed all the way from the capitol without a suitable guard in place.
The slip of the tongue that the lady offered wasn't one that Vangelis particularly noticed. To him, "fit" and "well" were near enough synonyms for he operated in a world of the military where one was not "well" unless they were also "fit" for duty. Ergo, he noticed her awkwardness but not the reasons for it.
Reaching out, Vangelis touched the very tips of his fingers to the lady's elbow as if to reassure her of the honesty of his next words.
"You have no need of entertaining me, Selene." He told her with his soft, half smile. He glanced down towards her final destination beyond a curve in the road, currently masking the manor from view. "Please see to your business with the Dimitrous." He told her, letting the brushing touch to her arm fall back. He spoke his next words with a soft shake of his head. "Your company is always pleasing but your friendship with me requires no social duties." He waved towards the Dimitrou manor, with a smile, indicating she was perfectly free to go and owed him nothing of her sense of social responsibility. "Perhaps we shall talk later."
And with that, he offered her a polite and shallow bow, as was his custom to her and then turned to reach our a bracer-clad forearm towards the hilt of the axe, intent on wrenching it from the stump and setting it and the results of his handy work inside the cabin before any more rain could damage the wood grain...
While he didn’t seem fazed by her slip of the tongue, she was absolutely mortified by it. It was certainly not proper to make any mention of his physique like that, to use a term like fit felt like an insinuation that she not only had noticed the muscles, but that she found them appealing. And she wasn’t in a place where she has that right.
Was she?
She almost commented further, almost tried to back track on her words so that any possible offense would have been cleared up. But he didn’t seem to mind it, and certainly moved on quickly from it. Perhaps he did notice it, and just wished to ignore it for her sake so that there wouldn’t be any awkwardness for her. Either way, a part of her was relieved that she didn’t need to say anything more.
As he gently gripped her elbow, she couldn’t ignore this little gesture. She had seen him with enough other people to know that he wasn’t someone reached into personal space without it meaning something, that they mattered to him. There was a softness in the touch and she tried not to feel like it was more than just a friendly gesture. It felt like so much more.
Like he needed to touch her because she was there.
But then, he was telling her that she had no obligation to him as a friend to try and entertain him, that she should finish her business with the Dimitrous and that perhaps they would talk later. She tried not to be offended or feel like he was pushing her off, holding her there for the moment. As if she had only come to him to exchange pleasantries instead of genuinely wishing to talk to him. As soon as he turned around, she frowned.
That was all he wished to say?
It angered her a bit, and perhaps it was because she had been wrestling with her own emotions as to their relationship. She was confused about just what she wanted from him, because the idea of marriage to a prince had been her life. But the circus had made it so much less of a desire. And then he was there, and was genuine in his actions. And as things moved from friendship, it felt like more. She felt like there was more there than just the line of friendship. Could she even tell the difference anymore?
And just like that, she reached out, grasping his hand firmly to stop him from leaving and turning around. ”Is that why you think I came over here? To do my duty as a friend in greeting you?” She was a little shocked at her own, frustrated tone. And even more surprised that she was able to pull him back before he continued on his way. ”Is that really what you think that I feel I must do? To greet the prince because it is right?” She found herself moving closer and closer to him, hoping for some sort of reaction that was more than just formalities. ”I have been driving myself insane attempting to talk some reason into myself. But I only confuse myself more.”
As she stepped closer, there was a bit of challenging in her gaze. This was the closest she had been to him, her neck craning up to meet his eyes. If he was saying anything, she wasn’t sure that she had registered it at all. Staring at his mouth, Selene couldn’t ignore the heedy smell of sweat and dirt on his skin. There was a certainty in her gaze, like she didn’t want to wonder what was there anymore.
But she couldn’t form the words. Not with him so close, not with her so frustrated the way he seemed to ignore how right it felt to be with him. She certainly missed him when he was gone, longed to know how he was doing when they were aware. And she thought that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.
So instead of thinking, she threw an arm around his neck and pulled him down towards her, her lips firmly against his, not caring about the damp hair that pressed to her forearm. Not thinking about what he would think. No, instead she was completely and utterly enamored by the smell and feel of him pulled against her.
When Selene's slender touch reached out to pull at his arm, Vangelis moved instinctively to allow the guidance. It was unlikely a woman of her waif-like size would have been able to move him had not wished to, but having no realisation of her anger until he was facing her, Vangelis had no desire to refrain from turning as her hand encouraged.
Her hand looked particularly pale and small over his tan skin, he noticed.
But he was instantly distracted by the clear feminine anger that awaited him. What in the Gods name had he said, now?
As Selene verbalised her frustrations, Vangelis recognised where he had gone wrong. In suggesting she continue to the Dimitrou house he had diminished their friendship by suggesting that he was but a duty to her. That hadn't been his intention and he opened his mouth to assure her of that but she didn't let him get that far. He blinked and held his tongue. Any man raised by Yanni of Kotas knew better than to interrupt a woman when she was in full flow.
But by the time Selene's fit of pique was no longer flowing from her mouth - and Vangelis had the chance to quickly correct the confusion - he was thrown entirely for a loop by her anger somehow translating into a kiss.
And Vangelis never saw it coming...
Far from a stupid man, it did not hold true that the crown prince of Colchis could not at least be considered obtuse. A man used to efficiency, procedure and practice was a man who compartmentalised his life. His mind, his workload, his attention to his own physique and level of fitness. Everything was an exercise in efficiency and appropriate protocols. He was fit for duty the way that he was because he proportioned his days appropriately, he assigned time to his practising and weapon wielding. He made a deliberate choice and effort to double his own practices on top of his soldiers. For, to be a leader, you had to be the best. His work as a baron came next, with a carefully appointed and highly trusted steward handling the day to day issues and a finely tuned practice and process of authorisation and paperwork following his returns to the Colchian shoreline to ensure the work was completed on time. His responsibilities as a crown prince were less active tasks and more his own demeanour and bearing - characteristics that were naturally appropriate as being stoic and calm when he was forced to be just so by his military carrier.
In short, it had never struck Vangelis as odd that those around him considered him... boring. Dull. Unimaginative and rock-like.
But he had never sort to be something else. Vangelis was neither a jealous nor an ambitious man in the sense of having a desire to be looked upon with awe. He had never sought excessive social skill; to be a man with more friends than he could count. Nor had he sought great female attention or copious riches or anything else that a healthy male of his world would otherwise covet. Instead, he was focused on being that efficient general; the compartmentalising prince. The man who lived up to each of his roles: militant, baron, royal. And did so with effectiveness and honour.
It had left him severely out of practice when it came to recognising long-term developments or issues. Vangelis had a fixer-like attitude. And issue was raised, he assessed, he calculated, he fixed, he moved on. Socialising was a long-term development that worked entirely differently and while he had been mentally viewing his interactions with the Lady Selene on a case by case basis, he had been entirely missing the long-term goals or expectations she might have had of him.
Had he had the time to think it through logically, Vangelis would have realised his mistake instantly. He was a man of a certain age who was unmarried and she was a woman who was likewise. They were both of profitable and appropriate families and they were both expected, by said families, to marry someone of their own kind. They were, on paper, a fantastic match for marriage. Vangelis knew this because it was clearly what Fotios of Leventi wanted; given the dinner they had shared at the Leventi manor, and what Zanon had hoped for months ago in Athenia when he had pushed the two of them together during his period of recovery.
But Vangelis had never paid any of this any heed because he had never noticed or been outright told by Selene herself that such a thing was in her desires. She spoke of her sisters' marrying and producing children. Of how marriage was what was expected of her, rather than what she wanted. Vangelis knew everything about expectation and had never paid any heed to the notion that the two concepts had to be mutually inclusive.
Selene had been grace, poise and a perfect proprietary lady. And a friend. Which was rare for Vangelis when it came to the opposite gender. For they had always assumed that for him to pay them any mind or even share a conversation with them he had to be envisioning them as Queen of Colchis. It had been a repertoire that bored easily and Vangelis had stopped hoping for a personal connection with a woman that didn't hold such expectations.
He had thought he had found that with Selene.
Such ignorance and surprise led to an instinctive reaction from Vangelis when his female friend reached up, knotted her hands behind his neck and pulled him down to claim his mouth with hers. His eyes widening, his stance freezing and his arms braced outwards to maintain his balance, Vangelis could do little but allow his mind to catalogue his senses in a state of shock...
His nose was immediate assaulted by the scent of lavender and rose, the softness of her gown and skin felt hot against his chest and neck (both so soft against his dirty physique that he couldn't tell where silk ended and naked skin began), and his mouth was taken ownership of by a set of lips still more so that moved with an untutored eagerness against him that his mouth respond just a little in order to offer them a softer landing than simply bashing his mouth against his own teeth. Vangelis would have shut his eyes, as was natural, if he wasn't distracted by the soft fluttering of blonde eyelashes that were now the only thing he could see.
Vangelis was utterly unsure what to do - for his mind had already fractured into three. The smallest part of a sense of disappointment. The friend he had found in Selene; the one who expected nothing in terms of political unions flickered a little; the image of her in his mind feeling tainted by the idea that she had been after something from him for the duration of their friendship. Not that he thought her to be deliberately calculating - it was not in her nature - but the thought that she had been subconsciously wanting something from him that he had not been providing made him feel shame and disappointment. A slightly larger section of his mind - the part most male - was not very aware of the fact that he now had an insanely beautiful woman throwing herself at him. That part of his mind was having no difficulties working out exactly which physical responses were appropriate for such a moment. Neither mindset was able to take control of his actions, however, as the third and largest part of his mind was one of abject shock.
How had they gotten from Selene feeling insulted at his word choice to her kissing him in the space of a moment?
Having no idea what to do, Vangelis' hands were awkward as they moved to find a place on Selene's upper arms. Whether to push her away, draw her closer or just hold her still so that she couldn't surprise him with something else, Vangelis wasn't entirely sure because he wasn't given the chance to find out as, about two heartbeats after she had launched herself forward, Selene was pulling away...
Selene’s mind had been running in circles the majority of the week, trying to decide exactly what she was feeling. She tried to chalk it up to rarely having male specific friends, where the playful expectations were just that— to be friends and nothing more. But those friends were easy to differentiate simply because she had always made it clear that she was better than them. All her life, she had been told that she was only worthy of a prince or king. And she took it to heart all throughout her teenage years. Her ego was only kept in check by the absolute desire to be fully present for her family.
To be a good example for her sisters. To put their needs before her own.
Zacharias seemed to put up with her because she was the expectation of a wife for him. She was well educated, socially refined and beautiful. While they had always had a superficial friendship, she had always hoped that would change once they were married. She never saw any signs that he wouldn’t choose her, because everyone else was just not right to be Queen at this side. There was no competition— she was to be Queen. And had always been told by those she respected that it was her place.
And then the Circus happened, and she had to reevaluate her life and its meaning. No longer able to own the idea of being Queen, and unsure if she wanted that in the first place, she had to learn exactly who she was.
And the fates had decided to provide guidance through Vangelis. With no desire to marry into a life of danger and sadness, she could completely ignore his title (save for her obvious need for proper etiquette) and get to know the man himself— something she’d never been given the chance to do with most men. They didn’t hope to marry her because she had always made it clear that she was out of reach. When she stopped being unattainable, she started to realize that she was more than just a status symbol for someone.
That happiness could be found within herself and not from securing herself to a man.
And yet, in getting to know him, she let her heart get in the way.
Selene had spent the past week trying to figure out if she was imagining that there was more than just friendship or if Vangelis felt something, too. And in that week of debating, never once has the fact that he was a prince come into her mind. Her focus had always been him, in his kindness and steadiness. In the way he demanded more from her. In the simple way he knew she could be more even when she didn’t. She focused on him, on the man he was, and not of the title he held or the reputation.
They had always just been Selene and Vangelis.
So when she pulled him into her, seeking clarity in her confusion, she hadn’t considered that while she may have found herself wanting him, he wouldn’t have at least consider her more.
He overwhelmed her senses, and she found herself for the first time in a week feeling instead of thinking. And, to her, kissing him felt right.
His hands gently touched her forearms, and it was in that contact that she started thinking again. And immediately realized what she was doing. Not only had she literally thrown herself at him, she had taken things to a place they hadn’t seemed to be headed. She had been bold because she had hoped he had been feeling the same. And it was rapidly becoming apparent that she had, in fact, imagined that his actions had been anything but friendly.
Arm dropping from around his neck, she stepped out of his gentle hold, eyes wide and mortified. And, from the look on his face, he was just as appalled with her actions as she had been. ”My apologies, Vang… your highness. I…” Her flushed cheeks paled, eyes searching his face, pleading for… what, she didn’t know. But it was obvious to her that her actions had been both inappropriate and wrong. She turned away from him before she could embarrass herself further, forgetting the necklace in her pocket as she locked onto Ophelia, her exit.
Whilst Vangelis' mind struggled to keep up with what was happening around him - first her was having a pleasant conversation with Selene, then she'd become mad and now she was kissing him - the confusion only grew more apparent when she pulled away sharply, her expression clearly reading a state of horrified terror. Vangelis, had no idea what expression his own features were creating - for he had never paid much attention to how he came across in social situations - but it was most likely his standard scowl of focus, seeing as his mind was desperately trying to work out exactly what was occurring - both in Selene's mind and in reality.
For now, she appeared angry again. Whether this was at him - he had never had any complaints regarding his kisses before, but then what had just transpired had hardly given him the opportunity to show that but then there was still whatever he had said to upset her before that - or at herself for initiating the kiss, Vangelis wasn't initially certain. But her look of panic, the darting way her eyes refused to make contact and the words of apology that stumbled from her lips, gave him his answer quickly enough.
Was she embarrassed at having broken social protocol and kissed him when they had not yet established such a relationship? Or was she annoyed that such a kiss had been executed in the manner it was? Or was she annoyed that she had done it at all and was now regretting her decision to show that there might have been anything romantic in her thoughts towards him at all? Vangelis felt his brow drop lower as his thoughts turned over themselves. He hated social rules and awkwardness. Why couldn't people just say what they meant and do what they meant? But alas, it was not the world they lived in. And there was nothing Vangelis could do besides allow his hands to drop from her arms as Selene stepped hurriedly backwards, clearly distressed.
Completely uncertain of how the course of events had led to Selene's kiss, Vangelis was at little hope of working out exactly how the placate the woman now. Had he known the thoughts that had gotten her here, he might have been able to help alleviate some of the concerns but as he was completely in the dark, his mouth stayed firmly shut, out of the prediction that anything he said now would simply make the situation worse. He had many talents, but handling situations with any more tact than that of a military commander had never been one of them. And he was sure to only escalate her distress if he forced her to explain what had just happened.
The only thing Vangelis did, in an effort to calm her, was to speak her name as she rushed to her horse, clearly intent on leaving...
"Selene..." The name was spoken in a tone of calming rationalism and he hoped it would get her to stay her attempts at leaving and turn to speak with him...
She was well aware that she had blindsighted him now about the whole situation. There had been a hope, deep in her heart, that maybe he would have thought that it wasn’t out of the blue. There had been moments, in between the two of them, where she had been so sure that she wasn’t imagine that maybe, just maybe he had considered more of her. Moments went he would gently touch her, or look at her with something more in his eyes. And, having spent as much time with him as she had, there had been a comfort in that she knew him well enough to know his face. To guess his emotions. After two weeks of daily contact in Colchis, it was an easy skill to learn.
There was relief in the fact that her back was turned, that she couldn’t learn this look of… disappointment on his face. It wasn’t something she wanted to have to know, especially not in regards to herself.
She had always been a very careful person. Always aware of social expectations, always knowing her place in the heat of the moment. Her family has raised her to be the mature one, to demonstrate exactly how a lady was to act. That she was destined to sit beside a king. And, for most of her life, that had been the core of who she was. But then everything changed. And he had forced her to see more in herself that just her looks. Selene wanted to be more than that, and wanted to be a woman that he could respect.
But how could he respect her if she was throwing herself at him.
The kiss had been bold, had been driven by her desire to do something that she thought would solve the problem. It was a ‘throw caution to the wind’ moment for her, wholy out of character and one that completely backfired on her. Both had promised that, when alone, they would be honest with the other. And in that moment, it appeared that both had. She with her confused but present feelings for him. Him with his obvious disinterest in her romantically. And, for his honesty, she was crushed emotionally.
And she didn’t want him to see that.
The necklace in her pocket weighed heavily with each swing. Digging it out, she turned back around, pleased that the tears seemed to be willing to wait until she was no longer around him. Quickly walking the short distance back to his side, she pressed the necklace into his hand, revealing the real reason she had come to the house in the first place. ”I believe this belongs to the Athanasia. Tell her I send my apologies that I could not deliver it in person.” She didn’t dare say anything more, afraid that it would cause her emotions to topple over.
There was an odd moment for her, with her petite hand wrapped tightly around his. She knew that pulling away was the only option, that she was being ridiculous at this point to linger. But she took a breath, a beat, a pause, perhaps to know a different, intimate touch, before she pulled away from him.
Releasing his closed hand, article now in his possession to return to his sister, Selene didn’t waste time as she turned back to her horse, moving with all the grace and dignity she could muster. Even on the uneven terrain, she was able to pull herself up onto her saddle. Eye contact was made, but she was glad for the distance, for her couldn’t exactly see just how much her own mind was driving her to the brink of tears. A formal, polite nod was given to him, even thought she should have something more like bow.
Thankfully, Ophelia seemed to be done with her matchmaking, turning without protest to head back on the path towards the manor. But instead of the house, they turned back towards the gate. And as soon as they were out of eyesight from the prince, Selene kicked her into a gallop, allowing her emotions to take over once more as she fled the scene, her guard hot on her heels.
Having arrived in the Dimitrou lodgings just a few days ago, Nike had had her work cut out for her. Not even notified beforehand that the bloody Queen of Athenia was in residence, now not only did she have all monarchs under one house to worry about, she didn't have enough men to cover the ground. With the monarch's all doing their own matters, and Asia, Dorothea and Imeeya finding an easy niche to chatter by themselves, it was with much gratefulness that Nike made her excuses to be taken away from watching over the youngest Kotas princess, to instead secure the Dimitrou grounds.
It wasn't that she did not trust Lord Gavriil. Far from it. In fact, from the brief conversation she's had with Vangelis before, she knew of the old lord and how he was a trusted royal house within the Taengean nobility, and she did not worry over much within the house. However, it was not a province nor a house built to secure the safety of prince and Queen's. Not used to the Taengean built that was more for lands and less for protection, Nike found herself antsy till she could get a good lay of the land.
Because otherwise, she had little else to do.
It didn't help that being back in Taengea always made Nike antsy, and when a military-trained person was antsy, they had to do something. Which was why most days found Nike riding out, to train at a field nearby in Meganea, or if just to do a perimetre stroll of the land to ensure nothing untoward or suspicious had popped up. She had arranged for round the clock guards to patrol as well as to guard the doors and windows of her royal family that was under her protection, but Nike was a natural worrier by nature.
That afternoon had seen the Commander out to train with her claymore as usual, the heavy sword becoming more and more second nature to her. The woman barely brought out her usual sword anymore, and had plans to bequeath it to someone else more in need of the usual longsword once she returned to Colchian soil. The claymore was permanently strapped to her back on her duty, and Nike grinned when her men tried to pick it up - it wasn't as light as a usual longsword, but she had not spent the past four months training with it for no reason.
Astride a horse she had loaned from the Dimitrou stables (a fine specimen, and Nike wondered if Vangelis would accept her request for a Taengean steed if she were to ask for one), the Commander was just returning from her training session when a dashing horse out of the manor. The blonde lady astride the steed did not even notice Nike as she rode o ut, but the Commander couldn't help but follow the hunched figure with a curious gaze, and then followed her trail back... to find her General staring, looking quite perplexed.
Her brows knitted. Was that not Selene of Leventi? If she were not wrong, the blonde lady had been a guest in their Kotas manor not too long back. Had they not been friends? Why was she now leaving while Vangelis looked as if he had been smacked by a tree?
What had her idiot general done now?
Clicking at her horse, the woman slid off the back of her horse once she neared Vangelis, her pants and leather tunic riding up a little before she pulled it down, and then called out at her friend. "Why was Lady Selene leaving in such a hurry, Vangelis?" Nike's tone was curious, her features even more so as she took left the horse to its own devices, and took a couple of steps closer to Vangelis. Noticing his somewhat blank look, Nike waved a hand in front of Vangelis, as if trying to catch his attention. "Did something happen? She didn't look too happy."
At first, Vangelis thought his mumbling of her name had drawn Selene back towards him. His thoughts in such a direction were quickly stifled, however, when he saw the look on her face as she turned back in his direction. It was clear that their exchange - whatever it was and whatever it meant to her - had upset her greatly. Even a woman as experienced at controlling her features as Selene of Leventi couldn't hide the stiffness in her neck, the dullness in her eyes and the slight downturns in the corners of her mouth. Vangelis might not have known what the symptoms meant but he wasn't so obtuse that he didn't notice that they existed at all. A woman who looked like that didn't return to he who made her feel that way. Which meant he was frowning in confusion when she turned back to address him, striding across the space between them in a manner that was both speedy and purposeful.
Opening his mouth to try against to breach the silence that had fallen between them, Vangelis was distracted in his attempts when Selene reached out, her words bringing up his sister of all people and, on instinct, he reached out to take what it was she was offering, her hands latching around his to ensure he had hold of the trinket she presented. He was given a brief impression of the slightness of her palms and the slender length of her fingers - still petite in comparison to his own - and was about to reach and attempt to grab hold of them to still her in her attempts to escape and work out what was going on, but the chain of the necklace she had given him had wrapped around his hand, restricted his fingers for a moment and had him fumble the moment of opportunity he had to grab hold of her.
And then, before he could say anything more, she had made her request of him to give the necklace back to his sister, mounted her horse and turned tail and run. For running was exactly what she was doing. From him, from the situation, he had no idea... but it was clear she was not comfortable in his presence.
Standing there with planted feet, a scowl of frustration and his jaw popped out to one side as he contemplated, Vangelis hefted the necklace a little in his hands the metal links clinking in his palm as he considered what had just happened and could make neither head no tail of it.
If Selene held him in romantic thoughts, why had she broken away and fled? If she did not, why had she kissed him in the first place? Dear Gods, women were confusing...
And to add insult to injury, of course, his closest friend and Commander Nike had to rock up at that moment. Another confusing woman to add to the mix. Though, admittedly, Nike hardly counted as such. He had never seen her as a woman, nor treated her as such and she was far simpler and more direct than any females he knew. Which was probably why he got on with her so well.
At the mention of his first name, plus the waving of a hand, Vangelis moved his attention to the male clad woman - who only ever used his given name when they were alone and rank pale in comparison to the number of times they had saved each other’s lives - and his face smoothed into his normal calm once more.
"In short?" Vangelis offered the woman, knowing that such details of his life were her privy entertainment anyway thanks to needing to know the ins and outs of his relationships anyway (else how would she analyse and assess court sessions and political meets for potential dangers?). "Selene of Leventi just kissed me and did not appear happy about it." He surmised, after another fleeting look at the gates. Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he turned back to Nike. "What are you doing?" He asked as if making polite conversation, standing there bare chested and damp with his own sweat. Perhaps that had been Selene’s problem. Perhaps he was ripe after his work out? But then he hadn’t been sweating long enough for any of to dry and turn sour. And clean sweat smelt fine. What the hell was it with women that made them have to complicate everything?
If she had to put words to it, Nike would say that her general currently looked like a fish out of the water, with the way he kept gaping as he did. When Vangelis's eyes finally flickered over to apparently take notice of her presence, she leaned back on her haunches, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded, as if saying 'please keep it short'.
Was she surprised? Well... yes, and no. She would've been blind to not know that the lady from Taengea who had taken up temporary residence in the Kotas manor due to weather conditions just a month or so back, had taken a fancy to her general. In truth, Nike would understand why the most. She knew that under that rough, rock-like exterior that was her general, Vangelis had a heart of gold and a sense of responsibility that far outstripped his own personal need, making him quite possibly the most selfless man she's ever known. When you add that to the fact that he was hardworking as well as loyal, you've got a mixture of a man that was hard to not love... once you got to know him that is.
And that was what Selene had the chance to do, when she resided within the Kotas manor. So again, the Commander was not surprised. But what she was surprised with however, was that she had not been happy kissing Vangelis? Nike was no expert in love and relations, considering she's done absolutely nothing to further her own feelings, but that was because the woman was military trained to precision, and realistic to boot. Her upbringing in life meant Nike had no time to spend on fantasizing life outside of who she was, and that she had any chance, even if she did feel affectionate to her General. Out in the battlefield where they fought back against back, there was no chance for this, and Nike was more then clear of the fact.
So none of her own feelings ever showed. Instead, her brows raised, curiosity mingled with confusion as she tossed a look over her shoulder at the gate that Selene of Leventi had just dissapeared through, and then back to ask an incredulous question. "Why?" It was obvious from the tone of Nike's voice that she did not get her unhappiness. "Nothing interesting. But back to the question at hand - what in the world happened for her to be unhappy?" The Commander was not about to let the topic go, because she was fairly certain that while Vangelis had no clue of his own emotions (what's new for him anyway), it was something, from what Nike has seen over the past month or so. What went wrong?
Nike breezed off his question about her intentions and plans wandering the Dimitrou estate. Whilst another General or Commander might have demanded more detail regarding the responsibilities she had taken on without his say so or refused to accept her answer without more detail, Vangelis wasn't one of them. If Nike felt that it was part of her duty and responsibility to be out in this part of the Dimitrou lands at this particularly moment in the day then she would have good reason for it. If she told him that it was of no importance, then he didn't need to know about it. Vangelis was a workaholic and a perfectionist, but he wasn't a control freak. The only way his life and levels and positions of responsibility worked were if he had others placed in key roles beneath him to ensure that tasks were done. Others that he trusted implicitly. Nike was one of those people. As was his steward back in Chaossis. With Vangelis' complete trust came in its heels a retribution swift and unyielding if anyone was to break it. But he hadn't known someone to do that yet...
With a soft snort through his nose at Nike's insistence of knowing why Selene had been so upset, Vangelis turned on his heel and headed towards the axe he had thrown heavily into the tree stump. With a yank, his muscles rippling with the action, Vangelis had it free quickly and moved to place it against the wall of the cabin. He returned quickly to load up on the pieces of wood he had chopped as they needed to be placed inside the little wooden shack if they were to be kept dry from any future rainstorms.
"I'm not about to discuss women with you Nike." He told her, glancing at his Commander with a tone of humour. He waved one of the short bricks of wood towards the gates. "She came, we talked, she got angry with me, then she kissed me, then she was upset and then she left." He shrugged, with a piece of wood in each hand before he started to load them up into his arms and carry the first load back towards the cabin. "I genuinely didn't understand any of it."
Whilst this were true, Vangelis knew, deep down, that if he really explored and analysed his interactions with Selene that afternoon, he would have been able to piece together at least a rudimentary understanding of her feelings. In truth, he simply didn't want to understand what it was that had made someone he had slowly been coming to see as a close friend - one of those rare people he trusted - to suddenly turn the tables on him and change the dynamic of their relationship.
It would have been the same is Nike had suddenly decided to march up and kiss him - which was a laughable notion in and of itself. He would have been totally confused as to why and wouldn't have want to know why. Because if anything of such a sort happened for emotional reasons it would mean a change to their whole relationship.
Occasionally, Nike took her advantages when she could. Don't get her wrong, she was a very efficient Commander who got to her rank in this day through pure hard work. Many suspected, or even whispered and spread rumors that she was a star act in sucking up to Vangelis, and that was what had earned her the coveted position as both the crown prince's bodyguard and trusted Commander, but Nike was not one to listen to gossips and rumors. She got what she wanted through hard work and effort, and that was enough for her.
But sometimes, just sometimes, she liked to take advantage of the unlikely friendship she shared with her General and Prince.
Raising a brow when he humored her, Nike rolled her eyes as she snickered. "Who else better to discuss about women with, really?". Despite having lived as a man over the past decade or so, sometimes she wondered if Vangelis truly believed of her as one of the men. Like it or not, she still had her woman's intuition, something that was less training and more of a natural thing that she would grow into. More then once, she's watched and hid laughter as her fellow comrades would gossip about females with her, and she'd dish out oddly accurate assistance for them, so much so that they suspected Nike to be an expert with women. She allowed that rumor to run, considering it at least better then the truth.
Still leaning on her haunches as she waited for his explanation, the woman swept her growing hair out of her eyes once the prince started speaking. Following his lead, she began picking up wood as well, loading up her arms with a load slightly lesser then his. Falling in step next to him, her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together what he just said in her mind's eye. "Why did she get angry with you?" was her first question, curious as to her anger. Had Vangelis not been returning her missives? Nike was fairly sure she's seen Vangelis wielding a pen more often these days, so surely that could not be the case.
Then, as if her mind cleared out the more she spoke to Vangelis, she paused in her steps next to him, and then gaped at her friend with an incredulous look. She kissed him, and then she got upset. "Hang on. She kissed you. Please tell me you kissed her back." Nike's tone was half begging as she spoke. Surely her friend was not so stupid as to not see why, could he not?
Vangelis snorted again when Nike suggested that there was no better person for him to speak to with regards to women. Just a slight exhale through his nose that set a wrinkle to his brow and made a huffing noise until his breath. In some ways she was write - Nike was, after all, female. And whilst Vangelis was never able to forget that fact - just in case he placed her in some kind of situation that might expose her secret - he had never thought of her nor treated her as if she was a woman. Female, yes. Woman, no. Her biology was something neither of them could refute and it needed to be considered because it was important that Nike behave - and fight - in a way that negated the impact of her physical inferiority. Something they were both aware of and worked on, on a regular basis. But that didn't mean that she was a woman and certainly not a lady.
"Nike, besides biology, you're no more a woman than I am." He commented with a tone of good-natured jibing between decades-old friends. He turned his attention back to the task at hand as he set the pieces from his arms to the piles that were neatly stacked down either side of the cabin's walls, one foot inside the shack and the other still on the grass. Once he had offloaded, he stepped back to allow Nike to do the same, headed back for the pile of pieces he had accumulated over the last few hours of work.
"I told you, I have no idea." He commented when she asked him what the Lady Selene was angry about. "She thought that I was judging her in some way - which I was not, but she didn't let me get that far." He felt the grinding of fire beneath the natural gravel of his own timbre and realised that he was feeling a little defensive. He genuinely hadn't meant to insult Selene and he actually had tried to correct her on that point, despite not being given the chance to do so.
It was while he was stacking up a new set to be relocated that Nike asked him regarding the kiss, and he stood up, one arm supporting a few half dozen blocks and an addition piece held in the opposing hand.
"Not that it's any of your business-" He told her, pointing the block in her direction. "But I didn't exactly get the chance to. Whether I had wanted to or not."
His eyes narrowed as Nike came back out of the cabin with an expression in place.
"You can wipe that look off your face, Nike." He told her, pointing the block at her again. "I told you - I did nothing in this." And of that he was certain and refused to believe otherwise, no matter what his Commander might want to say. It had happened so quickly there hadn’t been anything for his shocked mind to do but just stand there and let it happen.
He finished loading up his second armful of firewood, noting that what was left would probably be a single trip for Nike and the last of the storage. If only relationships with people were as simply as the process and need of handling resources. Easy, efficient and effective.
It wasn't a surprising thing, in fact Nike would be thoroughly insulted if Vangelis started treating her like a woman, really. She's worked hard to be considered to be just as good as some men, if not better then others, and she rather enjoyed her hard work paying off. So to a certain extent, the knowledge of her biology between the two of them was simply a bit of information that she would use as a joke to him, as he would to her, but never did they seriously consider it a matter of discussion.
So she rolled her eyes at him, but her lips remained in an amused smile as she offloaded the pile of wood, and then turned to follow him back, looking for all the world as if the two military buddies were simply having a chat as it were any other day.
The woman highly doubted that Selene would have gotten so angry over no reason. The Leventi lady did not strike Nike as one of those brainless nitwits that she's occasionally seen Vangelis with, so she must have her reasons. The Commander did not at all trust that Vangelis had nothing to do with it though, but Nike recognized the grind of his voice as it grew rough. In turn, the woman raised a brow, but wisely chose to not comment on how quick e was to jump to his own defense - Gods be it for her to be the one to point out a perfectionist like her general could, Zeus forbid, be wrong.
Instead, she merely let him continue as she picked up more wood blocks.
Wearing a look of mock horror when Vangelis actually insinuated it wasn't any of her business (what, was he going to ask Athanasia for help? Not that the youngest Kotas princess was any better. And obviously, neither was the Athenian monarch in any better shape to help at this point really - what was going on with Greece?), the look melted into one of mild disbelief, as she mulled the situation in her head again.
But really, Nike didn't have to do so much thinking, because Vangelis gave her the answer she was thinking of just a few moments later. The moment Vangelis insisted he did 'nothing' in this. Her mind froze as she watched the man load up his second armful of firewood, her incredulous look pinning him as if seriously wondering if he was that stupid to be clueless in this matter... or did he really think himself faultless in this? "I think, Vangelis, that that may be the problem. Don't you think?" she asked, as she bent down to load up the remainder of the firewood in her arms, all while not letting her gaze move from pinning Vangelis down, intentionally wanting to make him squirm. "That you did nothing when a lady has made it so blatantly clear to you what she wants?" Sometimes, Nike wondered how he had Zanon and Silas as brothers, when Vangelis himself had the emotional equivalent of the firewood she now carried.
As they had continued to work, Vangelis was not unaware of Nike's piercing - and judging - gaze. He knew what she was thinking. That he had somehow failed to handle the social interaction with Lady Selene. But, in truth, the entire thing had happened so quickly that Vangelis truly wasn't certain what any of it had meant. And he would challenge Nike to have been able to dissect it there in the moment. It had been quick, surprising and Vangelis had had no time to view the event in hindsight as Nike had come upon him immediately after, demanding to know what had happened when he himself hadn't quick established that within his own mind.
Holding the door to the cabin open for his Commander to finish offloading the last of the chopped firewood, Vangelis's expression had shut down and was becoming still stonier and his scowl deeper in tone.
"I'll not take responsibility for a miscommunication launched at me without warning." He simply stated, his words clipped and his tone final without being angry. It simply sounded emotionless and practical. "If your so determined for Lady Selene's happiness, Nike, you court her."
He punctuated his final word on the matter with the push of the wooden door and the slamming of the boards meeting frame. Picking up the peg that hung from a length of string on a hook, Vangelis slotted the locking mechanism into place to keep the door shut against the wind and rain.
Moving around Nike with a stare that told her that joking was now over and the subject was to be dropped, Vangelis headed towards the side of the shack and snatched up his shirt from the shadows of his frame. Bunching it into one of his hands and taking up his belt of sheathes and weapons, Vangelis fastened the affect in place but didn't replace the shirt. He would change when he reached his rooms back at the estate. The direction in which he struck out and started to walk, looking over his shoulder only once at his Commander.
"You can return with me if you can keep your romantic advice to yourself." He commented, with a firm but non-malicious tone.
If there was one thing her best friend was, it was without a doubt stubborn as a mule on a ledge. Nike was not stupid, and she recognized his clipped tone as he spoke that brokered no argument - it was the end of the discussion, and the fool didn't even bother trying to see her point. Maybe he just saw her as too much of a guy at this point, but one would think he didn't understand the way biology worked, that just because she was raised wholly as a male and had functioned as one over the past decade, it didn't mean she didn't think like a woman occasionally. She had lived the first twelve years of her life as a girl in the care of her parents afterall.
Or maybe he really didn't know.
Snorting a wry laugh at Vangelis's suggestion, she rolled her eyes and shot a dry look at him which he of course, entirely missed in his quest to perhaps ensure he had stockpiled the best pile of firewood in Taengea. Because of course, that was more important at this moment then trying to figure out why he just pissed off and scared off a woman who was clearly interested in him.
But god forbid she tried to help him. Because god forbid the great Vangelis of Kotas, General of the Red Knights and Crown Prince of Colchis, would need help.
Of course.
"I'm fairly certain I'd be a heck of alot better at it then you are." she muttered in clipped annoyance as she moved out of the shack, the Commander really didn't bother if he heard her - because Nike's had her fair share of ladies swooning over her. Because of her natural biological gender, she naturally knew how ladies wanted to be treated, and did so automatically, only realizing after they started batting lashes at her, what she had done.
Of late, she had tried to tone it down, but her fair features and angled cheekbones meant she passed off as a handsome man herself. It was a source of amusement for the men, and to a certain extent even between her and Vangelis, but at this point, she saw it serving a better purpose - because obviously Vangelis was hopeless at using his looks for a better purpose other then to get it hopelessly scarred.
Merely watching as he started towards the estate, the Commander resisted the urge to roll her eyes again at his comment, and instead of taking him up on his offer, headed towards where she had left her ride earlier. "I need to head to the stables anyway, and make sure this one is taken care of." Holding the reins, just before she got herself on horseback, Nike paused and then turned back to the man, "The occasional advice isn't bad, you know. Just because I've been your Commander over the past decade, doesn't mean I don't know how a woman thinks."
Without waiting for an answer, Nike swiftly got herself on to the back of the gelding, turned the beast around, and kicked her heels in to get the horse galloping back to the stables she had first got him from. It was a rare occasion when Nike of Acaris was actually annoyed at her best friend and General, because as much as she admired the man for his work ethic, talent and loyalty, and had harbored such admiration for years... he really was a fool.