He had not wanted to do it. All the way along, Achilleas had been careful to ensure that his...involvement with Briseis had not impacted her work or position. He would not let her linger overlong in his bed, not shirk her duties in the assumption that because she was with him it would be excused. Nor had he ever expected her to drop things on his behalf, or be entirely at his beck and call.
He had been so careful, and that was why it seemed such a blow now, what he was about to do. But Achilleas could see no other way, not after the awkwardness of the dinner he had endured, nor the discomfort of the weeks preceding it. Theodora would be his wife in a matter of days, and it was untenable to have his past lover right under her nose, or right under his, as he was coming to see.
And so the eldest of Irakles’ sons was doing the cowardly thing. He would seek out Meena and ask her to find some other employ for Briseis, somewhere away from the archontiko where he would not be faced with her mournful stares or hurt glances whenever he was in residence. Somewhere he would not have to worry about her saying something to Theodora that might give offence or enable what he had explicitly been instructed not to allow to happen, the muddying of his own reputation.
It took some swallowing his pride even to consider such a thing, for there was little love lost between the Lord and his father’s Mistress. Achilleas tolerated her presence, and that of her daughters - his half sisters- because he had to, but he avoided them as much as possible, and so he knew it would be a surprise when he sought her out. It would raise her suspicions immediately ; she would know he wanted something.
With a grim sort of sigh, Achilleas forced himself to follow through with his intent. He had waited to be sure his father had returned to the Palati, timed it for when he knew Meena was likely to be in the archontiko, and hopefully alone. He would rather noone witness him having to lower himself to ask something of the jumped up little madam who had somehow stolen a seat at the Mikaelidas table.
Such thoughts were not making his task any easier, but Achilleas found them easier to focus on that the guilt at how he was betraying Briseis. She had done little to deserve it, other than becoming too attached, and that he should have spotted long before now. The man ran a hand through his dark hair before he gave a knock on the door to the sun room where he knew his father’s mistress liked to take her mornings.
Achilleas did not wait for permission to enter, he could not bear to, not from the woman the same age as himself and with no social standing of her own to lay claim to. Instead, he grit his teeth a moment before adopting a more neutral expression and stepping inside.
“Meena. I wondered if I might trouble you a moment with a small matter pertaining to the household staff”
It was direct, but he knew no other way to address the woman, nor he could bring himself to sugar coat his words. With any luck, she would oblige him without him needing to.
Meena savored the cool breeze which flowed through the open window into the sun room. The harbor air touched her naked skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Soft, chestnut waves cascaded freely down her back, a few strands catching in the wind. She was sitting upright in a plush kline, cream silken sheets bundled up around her waist and spilling onto the floor. Her back was towards the doorway and her face tipped upwards to the beaming sun, soaking in the warmth.
Lashes fluttered open, revealing fiery, amber orbs that flickered with a sense of pleasure. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips as her hands trailed abstractedly along her bare skin and over the curve of her waist. Her face radiated with pure bliss and the inkling of something sensual. She absent-mindedly played with the loose tendrils framing her face as her mind replayed that morning’s events.
Long before dawn, Irakles had graced her bed among other places. Over the past few days, he’d been elusive, keeping himself occupied at the palati. Though, she was a jealous lover – always covetous of his attention – she'd long ago grown accustomed to his evasive ways of coming and going. She just knew to keep herself ready for whenever he called. And needless to say, the series of events that had recently occurred had left him for a better lack of words – tense. So, the vixen didn’t complain whenever he slipped away from the palace to find solace in her arms. Her only regret was that she couldn’t sway him to stay longer, but she also wasn’t opposed to a quiet morning alone.
Abruptly pulled from her thoughts, Meena’s body stilled whenever her door flung open. A glower formed across her delicate eyebrows and indignation flared up within her at such blatant disrespect. No servant – nor courtier – would dare offend her by such stupid actions. Yet, her features smoothed into a neutral state whenever Irakles’ eldest broke her peaceful silence. Odd. She couldn’t recall a time that he’d approached her so directly, especially in Irakles’ wing. It was not a secret among them that Meena held claim to his side and as long as she could remember his sons tended to stray away. Which then brought question into her mind as to why Achilleas could be there. Still, a righteous fury licked through her at his crass manners, but she kept her gaze cool when she peeked back over her shoulder to meet his own. “I assume this is of dire importance as you’ve entered so intrusively.” Her words were thinly veiled over her anger, not sparing even her lover’s son.
“....a small matter pertaining to the household staff….”
The words died a death on his lips as the Lord stepped across the threshold and found the target of his question. Blue eyes widened as they took in the very bare expanse of skin and pronounced lack of attire presented to him.
“ FUCK” It was an expletive that would not usually have escaped in front of a lady, but then Meena was no lady, and it slipped out with no chance of him preventing it. Barely had his eyes alighted upon the woman and Achilleas had spun away, facing the wall rather than her, palm extended behind him as if he might fend off the vision.
His outrage did not take into account the fact that he had rather intruded on Meena’s space, but Achilleas was not thinking logically then. He was trying very hard not to think about why his father’s mistress was lounging around naked, and instead focusing on how he was going to mitigate the situation.
He had not even considered that she would not be clothed, and in his horror had turned to leave when she addressed him. Achilleas was then so shocked that she could be so blase about it that he forgot why he was facing toward the door as he turned to spit out “By the GODS, put some clothes on!” And then he realised his mistake and blinked, because aside from the fact that she was some trollop who had displaced his mother, Meena was still a woman, and an attractive one at that. The thought burned him even he became conscious of it, and Achilleas twisted away again, shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Forgive me the intrusion.” He bit out sharply, breathing through his nose. “ When you are decent perhaps we can talk”
The elder son of her lover, her contemporary in age if nothing else, stalked back out of the room and into the hallway, where he scrubbed a hand over his face.
What in Hades name had just happened? Achilleas looked around, a little lost. Whatever preparation he had done in anticipation of speaking with Meena regarding Briseis had fallen by the wayside, and the man could only try and pace off his agitation as he waited for the woman to clothe herself and come to him. Would she even? He retreated to the sitting room at the back of the house and stood by the window, the line of his shoulders tight with tension, his arms folded across his chest.
Away from the immediacy of the situation, Achilleas could better see his own fault in the matter, but still he seethed in the knowledge that he had knocked. He had knocked and she had not even called out a warning, and now he had unwittingly barged in upon his father’s mistress wearing little more than a bedsheet. How he could not wait to be back in Euttica. Away from this house and his father and Meena.
But as his shock slowly receded, so with it did his indignation. Emiolios would die laughing, Achilleas thought, and he vowed then that he would not tell his brother lest he never hear the end of it. Slightly less humorous was the notion that the woman might tell his father of it, and Achilleas did not think he could cope with speaking with the man about her. Mostly, he managed to ignore the thorn in their family’s side that was Meena, but only by avoiding talk of her. If Irakles chose to use this as another thing to criticize him over then he could not be confident in holding his tongue.
Almost he considered abandoning the whole idea of speaking to the woman, but Achilleas blew out a breath. He needed to resolve the mess he had unthinkingly created for himself, and this seemed the only way. He would apologise -through his teeth- and then ask Meena to do this thing.
Meena’s icy glare never left Achilleas as the man abruptly descended into a state of mental chaos, losing all thread of composure. By the way he was reacting Meena almost wondered if he’d ever truly laid eyes on a woman before, but she bit her tongue against any snide remarks. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his dramatic aversion, she kept her cool gaze whilst he prattled on like a twit.
This is the Commander of the Taengean armies? She inwardly scorned as he flailed about like a squawking hen. She couldn’t help but have doubt in his abilities. However, her apathetic eyes soon darkened into unbridled rage when he had the audacity to turn his accusations against her, as if this was somehow her fault.
“By the GODS, put some clothes on!” He turned on her, his frantic eyes glaring. Yet, no sooner than the words left his mouth, a realization dawned on him and he was fast stumbling over some ill-attempted apology before skulking out of the room.
Forgive him? Meena’s frame stiffened against his cutting words and her rage shaken hands balled up into fists, the nails digging into her flesh. Though he certainly seemed ignorant, Meena knew that he was no fool.
As if he’d fully expected her to be there, he’d entered without the slightest regard, something that Meena knew he would have afforded anyone else. But, not her. Though, the words were left unspoken between them, she would be foolish to think that he thought her other than a whore in his home; ergo – undeserving of even her own fragment of privacy and respect. Such actions would have never been permitted by Irakles had he been there. But, Meena couldn’t help but believe that Achilleas must have known that and that thought alone was cause enough for her to resent him. The indignation that she felt clawed its way through her and threatened to tear through the stoic barrier.
Prying her fingers apart, her palms stung and she stiffly rose from the kline, the silken sheets sliding to the cold floor. Her chin tilted up in pride and she gracefully approached the door. Unlike Achilleas, her daughters and the rest of the Mikaelidas household knew well to keep their distance, especially on days that she entertained Irakles. So, beseeming the whore that she was, she stepped over the threshold and out into the corridor completely bare. A smug grin cracked through her sullenly attractive veneer as she sashayed her way down the hall, her dainty stride effortless, to her chamber to dress.
Out of spite, Meena was deliberate in dressing and sparing with her time. Whenever she finally emerged from her quarters an ivory chiton clung to her frame. Layered elegantly over it was a lavender himation, the light hue complimenting to her fair olive complexion. The fabric was held in place by golden fibulae, formed like Mikaelidas lions, which were fastened at each shoulder – a mere reminder to Achilleas of her place whether he liked it or not. A simple, silver necklace rested across her breastbone and she wore an array of silver and golden bangles along each wrist. Her long, dark waves were swept back into a braid with glittering, glass beads sewn in. Her apparel wasn’t by any means ornate. But, it was far more luxurious than what a woman such as herself would ever be expected to wear. To hell with that.
When she entered the sitting room, her keen, amber orbs swept across the perimeter before landing on Achilleas as he peered out the window. “Why have you come here?” She asked coolly, blatantly skipping all forms of appropriate address. A glower pinched her delicate features and she did not breach the space between her and the lord. It wasn’t that he presented a threat, but rather she couldn’t dispel her innermost sense of having been violated. Of course, she would never express those feelings, opting instead for a neutral tone and a well-worn facade. Even then, it would be a lie to say that she was entirely shameful for having been seen.
She did not hurry of course. Achilleas was not surprised, using the time afforded to try and prepare himself better, and not dwell on that unfortunate beginning.
It had long been a source of discomfort to Achilleas, his father’s taking up with a woman - a girl when she had first come - akin to his own age. Angry at the slight to his mother but unable to do anything about it, the Lord had turned some of that hostility toward Meena. Never obviously, because his father would not stand for that, but it was there non the less, a subtle coldness in any of the interactions that he was forced to endure, outright avoidance of her otherwise.
He had been young himself when Irakles had moved her into the archontiko, and had been faced with the confusing fact that here was this girl, this attractive girl -for what teenage boy would not have noticed Meena- taken up with his father. She could never assume any kind of authority over him, but yet he could not ignore the fact that she had his father’s ear, so it was a strange dance between them.
The woman’s surprise at him having sought her out was not misplaced then, for it was a rarity, and something must have moved the Lord to break his own rule of just trying to ignore her existence entirely. Indeed it was the very face that he needed something of her that saw Achilleas prepared to overlook the inflammatory nature of her tone when she suddenly spoke and pulled him from his musings.
Turning as to face the woman in the doorway.,he looked her over, not missing the finery she had draped herself in, his gaze stilling a moment on the fibulae she had selected, before he gave a snort of disdain and let his eyes settle upon her face and the glare she directed at him.
Achilleas drew a breath as if summoning his own patience, calling upon his years and experience as a baron in dealing with those who could not harness their emotions. He would conduct himself cordially even if she would not.
“My apologies, Meena for..before” The words were delivered dispassionately, the man having had chance to consider them and determined not to lose his focus in this. If her choice of wording stung - like he did not have the right to move about the Archontiko - then Achilleas did not let it show, but rather continued to maintain his carefully constructed reserve.
“ I had hoped to speak with you. I have a request regarding the staff, and that being your domain” his jaw tensed a little at that “had me seek you out”.And see more than he had bargained for the Lord thought, with a flash of irritation again.
If his father had not revoked the responsibilities of the House from him, then Achilleas might have even just dealt with it himself, risked her annoyance rather than having to approach and ask for something. But that was not an option available to him now, and so he was forced to swallow a good helping of his own pride in saying what he said next.
“The girl...Briseis.I need you to find her another position”. The words were almost bitter on his tongue, Achilleas aware of his betrayal and not liking it. But what else could do?