It had been a longer absence than usual,business in Euttica keeping him busy beyond what he had expected. He would rather have remained and finished it, but tomorrow’s Senate meet had made that an impossibility, and so Achilleas had made the ride from his barony back to Vasiliadon, and to Archontiko Mikaelidas. Following his conversation with his father, there seemed to have beena flurry of activity concerning his betrothal to Theodora of Leventi,and the baron had not accounted for barrage of details his mother had been swept up in. He could see now why his father had rolled his eyes when he had asked what exactly needed to be done to facilitate such a thing.
Hoping that here at least he would be spared the bulk of it for a few hours, the Lord had handed off his horse to the stable boy and made his way through the manor house to his own chambers. He took a detour to his study to check up on any correspondence that had not been forwarded onto Eutticca, flicking through the few papers and frowning at one that he would need to respond to sooner rather than later, he sat down in the straight backed chair and read it through, glancing up with a start when someone entered a few moments later.
“My Lord” came the words of the head housekeeper, the servant offering him a bow as a jug of kykeon was set upon the table and a cup poured for the elder of the Prince’s sons. “ Will I have a bath drawn for you My Lord?”
Achilleas supposed he ought, for it was hot and the journey had been long enough to see him damp with sweat, and so he gave a nod . “ Yes thank you Phyliss”. He was grateful for the refreshment too, sipping at it as he dealt with the rest of the missives that had been waiting for him. When the elderly housekeeper left, the Lord lifted his eyes to the door and wondered if he would not soon receive another visitor. And then he felt like a coward for hoping not.
He had not see Briseis to speak to since the betrothal had been announced, and though the news itself would be no shock – it had always been in his future to be wed to a noble woman – he was not looking forward to the conversation he needed to have to bring their long standing arrangement to an end. It had become habit, familiar and Achilleas couldn’t deny that he would miss the easiness of it all. But even had he not concluded so himself, his father had made it clear enough that his dalliance with the maid could not continue. He was betrothed, committed now, to a young woman of fine standing, and he could not sully that promise by continuing to dally with the staff.
It played upon his mind as he bathed, and then though dinner and then later still. The usual way of it was that she would come to him when the rest of the household had retired, and he would be glad to welcome her to his bed. But when the time came, Achilleas lay wakeful and tetchy this time, unable to find rest. He should have just told her the moment he’d had the conversation with his father rather than letting it drag on. Now he just wanted it done.
Hoping that here at least he would be spared the bulk of it for a few hours, the Lord had handed off his horse to the stable boy and made his way through the manor house to his own chambers. He took a detour to his study to check up on any correspondence that had not been forwarded onto Eutticca, flicking through the few papers and frowning at one that he would need to respond to sooner rather than later, he sat down in the straight backed chair and read it through, glancing up with a start when someone entered a few moments later.
“My Lord” came the words of the head housekeeper, the servant offering him a bow as a jug of kykeon was set upon the table and a cup poured for the elder of the Prince’s sons. “ Will I have a bath drawn for you My Lord?”
Achilleas supposed he ought, for it was hot and the journey had been long enough to see him damp with sweat, and so he gave a nod . “ Yes thank you Phyliss”. He was grateful for the refreshment too, sipping at it as he dealt with the rest of the missives that had been waiting for him. When the elderly housekeeper left, the Lord lifted his eyes to the door and wondered if he would not soon receive another visitor. And then he felt like a coward for hoping not.
He had not see Briseis to speak to since the betrothal had been announced, and though the news itself would be no shock – it had always been in his future to be wed to a noble woman – he was not looking forward to the conversation he needed to have to bring their long standing arrangement to an end. It had become habit, familiar and Achilleas couldn’t deny that he would miss the easiness of it all. But even had he not concluded so himself, his father had made it clear enough that his dalliance with the maid could not continue. He was betrothed, committed now, to a young woman of fine standing, and he could not sully that promise by continuing to dally with the staff.
It played upon his mind as he bathed, and then though dinner and then later still. The usual way of it was that she would come to him when the rest of the household had retired, and he would be glad to welcome her to his bed. But when the time came, Achilleas lay wakeful and tetchy this time, unable to find rest. He should have just told her the moment he’d had the conversation with his father rather than letting it drag on. Now he just wanted it done.