Event: Dead or Alive In the Name of Irakles of Mikaelidas
By the name and sponsorship of Irakles of Mikaelidas, an aid and rescue tent has been set up in the front court of the Mikaelidas manorhouse. Upon entering the private property through a set of wide and impressive gates, the front courtyard, with mosaic floors and beautiful potted plans has been emptied and a sheet tent of fabric stretched across the wings of the manor. The courtyard has been entirely turned into a cool and shady place for the injured to congregate. Healers and physicians have been summoned from around the city, requesting their services in the name of the Prince and the Crown, while supplies have arrived in the droves through the House of Leventi. A scribe's desk has even been set up for people to go and ask regarding the names of the dead to see if loved ones or friends names appear on the list. This desk is to be manned day and night to aid those who cannot read, and the healers and volunteers are requested to give as much time as they are able. Come one, come all and be healed... in the name of Prince Irakles.
Year: 672 BC, Summer.
Involves: Anyone currently (within liquid time parameters) in Taengea.
The capital seemed so closed in compared to the open countryside Evie preferred. Even when the smell of smoke and death didn’t linger, the city smelled less… crisp. This wasn’t her element and she couldn’t help the feeling of awkwardness that swept over her as she stood in front of the wide, impressive gates of the Mikaelidas manorhouse. There were too many people. Those big, dark eyes of hers swept over the scene in front of her and her teeth captured her bottom lip. She could just leave the basket filled to the brim with jars of the honey and herb salve for the injured. She could… but she didn’t.
Stepping forward, through the open gates of the Mikaelidas manor house she made her way towards the tent, or more exactly to the scribe’s desk. Bryony, her slave walked quietly behind her with two more baskets of the salve. Evie set her basket down next to the scribe's desk and Bryony followed suit. The scribe was busy, but she offered an easy smile, grabbing one of the jars of salve she took a deep breath and looked for the best place to start.
Fake it till you make it, Evie! Fake it till you make. Straightening her back, she marched forward and began helping the best she could. After an hour or so, Evie had seemed to find her groove and her confidence. She helped people to the scribe's desk, cleaned a few wounds, and applied the salve. That little voice in her head was cheering. She surprised herself but she wasn’t half bad at this. Those she was helping didn’t care one wit’s end who she was, no, they were simply thankful for the help. What had turned into just delivering the slaves turned into something she could handle… some more time had passed before she decided to send Bryony back to the Leventi household to let them know where she was and what she was doing. It’d probably surprise her father, but at least she was keeping herself busy. It was an undoubted boon of having a daughter almost grown.
Finding some quiet time, she picked up an orange off a basket she passed and escaped the activity for a few moments as she leaned against the side of the Mikaelidas’ home as she peeled her orange gradually and broke it apart only to shove the citrusy fruit into her mouth wedge by wedge. This wasn’t how she’d imagined she’d first really experience a bit of freedom in the city. At home, her freedom was found riding in the countryside whizzing by. She was lost in thought deeper than she’d meant to be as a fleshy wedge of orange squirted through her orange juice saturated fingers and took a dive, taking advantage of the small gap between her slumped shoulders and the fabric of the collar of her chiton. Oh gods!
Her brown eyes came alert and she jumped forward clutching her bust. Why did things like this always happen to her? Fishing a hand down the collar of her fitted chiton, she tried to grasp the orange but it was easier in theory, being that it was a slippery little devil. It seemed the more she tried to twist to retrieve it the more it seemed to slip farther from her grasp. A low growl slipped from her as she managed to snag the orange wedge, fishing it out of cleavage. At least, it had happened in a nice quiet moment away from the activity. But this… This was exactly why she would have rathered being back in the countryside with the horses.
No one could have predicted it and therefore no one could have prepared for it. The terrors on the night of the horrid event caused a ripple of confusion and horror in Taengea. What was supposed to be a time for celebration and merriment on the third day of the Festival of Dionysus transformed into a time of bloodshed. The loss of the late King Zenon was perhaps the most shocking of the night’s happenings. The hidden identities of the assailants only fueled the uproar that followed: who were they to blame for their pain and injuries, anger and heartbreak.
Nothing could be done for the latter aspect—not when so little information was known about it—but where it was impossible to heal the wounds of the heart, wounds of the body could be tended to. Word spread across the city, and the request of the services of healers and physicians were sent out immediately thanks to the goodwill and coin of Irakles of Mikaelidas. There was to be a tent set up where those who were injured, perhaps those who could not afford it otherwise, could receive medical care and inquire upon the potential mortality of a loved one.
Helena had been enthralled by the prospect. Though she was put in charge of the care of Lady Olympia as her personal midwife, a woman who had been witness on the night of the event herself, she had subjected her to bed rest. Should she require additional care in Helena’s absence, Helena was confident of the abilities of the palace physicians. Of course, she found them to be too coarse and detached to provide her Lady with the emotional support she needed during her entrance into motherhood. Nevertheless, they were well trained in their craft and some of the most capable individuals in the kingdom. Helena could rest assured.
Upon receiving the request, Helena jumped at the chance to do something rather than sit idly by. Where there was a need, Helena could not simply ignore it, and the opportunity allowed her to act on her anxieties. At least if she were occupied and keeping her hands busy she wouldn’t have to be alone with her thoughts, and stew in a slew of unanswered questions. Being busy meant that she could focus on the task at hand. Though it was a very small part she played in the grander scheme of things, she could satisfy her own need to provide some sort of assistance.
She arrived at the frontcourt of the Mikaelidas manorhouse bright and early. Her heart ached when she saw that there were people already there awaiting medical attention as tents and tables were still being set up. Crates of medical supplies were being moved to and fro from their transport to the tent, laborers filling the area and working to ensure everything was in order.
Other healers and physicians began to trickle in, some of which Helena knew and others she did not. She was not surprised to note that her own husband was not in attendance, as his aged state left him decrepit. At the age of seventy, Paion’s mobility had been restricted. It was difficult for him to move about their humble home, let alone travel to the manorhouse where he would remain on his feet day and night.
Paion’s own health was slowly deteriorating. His decision to take on a wife had nothing to do with a desire for companionship; he simply came to an understanding that he could no longer run his affairs on his own. Helena frequently thought of him while she stayed at the palace tending to Olympia. She hoped he was really doing as well as he had written in his letter.
By late morning the safehouse was fully operational, but it was far from peaceful. The healers and physicians needed to tend to their patients, all the while directing volunteers and answering the numerous questions that were being thrown their way. Helena’s head began to pound as she ordered a particularly incompetent volunteer to bring her the correct tools for the third time. Her patient was a young woman with a severely burned arm. From her shoulder to her forearm was an ugly, blistered expanse of skin, and though it was primarily unseemly rouge in colour there were parts that were blackened and charred.
“I know it hurts,” Helena attempted to comfort her patient as she blubbered and sobbed, “but you must stay still. I need to drain the fluid from your blister by making a small hole, and then we can apply a salve and bandage you.” Helena looked about the tent. Hopefully, there was someone more competent than that volunteer that could assist her.
With the chaos and terror that still bled through the streets just days after the terror attack at the circus, whatever available healers and medical assistance in the city of Vasiliadon were all tied up, busy with helping the injured and helpless. Where the capital of Taengea should be boisterous, happy and perpetual in an easygoing mode, it was now acrid with smoke and the lingering metallic smell of blood and terror that permeated the area. The kingdom was a mess, and Irakles was not happy.
He took great pride in the capability of his beloved Taengea, his pride and joy. Perhaps there was a reason why he never came to love his wife, and could only say he lusted greatly after Meena, as much as he stayed loyal to his mistress. Irakles was, above all else, practically married to his kingdom and country, and everyone else is considered a mistress. He wanted nothing more then the best, and this... this was certainly not.
But Irakles convinced himself that his actions were for the greater good - that in the long run, he'll be able to get Taengea to its glory.
For now, he just had to fix things. So within days, the second prince had ordered the set up of a tent and for the gates to the private property of his family to be opened to the public. What better way to show support then to offer it to the masses? The royal family in the palace was in no position to do it now, neither were any of them in the right mind, so Irakles had informed his sister in law that he will take care of matters. The decorated general of the Taengean army had informed all healers to congregate there, whereby the Mikaelidas family would provide as much aid and medication as they could.
Having left the opening of the gates to his servants and slaves, Irakles only now exited the main halls of his residence. Cladded in black chiton and regular slippers, he looked the part of a mourning brother as he meandered through the crowd, showing concern and directing the people to where they could seek the help they need. With his crown on his head, it was no question who he was, the prince who had directed all of this. As such, he also had to gently deal with the profuse thankful greetinsg he got, to which Irakles merely smiled and acknowledged as he moved among the crowd of people.
Nearing the entrance of his home, a small frown marred his forehead when he spied a small figure at the entrance of the courtyard, and out of habit, started making his way there to see who it was. The suspicion in his heart only eased when he recognized the coloring, and somewhat the features of the girl. Quickly, Irakles sifted through his memory, and as he approached, cleared his throat so as to announce his presence. "Lady Evangelina... is there something I could assist you with?" he murmured, keeping a respectful distance as he noticed the stain down the younger woman's chest. "I can send you to one of my daughters, they would have a chiton you could loan for now, if you'd like."
She relished the small victory against the orange wedge for a moment. That was all she was allowed before her hopes of being the only witness was shattered. Someone cleared their throat, cutting through the quiet she’d found. What was left of the orange in her hand dropped and her head shot up as she all but jumped out of her own skin.
Evie silently cursed the gods. Out of everyone it could have been, leave it to a Mikaelidas, and not even one of the younger ones closer to her own age that she might have simply brushed off the incident with a laugh but...His Highness, Irakles of Mikaelidas. The man who’d organized all of this. Would it be too much to ask for the Gods to simply have the ground swallow her whole at this very moment with a giant sinkhole? She really didn’t ask for much.
‘Lady Evangelina... is there something I could assist you with?’
Her big, dark, doe eyes blinked in confusion then amusement. Assist her with what? That almost made her laugh. He had to have her confused with another Leventi. Maybe his eyesight was failing him? That had to be it. She ignored the question, as she tossed him a smile full of fake confidence. In a sharp, jerky movement Evie snatched the orange from the ground and held it up. “I… um… slippery little fellow.” It wasn’t the coy, perfectly planned comment she wished she could have come up with, but it was the only reply that had made it out of her lips. It was better for her to stop while she was ahead.
Still waiting for the ground to swallow me up here… Any time… any time now…
Following his gaze down to the stain on her bust, she felt the steady rise of her blush and knew her cheeks were on fire. It was bad enough to lose one’s orange down one’s bust but for said orange to leave a wet spot too... She was mortified. It was taking everything in her power not to dart past him and make a run for it. Sucking in a long breath before letting it out. You can handle this. Gods, you can control a large, beasty stallion with nothing more than your hips and legs. One man… even one as intimidating at Irakles had better not going to send you running for cover.
At almost a foot shorter, Evie wasn’t exactly sure how exposed she was, so when in doubt and with her luck… assume the worst. Shifting uncomfortably, she crossed her arms trying to conceal as much of the wet spot on the thin fabric as she could. Clearing her throat, she found her confidence and spoke. “You are too kind, your highness. If it’s not too great of an inconvenience that…” Her voice wavered for a moment. “Um…” She stood a little straighter, grasping onto her confidence firmly again. “That might be best.”
Perhaps if she’d had the grace of her cousins or at the very least their busts she might have strutted about like a little banty rooster. But at that exact moment, her hair had started unraveling twig by twig… with each person she’d aided earlier, and then again with her little game of ‘Find the Orange.’ The urge to reach up and attempt to tuck her rebellious, wayward strands back into place was curbed only by the fact that she was sure if her hands moved… she might just find herself in a more mortifying incident then she’d ever imagined. Granted, she’d stopped stuffing cloths under her cleavage a few years ago but that hardly awarded her Aphrodite’s bust. So there would be none of that strutting around, not from her, and not today. The sooner she could put this behind her the happier she was going to be.
Fotios could not help but smile internally. Not externally - for that would be inappropriate when there were people on all sides of him severely injured or traumatized. One had to keep up the appearance of caring at events such as this, of course. But inside... inside he was practically preening - as he always did when a plan came together.
All of those who were currently helping with the efforts in the Mikaelidas front court - the owners of the tent, for example, or the donators of the tables and chairs... they had all been approached by Fotios weeks ago in order to book their services for the dining event the Lady Evelli had wanted to hold in his homes on the second night of the Festival. And wouldn't you know it, Fotios - the man with the photographic memory - had forgotten to cancel the order, ensuring that a dozen wooden tables, thirty wooden chairs and the poles, material, netting, drapes, bed sheets and linens were all kept in his spare storage hall on the Leventi grounds... how convenient.
As such, he had momentarily mentioned to the Prince Irakles of how many people he thought might have been injured in the circus crisis and how it was such a shame that they now had a prince who was so self-focused that he would never think to tend to the care and medical aid of his people...
Twenty-four hours later and Irakles had been complaining that no traders in the city were available to provide him with the supplies he would need for a medical event to be set up at the Mikaelidas manor house. Fotios had been so moved by the prince's generosity and charitable thinking he had just had to insist that the man use the surplus of supplies he had in storage.
Ergo... the event had come into being.
As head of the Leventi house, it was his responsibility, of course, to ensure that the manner in which the medical aid was administered to the people was appropriate and successful and so he had turned up a few hours after the Mikaelidas gates had been opened.
Approaching a beautiful woman with jet black hair and a fine touch that his eyes noticed with interest, Fotios stepped forward to offer the woman the implement she was reaching for in order to treat a patient's nasty blister.
"Here..." He commented as he handed it over with a soft smile.
Fear was a powerful motivator. Sara saw that every time anyone trembled in the presence of her father and now, the entire kingdom suffered under the weight of it. Though she had not been present when tragedy had struck the circus during the festival but a cloud of smoke had risen far into the sky and watched breathlessly while her mother took stock of the household. Where exactly was everyone? Were they safe? Achilleas had been in the competition and with that realization, Sara knew fear. Wasn't Emilios there as well? Were her brothers safe?
The young lady had risen at dawn and dressed in the black chiton for mourning. Boots on and Pistos properly fed there had been a hurried manner in which she saw to braiding and pinning her hair back at the nape of her neck. This was not the time for any jewels or fancy belts that her mother so enjoyed. Instead, Sara was outside assisting the servants and slaves, the laborers and healers, physicians and volunteers. Everyone who had come to their home seeking aid.
Much of her time was spent finding seating for the wounded and making sure to sort them correctly with the different tents. Demure and meek she gave small smiles to those seeking help for their burns and injuries. Sara did her best to take their minds off of the pain by asking arbitrary questions. Sometimes it was whole families she needed to escort.
Sometime later Sara had lost herself in the work. She had noticed the bandages getting low and had joined several other volunteers in helping to lay them out. It was mindless stuff but it occupied her hands and that was what was important.
He knew of course, who she was. It was his business both as head of the royal family house as well as a prince in Taengea, to assure himself of every person within the noble families. He did his best, but the Lady Evangelina was one of the lesser known ones, so Irakles had limited knowledge of her - not as much as he had of Fotios's nieces, of which he had great plans for, of course. A kindly smile that he often portrayed for the public appeared on his features at her little comment, noting the orange she had snatched.
Straightening up, he was quick to brush away her thank with a shake of his head and a soft chuckle. "Tis no inconvenience at all. I'm sure my daughters would be happy to assist you." he murmured. Sara and Tasia were both known to be his children, albeit not legitimate and not registered in the house registry, it was an open secret that Irakles had booted his own wife out of the house and now had his mistress and daughters under them. Still, in his presence, he doubted anyone would dare slight the girls, legitimate or not.
Making a motion for the Lady Evangelina to come with him, Irakles led her back on to the courtyard grounds, his eyes briefly ghosting over a few acquaintances who had arrived, before they finally sought out whom they were searching for. The dark head of his youngest in the aid tent, where she was busying herself with laying out bandages - as he had suspected. Unlike her sister, Sara was more down to earth, willing to work. Perhaps that was part of why he had a special fondness for her, even if it was a fondness no one ever knew of, something that would be a detriment to her if it ever got out. Irakles treated her with the same offhand manner he gave anyone else, and it was clear as he approached the tent.
Waving away people that had bowed in respect at his approach, Irakles's gruff and brisk tone was quick to address his daughter. "Sara, please escort the Lady Evangelina to your quarters, and provide her with a new chiton of yours to wear." It his regular tone that expected people to obey, his face a stony one facing her, but melted into one of warmth when he turned to Evangelina and gave a small, courteous bow."My daughter will see to your needs, my lady. I shall take my leave for now. Do ask for me if any other assistance is necessary."
Taking two steps away, Irakles trusted his daughter enough to leave, his eyes roaming again around the area to seek out anything else that would require his interference or assistance amongst the throngs of people flooding his courtyard.
There it was. That perfect, kindly, all-knowing smile. Oh, she knew that smile. She hated to tell him this but he didn’t have the corner market on it. She’d seen it so much she could identify it by the cloying softness. He might have been able to identify her but knowing her was an entirely different matter. Whether it was one of these singular traits or the combination of her age, gender, and accident-proneness but people were so quick to peg her. It was just a little patronizing. Sugar and salt looked identical when sprinkled on a dish.
Her lips returned the same sweet, all-knowing smile and she cast her dark eyes demurely down as he brushed away her sincere ‘thank you’.
‘Tis no inconvenience at all. I’m sure my daughters would be happy to assist you.’
She had no qualms with his daughters, despite what other faults she had… Evie refused to blame people for the circumstances they were born into and the faults of their parents. It wasn’t as if his daughters had chosen to be illegitimate. It was what the person did with the circumstances they had that mattered to this Leventi girl. Kingdoms and names rose and fell as often as the leaves changed. Wasn’t all of this a perfect example of how things could shift?
He made a motion for her to follow and follow she did. A little bit of relief shot through her as his gaze shifted off of her. Refusing to be left in his dust, the pint-sized, brunette had to take two steps to everyone that Irakles long legs made even at a slower pace. Catching sight of her uncle, she groaned inwardly and slowed just enough that she could hide just a little behind Irakles’ bulkier frame. Unfortunately, Irakles stopped and Evie had to twist to the side of him to keep from running into him. She looked at the girl a few years younger than her. Her thick dark hair and blue eyes were quite lovely and she had a sweet look about her. A softness in her eyes that Evie instantly liked - did the girl know she brought out a protective side in people?
‘Sara, please escort the Lady Evangelina to your quarters, and provide her with a new chiton of yours to wear.’
Evangelina’s dark eyes darted from the girl to glance back up at Irakles. She wasn’t going to point it out to him but there was going to be a… um… slight problem with this. Maybe his daughter would have something to pin the heam up with. The hackles that had raised earlier at feeling a bit patronized quickly lowered and fought the urge to giggle as she answered him cheerfully.
“Again thank you, Your Highness. You’ve been my hero today.”
Waiting till he had taken a couple of steps, she offered the inches taller girl a warm smile and added to her. “Please tell me you also have some pins too…” And the giggle softly slipped out.
The man had appeared suddenly, pulling Helena’s attention from the otherwise chaotic environment to the small, pointed object that was held between his fingertips. Her gaze trailed upward, following the expanse of his arm until finally coming to rest upon the soft smile which graced his features. His was a face that she was unfamiliar with, having not seen him before. Oddly enough, from his fine dress Helena could deduct that he was not a labourer or physician, nor did he look akin to any of the other well-intentioned volunteers who were littered about the tent. Still, in a time such as this one, Helena felt blind to identity, simply grateful for the aid she was receiving.
She responded to his smile with a thankful smile of her own, reaching up to take the implement from his hand, “Exactly what I had needed. Thank you.”
Helena turned to her patient once again whose weeping did not cease, but at the very least it seemed hysteria no longer possessed her. The healer took the young woman’s hand into hers, in part to provide comfort but the arm was to remain steady as Helena worked. She placed a bowl beneath the patient’s arm to catch the biological waste. However, these things were hardly ever tidy.
She peered over her shoulder at the man, her eyes flitting to and fro between him and her patient. “Are you here to volunteer?” She asks him while lowering the implement against the worst of the blistering. It was unnaturally swollen, but this meant that all she required was a small incision to break through the thin layer of skin. “I should hope you have a strong stomach.”
It was all the warning she would give before piercing the bloated sack of flesh. As she predicted, the fluids rushed to the opening. Helena became victim to the unfortunate splash of puss and blood which followed, the fluid bespattering her clothing, but simply waited as the watery substance continued to drain from the wound and into the bowl. When the worst of it was over, Helena used a damp cloth to clean the area surrounding the mess. She would need to work fast, noting that her patient’s face turned a ghostly pale.
“Will you hand me that gauze and vessel of salve?” She requested, head motioning to the items she desired. Helena looked him up and down. He may have looked to be a member of the upper class, but competent nonetheless. “Have you ever bandaged an arm?”
Fotios smiled kindly as the woman took from him the utensil she required for the poor woman she was attending to. He watched momentarily as she handled herself carefully and with competence, ensuring the woman's arm was held just right and that the blistering that needed to be rectified hovered above a bowl she carefully placed beneath.
As Head of the Leventi household, Fotios had never been encouraged to study medicine or any other knowledge pertaining to that of a physician. He had, however, a photographic memory and an insatiable desire to learn as much as you could - about everything - which was what made him so good at his job when he had been appointed as Master Informer. Now, he used his skills in the Senate and through his wife in the Court, but either way, the desire was still prevalent and poignant in his life. Books had become his answer and his salvation, allowing him to immerse himself in new information on an almost constant basis.
And many of those books had been dedicated to science, to anatomy and to the human body at large.
Besides that, he would have had to be a fool not to realize what was about to happen when the woman impaled her patient's arm with the implement he had handed her. Anyone knew what happened when you burst a water skin that was too full.
And so, he was careful to step out of the range of fire when the action was administered.
The female physician was less lucky and was splattered slightly with a foul-smelling pus that had been released upon her ministrations. To the woman's credit, she did nothing for her own appearance until she had corrected and adjusted the woman's arm, dealing with her patient before herself.
After she had found a moment to dab at her own clothing, she then requested gauze and salve from him.
Unused to being requested for anything Fotios, reacted simply and follow her instructions, producing the items that she needed. When she asked him if he had ever bandaged an arm before and if he was here to volunteer, he could only smile slightly - almost to himself - for it was clear she had no idea who he was.
He decided to keep it that way.
"I thought it my duty to be present and offer whatever aid I could to help the cause..." He told her, every word that left his mouth true to a fault. "I was not at the circus when the fire was started and the attacks were made... I wanted to at least do my part now..."
Stepping forward, perhaps a little too close into the physician’s personal space, Fotios only did so in order to take hold of the patient's arm, while the other woman worked the salve he had passed to her into her skin.
"Allow me..." He told her with a calm, confident and quite tone about him, as she finished her application of the tonic and took up the wrap of gauze. Taking hold of the woman's arm with his long fingers and slim hands, Fotios was careful to avoid the painful skin and then took the roll of gauze he was handed by the physician.
As she held the end of the fabric in place, ready to have the other end meet it at the end of his ministrations, Fotios carefully wrapped the sheeting around the woman's arm.
"This will sting but it will be over quickly." He tried to comfort her, as he worked.
With the actions of a physician - as in, he was merciless to the woman's whimpers of discomfort, knowing that a tighter and faster-applied bandage would work better for her in the long run - Fotios wrapped and tightened as quickly and efficiently as he could. His attention to detail and his fastidious accuracy in what he was doing, ensured that the bandage was carefully woven around the limb.
As he worked his way back up her arm in order to make the end he held meet that which the physician still pinned in place, he allowed his fingertips to linger over the smoothness of her hand as he passed the fabric back to her. He then smiled shyly and took a step back to allow her space to tie off the bandage.
As she finished her work, Fotios was genuine in his compliments...
"Your hands seem far too delicate for the work they do Madam Physician..." he told her, a smile in his words. "And yet they complete their work better than any man I have witnessed attending to the task..."
The movement of her hands was mostly by muscle memory after a time spent doing the work. Sara was busy wondering what might have happened to her family if things had turned out differently a few nights prior. What if Achilleas had been injured? Emilios? Her father? Such grim thoughts were unusual for her as she tended to stick to trying to see the positive in any situation.
Then the periphery motion of others bowing and shifting around her caught Sara's attention and she blinked away the reverie of dismay to find her father moving towards her with a lady in tow. Sara wasn't immediately sure of her as Irakles' physique dwarfed the other woman but she found it to be a vaguely familiar face. As she was not permitted into Court without an escort Sara found it difficult to place everyone's faces or at least recognize them at once.
"Your Majesty." Sara said as her father drew near with features attentive and interested in what he had to say even if he delivered his orders as if she were a servant. Sara didn't mind and gave him a smile in return to acknowledge his command, blue eyes moving to the young lady he was referring to and she inclined her head. "My Lady." The young woman said and straightened. With her gaze moving over the other's chiton she spotted the offending stain immediately. When the Lady moved closer to her Sara finished sorting the bandage in her grasp and then grinned at the comment about pins.
"Of course, My Lady. Please follow me." She said, and stepped out of the way of those working in the tent before leading her towards the house proper.
Sara cast a sidelong look at the shorter woman. Evangelina was beautiful and the younger lady found herself wanting to touch her hair with it's interesting colors. The impulse wasn't entirely strange to her but still she resisted, fingers clasping in front of her as she walked and smiled at familiar faces in the halls on their way towards her quarters. "It's just here." Came a soft murmur and then she stepped around a corner and opened the door to her chambers. Pistos, her guardian mastiff lifted his head at her entrance and looked from Sara to the interloper but a quick read of Sara's relaxed body language meant the large dog was lowering his head back down to rest and letting out a sigh of disinterest.
"So dramatic." Sara muttered and smiled at the animal before stepping to her wardrobe and beginning to pull out the mourning garments she had been given. There was one in here that she'd worn a few years ago when she was several inches shorter. "I think I have something closer to the right length back here." She said and dug through the fine fabric in a gentle manner.
For her part, Evangelina would find Sara's room tidy for the most part. There were sketches piled high, bowls with paints, an easel with a half-finished sunset or sunrise. Several other finished paintings leaned against a far wall on display. A marketplace scene, a detailed depiction of a ship in port, and of course the lovely Pistos who was dozing in a meadow. Though there was an area that her mother Meena had demanded be reserved for the jewels her father paid for it was not prominent and on display but instead on a table surrounded by the paintings. It was clear where her interest and passion lay to anyone who glimpsed her private quarters. Along with the jewels was a small section for preferred perfumes and bathing oils.
"Here!" Sara exclaimed, the sound muffled by the fabrics around her and she stepped back, moving towards where Evangelina stood and unfolding the chiton. "I think we will still need pins but fewer of them, at least." She said, holding the thing up so she could see. "If My Lady approves?"
The soft formality with which the young woman addressed her father only accentuated the gruffness of his earlier words to his daughter. How did His Highness manage to keep such a distance? Why did His Highness keep such a cold distance? Maybe that was a better question. Curiosity was often the fatal flaw of the miniature Leventi. It was a bit of an obsession to know why things were done the way they were done. What made up a person’s motivations and actions? Motivations, actions, reactions… they were all entwined. The mystery of it all produced an insatiable curiosity.
She watched quietly as Sara finished sorting the bandage and smiled. She’s too sweet for court, Evie thought before returning the smile and followed Lady Sara. One arm covering her bust and the other lifting her dark chiton to pull it out of the way. Maneuvering around those working in the tent. She cast one last glance her uncle. He looked quite engaged in his conversation. Good. Bringing her gaze back to Sara, she caught the sidelong look and she offered an acknowledging smile. Evie had to catch herself from saying that this wasn’t a common occurrence but the truth was… things like this happened to her quite frequently.
“It’s just here.”
They had worked their way through the various halls that led to Lady Sara’s chambers. Stepping around the corner, Evie dropped her hand away from her bust and glanced down at the damage she’d done. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, it wouldn’t stain so that was a win in Evie’s books. Looking up she came to a halt at the giant mastiff staring at her.
“So dramatic.”
The muttered words brought a grin to Evie’s mouth. As the dog dropped it head back to the floor and Sara stepped around, Evie knelt down and offered her hand to the dog. One of these days, that was how she was probably going to die. Petting something she shouldn’t. It couldn’t be helped. If it was possible Evie’s approval rating of Sara had risen quite a bit higher from the dog’s approval of his master.
“My gods! Who is this beasty?!” Evie laughed. “Say it’s your right to be dramatic… right?” Her words had dropped an octave as she spoke to the dog. “We are interrupting a very crucial nap! Guard dogs need their naps. Sleepiness isn’t productive to guarding, is it?” If horses weren’t readily available for Evie she was certain that she’d have a pack full of dogs following at her heels wherever she went. Finishing up, talking to the dog she cooed to him about what a good boy he was and rose up to step around him, leaving him to rest in peace. Dogs like horses couldn't lie.
Rising back to her feet, she took in her first real glance of the room. The tidiness was something she was sure Byrony longed for from Evie. The disorder seemed to lie in the sketches piled high and bowls of paint set. Biting her lip, she glanced down at a passing pile of sketches and wished she’d been more artistically gifted. Evie could sing prettily enough but she’d never been able to play an instrument or sketch the world. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to paint a world you wished you saw?
Unlike some ladies, Evie bypassed the small section of jewels without even glancing at them. They held little interest to her too. Moving over towards the paintings she paused in front of the ship in port and tilted her head as she took in the details.
“I am so envious of you. These are stunning and the level of detail is quite spectacular.” She called out as Sara shuffled through fabrics, seeming to look for something in particular. Reaching out she touched it the painting, “Makes me want to just sail away and see what the rest of the world is like.” “Here!”
Evie’s attention came back to the here and now and smiled warmly as she stepped over to stand near Sara as she unfolded the chiton. “The fewer pins the better. It’s lovely and really, thank you for your kindness. I’ll make sure it’s returned you as soon as possible.” Her fingers began to untie the cord of her chiton unabashedly, glancing over to Sara she offered another thankful smile and turned away as she pulled the garment over her head. For someone with no more experience than she had, Evie wasn’t that inhibited by her body.
“Well, I’ve deduced that you like dogs and that you are artistic, and… you notice details.” Evie still shielding as much of herself as she could and still reach out to take the clean chiton and grinned cheekily. “If you tell me you like horses too then I am afraid you have a new friend whether you want one or not.”
Despite the way her father treated her in public - not doting and not attentive but not neglecting either - Sara always felt a fondness for him that she'd never spoken about with anyone. Meena, her mother, was always so disappointed in her. Harping on her about being more deceitful or mastering the finer points of political intrigue. Sara did her best to please her parents and knew she fell short of their expectations. Wasn't that the fate of most children, though?
The young woman hadn't second guessed leaving Pistos and the Lady Evangelina to get to know one another. The mastiff was trained well and could sense her discomfort around certain people. The warning usually started with a direct stare and raising his tail. Then a growl, then a little show of his teeth, and so on and so forth. It was a process. None of which Pistos displayed at the Lady. Instead he yawned rather pointedly when she mentioned a nap and allowed her to pet him. Regal and benevolent, he was.
"Thank you, my Lady." Sara said while shuffling the shorter chiton in her hands. "The classes are quite rigorous but my teachers always recommend practice outside of the scholeio. To be honest those words are what I rely on to escape to the market or the port or hillside. It's an easy explanation, you see." Sara said and grinned. It wasn't a lie and the Gods knew that she struggled with lying something desperate. Her feelings were always written all over her face. Another thing her mother found disappointing. Soon enough she'd half turned and averted her gaze to allow the shorter woman the benefit of some privacy.
"Horses! I love them. I wish I spent more time with them but my mother.." Sara trailed a little and shook her head once. Meena had drawn the line at Pistos. Horses were for travel only and otherwise were mindless beasts. Secretly Sara spent the time that Meena was in Court to sneak down to the stables and interact with the horses but admitting that to the Lady Evangelina seemed silly. "Do you spend much time with them, my Lady?"
Sara turned away once the other woman had taken the chiton entirely from her hands and moved back to her wardrobe to fetch some of the pins she'd mentioned. Perhaps a belt as well.. Sara frowned a bit at the thought wondering what she might have available. It wasn't often she ruffled around in here and her mother insisted on replacing or renewing the stuff as often as possible to keep in fashion. A ridiculous notion really when she preferred the type of practical clothing that she did. Soon enough she turned holding a few in her hands and moved over towards the other young woman, holding them up and giving her a smile. With only a momentary pause for consideration Sara moved to place the pins so that the fabric fell in a flattering way - and did not drag on the ground behind Evangelina.
"I believe I have a belt somewhere, my Lady, should you require it." Sara said while finishing up.
Disappointment was an old and intimate friend of Evangelina’s. Her own parents hid it well but the constant reminder of what was expected of her lingered everywhere, taunting and reminding Evie of her flaws and failures. It wasn’t just one big flaw or fatal failure, but simply a thousand tiny, indistinguishable ones. It’d made her a bit of an expert at keeping a perfect little smile on her face even when the world was crumbling at her feet. What else was she supposed to do? Sob? She wasn’t even entirely sure if she knew how deep the knife of disappointment was buried in her. Those moments of familiar darkness and melancholy dripping out like water from a fist tightening around it.
It was a boon on her part, for every time she was knocked down for one reason or another she picked herself back up. Dusted herself off. And flung herself headfirst into the middle of whatever had knocked her down to begin with. She had the mental fortitude of an ox and the self-preservation of a street rat. After all, she was a Leventi, and the worthy shall inherit, no?
‘Thank you, my Lady.’
Compliments didn’t fall from her lips that often and only falsely when she was cornered and left with no other options before her. The workings in her mind began to turn as she considered if Sara would do a commission of Altair for her. Altair was only beautiful in his imperfections but something told her that Sara could depict that beauty in her paintings.
‘The classes are quite rigorous but my teachers always recommend practice outside of the scholeio. To be honest those words are what I rely on to escape to the market or the port or hillside. It’s an easy explanation, you see.’
Evie blinked a couple of times then a throaty laugh escaped.
“A devious mind lurks behind pretty eyes…” She returned with a wide grin of approval on her lips. It didn’t surprise her that the girl in front of her manipulated situations to aid in her own desires. If it was possible the girl rose a few more pegs in Evie’s mind. Cloying sweetness was irksome - sweetness needed just a hint of salt to be fully appreciated.
Evie slipped the chiton onto her lean-muscled, softly petite frame. The chiton wasn’t an exact fit but probably the closest they were going to find in sizes between them. It wasn’t quite as fitted as her previous one and it was just a little long but those were things that could be remedied. Nimble fingers worked on fastening the clasps of the chiton and their conversation steered to horses. The wide grin softened in understanding as she spoke of her mother, Sara didn’t have to explain. She knew how many people felt about the creatures but they simply did not know what she did. The ideology that they were mindless beasts for travel or sport was the ideology of fools.
‘Do you spend much time with them, my Lady?’
The question drew her back and she smiled again. “Yes, my family would say I am a bit obsessed… but they are my paint brushes… or maybe clay. They are my clay.” Finishing clasping the clasps as Sara dug back through her wardrobe. Evie let her eyes wander to the wardrobe noting it had been updated to recent fashions and colors. Noting that the girl’s jewelry collection occupied a small, tucked away area it left her to think maybe the clothes were another manipulation of Meena’s rather than Sara’s. Dropping her dark eyes to the chiton, she ran her hands over the fabric feigning interest in straighten it. She wasn’t extremely familiar with Meena, but if what she was learning from and about Sara said anything she doubted she’d care much for that… that… that woman. That thought was followed by an inner indignant sniff. The woman sounded like trouble.
Sara popped back up in front of her with pins in her hand jolting Evie from her thoughts about Meena. She returned the smile with one of her own and reached for the pins except that Sara was already moving and placing them. Evie giggled then as Sara occupied herself catching the fabric in a flattering position. Evie didn’t bother with that on most days. Maybe it was the artist coming out in Sara. She thought artists saw things differently than most people did, differently then she did. They saw colors and lines, shadows and aura that most did not. They could create where there was nothing. Evie wished she was an artist. She wanted to create beautiful things…
When the last pin went in, Evie was looking down at the chiton in surprise. She wasn’t sure what to say, so she just stared down at the chiton. Eat your heart out Aphrodite! I’ve got a bust too! Who knew?! She was going to have to remember to start pinning things in place. The look of surprise transformed into glee. “I don’t know how you did that but you are the Queen of Pins. I am not sure I need a belt, but I completely relinquish control to you. Should we add a belt?”
Sara and Evangelina went back and forth for a few more minutes on whether they should or shouldn’t add a belt. Finally, they opted for no. In short, Evie wanted to keep things simple… in reality, she hoped she could keep up with the dress long enough to see it returned to Sara and preferred not to have to keep up with a belt as well. She paused, checking herself in the mirror again and still couldn’t remember quite believe that there were curves, albeit soft ones, to her form. When had she gotten them? And for Aphrodite’s sake, why hadn’t she shown them off?
She thanked Prince Irakles’ daughter for the umpteenth time. Maybe, when things calmed down a friendship would bloom between them. She said her farewell to Pistos and returned to the courtyard the same way she’d come. This time there wasn’t any avoiding being seen, no shadow to hide behind.
Grasping the black fabric, she picked her him up just a bit to free her steps up as she walked onward. She’d grab some more of the honey and herb balm she’d brought and pick up where she’d left off. Maybe her uncle Fotios hadn’t seen her? Then again… he didn’t miss much.
"Mother," A whine could be heard from one of the bedrooms upstairs in the Leventi Mansion located in the Taengea Quarters. "I feel for the wounded, I really do, but why can't Imma do it?"
"She's with Theodora," The reply was curt, dismissive almost. "Besides, a little fresh air won't harm you. You've been in this room for almost two days now, you haven't broken fast, you don't come out of your-"
"Mother, I'm in mourning!" An exasperation, a chair is dragged across the floor followed by footsteps. "Pia was attacked and we've lost our King and Crown Prince, and I was- we were so close to being targeted!"
"Nana..." A deep sigh, before two sharp snaps echoed in the room. "Girls, dress my daughter and escort her to the Mikaelidas mansion." A beautiful woman in her mid-forties exits the room, her dark hair in a braid like a thick black rope and her eyes flickering towards the passing slaves as if to hurry them with their task, and with that she disappeared down the staircase.
The young whiny woman who was also in the room was beautiful too, except for the arched eyebrows and childish pout that was etched on her fair features. She allowed the slaves to dress and bathe her, only if she offered them the produce in which to bathe her in. The products were something she was able to 'craft' by just placing random fruits or vegetables together, mostly strawberries which was her favorite fruit. The leaves on top of a strawberry was not to be wasted, the lady benefited from it. The 'tops' as it was called was used to enhance any refreshment she deemed 'dull', and to nimble on whenever time calls for it. Roses was her primary scent to pick, especially rose water which she orders the slaves to bathe her in.
Fresh and heavily scented, her hair was tied in a braid and properly set over her left shoulder with a Unicorn hairpin clipped to the end, the Leventi House sigil worn, proudly displaying the blonde tuff of her hair like a mare's tail. The slaves gathered a long chiffon that displayed the same shade of purple as the hairpin, carefully wrapping it around her slim body, tightening the belt in hopes that it won't fall off due to her thin figure. With tan sandals tied on, the lady, Nana Leventi, was prepared.
As she and the serfs walked down the staircase, they were met by her mother again who handed each slave a book except for one. "Now try to smile, but not too much," The woman instructed, opening a book and placing a scroll between the pages. "And try to be entertaining, we wouldn't want the children to flee out of boredom." Stories were done orally in all of Greece, yet Nana knew none to recite from memory. There were some about the time she bought a brooch, and the time she attempted to dye her mare Reathea with Imma's help... Hopefully her mother wrote those down!
"Yes mother," It was clear that the vapid Leventi would rather mourn in her room, she was attached to the mansion and only left for formal occasions, although there was court to consider, she was still quite the Mansion's recluse.
"Off you go then!" With a determined smile, Evelli sent her daughter and the slaves away from the mansion.
Once she was kicked out, Nana looked back at the large doors with a small frown before swiftly turning around and eyeing each of the slaves that carried the books. Being kicked out of the Mansion by force brought many unfortunate memories to the forefront, causing her to snatch each book from the serfs. "Give me that." Without protest, she wrapped her hands around the spare book and yanked it from one of the women's arms before hugging it to her own chest. The supposed memories were suppressed out of mere embarrassment, thinking about the girl she was before, disgusted her to her small core. And now that images of her parading around the home voluntarily filthy made her wrinkle her nose in disgust and prompt herself to walk over to the Mikaelidas location to get everything over with so she could return home and bemoan.
Still, it wouldn't help her case if she lurked around with a frown on her face, plus her uncle was there. Lord Fotios wasn't as terrifying as everyone made him out to be, he was just a grunting grouch! He did garner attention because he ruled their House, unfortunately his attire was never on point. Lady Eirini was able to outdress him at all times, it was no wonder he was a grouch. Perhaps he needed a transformation, and maybe others including her relatives and possibly sisters wouldn't be afraid of him. A smile graced her lips as she realized that she may outdo the House Head in clothing alone, and with that, her slow amble became a successful strut.
Strutting over the dust path that led to the mansion owned by the prestigious Mikaelidas, Nana of Leventi tilted her chin upward and waited for one of the guards to open the gates. The gates were wide open, but not wide enough for one that carried three books with scrolls contained within the pages. A small scoff emitted from her throat, directed towards the guards. Both of them turned towards her, one even tilted their head to welcome her inside. She still stood in her spot, her arms wrapped around the books, waiting for them to widen the gap, they remained in their spot. Silence with the exception of the sounds of tearing bandages and loud grunts surrounds the air as they all stared at each other, until a guard broke his silence.
"Welcome, my lady."
Nana still stood there, lips pursed, waiting. One of her slaves, gently nudged her to the gates and she reluctantly moved her feet and easily slid between the 'small' gate gap with absolutely no trouble. Strong smells of salve and dried blood overwhelmed her rose-scented person, yet she still flashed another smile and kept moving. She noticed familiar faces such as her uncle who was speaking to a woman who surprisingly blended in well with his uninspiring attire, and the Prince Irakles who had just lost his brother and nephew. Nana could certainly feel his pain, it was like getting one's hair cut for the first time or balding, tragic really... Looking around, she was relieved that she wouldn't be volunteering to tend to wounds. Reading to wounded children didn't sound so awful by now,
And then her eyes landed on- "Evangelina!" The insensitive woman took her times to slowly stride over to her cousin, holding onto the long dress of her dark purple chiffon so it wouldn't catch any dirt. "I'm happy to see you here, oh, the smell--" Turning to the side, she dropped the books into the nearest slave's hands and waved her hands over her face. "Oh my-- the poor things... Hm, will you be reading to the children as well?"
The Gods had taken mercy on Evangelina’s sanity. She had somehow managed to make it all the way back to the scribe’s table without crossing paths with Fotios. The scribe passed her a bashful smile that caused his fluffy cheeks to redden. It was an odd look on a man that’d met his prime a decade ago. It didn’t stop Evie from returning the small, stiff smile, out of politeness.
Not waiting another moment, she snatched the basket with jars of balm that she’d been carrying around earlier to administer aid with and quickly disappeared away from him and his almost hopeful smiles and adoring eyes. Why did she always attract the weird ones?
A hand reached out grasping her by the wrist, pulling her to a stop. A squeak echoed out of her and she was prepared to send a left hook into the vexation that had grabbed her when she remembered where she was.
“Mada….” The man’s voice was raw, hoarse from the smoke he’d ingested. She bent a little closer so he didn’t have to try as hard to speak. “Madam…” He had her title wrong but under the circumstances, she supposed it could be overlooked. There was something desperate in his gaze, perhaps wild. Wrenching her arm free before she tucked his arm back to his chest and gave it a small pat.
“Sir, you should just sit there and rest. I’ll find someone who…” She tried to speak but the man’s arm was grabbing at her wrist once more. “Madam… The fire… The fire…” His voice croaked in delirious desperation. Evangelina pulled her arm free again, once more trying to tuck his arm in. “Sir, please! I’ll find a healer but you must rest.” She tried to sound more insistent but the more she tried to calm him the more he seemed to work himself up.
“I saw them…” The man began that racking cough again, this time a bit of phlegm working out of the corner of his mouth. His dark hair dirty and sticking in every direction, he looked like the sort of man to be found lying in pig filth after several days of overindulgence in the local tavern. Recoiling, Evangelina’s dark eyes widened as he continued. “I saw ‘em, I tell ya!”
Was he crazy? Drunk? What was wrong with him?
He jolted up into sitting position, grasping her arm again and shaking her with a strength she wouldn’t have expected from him.
“Sir! Calm down. You are safe.” She growled lowly at him. He was doing enough to draw attention to them. “No, no… we aren’t I saw them….” He gasped, trying to will away the coughing fit that was coming again. “They ain’t human.” His will lost as another fit of coughs shook him. “Red… They had red eyes and no faces…”
Taking the moment to step out of his reach, Evangelina took another step backward and this time felt the back of her legs hit another cot but the woman in it had already vacated it with the man’s shrieking. The man was out of his mind spouting nonsense about witchcraft and otherworldly beings with no faces and red eyes.
‘Evangelina.’ The familiar voice was so calm considering the man who was hacking his insides up in front of her.
Her head jerked towards the voice and her eyes widened even more as the most unlikely person to find here had just joined them. Nana. She didn’t have time to answer the silly questions that shot out of her cousin’s mouth before her gaze was drawn back to the man now scrambling out of his cot, crab walking backward shrieking. His index finger pointing wildly at Nana, his bloodshot eyes focused on her yet not seeing her either.
“They are here. Can’t you see them… they are comin’ to get me cause I saw them… I know what they did.” He crashed into something as he tried to escape. Evangelina darted after him, “Sir, there is no one here after you. That’s just Lady Nana… I promise… She’s quite human.” Evangelina tried to soothe, but the man had gone past the point of being calmed back down. Her eyes darted around looking for help… why were the weird ones always attracted to her? The only bright side to all of this was… at least it was her that he was screaming at for being of the otherworlds.
It was all happening quicker than Evangelina could handle… the man had backed himself into a corner and… where had he gotten those shears?
Evangelina edged closer, speaking to him in the same tone she would a spooked horse. “Sir, please… put those shears down. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone. I promise we won’t let anything happen to you…” Only time would tell if her words would work or more forceful measures would have to be taken...
Evangelina seldom seemed thrilled to see her which caused her to feel a bit dejected, perhaps it was because they wore the same chiton- no, not that; her cousin's was pitch black in color, as if she were mourning for someone she lost. Well no wonder for the sour attitude! Nana never took her spirited cousin for one who would pay her respects to the falling monarchs, she would don her blacks for a dying Leventi stallion before doing so for a dead human. The naive Leventi wore black for a week and stayed occupied herself in her room with prayer, and by prayer, it meant spreading oils over her body and spacing out about the possibilities of the Greed? Creed? Breed? The cloaked figures taking her and all of her sisters alongside Olympia at knifepoint, of course most of them would surround her because she was well-dressed during the event. Still, at least her mourning period was appropriate at a greater extent, unlike her cousin's who misguided as she was, she held dear.
As she turned away from Evie, all eyes were on them. Nana flashed yet another smile and waved, feeling accomplished about her choice in aiding her slaves into helping enhance her beauty but it wasn't her that they had her eyes on. A threatening finger pointed towards her, owned by an unkempt and delirious looking man. The woman of twenty years tilted her head in mild confusion, was there something on her chiton? Belt? Oh by the gods, hopefully she hasn't managed to step into the healing salves or balms that loitered around the tent! As she tilted her head down to look at her dress, a rather frightening accusation was directed towards her in spite.
“They are here. Can’t you see them… they are comin’ to get me cause I saw them… I know what they did.”
And with that, Nana slowly yet gracefully raised her head. Her eyes widened, taken aback by the outburst, but clearly appearing afraid all the same. But was it fright that marked her features?
Oh no...
He couldn't have seen her, could he? It was a swift grab, swift even for the likes of a lady who enjoyed taking things slowly. It was a beautiful necklace, a silver chain with a medium sized diamond gem at the end... the most beautiful that stood out around all of the chariot racers and hardworking horses. And it also matched her earrings- oh, she put it back during the wreckage, she pulled away from Selene fast enough to toss it over the deflated tent where the merchant once stood. Whatever the delirious man tried to say, he was all the more wrong. It isn't a crime to borrow, plus the merchant might not have remembered, for he carried other wares but none as beautiful as the diamond. That reminded her, did she even toss the necklace...?
Evangelina tried calming the man down with her words, even dashed over to him as he attempted to hastily depart. The twenty one year old wanted to walk away from the situation and look for the children she was supposed to be reading to, but it would make her look suspicious. Everyone's eyes were locked onto her and they looked to be in need of convincing that she was hardly a thief. Biting her lower lip, she grabbed her chiton dress skirts and beckoned the slaves to follow her as she slowly jogged at her cousin's heels.
He equipped a pair of shears, pointing them at Nana and her slaves. Cowering behind her cousin sounded like the best solution, but the people! With a shake of her braid, she closely examined the man. His hair stuck in all directions was mattered, tanned spittle hung at the corner of his lips, and his clothes were tattered and covered in filth. And that's when, the woman knew his exact reason for such theatrics. In exchange for assuming she stole, he wanted a full transformation. Dear, he could just ask like any normal Taengean!
"Oh dearest, I know just the thing you're after!" She exclaimed with a grin, her hand waving towards her slaves in utter excitement. "You, find the best chair for him, you can carry all of my books, you find a clean blanket, and you... you can, just stay here and look charming. He will receive the best haircut in all of Taengea and I won't accept any less."
As the slave girls departed with their orders, Nana turned towards Evie, her back towards everyone. "Evie, dearest~!" To call her cousin by her nickname was rare, it even sounds foreign on her own tongue. Albeit the screams from the man, she still flipped her golden braid way from the side of her neck before grabbing her hands. "Since you're the best at dealing with our challenged horses, well..." Leaning in, she lowered her voice in a whisper. "I'd like for you to help me with his appearance, unfortunately there aren't many able men here, wouldn't want to bother the Lords." Speaking of able men and lords, the Leventi and Mikealidas Lord's were nowhere in sight, at least to the oblivious one anyway. "I mean I would do it all by myself but, I have just taken a bath not too long ago and well... I'd hate to mess anything up." Squeezing Evie's hands in reassurance she waited for a 'yes'. "I'd let you use my all of my chitons that you're desperately in need of," With a brief look over Evie, she smiled again. "The one you're wearing is half-way decent." They could talk of chitons all they'd like, but there was a desperate man who was ready to spill her secret. Releasing her cousin's hands, her gaze shifted to two male volunteers. Eyes a flutter, she rested her fingers on her cheek before soliciting a demand. "The man is dangerous, can you strapping young men hold him down for us?" She didnt have to say 'please' as the men ran over as requested, the crazed men lunged forward and scrapped a volunteer's arm with the tip of the shears. Despite the slight wince, the man made a slow grab for it and wrestling for the weapons commence.
Impatient, she inquired her cousin. "So, how about a yes~?"
He watched out of the corner of his eye as Sara led the Lady Evangelina into the Mikaelidas mansion, and then headed over to where the more seriously wounded was tended to by the senior healers. Noting down what was necessary, Irakles was quick to summon over a slave or two, approving a sum of gold to be used to purchase the necessary salves and extra wrappings needed to form bandages, before going to where the kitchen staff stood waiting at the doorsteps.
Nodding, his servants worked quickly to distribute the fresh water that Irakles had ensured was stocked up for the day. Fresh hot rolls were also brought out to supply any of the commoners whose houses and supplies of victuals were destroyed. With the market in Taengea still slow to reopen, food and drink has been difficult to procure, so Irakles had done his best to see if he could provide for them for now.
As he strode with a watchful eye to ensure all the provisions were distributed evenly, a sudden commotion at the door made him look up, just in time to see the entrance of a Lady Nana who... looked entirely too well made up for a service such as this. The old general raised an amused brow, wondering at why exactly had a girl like Nana of Leventi arrive at such an event. Not one to question however, Irakles simply made a note to ask Fotios in regards to his niece later, before returning to the task at hand.
He had not had the chance to go much further however, when a sudden commotion made all his military senses go on high alert. Pivoting on his feet, the sharp eyes of the general was quick to catch the deranged looking man who now advanced on Lady Evangelina who was slowly backing away from him. It was unfortunate that Lady Nana had chosen to join her cousin just at that moment, but Irakles was now more concerned with the man shrieking wildly, the bloodshot eyes clearly obvious to all that he was not in his right mind.
Irakles had left his battle axe in his room, and with no time to grab it, he abandoned the maids who had been distributing victuals. His guards were quick to rush forward, but instead of surrounding him, Irakles flicked his wrist, a silent command for them to head towards the two ladies in need of assistance instead.
Yet halfway in their dash, with Irakles jogging behind in close pursuit, the men drew up short when Lady Nana suddenly exclaimed with a grin, her hands waving in a form of excitement which Irakles could not seek the reason for. Was she not frightened in the face of the man brandishing the shears? Blinking, Irakles was momentarily frozen by the sheer surprise of the way Nana was behaving... yet the old general was quick to see an opportunity. Whether it was intentional or not, Irakles saw the confusion in the previously deranged man - any opportunity was well taken at this point.
Just as Nana instructed the male volunteers, Irakles's men themselves surged the last few feet forward. Between the five of them, they managed to wrangle the shears away from the crazy man who kept repeating words of having seen 'them', even as he was getting overpowered by the well trained guards of Mikaelidas, and eventually brought away.
Following behind, the Head jogged over, his features a picture of concern as he dipped his head to the two ladies. His lips tightening in a worried line, Irakles kept a safe distance, but his baritone was deep with worry as he asked "I do hope you two ladies are unharmed. My deepest apologies for that to have happened on my grounds. Perhaps I could escort you to our sitting rooms for a reprieve after that scare?"
If this man was anything to go by, horses were easier than people to communicate with. She’d stopped trying to convince him with words but rather the soft, sweet nothings she spoke of. Her quiet, throaty voice reassuringly tried to drown out the world for him. She’d successfully managed to block everything out of her own mind, her focus singled solely on the delirious man.
For a moment, the briefest of moments Evangelina thought he was going to put the shears down. That moment imploded though as there was a shriek behind her breaking her concentration from the man. For the first time, she noticed Prince Irakles guards moving in around her and Nana.
Oh dearest, I know just the thing you’re after!
Evie’s dark doe eyes blinked at her cousin. She did? Nana’s voice grew excited and her hands began to wave about as she started issuing orders in a way that a General could appreciate. She demanded a chair and a blanket. Evie wasn’t sure where this was going until…
...just stay here and look charming. He’ll receive the best haircut in all of Taengea and I won’t accept any less.
Recovering quickly, she spotted Prince Irakles staring at Nana like he’d seen a mythical unicorn and wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cuddle it or kill it. It was at that unfortunate moment an inappropriate giggle bubbled out of her. In an attempt at disguising the giggle, she feigned a cough into her hand and looked away as she shielded the amused sparkle in her gaze. When she looked back at Irakles, she shrugged as if she had no idea what Nana was talking about… or where that had come from.
Gods! The look on his face had been priceless. I get it though. It wasn't the first time someone looked at Nana that way. Nana was a dirty little Leventi secret. Sweet-natured and naive. Her cousin hadn’t always been this way. Nana lived in a glass house that she’d built for herself. One of these days, those walls were going to tumble down around her feet. Evie was waiting for that day. Maybe then she and Nana could actually have a conversation and begin to mend some old wounds between the two. Until then… she’d simply have to remember the day that Nana’s nonsense had stopped Prince Irakles.
Irakles men surged forward and out of instinct and Evie lurched forward to aid. Strong arms caught her by the waist pulled her back away from the scuffle. Some ran away from a fight, and then there were some who were quick to leap into the middle of scuffles. Stomping on the foot of the guard, she tried to shake loose to no avail.
“Just let me go… I can…” She snapped, trying to jerk away from the guard. “My lady, the prince has it handled.” The guard tersely replied. Evangelina watched them wrestle the man and pluck the shears from him. It all seemed to upset the delirious man all the more. His nonsense became more and more agitated. Evie went limp in the guard’s arms, she couldn’t help him.
The man was picked up and being carried off. Her gaze followed him for a few seconds unable to tear her gaze away. At some point, the guard had released her in silent acknowledgment that she wouldn’t endanger herself. Her attention only seemed to shift back when Prince Irakles dipped his head in front of her and Nana.
Nana.
"Nana? Are you alright?" Her head snapped around to finally check on her cousin again. She relaxed again at the sight of her and turned back to prince.
“There’s no need for apologies, your highness.” Evangelina offered in her sweet nothings tone again. The lines on his face bespoke of his concern. “Try as we might, these things can’t always be prevented.” She was surprisingly collected and composed considering the last few minutes had been spent trying to tear herself away from his guard to jump into the middle of the scuffle for the shears. Clearing her throat softly, she glanced to Nana and frowned before looking back to Prince Irakles. It seemed wrong to walk away from all of this when there was still so much to be done. But, perhaps for the sake of Irakles nerves and Nana it would be best to take a step away from all of this.
Finally, consenting with a single nod of her head she continued. “I... I suppose.” She offered a small faint smile to him and a look from beneath her lashes. “This is the second time today you’ve come to my aid. I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you gave me the boot, your highness. Nana and I’ll have to find a way to make it up to you.”
She’d wait until later to interrogate Nana on where she’d gotten the idea that the man had wanted a haircut. A haircut for Gods’ sakes?!