Chapter Text
“Hurry, take this and go tend to the guests! Go, go,” the head maid, Isidora, ushered a large pitcher of wine into your hands. Her words were stern but still gentle, a byproduct of the highly intense situation. Well, intense for the palace staff at least. A grand banquet was being held for the royal families, aristocrats, and diplomats of Amphoreus, hosted by Lady Aglaea. It was an annual festivity held in the late summer, an opportunity to both strengthen bonds across Amphoreus and subtly negotiate trade before the abundant autumn harvest. As one of the personal handmaids to the sole descendent of Mnestia, you were as close as any outsider could be to the almost silly reality of the opulence and games of etiquette favoured by the upper echelons. Though it deviated from your typical duties of serving Lady Aglaea directly, it wasn’t your first time serving at such a banquet and your opinions of those attending were still mixed.
There was one person who had made quite the impression on you, however. It was the prophesized Deliverer, the one who would quell the growing struggles for power in Amphoreus. You had become acquainted with Lord Phainon, descendent of Kephale, who had snuck away to explore the palace in a bout of innocent mischief two years ago at the very first banquet you served at. You were returning from fetching a few extra fruits from the garden when you turned a corner and collided with someone. Looking up to see ornate clothes and what you recognized to be the characteristic cerulean eyes of the esteemed ‘Deliverer’ from Aedes Elysiae, you thought it was going to be your last day in the palace. Luckily for you, Phainon had a pleasant demeanor unlike many of the other attendees. That didn’t prevent the string of profuse apologies from escaping your mouth, to which he made you an offer. In exchange for accepting your apology, you would give him a tour of the palace garden you were returning from. After explaining the situation to the head maid and being relieved of your duties temporarily, as outlandish as it was, you held up your end of the deal. Since then, you two had always managed to rendezvous at some point during the course of any ornate gathering hosted in Okhema.
“Are your ears stuffed with cloth? I said go!” Isidora’s tone was markedly less gentle than before to snap you out of your reminiscing.
“Y-yes, right away,” you squeaked, rushing out of the kitchen. The crimson liquid sloshed about in the hefty pitcher as you rushed to tend to the guests. Before entering the room filled with superficial courtesy and restrained conversations, you braced yourself as best you could. Starting with the guests closest to you, you began to make your rounds in a mind-numbing sequence of ‘May I interest you in more wine, my Lord?’s and ‘May I refill your chalice, my Lady?’s. The pitcher in your hand had almost dried, despite the rather plentiful amount of wine it could hold. There was just enough to fill a few half-glasses, alieving you of any distress as you closed in on the last two guests. As if you were a puppet on strings, you repeated the same line once more, “Would you like more wine, my Lords?”
“Only if you’ll grab a chalice and join us.”
Your head snapped up from the modest bowed position it was in. A small huff slipped from between your lips at the teasing remark as you were once again face to face with the white-haired lord. “I’ll do that when dromases fly,” you muttered, mirroring his playful tone. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your response, just as you couldn’t help breaking your meager maid facade in front of one of the very few people you could feel somewhat relaxed around. Unfortunately for you, the fact that it was only one of the people from said group seemed to elude your train of thought. A smile continued to grace your face, but it slowly receded into somewhat of a meek expression. Your gaze shifted to the man standing beside Phainon.
Quite a man indeed. Standing just slightly taller than the leader of Aedes Elysiae, his broad stature was adorned in a luxurious crimson and black fabric that matched the hue of the drink he was cradling. A drink that had seemingly gone untouched. The marks adorning his exposed arm and chests contrasted against his skin in a way that could only be described as otherworldly. Out of all of the nobles and politicians here, he looked like the last one you’d want to get in trouble with. The aureate sheen of his accessories was eye-catching, but nothing compared to his eyes. Something elusive was hidden in the golden rays shimmering in his irises, something peculiar. For now, however, what wasn’t so elusive was the humourless look he was giving Phainon.
“Oh lighten up, Mydeimos,” Phainon nudged him with his elbow, earning a fleeting scowl in response. Mydeimos. As in the ruler of Castrum Kremnos, Mydeimos. Your expression turned even meeker as the fact dawned on you. What a great first impression, you mentally scolded yourself. Trying to salvage the situation, you were about to offer him the remaining wine in your possession; however, it seems he hadn’t so much as taken a sip from his glass. You knew some nobles were not too keen on the drink, yet etiquette suggested to take at least a few small sips when meeting others on occasions such as this.
“Lord Mydeimos, is the wine not to your liking? May I offer something else instead?” you proposed. His eyes lowered to look at you, but not his head, as his visage took on a neutral expression at your question. Or more precisely, at your acute observation.
“It’s fine.” A curt response, yet apt enough to answer both of your questions in two precipitated words. You were dumbstruck for just a brief moment before bowing your head in acknowledgement.
“As you wish, my Lord.” About to take your leave, Phainon caught your eye once more. He nodded towards the door you had entered from, a subtle signal it was time to convene at your agreed spot. You gave a shallow nod as you turned and made haste for the kitchen. Returning the pitcher, you pulled the head maid out of earshot from the other servants. She had already anticipated your need to excuse yourself, just as you had every time a feast of this caliber was hosted. Whether it was her soft-spot for you or you were just utterly dispensable to the staff, Isidora never made a fuss when you needed to be excused on occasions like these.
Whispering a quick word of gratitude, you made your way to the garden. You passed the grand doors that opened into the hall, silken curtains drawn to either side to frame the crowd of splendor and opulence. In your celerity, you neglected to spare a mere glimpse into the extravagant room as you walked by it. For if you had, you would have noticed the stoic eyes trailing your movements.
The heel of your sandals grew increasingly audible as the clamoring of the function faded out. You clicked along the polished palace floors until you reached the grille leading to the garden, already ajar. Slipping past the gate, and being sure to close it this time unlike a certain someone, Phainon waved at you excitedly as you came into his view.
“I was beginning to think you would never come,” he slightly pouted, feigning dejection.
“Please, Lord Phainon. You say that every time we meet here,” you sighed, failing to hide your amusement at his antics.
“Is that right?” he chuckled. “We don’t get the chance to do this very often, you know. I guess I need to come up with better material, hm?”
“Of course, my Lord. How else will you become the greatest comic in all of Amphoreus?” You were struggling to stifle your laughter now, the melodious sound finding harmony with Phainon’s. He felt free, finally able to relax after having escaped the stifling atmosphere of aristocracy mere moments ago. After your laughter settled down, he spoke once more.
“Well, dear (Name), what part of the palace will you show me tonight?” A soft smile lingered on his lips as he asked the most anticipated question of the evening. After all, your initial meeting had resulted in a tour of the palace garden. It was the tradition the two of you had unknowingly created that fateful night of your first meeting. He was always eager to explore another part of the grand Okheman palace and you were happy to oblige as his personal guide.
“Hmm, let me think,” you place a finger on your chin, as if in deep thought. You already had an answer prepared, having mulled it over for days in advance. The garden and the tholos that held council meetings were already excluded from your deliberation. “I’ve got a good one for you today, Lord Phainon. How about we take a look at the guest baths?” Immediately, he perked up with enthusiasm.
“Really? I’ve always heard that nothing beats relaxing in the royal bathhouse of Okhema!”
“There’s no time for bathing, my Lord!” you chastised with false exasperation. “It’s a short walk to the western colonnade. The bathhouse is just at the other end. If we go now, I’m sure you can make it back to the banquet before your presence is missed.”
“Then lead the way!” Slightly bowing your head at the command, you turned on your heel and opened the gate of the garden once more. Despite growing closer with him, your life as a servant had made it impossible for you to treat any of the nobles of Amphoreus as true equals. Though Phainon was understanding of your disposition, he truly hoped you could one day be free of your inhibitions in that regard. Alas, that day was yet to come.
The click of sandals was closely followed by the sound of heavier shoes as the two of you began the brief journey to your coveted destination. Your path took you past the grand double doors of the banquet once more, neither of you breaking stride to observe the predictable happenings taking place in the room. However, the same pair of eyes scrutinized your movements once more, the anomalous sight of the noble from Aedes Elysiae following a handmaid so eagerly capturing the sole observer’s attention.
After exiting the main body of the palace, the cool eve’s air billowed delicately against your cheeks. Despite the rather open concept and spacious accommodations within the building, the endless tasks for the servants was sure to make anyone feel feverish. Relishing the feeling, the end of the colonnade was in sight.
“Here we are, my Lord.” Reaching the entrance first, you pushed the rather lightweight door to make way for your tour. Stepping aside to let Phainon enter, he wore a flabbergasted expression. His mouth left agape, he took a moment to absorb the architectural feat before him.
The sound of water circulating was the only thing that echoed within the bathhouse walls. At each corner of the main bath stood an intricately carved sculpture, the delicate features adorning their serene faces watching water flow from the marble hydriai within their hands. Even the vessels they held between their elegant fingers had been painstakingly engraved with depictions of daily life. As he walked past the elaborate main bath, there were smaller baths behind a row of columns. The gaps were delicately framed by elaborate curtains, their sheerness providing an adequate amount of both visibility and privacy. Each was tended to by a similar marble sculpture, smaller in size but equal in beauty.
Phainon looked back at you in amazement, “You know, I had heard rumours of what the greatest bathhouse in Okhema looked like,” he shook his head in disbelief, “but this is beyond magnificent.”
“Yes, it is quite extravagant,” you agreed, his child-like awe and excitement spreading to you now. “Even if it’s rather laborious to clean, you can’t help but admire the love that was put into every detail.” You stepped closer to the nearest of the four sculptures, running a gentle hand over the divots and details, as Phainon approached the main bath once more.
“Love, huh?” He stood beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t dare expect anything less from the followers of Mnestia. I’ve—”
Creak .
Upon hearing that noise, your heart burst in your chest. It could only have come from the entrance; however, you seemed to be the only one to notice. Phainon continued speaking, but you couldn’t muster the focus to listen to his words. A bitter chill dripped from your shoulders to the tips of your fingers, even running down the back of your maid’s garb. Perhaps this would be your last day in the palace. From where you stood, both you and Phainon were facing away from the door. You did not dare turn around, savouring the moments before whoever had discovered you doled out your punishment.
“So this is what you’ve been getting up to, Deliverer.” The husky tone echoed off the walls as Phainon was finally made aware of the third presence gracing the bathhouse, evident from the way his eyebrows raised and eyes widened at the interruption. Though it was from a mere two words, you discerned the voice as belonging to the greatest warrior of Castrum Kremnos. “Having some secret tryst at the bathhouse?” Your jaw fell slack, aghast at the insinuation. Feeling obligated to defend yourself as well as Phainon, you whirled around to face Mydeimos.
“I apologize if I’m speaking out of line, Lord Mydeimos, but such presumptions are rather unbecoming of a noble such as yourself,” gaze boring directly into his, your voice surprisingly level. Beneath the surface, you wanted to berate him for suggesting your complacency in the supposed philandering taking place. You were still a maiden after all and Phainon was the very image of chivalry. Yet, holding your tongue was the only viable option even in the face of such crass words. Phainon took notice of your soured countenance and promptly broke the growing silence, clearing his throat.
“I think you’ve got the wrong idea, Mydei,” he began, “You know how stuffy those banquets can get. I asked (Name) to be my guide around the palace. She was simply fulfilling my request.” His angular features carried sincerity, shouldering responsibility for the situation at hand. There was a sinking feeling in your chest, at the thought of Phainon bearing the brunt of whatever consequences lay in wait.
“Hmph. My mistake then.” The clinking of metal bounced off of the tiled floors as Mydeimos drew nearer to where the two of you stood. “Very well then. Continue.” Raising your head, you looked up to see Mydeimos standing before you expectantly. All he received in return was your incertitude.
“I’m sorry, Lord Mydeimos?”
“Just Mydei is fine. Surely your amateur tour has room for one more?” A small ‘oh’ escaped your lips, as did Phainon’s. In spite of his rather gruff appearance, there was a sliver of amusement lacing his words. Perhaps you had been a tad hasty in judging his character just moments earlier.
“It seems even the great warrior Mydeimos is rendered powerless in the face of boredom,” the white-haired man jested, much to the chagrin of said warrior.
“Should we put my powerlessness to the test, Deliverer?” His golden eyes narrowed, fists clenched as he stepped towards Phainon who continued to laugh.
“Ah, my Lords, there’s no need for that. Besides, it wouldn’t be much of a contest.” As you spoke, you strolled around the corner of the vast bath. Both men were now giving you their undivided attention, your words too ambiguous to elicit a reaction as of yet.
“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Mydei challenged, holding less contempt in his words when compared to those directed at Phainon. The ends of your mouth were upturned in mirth, as you glanced at him. His stare was fierce, awaiting your answer. The flutter of mischief rippled in your chest at the look.
“I mean that there wouldn’t be much honour in crushing a feeble opponent such as Lord Phainon, yes?” Letting out a quiet chuckle, you took the open opportunity to tease Phainon. The blonde warrior’s ire shifted into smugness at your words, an almost imperceptible puff to his chest accompanying it.
“Hear that, Phainon? Even the handmaids of Mnestia have more wisdom than you,” he laughed right in his opponent’s face. An internal debate on whether that was an unintentional insult to you began in your head, soon interrupted by Phainon’s groan of disbelief.
“I would expect that from Mydei, but you, (Name)?” he cried in mock pain. “Oh, how your words wound me so. I will remember this for the rest of my days.” He placed his palm over his chest as though there was a gaping hole in need of closure.
“Oh, my apologies, my Lord,” brushing his flimsy anguish off with an even flimsier apology, you continued taking steps around the bath until you stood across from the two lords. “Now, shall we finish looking around the baths? There is a banquet you’re needed at, after all.”
The three of you shuffled past the curtains to admire the smaller baths and all of their beauty. You tried to recount the tales of the architect and sculptor that worked hand-in-hand to craft what stood before you; however, they were from much before your time and details always managed to be skimmed off in each retelling you heard. After your measly speech, the flow of water was all that filled the silence once more. Phainon continued to peruse the details of the decor while Mydei stood rigidly still, a few steps to your left. You internally reprimanded yourself for such a pitiful display in front of two esteemed guests. Well, it was more so one guest in particular. Phainon you didn’t mind so much, but maybe Mydei was right in calling you amateur. Subconsciously, a frown began to feature itself on your expression as you mulled over which texts to borrow to hone your storytelling, staring off into the gently swaying water mere inches away from you.
“Haha, what’s with that look, friend?” The sound of Phainon’s mirthful laughter broke the silence, “Is something the matter?”
“Huh? Oh no, of course not. Thank you for your concern, Lord Phainon,” you dismissed his concern, waving a hand as you did so. In your rush to draw attention away from yourself, you missed the rather playful glint in his azure eyes. It seemed Mydei missed it too, distracted in the process of observing your response. You quietly cleared your throat, “Well, my Lords, I don’t think there much else to explore in the bathhouse. With your command, shall we make our way back now?”
“Must we go back so soon?” Phainon sighed, strolling towards you and Mydei.
“You heard her. There’s not much left to see here,” Mydei retorted. It was met with a pout from his fellow noble, reminiscent of a forlorn chimera.
“That doesn’t mean—” Phainon abruptly stopped, leaning forward to peer into the water. “Hey, do you see something in the bath?” Taken aback by his earnest interruption, both you and Mydei instinctively mimicked his movement to have a better view of the water.
“I don’t see anything,” the blonde stated from beside you. You hummed in agreement, continuing to look into the water. The fading light of the sunset offered no support in your efforts, something the man hailing from Aedes Elysiae used to his advantage.
“No, no, it’s not over there. Don’t you see it here? It’s a bit hard to spot, but look a little closer,” he pointed to a spot in the water somewhere between where you and Mydei were looking. The two of you followed his direction, stepping closer to each other to hone in on the supposed mystery object. Taking the opportunity presented to him, Phainon silently snuck around you to approach you from behind.
“Deliverer, is this some kind of joke—”
“Woah!” A sound of surprise exploded from you as you felt a gentle, but firm, push on your shoulder. With the angle, it pushed you forward and to your left and, in your panic, you grasped the nearest thing in your periphery. Unfortunately for you, it was the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos. And, unfortunately for him, leaning over the bath left him vulnerable to losing his balance. Water splashed around the periphery of the bath, the impact of two bodies causing chaotic and uneven tides to ripple to each corner. Thankfully, the smaller baths were shallower at the edges to allow guests to ease themselves in, saving you from being fully submerged. You managed to catch yourself in the fall, positioned on all fours as the lukewarm water rose and fell against your torso and thighs. Mydei recovered remarkably fast, getting to his feet in a matter of seconds. Instead of immediately going for Phainon’s throat, which may have been your first move, he bent at the knee and extended an armoured hand towards you.
“Are you alright?” Looking up through your lashes, you discerned a certain sincerity etched on his features. Anchoring your hand in his, you pulled yourself out of the water. Giving a quiet ‘thank you, my Lord,’ you turned on your heel to glare at Phainon who was beyond amused.
“What was all of that for, Lord Phainon?” you huffed, stepping onto the wet tile to escape the warm water lapping at your ankles with Mydei following closely behind.
“What, didn’t expect someone so ‘feeble’ to make a fool out of you? Though it seems I got more than I bargained for,” he eyed Mydei as he revelled in the success of his little ploy. Before you could retort, your fellow involuntary bather spoke first.
“How petty of you, Phainon. You may not be feeble, but it takes someone pathetic to rely on underhanded tactics,” his words were intentionally goading, yet not with any substance behind them. “You’re lucky we’re not alone, or I would have drowned you in this bath myself.” You snickered behind your hand as Phainon sighed.
“Well, we’re lucky it’s just water. It should dry in no time,” you placed your hands on your hips, looking from Phainon to Mydei. The latter’s eyes were on yours as you spoke, paying attention to what you had to say, before they dropped down to your attire. Even with that brief moment, his mouth tightened slightly and his eyes snapped back to yours in an instant. You tilted your head in confusion as Phainon cleared his throat.
“Um, (Name), your clothing is… Well…” He trailed off, looking off at some distant object that seemingly captured his attention.
“Wet, I know. Thanks to a certain someone,” you finished his sentence while crossing your arms, still confused at his unusual hesitancy.
“He means your gown is… somewhat see-through,” Mydei stated bluntly, eyes fixated on your face. Horrified, you looked down to see the white fabric clinging to your figure in stark contrast to its usual flowiness. The patches of fabric that lay flush against your body had become translucent, except for those that lay over your undergarments. Your fingers pinched the cloth as you peeled it away from yourself, mortified at being seen in such a state by two visiting nobles of Amphoreus, let alone two men.
“T-thank you for letting me know, Lord Mydei,” you rounded your shoulders, arms awkwardly held away from you to keep the fabric from adhering to your skin once more. “If you’d follow me, I can get you some towels to dry yourself off.”
“Thanks,” he answered, following your hurried footsteps to the back of the bathhouse. As you moved, you called out over your shoulder.
“Lord Phainon, thank you for your time today. Forgive my presumptuousness, but it might be a good time for you to return to the banquet hall now!”
“Right! I’ll see you there, friends!” He waved goodbye, slowly moving past the curtains towards the bathhouse entrance. He gnawed at his lip in thought, before a smile spread across his lips. You were one of the few people he had met that treated him as a human, as someone beyond the titles of ‘Deliverer,’ Lord of Aedes Elysiae, and many others. Being of noble blood was an isolating experience, and surely Mydei felt the same. Surely the simple joy of companionship had a similar effect on him too?
“Here, my Lord,” entering a small room at the end of the bathhouse, you handed a large towel to Mydei with your body still facing away from him. He wordlessly took it from you as you heard the unclasping of metal follow suit.
“Aren’t you going to dry off too?” he inquired, removing the robe that hung off of his left shoulder.
“I think it would be best for me to head back to my quarters to change my gown entirely, given the circumstances,” you answered while facing the wall, avoiding any explicit mention of how exposed you felt. A grunt was his only response as he continued to pat his skin dry. The silence was burning you up from the inside, prompting you to continue speaking as you still refused to fully face him. “I really do apologize for this. I didn’t mean to drag you into the bath with me. And I hope my behaviour wasn’t too unbecoming in front of both Lord Phainon and yourself. Also, I—”
“Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault. Phainon can get too excited sometimes and overstep,” he spoke softly, wringing out the last of the water that had soaked into his robe. “Besides, like you said earlier, it’s just water. It’s nothing.” You parted your lips to speak, yet you failed to call forth any words. Instead, you opted to throw a glance over your shoulder in an attempt to gauge how much longer he needed.
His back was to you, the half-adorned robe fell slack at his waist as he finished wiping himself dry with the towel. The muscles of his back, lined with crimson just like the rest, writhed beneath his skin with his movements. Scars littered his body, surely a byproduct of being brought up as the heir of Castrum Kremnos. Even the nobles of Amphoreus had not been spared from the cruelties of this era, leaving a slight ache in your chest. Rumours had circulated of Eurypon’s tyrannical nature in the servant’s quarters before, and upon recalling them you felt that ache deepen ever so slightly.
Mydei slipped the robe over his shoulder once more before returning his armour to its rightful place. As you stopped scrutinizing his appearance, you lowered your gaze and finally found the words you wanted to convey. “Lord Mydei?”
“What is it?” He fastened the last clasp of his gauntlet, tilting his head in your direction.
“Thank you,” you began, pausing for a beat before continuing, “for all of your kindness today. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s a benevolent quality to you.” Though subtle, it seemed he was taken aback at your choice of words. It wasn’t common for someone to commend his kindness of all attributes, but he remained quiet. “Had it been any of the other lords or ladies, there’s no telling what would’ve happened. So I’m glad it was you.”
It wasn’t your intention for your words to come off as so heartfelt. Perhaps it was the elated feeling from your time away from your duties or the witty teasing the three of you had engaged in, but the contentment you felt was unmistakable. And it was evident to the man before you from the dreamy smile adorning your visage. You now looked him square in the eyes, your body still twisted away from him, as you reigned in your expression. “I’ll clean up the mess we made here. Please go ahead and rejoin the others at the banquet. I’m sure Lord Phainon is awaiting your return.”
Mydei continued to lock eyes with you, though you struggled to decipher what thoughts were circulating behind them. He wordlessly nodded and sauntered towards the entrance of the bathhouse. Before he made it a few paces too far from you, he stopped.
“At the next banquet, I’ll be sure to find you two once again.”