The final person in the line-up was her favorite after her father.

Daphne Bladebreaker had been the iron spine behind House Leos’ safety for the better part of a century. She'd been recruited by Circe’s Grandfather as a young soldier, trained by Kidemónes, and had chosen to serve House Leos over the Kings themselves. She was a tall, muscular woman with a shock of blonde hair run through with gray streaks, and cut short into a manageable bob with braided ponytails at the rear.

Her attire was armor, simple and efficient, with crimson lacquer across the powered suit and gold highlights to demonstrate her rank and authority. She wore her custom blade proudly upon her right hip, its length shaped around the blade-catching crescent above the crossguard that had given Daphne her moniker.

Her shield was nowhere to be seen at present, though Circe knew she could deploy a plasma barrier from her left vambrace at a moment’s notice. Her cloak, as black as the space around Hellas, was thick and fur-lined—marked by the pelt of an Hellenic Dire Wolf and emblazoned with the crimson sigil of the House Leos lion rampant upon the obsidian river of the cloak proper.

The woman’s features which might once have been pretty but were now faintly distorted by a hare-lipped scar and similar wound over her left eye—both taken in defense of her family—oriented toward Circe with a single welcoming smile, before defaulting back to neutral-bordering-hostile appraisal of Arthur’s towering physique beside her.

Another quick glance to her side showed the psion-dense offworlder in a state of utter ease, as if he were walking into a place of his control, at his choosing, and in perfect awareness that he was the one in charge.

The confidence, be it psion-influenced or not, was momentarily baffling.

She could almost sense the truth of it, vaguely, through their resonance.

There were so many things about Arthur that just didn’t quite fit.

Her chance to dwell on the details however was robbed when her own quartet came to a halt at polite speaking distance from her father’s, and she was forced to focus on the exchange at hand.

“Good afternoon, Father.”

“Welcome back, Circe.” Menelaus replied warmly. “I take it from our guest’s new attire, your spirited desire to speak with him prior bore fruit?”

Circe cleared her throat subtly at her father’s amused tone and affected a gracious smile while ignoring the flush of embarrassment that faintly warmed her cheeks. “Yes, actually. Ser Magellan and I reached an equitable understanding, and I am looking forward to seeing him fight on our behalf—presuming he passes your inspection, father.”

“Oho!” Stephanos exclaimed with a raise of his bushy eyebrows. “Lady Circe finds promise in another pilot? Now I truly have seen everything!” his smile, while jovial, never eroded the critical appraisal of Arthur that filled his eyes. “I look forward to seeing your skills for myself, young man.”

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“Indeed.” Daphne agreed curtly. “I too wish to understand what manner of man has so impressed our lady heiress.”

“It would be my honor to demonstrate for you both.” Arthur replied with a courteous smile. “After all, what is the worth of a skill that is not proven?”

Both Stephanos and Daphne appeared faintly surprised by his words, and glanced once again from Circe back to the tall blond pilot, with expressions that were more thoughtful than before.

Wondering, perhaps, at how exactly their conversation had proceeded.

Circe felt her cheeks heat even more at what she knew was very respectful, but very clear—at least to her—protectiveness on the part of both the Seneschal and First Captain. The fact they were already suspecting something might have happened only served to embarrass her further. Did they truly forget how many men she had outright and even physically rejected without hesitation? Surely they didn’t think a mercenary would be any different.

The memory of Arthur’s naked, freshly showered body entered her mind and she bit her lip to dismiss the image.

Damn her traitorous mind!

Circe instead turned her attention to Atreus and her father who both, interestingly enough, seemed far less inclined toward suspicion or concern. Atreus was observing Arthur with a passive implacability that seemed standard for the Myrmidón, and her father meanwhile was watching with something approaching genuine interest mixed with an almost boyish excitement.

It never ceased to amaze her how non-threatening her father could appear.

“I have heard fantastical things about you, Arthur Magellan. Things that had they not come from my own wife, and been vouched for by Lord Atreus, may have given me cause for great skepticism. As it stands now, I simply find myself insatiably curious as to the reality of those tales—and what such might mean for my family, if the stories are proven to be true.”

“I came here with intent to enter your service, my lord, with full awareness of what that means.” Arthur responded simply.

“And that is all you desire?” Menelaus enquired.

“No.” Arthur answered honestly. “I desire my independence from the shackles of Graecian politics in the major, and that means proving myself as a Hetairoi and earning sponsorship to join the ranks of the Eupatridae. The fact House Leos aligned at least on paper with my values simply made the choice easier.”

“And now that you have enjoyed some measure of our hospitality?” the Duke asked.

Circe turned to Arthur fully when the question was asked, and felt her heart rate spike slightly when he turned his eyes—like windows into the myriad hues of the skies above—to regard her intently.

When he spoke, his voice seemed to almost resonate within her very soul.

“After what I have exchanged with your lady daughter, your grace, I can safely say that I believe I will find what I seek here in House Leos.”

Even knowing that it was the psions at work, Circe didn’t care. She allowed the feeling of relief to flood her, and the words to buoy her heart. It was a confirmation of her hopes, and a validation of her desires.

Circe knew then that all six other people present were looking between her and Arthur once more in question. Even the Kidemónes that had witnessed their true interaction. All were wondering. All were questioning. Unspoken was the curiosity as to what exactly there was between the lady and the strange out-sector mercenary.

For the first time, though, she just couldn’t find it in herself to care.