> I knew he was special from the first moment I saw my daughter’s gaze, and the enraptured fascination that filled it. I had seen her scornful, dismissive, haughty, superior, and outright condescending—but I had never seen her so utterly transfixed. It was as if he were a star, and she was a planet caught in his orbit. If I had known what the future held, I might have pleaded with Atreus to slay him there and then. Yet I did not, and as a result, all that we knew as constant has been turned on its head. I wonder what my forefathers would say if they could speak. Somehow I know their spirits are howling while they watch this madness unfold, and the Humanosphere blazes all around us.
“I am glad you could join us today, Ser Magellan.” Menelaus said while drawing Arthur’s attention from the depths of Circe’s eyes, and back to the Duke of Pallikári himself. “I am very excited for you to tour our facilities. They are something of a point of pride for House Leos.”
“It’s my honor, your grace. I hope that at the end of this week, I will be able to offer you validation for the hope you are placing upon me.” Arthur replied courteously while simultaneously berating himself mentally for letting the heiress’ psions wiggle in past his defenses. He found it hard to extricate himself from her aura when he lost focus on holding it at bay, even with his extensive experience in combating such things.
His resonance with Circe Leos seemed to undermine his self-control with ease.
The heiress herself looked away only a few moments after he did, and the faint flush of embarrassment on her cheeks seemed to confirm her own awareness of his attention.
Making her uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted, and he chided himself mentally while focusing on the platinum-haired patrician observing them both.
“A week, Ser Magellan?” Menelaus asked curiously.
“I-It was my idea, father!” Circe spoke up while clearing her throat. “I spoke to Arthur—that is, Ser Magellan—at length and we came to an agreement. He will spend a week learning all he can about our House, our home, and our culture. In return I will learn about him and where he comes from, and by the end of that week, the two of us will duel.”
“I see.” Menelaus said with a glance toward Atreus, who met his eyes with a grunt.
Arthur remained quiet while Menelaus seemed to consider Circe’s words, and simply awaited the Duke’s determination. He had thought that perhaps the Patriarch wanted him to demonstrate his skills sooner, given Atreus’ comments on the shuttle in.
He supposed now was when he found out.
“A week, then.” Menelaus said instead a moment later. “That seems like an agreeable timetable to me, and it allows us to put preparations in place for your inauguration should you prove worthy of the position being offered, Ser Arthur.”
Menelaus’ use of his name seemed intentional, as did the small smile that accompanied it. The Lord of Leos seemed to both be acknowledging his daughter’s use of it, while also using the ‘Ser’ moniker as a means of ensuring proper separation between a High Noble and potential vassal.
It was as close to a welcoming embrace as Arthur might ever receive.
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He felt a tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding melt away.
“You have my gratitude for your understanding, your grace.” he said sincerely.
“Not at all. I defer to my daughter’s insight in this case.” Menelaus responded warmly.
“She has been a very engaging conversationalist.” Arthur agreed with a wry smile.
Circe glanced over and up at him, and Arthur turned his smile down to her in turn.
She bit her lip and looked away in embarrassment, and he let his smile fade. Had he misread the friendship they had started cultivating? Or was it a matter of appearances in front of her father? He couldn’t tell, and resonance was not helpful for such specificity.
“The training machine has been prepared for you as well, Ser Magellan, when you are ready.” the small and rotund man with the impressive mustache commented jovially, and took Arthur’s attention in the act. “Though before that, perhaps introductions are in order? We appear to have all been relieved of our senses by your impressive presence.”
A chuckle from Menelaus followed, and Arthur inclined his head with exacting politeness. “A fine suggestion, sir. May I ask your name first?”
“Oho. Turnabout is fair play, I suppose. Very well, my boy. I am Stephanos Stephanopolous, Seneschal of House Leos.”
“Seneschal? Then you both aid Duke Leos in balancing the accounts, and see to the comforts of all present I assume? I will be sure to endeavor to remain in your good graces, Master Stephanopoulos.”
“Ha! Smart boy.” Stpehanos replied with a grin that Arthur noted never fully reached his eyes. “Keep that attitude about you, my boy, and we shall get along well indeed.”
Arthur returned the smile with a polite one of his own, and ignored the amused look of the Duke—which was matched by the equally disinterested passive frown of Atreus—while turning to the scarred and armored woman beside Stephanos.
“And if I may ask your name in turn, my lady?”
“I am no lady.” the woman replied in her gruff voice. “I am called Daphne Bladebreaker, but Daphne is what most refer to me as. I stand as First Captain of House Leos’ elite Lion Guard.”
“First Captain Bladebreaker.” Arthur confirmed with another bow of the head. “As a potential Hetairoi of House Leos, I look forward to your tuition and guidance in matters of war, First Captain.”
Daphne snorted, but something approaching approval glimmered in her eyes.
“I doubt I can teach you anything about Eidolon combat, Ser Knight-Errant. Of the more mortal martial forms, well, we shall see.”
Her eyes raked over him with all the non-existent intimacy of a mechanic looking over an unknown machine, and something approaching interest entered her eyes—though it was the interest of a builder surveying as-of-yet unknown materials. “You will not be the first Eidolon pilot that has sought to learn combat outside of the safety of a cockpit. Perhaps you will be one of the rare few that manages to pass muster, though. Eventually.”
Arthur responded calmly at her subtle implication of an Eidolon pilot’s failings, and did not rise the bait of her inferring the ‘safety’ of a cockpit. After all, Menelaus was proof that Eidolons were anything but safe—and Arthur could tell almost immediately that the woman was trying to push him for a reaction. He would not be so easily riled, though.
“I will endeavor to prove your hopes justified, First Captain. I look forward to sparring with you to that end.”
“Mm.” Daphne responded with a grudging look of surprised approval. “We shall see.”
“I already know Lord Atreus.” Arthur said with a glance at the dour Myrmidón. “And while his impressive sense of humor and jovial countenance remain a constant boon to me, I shan’t impress upon him to pretend to enjoy senseless formalities.”
All eyes snapped to Arthur in surprise at his words, and then immediately to the tall Myrmidón with a mix of shock, bewilderment, and anticipation for his reaction.
Atreus, however, simply snorted. “Your confidence will be the end of you one day, Magellan.” the Spartan said in a disaffected manner.
“Not easily, while I have you and your Kidemónes brothers to defend me, Lord Atreus. It’s only thanks to your volunteering to look after my well-being that I can be so confidently glib, after all.” Arthur responded with a casual smile.
The Myrmidón snorted again, and Arthur heard laughter from Perseus behind him.