#Iagaris Legacy

[incarnalsims]

Following Sighni back inside, it takes Falkon a few moments to break through his cloud of thoughts and actually register the room before him- and, most notably, the fact that his tutor is now in it.

Theodore breaks away from his present conversation with a grin, rising to greet the three. "Ah, perfect timing. I was about to go out searching for you myself…"

He swiftly approaches. "Hendes Kongelige Højhed, Prinsesse Sighni, jeg antager. Det er en fornøjelse endelig at møde dig…"

The way Sighni's face lights up as Theodore proceeds (at least, as far as Falkon can tell) to introduce himself as Falkon's tutor twists the young lord's guts like some embedded stake; not because he's all that eager to impress, and certainly not out of any sort of jealousy, but because of how awfully pitiful she must have found his meager attempts to relate, despite her niceties. At least some of the goodwill Theodore seems to be incurring may manage to grace him- though, knowing his own luck, Falkon can't help but doubt it.

It's even worse when Sighni responds, saying something far too quickly and eagerly for Falkon to parse.

Apparently wrapping up his thoughts, Theodore gestures to the table- and family- behind him, swiftly returning to a more familiar tongue for them. "But I- Ah, I really should be going now. I'd hate to take up any more of your time."

Noticing his family had snapped to attention all the same as him, Falkon allows himself to return to the conversation as his father speaks, rushed but reassuring. "Not so quickly, now- you're perfectly welcome to join us."

Procopia picks up the sentence. "Especially seeing as I'm certain you'll be integral to our home in the coming months… And beyond, of course."

Another warm smile. "You're both far too kind," Theodore insists, "But I think my skill set currently lies better suited to getting the visiting staff established before it all gets too disordered."

With some further farewells, Theodore steps out, leaving the room feeling like the family's introduction all over again. Still, with at least some progress made, the tension isn't quite as suffocating as it could be…

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[incarnalsims]

In the current stillness of the castle- aside from the occasional baby crying and person stirring- Officer Maximian does his best not to contribute to such interruptions.

Stationed vaguely outside of Lord Falkon's room, he lets his guard go just as vaguely slack, knowing the only opponent he'd have to face at the current junction is… an undergrown nobleman.

Certainly a departure.

He's still prepared as ever to react when there's a sudden noise from across the hall, taking a few assured steps forward, hand naturally coming to rest on his sword's hilt.

And, just as quickly, he finds a young woman at the end of his gaze.

Red hair loose upon her shoulders, face clear of paints or powders, gown exchanged for something far less delicate, and a thick knit vest concealing the upper half of that substitution.

The officer straightens his posture. "Princess- er, Your Royal Highness…" He glances to the doors around him, before returning his attention to the princess, lowering his volume so hopefully only she can hear it. "If you intend to sneak out, I'm afraid I can't let you do that…"

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[incarnalsims]

Meanwhile… Despite the discomfort of being shadowed by the officer paces behind, walking around the perimeter of the castle is less suffocating than Falkon thought it would be. At least the princess- well, Sighni, he needs to get more used to calling her that- seems as uncomfortable as he is.

They're more than a few minutes in when Sighni finally breaks their mutual silence. "Do you like my hair like this?"

He looks to that style, made extremely distracting by the color alone. He's not sure what he thinks of it, but responds anyways. "Yeah, it looks nice."

"Hm," she notes, starting to yank at the flowers in it. "I don't. It hurts."

Falkon can just about feel himself blink, forced by his brow. "Oh. Well, I mean, I didn't-"

"They made me dress like this when we stopped in the city," she continues, as if he didn't even speak. "When it makes nothing different. And hurts."

Falkon is still uncertain, and lets himself say the first thing that comes to mind. "Your Greek is really good." He nearly mutters the next half. "It makes me feel like I wasted my time with Danish..."

She does notice that. "Oh. Thank you." She pauses. "But I like that you… try? It's nice to hear my language as the first words here. So… tak." A glance in his direction. "That's 'thank you' again."

"I know that," Falkon says, maybe slightly irritated. "Det var så lidt. I was taught that one."

She doesn't even seem to attempt to hide her sudden, slight smile. "Your pronouncing is bad again."

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[incarnalsims]

The pleasant air sits for a moment, only shifting slightly as Procopia reenters the room. After her brief greeting, she gestures to her daughter with a flick of her wrist. "Ariadne, if you'd join me."

That strange, recently familiar rhythm of bracelets clanging against one another- it tells Ariadne something bad is coming, but giving the idea any more than a second of thought leaves her just about stumped as to what that could possibly be. Surely if yesterday's greeting had gone so poorly she'd have been told off as soon as the princess retired- still, she quietly abides and rushes to the other room before she can work herself up about the notion.

Ariadne can't even compose her lack of thoughts as she's practically accosted by her mother, the girl now finding her hands in a scrutinizing grip. Procopia hardly conceals her sigh. "I knew your sleeves looked shorter. And to think I was doubting myself…"

Had she a sliver more boldness, Ariadne wouldn't be stood here biting her tongue. Instead, in her silence, she can only stew in the thought that, absolutely not, her sleeves are the same length they have always been.

Procopia relents her grip on Ariadne's hands, allowing herself to lower them before quickly adjusting the collar of her daughter's dress. "It's no matter. I'm certain we can find some free time to take you to a dress fitting sooner rather than later." She doesn't even pause to allow for Ariadne's response. "But that should be fun anyways- it'll be wonderful to see you find something more-"

Don't say it.

"-age appropriate."

Granted, not the worst thing her mother could have said, but still a pointless step too far. Without thinking, Ariadne tugs her sleeves down, stepping back from Procopia. "To what end? It's not as if I'd likely be in anything new before the wedding, and my current clothing suits my age perfectly fine."

"You're nearly sixteen," Procopia insists, her exasperation giving way to nothing but further level-headedness.

"Then let me make decisions as if I am! If you insist I be fifteen, then my wardrobe is suitable. If you insist I be older, then my decision should matter to you! I still see no reason for this, and-"

Procopia's glare is enough to halt Ariadne in her tracks, and her continuation only silences her further. "I only insist that you be my daughter, be you fifteen months or fifteen years." She lays a hand on Ariadne's shoulder. "I know all that success requires and entails. And, as such, you should know that I would never make a decision that I thought wasn't best for you. But, if that means I must enforce that choice upon you… so be it."

As Ariadne's eyes begin to burn- largely with some unutterable pain only she can feel, but certainly in the glare she's passing her mother as well- she forces them closed with a resounding "UGH!" and rips away from her mother, storming out of the room and back towards a hopefully more sympathetic ear.

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[incarnalsims]

Though she'd read the same passage a dozen times over by then, Procopia simply could not bring its words to focus.

It was nothing complicated, certainly no more so than the text she'd force herself to endure on her worst days, and yet her mind was elsewhere entirely.

She often had to read outside the castle walls- well, perhaps she didn't have to, but it was more tolerable than getting comfortable inside, only to learn that it was one of her father-in-law's days to completely ruin hers.

Be it his yelling, be it his leering friends, be it his spontaneous decisions to lecture whoever would listen about what a grand disappointment his children were. Humor, he called it. "Humor" which was nothing short of the stupid ramblings of an old man. The same "humor" that made him wildly oscillate between comments that Procopia must be getting "masculine attention" elsewhere- as he adored the strange idea that his son was an unfit husband- and his strangely inverse "observations" that his son must be doing (or, in a painfully crass manner) possessing something right, because Procopia miraculously didn't seem to be tempted by the other men of the court. As if other men could make her a duchess one day…

Two years, she reminded herself, she'd only been by Basilios' side for two years. She obviously hadn't expected to become duchess in that time, but the longer it dragged on, the more she morbidly hoped it might happen sooner than later. She saw an awful lot of room for improvement.

Naturally, she'd only brought such ideas up to Basilios occasionally. He was never exactly keen to speak out against his father, even in moments of assured privacy, and none of the tutoring he'd been receiving had seemed to sink in as of yet. But, so be it. That was just how her husband was.

Her… Husband.

She sighed, sitting there, hardly thinking about the book in her hands any longer.

Grateful, yes, she had plenty to be grateful for. Not only paving her way to a higher title, Basilios had the additional perk of being nothing like his father, for better in a way that made it easy to overlook the extremely few ways in which it was for worse. Though some features stood… Rather neutrally, she supposed.

Ah, Basilios Iagaris, pinnacle of gentle neutrality.

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[incarnalsims]

Sighni can feel her next breath move to straighten her posture at the mere mention of the fact. She nods. "My sister and her husband, yes…" Surely arriving just in time to witness the wedding, though not much else. As if any family's second oldest is so terribly busy all the time.

Though, come to think of it, her betrothed is technically one of those second oldest, isn't he? She tries not to look at him. What an awful way to prove her point. No, focus, not the time. With that, she tries on a smile. "I… 'look forward' to that, yes."

With some gentle understanding- including the, perhaps, unintentional cue to drop the subject as she fails to elaborate- the conversation soon dies down to next to nothing.

And, at least for Falkon in that moment, no silence is comfortable silence. He clears his throat and speaks up. "I- uh, Sighni- we…" He tries again. "I'm going to introduce Sighni to Eirene tomorrow. She… wanted to get familiar with everything around here."

Procopia raises her brow as she inhales. "Oh?" A moment's pause. "That may entail her meeting your aunt and uncle as well-" It takes everything for her not to say that her and Basilios should be involved with that, especially as just as forceful a thought tells her that her son is grown, nevermind betrothed, and it's meant to be out of her hands now. "-but I'm certain they'd be delighted to meet her so soon."

Falkon nods in thanks, though he freezes when he hears Loukas break his silence. "I'm sure it'll go swimmingly, brother, considering how much time you insist upon spending there already." Falkon's eyes finally land on Loukas' face, catching a nearly unreadable expression on his face clarified only by that constant, critical tone. "So I suppose there's no need to wish you the best."

Falkon is drawn immediately to Ariadne's response, a palpably knowing glance towards Maria, who just as quickly returns the look as her jaw softly clenches. To think his brother can't change for a single moment, even as he feigns civility.

And yet, as he moves to speak, he notices Loukas suddenly ball his fists as they rest on the table, his eyes taking on an odd, warm sheen. He rises, momentarily resting a hand on Maria's shoulder. "Excuse me for a moment, I think I hear…"

Loukas allows himself to trail off as he approaches Rhodanthe, quietly distracting from himself as he checks on his daughter with whispers and clacking toys.

Maria folds her hands against the edge of the table, looking towards Falkon and Sighni. "I'll wish you two the best tomorrow anyways."

Falkon can only breathe out a "Thank you," though Sighni briefly remains silent. She finally leaves her plate be, speaking up to no one in particular. "Wh… Where am I going to be sleeping?"

Without missing a beat, Procopia responds. "We have one of our spare rooms set up. If you'd like, I could show you to it."

Sighni nods wordlessly.

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[incarnalsims]

Obviously scandalized, Ariadne clutches a hand to her heart. "Goodness, but I ought to be perfectly articulate! It'd be an utter embarrassment otherwise. Everyone should understand the all-important words of a lady, even if…" Her brow furrows, as she lowers her voice to a mockery of profoundness. "Puellas loquuntur, et nemo auscultant..."

After a brief pause, Sighni somewhat quietly speaks up. "...Puellae loquuntur, et nemo auscultat."

Ariadne turns to face her. "Huh?"

"Hm?" Sighni responds, before realization sets in. "Oh… It didn't sound right. I think it would be, uh, 'puellae,' not 'puellas,' and-"

"No, no, I understand that, it just- that's amazing. You speak Latin?"

Sighni's fingers curl against her thumbs. "You… are saying it as if you don't? When I hear you do…"

"But not that fluently. I'm better at reading it, but…" Ariadne trails off.

"Fluently?" Sighni repeats. "No, I don't think so." She pauses. "And I don't know why everyone is so… tjah, finds it strange to know this."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ariadne exclaims, before withdrawing slightly. "Sorry, sorry. I'm impressed, is all." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "I mean, have you really heard Falkon's Danish? He sounds so-"

Finally, Maria interrupts. "He sounds like he's trying his best."

"No one can argue with trying," Loukas retorts.

"Would you fare any better if we tested your Latin at this very moment?" Maria presses.

Loukas doesn't falter. "Of course not. I'd hardly fare any better if you tested my Greek." He pauses. "But I could ask you the same."

"Mhm." Maria's resting hand pats her husband's shoulder. "I'd only ask you test me on verses first, as to not render me looking wholly incompetent…"

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[incarnalsims]

Procopia doesn't hesitate to offer her full attention. "Oh, yes, of course."

She closes the distance between them, and Maria swears she can almost see a second thought dwell on and disappear from the duchess' face in the few moments it takes.

"Right," Maria begins, only to feel her jaw tense with a flood of decisions. "Ah, I- I understand this may be sensitive, and I certainly don't mean to overstep, but…" She can only think of one way to explain it, the word suddenly falling more resolutely than she intended. "...Ariadne."

Procopia takes a pronounced breath. "Don't worry, I certainly didn't expect she'd keep her frustrations to herself- even if I find her haste in doing so rather astonishing. But it's nothing you should feel the need to concern yourself with." She shrugs, somehow maintaining elegant dignity in such a casual gesture. "After all, you've been a teenage girl before too. Friction is bound to occur here and there."

"That's… true," Maria responds, "But I'd… I'd hate for this to be any worse than it has to be. As in I'd hate for there to be… additional friction."

Procopia's brow furrows. "I'm not certain I follow."

In her pause, Maria can only nod. "I'm talking around my point, my apologies." A quick breath. "I'd like to offer to accompany Ariadne on this dress fitting you have planned." With that, she suddenly finds her stride. "Perhaps I could even arrange the whole thing. For both your sakes- as effortlessly as I know you could handle such a small task, you certainly don't need the additional worry leading up to the wedding, and I feel as though Ariadne may respond better if she felt as though she were being guided by a… a friend, and not an authority figure." She shrugs, imagining that it's hardly so dignified when she does it. "And, even if she doesn't… I don't mind taking on some of that 'friction' for you."

Procopia considers the offer carefully, before her composure gently relents alongside her decision. "I never want you to feel as if I don't trust your judgment, Lady Maria, because I do, and wholeheartedly at that. And I hope that, in the future, you find no need to convince me so strongly of something I've simply yet to admit is true." She smiles. "Ariadne trusts you. That's all the reassurance I need to accept your help."

Maria feels her breath catch in her throat, though she breaks it with her response. "Thank you, milady, I'll…" She matches Procopia's smile. "She'll come around, I promise."

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[incarnalsims]

However, it's Loukas that Ariadne first encounters; only briefly, as she's far more than willing to ignore him as she stomps past, leaving her eldest brother equal parts dumbstruck and annoyed as he freezes at the bottom of the staircase.

Maria breaks from her lean against the seat immediately as Ariadne approaches. "Wha- is everything alright? What ha-"

"A DRESS fitting!" Ariadne interrupts, as if she were alone in the room. "She wants to take me to a dress fitting, as if I need that, as if I couldn't tell when I'd need that…"

Swearing she can hear someone whimper- though she's not certain whether it's Rhodanthe or Sighni, to be honest- Maria shakes her head. "Calm down, calm down, I'll…" Oh, the price of caring. "I'll talk to your mother, alright? I have… No, it'll be fine, I just…"

She walks past Ariadne, transferring Rhodanthe over to Loukas' arms. "One moment, please."

There's solace in the fact that Loukas accepts the handoff quietly. For the moment their eyes meet, she swears she might even see some pity in her husband's softened brow.

The steps which lead Maria to the next room don't feel quite her own, though she takes the momentary loss of control to fight back the regret clouding her careful internal rehearsals.

Not that it does much good once she actually enters the room. With Procopia's back to her, the duchess still seems as unshakable as ever. Best not to dwell on that stark contrast, as easily as she could.

Maria quickly clears her throat as her hands fold through no real effort of her own. "Excuse me…" She pauses as quickly as she blinks, trying desperately to phrase it as well as she can. "...milady, but I'd like a quick word…"

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[incarnalsims]

Sighni's gaze lingers in his direction. "Is it… soon? Yes, I think so." She pauses. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying."

"It's just-" Falkon shrugs, mostly to himself. "I thought you'd want more time to 'settle in.' I can't even promise that Eirene won't be busy tomorrow…"

"Settle…" Sighni quietly repeats, quickly deciding to respond only to the part that makes any sense to her. "I won't like if your cousin is busy, but it can't be such a big problem. We can go to a different place."

"Right…" Falkon isn't even certain why he's so hesitant now. "...tomorrow it is, then."

Sighni offers a nod. "Thank you."

He's still not entirely sure what part she's thanking him for, but he politely nods in return.

As the silence between the two returns once again, within only a minute or two the officer trailing the pair finally speaks himself.

"Not to intrude, milord," Maximian begins. "But, if it'd suit you and Her Royal Highness, I think returning inside soon ought to be considered."

It can't POSSIBLY have been that long already, Falkon thinks, though Sighni beats him to the reply.

"Thank you-" she almost hushes the next word, unsure if it's quite right, "-officer, I think that would be best…"

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[incarnalsims]

By the time Ariadne and Maria reach the bottom of the stairs- Ariadne first, bounding down with the occasional skipped step- the two are already in the midst of a vivid exchange about nothing in particular.

It's Maria who first draws quieter upon noticing Sighni sitting alone in the living room; though this quickly guides Ariadne's attention to her too, and both offer a "Good morning," as they enter the room.

From Sighni's tone, one can hardly tell that any more than her first night's sleep in her new home in an almost entirely unfamiliar empire had transpired. "Good morning."

While Ariadne meanders around the seats, Maria more resolutely stations herself behind the one Sighni is sat on.

"Oh, your hair looks so much thicker down like that…" Maria first softly remarks- almost entirely to herself- before more directly addressing Sighni. "I really should have mentioned this when it came up yesterday, but, regardless, I can only anticipate that you and Falkon will be traveling on horseback to see his cousin." She quickly adjusts Rhodanthe's position in her arms. "If that, uh, presents any issues, I'd be more than happy to help, either with some plain assistance or arranging something else for you two… er, three, with Officer Maximian…"

Sighni straightens her posture. "No, it's alright, 'horseback' is no issue." She pauses. "I… should tell Falkon that, I think. I didn't think of it before."

"I'm sure he'll learn plenty about you on his own," Maria assures her with a mostly-interrupted shrug. "Important things arise when they're… well, important. I've always found that the hard part is planning ahead."

To, perhaps, the surprise of both of them, this inspires a slight laugh from Sighni. "That's… too bad. The planning is the part I like."

Maria leans against the seat with a smile. "In that case, I'll be delighted if you prove me wrong."

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[incarnalsims]

Sure enough, Sighni's preemptive start to the day leaves a number of her staff in the lurch.

Despite Maximian's, truly, best efforts (involving mostly staying out of the way), their arrival ultimately leads to a slight conflict. There are no raised voices, nothing that sounds like any more than gentle insistence and diplomatic refusal, but it does eventually require outside assistance.

Procopia's polite dismissal of the staff is eventually followed, though Sighni realizing she's been put in the position of sole translator for the group is far less than ideal.

Regardless, her future mother-in-law's support is especially reassuring; whether it's enough for Sighni to maintain her composure in the confusion, she isn't certain, but she focuses her attention on doing just that as the room clears regardless.

Procopia straightens her own gown, before turning to Sighni. She silently notes the young woman's unsteady breathing, giving her a few moments of respite, before allowing herself to speak- though to whom, exactly, is somewhat uncertain. "...A quirk of acclimation, I'm sure. Hopefully nothing we'll have to contend with soon…" She more directly addresses Sighni now. "Are you… Alright?"

Sighni swallows, leading into a vigorous nod. "Yes, I'm- I only…" Her blinking is heavy, brow furrowing so harshly it wrinkles her nose. "I thought…"

"No need to explain yourself," Procopia reassures her. "It's taken care of, right?"

Sighni bites her lip. "Right."

The duchess pauses, before offering a smile and swiftly changing the subject. "Falkon still has an awful habit of sleeping in, so you should have some more time to yourself before heading off today. Unless you'd prefer to join our family…" One half of her face briefly squints in thought. "...well, in whatever conversation arises before the day truly begins."

With a deep breath, Sighni allows herself to sit down. "Thank you, again…"

Procopia meets the response with a gentle sigh of her own. Though she contemplates dwelling a moment longer, or perhaps remarking upon the young woman's more sensible wear, she allows herself to step away, supposing that she shouldn't disrupt such a simple resolution.

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[incarnalsims]

Sighni stays tense, visibly flustered as she reaches for a response. "I- n-no, not 'sneak', I-" Her eyes dart from door to stairway to door. "You… You haven't seen any of the staff from Denmark, yes?"

Maximian raises an eyebrow. "I believe your guards are still here, but otherwise, no, I can't say I have." He pauses in an attempt to read her. "...It is awfully early for anyone to be around."

"I know," Sighni responds, beginning to compose herself. "That's why… I… Ah, early…"

Maximian stays quiet as Sighni attempts to complete her thought, stammering through a few attempts before she looks to the ground, sighs, and simply asserts, "They will NOT dress my hair again."

Not his place to judge the quirks of a noble, Maximian supposes. And, truly, it's not his fault if the princess' choice goes over poorly. He shrugs. "Very well. Though I'd still appreciate knowing your, ah, plan here. Because if something were to happen to you under my watch…"

Sighni nods, for longer than a simple acknowledgement should take. "I know. I was only going to… sit. And meet everyone as they wake…"

Maximian avoids another shrug with a nod of his own. "So be it."

A strange glint of realization on the princess' face. "And now YOU can tell the staff that I am not going to sit for them."

His brow furrows. "I can certainly try, but I don't speak-"

"Thank you," Sighni interrupts, briskly walking past Maximian to rhythmically pad down the stairs.

The officer simply drops his grip from his sword's hilt, and returns to his "patrol," having contended with enough strange young men and women to know when an issue isn't worth arguing…

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[incarnalsims]

And, as if by a trick of fate, it was then that Basilios came into view. Realizing that Procopia had noticed him, he raised his hand for a quick, gentle wave. Slightly confused, she returned it, not caught especially off-guard by the fact that it inspired a smile on him that he fought to conceal, but lacking the intention to cause that nonetheless.

He approached, tripping slightly over the grass, and keeping a solid distance from Procopia even as he meant to speak. "Hello, I- I assumed you must be out here…"

"Well…" She glanced to the side. "Yes, I'm out here…"

"Reading, I see," Basilios responded, slightly uncertain in his gestures as he maintained his distance.

Still remarkably confused, Procopia only nodded. "As… one does with a book."

Why was he still so far away? Bless the man, truly, for these strange measures; she might have even thought him monk-like in his self-restraint, if self-restrained didn't seem to be the very way he carried on through life.

Basilios nodded, before clearing his throat. "Right. I was- I was just off to see Adrian Hyrtakenas, he invited me to go meet with him. Something about my title…"

Procopia's brow furrowed. "Gerasimos' father?"

"HIM, yes, exactly, I mean-" Basilios shook his head. "I was just going to ask if you'd like to join me. I don't think he'd mind, and considering your expertise compared to mine…"

She tried to scrutinize his expression. Clearly he wasn't just offering to be polite, he could have easily left without comment, but surely he'd have been more direct if he actually wanted her to join him. Though… it was Basilios she was talking to here.

Within a moment she felt a jolt of guilt, and hated the sudden feeling that she was observing him like some animal in a pen. Felt an even greater hatred towards the thought that she did this often.

She shrugged, shaking away the thought for now. "If he only extended the invitation to you, then I think it'd be best for you to meet him alone."

Taking a breath, Basilios nodded again. "No, of course, you're right, as always…" A nervous laugh escaped him. "Which means, in that case, I'm off. I'll… see you tonight?" He turned away, only to swiftly turn back and gesture to her book with a slight smile. "I hope that's a good one."

"I'll see you then, Basilios. And thank you," Procopia offered, watching him leave.

She tried then to observe him as the man he was, not as some animal, not as some subject. The man whose neck got red beneath his shaggy hair when he blushed, the man who always stumbled over the overgrown grass around the castle when he got nervous, and the man who stood dramatic lengths away from his wife despite knowing that she, at the very least, tolerated sleeping in the same bed as him every night for the sake of convenience.

Her fingers traced the edge of her book's solid cover. Lord help Basilios, she thought, so that he might get past this silly infatuation for everyone's sake…

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[incarnalsims]

Though the young woman only quietly follows, Procopia gladly allows the silence to linger in between her necessary commentary.

"-at the risk of sounding repetitive, we really are so glad to finally have you here, safe and well. I can only imagine how tiring all that travel must have been."

Sighni exhales a laugh.

Procopia turns to check on her in response, but is met with the princess only staring at something across the hall. Following her gaze, Procopia comes to focus on the same subject; Beata.

The cat is frozen in place, tail twitching, and staring straight back at the two with wide, shining eyes.

A rustling prompts Procopia to turn again, where she catches Sighni enthusiastically crouched on the floor, arm outstretched as she whispers a "mis mis mis…"

Tail rising to a curved peak, and purring all the way, Beata trots over to Sighni's waiting hand, furiously rubbing her cheeks against the newcomer. Still whispering, Sighni runs her hands down the length of the cat's body. "Hej! Hvad hedder du, min søde?"

It doesn't take knowing the language to understand the curiosity. And, as unexpected as the encounter is, Procopia can't help but feel relieved by the sudden levity. "Ah, that's Beata." She smiles, almost wistfully. "Ariadne's ninth birthday gift, though-" Beata's eyes land on the duchess, and the cat trots over all the same, purring as she brushes against the bottom of Procopia's gown. "-she's obviously no stranger to the rest of us. Or anyone, for that matter."

Still crouching, Sighni clenches her now-free hands against her legs, before tightly folding them together so she can rise. "A little one and a cat…" She smiles. "I wish I had been told more things about your home, Your Grace. But I like the not-knowing just as well."

Procopia feels her face soften. "I must say, I'm beyond delighted that your surprise has been positive so far, then. I know it'll likely be difficult at first, but-"

Sighni shakes her head. "It's okay." A realization that she interrupted the duchess. "...Excuse me. But you have…a family. Like others, like mine…" She pauses to bite her lip. "And I think yours wants to be very kind to me, even if it is… 'difficult.'"

Though Procopia moves to respond, Sighni notices one of her bags sitting beside a door first. "Oh, is this the room?"

Procopia turns, still slightly stunned- and certainly touched- by Sighni's prior statement. "Yes, yes, that would be it. Your other belongings must be inside already."

"Good," Sighni says, relieved. "And thank you. If it's okay, I would like to be… by myself, for a while. I have not been by myself for most of my travels."

Procopia nods. "Oh, of course. But we're still here if you need anything. And, though it may be their company you're escaping, your staff are still available as well."

"Thank you," Sighni repeats, though missing no earnesty. "Your Grace…"

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[incarnalsims]

Soon… Despite the way she's been picking at the food (mostly dishes meant to maintain some familiarity in their simplicity, though with a few local introductions), Sighni's assurance that she's thankful for the welcome, meal included, is enough to set everyone at ease for now.

Which, for Ariadne, means becoming bold enough to push for more than idle, polite small talk. She leans forward in her seat. "This is probably a little overly familiar, but is there a title you'd prefer I use for you? Because 'Your Royal Highness' is very nice and all, but…"

Sighni bites the inside of her lip. "Yes, I know. Very big." She tightly shrugs. "If you let me be more- you said, familiar, with you, 'Ariadne,' I don't mind 'Sighni.'" With a glance, she nods towards Basilios and Procopia. "Not meaning anything, uh, bad, to His Grace and Her Grace…"

"It's alright, no need to be apologetic," Basilios addresses with a smile.

"If I may," Maria offers, "I wouldn't get too caught up on all that. I'd say it's rather safe to assume we're all equally nervous about offending the other here." Feeling her next breath come clearer than its prior, she carries on effortlessly, more warmly than she meant to. "Loukas' parents have never ceased being Duke Basilios and Duchess Procopia to me, simply because of how deeply I respect them, but it's made them no less dear to me than Falkon and Ariadne are, despite my lack of formalities with them."

From what she can gather, it's refreshingly frank, and something that seems to strike Sighni further as she takes it in. She allows herself a relieved breath, too. "That… That makes me happy to hear, thank you." Another prod at her food. "But I think… It will take some time."

Absent-mindedly grabbing his wife's hand, Basilios allows himself to reach out once again. "And we'll be here to help you with anything you need in that time," he begins, glancing towards his middle child. "Especially Falkon, I'm sure."

The young lord half-chokes as he swallows and hoarsely coughs out his reply. "Right."

Basilios tries not to acknowledge Procopia's reflexive moment of agitation as he nods. "Not to mention that one of your sisters should be joining us shortly; surely that's something to look forward to in the meantime!"

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