renascentem

indebted

"Ma'am, the sun has already set and curfew is soon.  Does your husband know you're here?" The guard at the front of the watch tower seemed annoyed before she could even introduce herself.

"I've come to see Sir Vassilis, Strategos Evzonoi. Is he available?"

This guard shot a backward glance at the other soldier in the room with vexation.

"What business do you have with the honorable Vassilis, at this time of night?"

"We don't need any more beggars," added the other man.

"Please," she pleaded with them, "Sir Favian sent me. He said he has already been in contact, if you could just let me talk to him for a moment."

The two were not believing a word she said, but a droning voice from the top of the stairs called, "Let her up, you two."

Eleadora exhaled a sigh of relief as the two grew even more in disbelief at their boss's response. She nodded politely at the two men, trying to hide her smugness. Stubbornly, she held a naive hope that he would be able to solve all of her problems because of one slip of fabric. It was too upsetting to imagine what she would do next, on her own. Also, she hated the thought that all of Damon's taunting was true.

The office was small, almost a closet-space, with a heavy desk shoved into it. Vassilis looked about the same age as Favian, perhaps slightly younger, with a sterner expression and darker complexion.

"Lady Eleadora, pleasure to meet you," He smiled tryingly, gesturing for her to walk in. She shuffled in, closing the door and sitting down to face him. Her hands fidgeted with the crest before she spoke.

"Sir Vassilis," Her voice was unsteady, "The pleasure is mine. Sir Favian has spoken highly of you."

"Sir Favian is a dear friend of mine," He admitted kindly, "He has spoken well of you, my Lady. It is unfortunate, your situation, uhm.. as of late."

There, striking the topic head-on instead of dancing around it. She sighed heavily, handing him the crest.

"I wanted to offer you this, both as proof of my identity but also as an extension of my gratitude, as an Archon, to you."

He eyed the crest with intrigue, but his face spoke otherwise.

"Lady Eleadora," He took a deep breath, "Allow me to preface by saying, on a personal level, I mean no ill will or harm to you. If Favian has put his trust in you, then I trust his judgment."

She pursed her lips. Here comes the bad news, she anticipated with dread.

"However. I'm sure you are aware, our Archon is- er, was very fond of Lord Paulos. I'm afraid there is nothing officially I can do for you, my lady. Though I am sympathetic to your cause. Perhaps, I can help find you a place to stay until you are back onto your feet."

Her heart sunk, though she had to admit she had feared this all along.  It coming to fruition was almost too much to bear, but she did not want to show it. She could not owe him her saftey or shelter.  So, concealing her apprehension and disappointment, she responded lightly, "I appreciate your kindness, regardless.  Thank you, Sir Vasillis, but I will be capable of caring for myself for the time being."

Vasillis frowned, narrowing his eyes in thought, "I wish there was more I could do for you, my lady.  Perhaps, keep in touch with me, and I shall keep you updated on Sir Paulos and your polis."

She nodded grimly and tried to force a smile.  She had no idea how she would care for herself, or even what to do after this meeting, but it would be done.  She would survive, somehow, on her own.