CHAPTER 4: "Unwanted praises, Unwanted attention, Desirable Encounter"
Heretofore, King Heracles had been eager to entertain his wife's kinsmen to please the Lord of Brittany, but Endymion's presence seemed to ease the political pressure for a while.
For his part, Endymion very well avoided all the celebration and feasting that Heracles and Amphitritus had contrived. But as not to offend his hosts to the limit, Endymion did allow Heracles to make him known throughout the palace grounds, for the king did somehow enjoy that bit. As he had done many times before, Heracles made this a mountain out of a molehill, much to Endymion's despair. "Constantinople is in the prime of her youth! `Tis not the time for me to make the lesser of things!" Heracles would declare.
To Endymion, it was quite a fiasco, but at least Heracles was happy, and Endymion felt blithe to please him. In the uncomfortable appearance of Queen Amphitritus, Prince Enphialtes, and his wife Ambrogina, Valentitian, Deucalion, and the seven Oreads, Heracles related his fabricated story regarding Endymion's presence with overflowing sentiment and glee, while Endymion virtually suffered moral degradation from that ridiculous tale in front of such royalty!
In her state of queenly decorum, Amphitritus felt enraptured at Heracles' tale and even praised Endymion for his partaking on Constantinople's behalf. Her son Ephialtes and his wife Ambrogina also input their gratefulness, though still doubting Heracles' story a bit. However, Valentianian and Deucalion regarded the tale with a dubious look, whereas Endymion dismissed the blatant Brittanian arrogance. He would very well prefer to be thought of as a slavish disciple of Heracles instead of a flouting Welsh.
Endymion surprisingly escaped unscathed from this quite interesting turn of events and took leave to the scenic courtyard while Heracles' royal court voiced their compassionate thoughts of the king's eccentric lackey.
Wandering thought the vast grounds outside Heracles' domain, Endymion pondered his own integrity regarding his existence in Constantinople. The poor mercenary had evaded the illiberal sovereignties, but Venus still yet another trap for him, which lay in the fancy of the Oreads.
Lavinia, as well as the others, was under the assumption of their belated entrance to Heracles' estranged companion, whom very well never mentioned after the campaign in Wales. Curious to discover the mercenary, all except Selenity eavesdropped on Endymion's private counsel. Soon enough, however, they confronted him gleefully. Though caught off guard, Endymion maintained a blasé exterior.
"As I have heard from afar, are not there supposed to be seven Oreads?" was Endymion's grand address. The girls laughed gaily, which was the unmistakable sound of tinkling bells.
Lavinia: "Oh, there is. But only six makes the almighty treasure of Constantinople."
Electra: "You hail from whence, dear sir? And what is your title?
Endymion: "Endymion. I am but a humble Welsh mercenary."
Romaine: "How utterly delightful! We have acquainted all but this particular man. And, sir, you do know who we all are, lest our rudeness made us forget proper introductions."
Endymion: "You are Constantinople's beauties, no more, no less."
Natali: "You must be fatigued and especially lonely after such travels. Constantinople and we hope to accommodate you well."
Persephone and Elison said in unison: "The golden-throned lady that is your wife must be vexed at your most perilous exertions."
Endymion: "She would if I had one." As soon as he had uttered so, the Oreads chuckled slyly, not even a bit mortified at their blunt statement.
Lavinia: "Ahh.then you must have our company."
Endymion: "As would any man, but I want only to see the bearer of the crescent moon." All at once, the eyes of the girls darkened sinisterly. He continued, "Not to offend your ladyships, but pretty girls, though not always equal, can be found in any part of the world, but a phenomenon such as the one on this maiden's face is anything but one to let slip by."
Electra: "`Tis true, that is your fancy, but it will alter soon enough, for the disparity between mirth and Selenity is far too great!"
Romaine: "You will receive no more than a faint and worthless tracing on a dour face. No love or desire exists in that wretched girl."
Persephone: "Do as though please but we will be waiting."
Endymion: "Perhaps there is some truth in your words, but I am one to prefer a dignified lady of immeasurable decorum." He left then, and they stared contemptuously after him.
Free again from yet another spiteful onslaught, Endymion wandered through the rose menagerie when he spied an agile form kneeling before rose vines that slithered up the abode's sidings. She had her back to him and was oblivious of his presence. On the other hand, he reveled at hers. She hummed softly, her small hands caressing the delicate rose buds. He noticed her flaxen hair all done up in the most exotic fashion, which he regarded as very unique. The two buns made her look like the rabbits he hunted sporadically, and the tails hanging from them were not unlike rabbits' drooped ears-long, long ears that dragged on the floor.
Endymion took a step and a twig betrayed him to her obliviousness, and he mentally appealed to her clear blue eyes, downcast face, and twisted mouth. The crescent moon was not a tracing, but in fact it glowed eerily, drawing his most unnatural attention. For a moment, the attraction was mutual, and she would have appreciated his tall and well-honed profile with captivating, midnight blue eyes, deeper than her own, and rugged black hair, had she not been who she was-cold and unrelenting, yet innocent and fearful.
To her eternal annoyance, she was prompted to speak first, with no salutation.
Selenity: "You are a hero of Constantinople according to King Heracles."
Endymion: "Hardly. I was merely an assistance in Heracles' path at the convenient time."
Selenity, dismissing his title as hero: "You referred to my king by name only. `Tis treason for anyone else from Constantinople or Byzantine, for that matter."
Endymion: "I am of Wales, and Heracles is not king there."
Selenity: "But his highness is here, and you are here."
Edymion: "He is king to me only when he chooses to be, and, unfortunately, that isn't too often."
She looked at him skeptically, boring into him. "Hmm.A traveling soldier, swearing allegiance to an available lord, a king actually, to fight with him, but barely acknowledges his title." He now was intrigued by this little precocious who is fireworks under a shroud.
Endymion: "So you do not believe Heracles' tale."
Selenity: "I've heard it vaguely, and it does not sound believable. I know my king hides something disturbing, but he is nonetheless a great king." She had just jumped to defend him so quickly, so afterwards he revealed the truth to her of his relations with Heracles.
Selenity: "Why tell me, the lowest of the Oreads? You don't even know my name."
Endymion: "Lady Selenity, my apologies. I tell because I assume you are not like the others. Your crescent moon is compelling and at the same time disconcerting. Strangely, I trust you with the truth. And also that you are the only one virtuous enough to accept Heracles for his mistakes."
Selenity: "Oh.As virtuous as you?"
Endymion (amusedly): "Touché, milady."
At sunset, Selenity had begun to develop an attractive rapport for this gentleman caller after several exchanges of words. He was witty and complimented her wordlessly; he was charming yet never unctuous; he was never demanding like all of Constantinople's previous extroverts, including its current ones. His name had strangely manifested his most alluring nature. It echoed greatness. And for the first time, her roses were momentarily forgotten.
Endymion: "The story goes interestingly about how the Seven Oreads came to be. You took the rose, so it is your fancy."
Selenity: "It was given to me, actually, by Heracles. And, yes, I am as thorny as it is. That is why the other girls do not think me worthy."
Endymion: "Because you do not love."
Selenity: "Because I am of a virgin soul. They themselves lust, but they never love. They see the Oread as a symbol of love and whatnot; there is plenty of that to dole out around here." That was truly and esoteric answer, meaningful only to one who said it.
Endymion: "They envy you, milady; they envy when guests still favor you even if you will give nothing but a smile, which, in this case, is enough for anyone." She beamed shyly and leaned close to whisper, "Lavinia thinks me stupid. Romaine thinks me a hideous Medusa. Elison thinks my wit is of a rock. Natali thinks me not fit for any suitor. Persephone thinks me a pitiful maid. And Electra thinks I do not know what is expected of me. What opinion that is yours?"
Endymion: "I think you are as worthy as you believe you are."
Selenity: "Well, that is a very sweet speculation. You are a man of sophisticated words, contrary to popular belief. The Oreads must enjoy your company."
Endymion: "I would rather they not, but you have done so quite well." She suddenly turned away to face the roses, eerily alighting them with that strange crescent moon.
Selentity: "I should think you a man of little or no interests."
Endymion: "What little interest there is lies in your crescent moon, milady."
Selenity: "Quite right-a phenomenon to many a lusty eyes."
Endymion: "No, a valued treasure to a lowly mercenary-truly the treasure of Constantinople."
Selenity, with mock consternation: "Oh, what men wouldn't say."
Endymion: "What men wouldn't do! But I digress.."
Lady Selene (the moon) rose to cast surreal shadows upon the fleshy earth. Endymion bade Selenity a good eve and retreated to his stateroom, while she stared after him. "Good night, milord, till it be morrow," she returned the gesture. In truth, she liked the affable man. Endymion was neither arrogant nor evil in the detestable lusty sort of manner.
Needless to say, Endymion returned such considerate feelings. Unlike the other Oreads, Selenity was very resisted and shy. She had a strangely fearful look in her eyes that blatantly manifested a tantalizing innocence, which spurred Endymion's fondness of her. With her first time in a fanciful position such as this, Selenity handled herself quite well. She secretly reveled in Endymion if not her now mundane roses.
* * * * *
To be continue.
What do you think?
Heretofore, King Heracles had been eager to entertain his wife's kinsmen to please the Lord of Brittany, but Endymion's presence seemed to ease the political pressure for a while.
For his part, Endymion very well avoided all the celebration and feasting that Heracles and Amphitritus had contrived. But as not to offend his hosts to the limit, Endymion did allow Heracles to make him known throughout the palace grounds, for the king did somehow enjoy that bit. As he had done many times before, Heracles made this a mountain out of a molehill, much to Endymion's despair. "Constantinople is in the prime of her youth! `Tis not the time for me to make the lesser of things!" Heracles would declare.
To Endymion, it was quite a fiasco, but at least Heracles was happy, and Endymion felt blithe to please him. In the uncomfortable appearance of Queen Amphitritus, Prince Enphialtes, and his wife Ambrogina, Valentitian, Deucalion, and the seven Oreads, Heracles related his fabricated story regarding Endymion's presence with overflowing sentiment and glee, while Endymion virtually suffered moral degradation from that ridiculous tale in front of such royalty!
In her state of queenly decorum, Amphitritus felt enraptured at Heracles' tale and even praised Endymion for his partaking on Constantinople's behalf. Her son Ephialtes and his wife Ambrogina also input their gratefulness, though still doubting Heracles' story a bit. However, Valentianian and Deucalion regarded the tale with a dubious look, whereas Endymion dismissed the blatant Brittanian arrogance. He would very well prefer to be thought of as a slavish disciple of Heracles instead of a flouting Welsh.
Endymion surprisingly escaped unscathed from this quite interesting turn of events and took leave to the scenic courtyard while Heracles' royal court voiced their compassionate thoughts of the king's eccentric lackey.
Wandering thought the vast grounds outside Heracles' domain, Endymion pondered his own integrity regarding his existence in Constantinople. The poor mercenary had evaded the illiberal sovereignties, but Venus still yet another trap for him, which lay in the fancy of the Oreads.
Lavinia, as well as the others, was under the assumption of their belated entrance to Heracles' estranged companion, whom very well never mentioned after the campaign in Wales. Curious to discover the mercenary, all except Selenity eavesdropped on Endymion's private counsel. Soon enough, however, they confronted him gleefully. Though caught off guard, Endymion maintained a blasé exterior.
"As I have heard from afar, are not there supposed to be seven Oreads?" was Endymion's grand address. The girls laughed gaily, which was the unmistakable sound of tinkling bells.
Lavinia: "Oh, there is. But only six makes the almighty treasure of Constantinople."
Electra: "You hail from whence, dear sir? And what is your title?
Endymion: "Endymion. I am but a humble Welsh mercenary."
Romaine: "How utterly delightful! We have acquainted all but this particular man. And, sir, you do know who we all are, lest our rudeness made us forget proper introductions."
Endymion: "You are Constantinople's beauties, no more, no less."
Natali: "You must be fatigued and especially lonely after such travels. Constantinople and we hope to accommodate you well."
Persephone and Elison said in unison: "The golden-throned lady that is your wife must be vexed at your most perilous exertions."
Endymion: "She would if I had one." As soon as he had uttered so, the Oreads chuckled slyly, not even a bit mortified at their blunt statement.
Lavinia: "Ahh.then you must have our company."
Endymion: "As would any man, but I want only to see the bearer of the crescent moon." All at once, the eyes of the girls darkened sinisterly. He continued, "Not to offend your ladyships, but pretty girls, though not always equal, can be found in any part of the world, but a phenomenon such as the one on this maiden's face is anything but one to let slip by."
Electra: "`Tis true, that is your fancy, but it will alter soon enough, for the disparity between mirth and Selenity is far too great!"
Romaine: "You will receive no more than a faint and worthless tracing on a dour face. No love or desire exists in that wretched girl."
Persephone: "Do as though please but we will be waiting."
Endymion: "Perhaps there is some truth in your words, but I am one to prefer a dignified lady of immeasurable decorum." He left then, and they stared contemptuously after him.
Free again from yet another spiteful onslaught, Endymion wandered through the rose menagerie when he spied an agile form kneeling before rose vines that slithered up the abode's sidings. She had her back to him and was oblivious of his presence. On the other hand, he reveled at hers. She hummed softly, her small hands caressing the delicate rose buds. He noticed her flaxen hair all done up in the most exotic fashion, which he regarded as very unique. The two buns made her look like the rabbits he hunted sporadically, and the tails hanging from them were not unlike rabbits' drooped ears-long, long ears that dragged on the floor.
Endymion took a step and a twig betrayed him to her obliviousness, and he mentally appealed to her clear blue eyes, downcast face, and twisted mouth. The crescent moon was not a tracing, but in fact it glowed eerily, drawing his most unnatural attention. For a moment, the attraction was mutual, and she would have appreciated his tall and well-honed profile with captivating, midnight blue eyes, deeper than her own, and rugged black hair, had she not been who she was-cold and unrelenting, yet innocent and fearful.
To her eternal annoyance, she was prompted to speak first, with no salutation.
Selenity: "You are a hero of Constantinople according to King Heracles."
Endymion: "Hardly. I was merely an assistance in Heracles' path at the convenient time."
Selenity, dismissing his title as hero: "You referred to my king by name only. `Tis treason for anyone else from Constantinople or Byzantine, for that matter."
Endymion: "I am of Wales, and Heracles is not king there."
Selenity: "But his highness is here, and you are here."
Edymion: "He is king to me only when he chooses to be, and, unfortunately, that isn't too often."
She looked at him skeptically, boring into him. "Hmm.A traveling soldier, swearing allegiance to an available lord, a king actually, to fight with him, but barely acknowledges his title." He now was intrigued by this little precocious who is fireworks under a shroud.
Endymion: "So you do not believe Heracles' tale."
Selenity: "I've heard it vaguely, and it does not sound believable. I know my king hides something disturbing, but he is nonetheless a great king." She had just jumped to defend him so quickly, so afterwards he revealed the truth to her of his relations with Heracles.
Selenity: "Why tell me, the lowest of the Oreads? You don't even know my name."
Endymion: "Lady Selenity, my apologies. I tell because I assume you are not like the others. Your crescent moon is compelling and at the same time disconcerting. Strangely, I trust you with the truth. And also that you are the only one virtuous enough to accept Heracles for his mistakes."
Selenity: "Oh.As virtuous as you?"
Endymion (amusedly): "Touché, milady."
At sunset, Selenity had begun to develop an attractive rapport for this gentleman caller after several exchanges of words. He was witty and complimented her wordlessly; he was charming yet never unctuous; he was never demanding like all of Constantinople's previous extroverts, including its current ones. His name had strangely manifested his most alluring nature. It echoed greatness. And for the first time, her roses were momentarily forgotten.
Endymion: "The story goes interestingly about how the Seven Oreads came to be. You took the rose, so it is your fancy."
Selenity: "It was given to me, actually, by Heracles. And, yes, I am as thorny as it is. That is why the other girls do not think me worthy."
Endymion: "Because you do not love."
Selenity: "Because I am of a virgin soul. They themselves lust, but they never love. They see the Oread as a symbol of love and whatnot; there is plenty of that to dole out around here." That was truly and esoteric answer, meaningful only to one who said it.
Endymion: "They envy you, milady; they envy when guests still favor you even if you will give nothing but a smile, which, in this case, is enough for anyone." She beamed shyly and leaned close to whisper, "Lavinia thinks me stupid. Romaine thinks me a hideous Medusa. Elison thinks my wit is of a rock. Natali thinks me not fit for any suitor. Persephone thinks me a pitiful maid. And Electra thinks I do not know what is expected of me. What opinion that is yours?"
Endymion: "I think you are as worthy as you believe you are."
Selenity: "Well, that is a very sweet speculation. You are a man of sophisticated words, contrary to popular belief. The Oreads must enjoy your company."
Endymion: "I would rather they not, but you have done so quite well." She suddenly turned away to face the roses, eerily alighting them with that strange crescent moon.
Selentity: "I should think you a man of little or no interests."
Endymion: "What little interest there is lies in your crescent moon, milady."
Selenity: "Quite right-a phenomenon to many a lusty eyes."
Endymion: "No, a valued treasure to a lowly mercenary-truly the treasure of Constantinople."
Selenity, with mock consternation: "Oh, what men wouldn't say."
Endymion: "What men wouldn't do! But I digress.."
Lady Selene (the moon) rose to cast surreal shadows upon the fleshy earth. Endymion bade Selenity a good eve and retreated to his stateroom, while she stared after him. "Good night, milord, till it be morrow," she returned the gesture. In truth, she liked the affable man. Endymion was neither arrogant nor evil in the detestable lusty sort of manner.
Needless to say, Endymion returned such considerate feelings. Unlike the other Oreads, Selenity was very resisted and shy. She had a strangely fearful look in her eyes that blatantly manifested a tantalizing innocence, which spurred Endymion's fondness of her. With her first time in a fanciful position such as this, Selenity handled herself quite well. She secretly reveled in Endymion if not her now mundane roses.
* * * * *
To be continue.
What do you think?