"And what do we think of the Greeks," Padme asked Briseis, who spoke quite well for her young age, but had a habit of picking up things she shouldn't. Which I'll admit was both Padmes and my own fault.
The young girl was seated upon the floor in front of Padme while I wove. I looked down at them in time to catch Briseis stick her tongue out in response.
Padme clapped with glee, "Did you see that Andromache! She's learning!" Briseis mimicked Padme and clapped her hands with a large smile upon her young face. Which please Padme to no end, my handmaiden looked to me, "I want one."
The mere thought of Padme as a mother was folly, "You won't even care for the young horses in the stables. What will you do with a young child?" While I asked that of Padme the sound of a door slamming echoed through my chambers. I continued to wrap yarn onto a ball, it was only Paris.
Padme looked to Briseis, "Can you say Paris?"
Briseis mimicked, "Paaris."
"Can you say scoundrel?"
"Padme," I scolded, "Don't be so honest with her!"
Padme rolled her eyes, Briseis tried her best to mimic the act but couldn't. So Padme then asked, "Can you say dishonorable lusty fool?"
"Padme," I growled.
Paris came into my bedroom and grinned at the sight of his niece, "Briseis! Are you hungry? I've brought you a picnic."
I looked out the window and saw it was indeed noon. It was hotter then it should have been for the early hour, the young prince looked red enough to fall over from the heat. His hair sparkled from sweat, even his skin had a thin layer of moisture.
I myself was used to such heat, as was Padme, though I would admit it grew tiresome. Both of us had dressed in thin dresses today and wore our hair up. When Briseis came we stripped her down to one layer and pulled her hair up as well, why her mother insisted on dressing her still puzzled me.
Briseis clapped as her uncle sat down beside her, he set down a hand-woven basket and began to take out fruit, bread, and meat. A small container of wine and a few glasses. Padme snatched a fig from the pile. Briseis mimicked the action, Paris quickly took the fruit, "No sweetie, I have to cut this up for you."
I watched as Paris set down a plate in front of his niece. While I still wound a ball of yarn I watched him. He cut up a few grapes and put them on the plate, he then cut up some lamb in small cubes for her and then he even tore the hard crust from the bread and gave her the soft part. It was rather sweet to watch him care for the young girl.
She picked up the grapes and chewed on them first. Only when she had a plate of small chopped up food did Paris begin to fix his own.
"Padme, show Paris what you taught her," I encouraged.
Paris enjoyed a good joke. Padme smiled and tapped Briseis on her small shoulder, "Briseis, what do we think of the Greeks." The young girl then stuck her tongue out in response. Paris grinned and looked at me, "You've begun to teach her bad manners without me! How dare you!" Though his comment was meant as a joke, and there was a broad smile on his face. I threw my ball of yarn at him.
Padme grinned while she ate her fig, she was odd, and she didn't even slice it open when she ate it.
Briseis smiled and then threw a grape at Paris. Who caught my ball and pointed at me, "Will you stop throwing things at me!"
"She throws things at everyone. She threw a roll at Cassandra and a marble ball from the library at Caedes." Padme told Paris so helpfully, to which she added, "Just be glad she threw the ball and not her knife at you." I snatched my ball of yarn from him and began to roll it up again.
"It wouldn't be the first knife he's had thrown at him," I told Padme but kept my eyes on Paris. Who rather haughtily corrected me, "It was not a knife."
I lifted both my eyebrows, I had been the one to convince the blacksmith not to gut Paris.
"It was a dagger," Paris told us.
Briseis had also been there, she looked between us and pointed at Paris, "Bad man."
Paris nodded, "Yes he was. See! She understands me, she understands the Blacksmith has had it out for me since I courted his daughter." At the mention of Blacksmith Briseis remembered the hectic night. She repeated what the Blacksmith had called Paris, "Pig whore." And then she ate a grape, having no idea what the word meant.
Padme covered her mouth as Paris looked at the child with wide eyes. Damn, I thought she had forgotten that word. It'd taken hours for Paris to explain to her mother where her child had learned that word. Briseis clapped and repeated it in song, just as the Blacksmith had though she sang it in a song.
"It looks like you have already taught her some bad manners. Shall we take her to the market and teach her more?" I asked him, making a note never to mention the Blacksmith around Briseis again.