tē kallistē. [penthesilea]

[helen zervos]

τῇ καλλίστῃ

to the fairest

It's the first time she's been to the Grimoire main house in years -- not since her childhood, actually, when her parents met his parents in some sort of self-absorbed, superficial reach for 'cordial relations.' Back then, the didn't care much for the scrawny, too-upstanding blond boy they said would be her friend; nor did she care for the boring, droning discussions that seemed to stretch on for hours.

(Money makes people insufferable; age, even moreso.)

But she doesn't put a voice to her thoughts, because as uncomfortably unfamiliar the mansion is Helen isn't stupid. She's sixteen and more than a little anxious to be here again, yes, but she's also very much aware of what the current head of this household thinks of her. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out, honestly (even if Helen is one).

Her hands are folded perfectly in her lap, her back straight and spine stretched as she sits with her ankles crossed. She's the picture of ladylike grace, and yet she still can't seem to compete with the quietly-imposing woman before her.

Damn you, Hector, for leaving me with your mother.

Helen respectfully inclines her head in greeting. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Lady Grimoire."

penthesilea

[penthesilea]

the judgement of paris

the grimoire family has been around for generations, and the house that penthesilea herself has inherited has seen almost all of it. it is an old mansion, sprawling in its grounds and generous in its lands. it is still in the style when it was first built, painstakingly maintained by penthesilea's mother, and now, herself, along with her helpers. on a normal day, the sheer history is something that she breathes in and wraps around her shoulders like a second shawl. instead, she pours tea for herself and the young woman in front of her with simple, elegant movements that have long since been drilled and then adopted as her nature. helen zervos is not someone that she would exactly recommend as a companion for her eldest son, but penthesilea will not dictate who he includes in his social circle. hopefully, she does not need to. still, that does not mean that penthesila cannot do some... pruning, on her own. "the pleasure is all mine, dear girl," she says instead with a smile. the press of lips against her teeth is genuine. her eyes are sharp and searching. "please, tea?" penthesilea picks up her own cup, gestures with it, and sips. it's chamomile, her favorite, and the flavour and heat seeps into her bones with a content sigh. abrax is thorough in his duties, as usual. some would say that now is the time that she should make small talk -- and indeed, had this been any other, penthesilea will have gladly asked after the weather. others would say that now is the time that she should mention business, as helen of the zervos family will be a powerful woman. "hector has spoken about you," she says instead, and puts down her cup with a small noise of ceramic against ceramic. smiles. "i hope you two are on good relations?" an understatement, but penthesilea would rather check first before moving on. if they are not, then this entire conversation is not necessary. if they are, as hector's words have led her to believe... well. that's what she has called helen here for, isn't it? helen zervos