Post by Barates Aster on Jun 24, 2012 21:29:25 GMT -5
Eyes averted away from the queen in favor of staring out of the window as he tried to regain his dignity, Barates nearly missed the tear trickling down Aria’s cheek as well as the soft sob that accompanied it. Almost, but not quite.
Features twisting minutely, Barates flinched. Perhaps mentioning the late pharaoh hadn’t been the best of ideas. It had only been a short while since his death, and needless to say the Queen was still obviously distraught, as were her children. Biting his lip nervously, the Greek man winced, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
As he could see it, there were three ways this could go. And well, most of them ended up with him dying. Scenario one: he comforts the Queen, queen gets mad, off goes his head. Scenario two: He doesn’t comfort the queen, the queen gets mad, off goes his head. Scenario Three: He runs out of there, the queen gets mad, off goes his head. Hand moving inconspicuously upwards to cradle his neck as his face took on a greenish tinge, Barates shook his head and bit his lip as he glanced at the queen from the corner of his eye.
Okay. So-so running was definitely out. No matter how he tried to imagine the situation, he ended up dead. And well, to put it bluntly, that just wouldn’t do. So-so that left….Barates face turned an odd combination of white and red. That meant he had to comfort her.
Oh by Hermes and Zeus above how was this going to work. He had refused the queen twice. Reminded her of her dead husband. And er…stared at her somewhat inappropriately. Still-they, they were his fault right?
Eyes narrowing as he finished his mental pep-talk and scolding, Barates slowly inched towards the Queen and when he judged himself close enough (though in reality, a comical amount of distance separated the two as Barates had barely moved an inch or two from his position squeezed into the corner of the sofa), the slave gulped and then extended his hand. Slowly. Slowly. Ah-there. Palm just barely brushing the Queen’s back, Barates threw on the best comforting smile he could muster. So what if it looked as if he had eaten a lemon whole and then gone for a walk in the fish market where the fishermen threw the fish they could no longer sell? It-it was the thought that counted right?! Right?!
Fighting back a rising sort of hysteria as scenarios flashed through his mind, Barates gulped and strengthened his grin, weak though it was, and gave the best comforting advice he could think of. “Err.....It…it okay? Daughters here?”
Well, Barates thought with a wince, he never had been good at comforting women.
Features twisting minutely, Barates flinched. Perhaps mentioning the late pharaoh hadn’t been the best of ideas. It had only been a short while since his death, and needless to say the Queen was still obviously distraught, as were her children. Biting his lip nervously, the Greek man winced, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
As he could see it, there were three ways this could go. And well, most of them ended up with him dying. Scenario one: he comforts the Queen, queen gets mad, off goes his head. Scenario two: He doesn’t comfort the queen, the queen gets mad, off goes his head. Scenario Three: He runs out of there, the queen gets mad, off goes his head. Hand moving inconspicuously upwards to cradle his neck as his face took on a greenish tinge, Barates shook his head and bit his lip as he glanced at the queen from the corner of his eye.
Okay. So-so running was definitely out. No matter how he tried to imagine the situation, he ended up dead. And well, to put it bluntly, that just wouldn’t do. So-so that left….Barates face turned an odd combination of white and red. That meant he had to comfort her.
Oh by Hermes and Zeus above how was this going to work. He had refused the queen twice. Reminded her of her dead husband. And er…stared at her somewhat inappropriately. Still-they, they were his fault right?
Eyes narrowing as he finished his mental pep-talk and scolding, Barates slowly inched towards the Queen and when he judged himself close enough (though in reality, a comical amount of distance separated the two as Barates had barely moved an inch or two from his position squeezed into the corner of the sofa), the slave gulped and then extended his hand. Slowly. Slowly. Ah-there. Palm just barely brushing the Queen’s back, Barates threw on the best comforting smile he could muster. So what if it looked as if he had eaten a lemon whole and then gone for a walk in the fish market where the fishermen threw the fish they could no longer sell? It-it was the thought that counted right?! Right?!
Fighting back a rising sort of hysteria as scenarios flashed through his mind, Barates gulped and strengthened his grin, weak though it was, and gave the best comforting advice he could think of. “Err.....It…it okay? Daughters here?”
Well, Barates thought with a wince, he never had been good at comforting women.
