At the measuring gaze, Finn stilled and willed himself to be calm and open, rather than bring up walls made unnecessary by his vigilant vestments. He was reminded of a tidbit of wisdom offered to a young Finn by an early teacher, that while people had civilization and all, they were still animals. In the wild, when an animal was being watched closely, it was most often because another animal wanted to eat them. She had been speaking of performing before crowds, but Phocion's gaze could be more dangerous than all the eyes in an opera house.
He wasn't afraid anymore. Phocion and the Vigilia had helped him learn to rely upon his skills and his training, his power and his prestige to keep him alive. And Aværys didn't mark cowards.
All the same, he didn't release his breath until Phocion began to speak again, and then he offered a faint smile in return.
"Then it is fortunate, I suppose, that the Deus Imperator chose men with different skills and different paths that needn't come into conflict. I will support him inasmuch as his plans bring more glory to the Divine Twins. I will assuage my hunger in other ways." Janus had called him absurd once for his strange worldview, and he was correct from a Solunarian perspective. Finn's thrall had been a slave, and taken more out of friendship and compassion than hunger, although that had certainly flickered to life in the taking. The next in his sights was a popular songstress, but she could be the next step in his rise to power.
Finn supposed Varvara had chosen wisely, as well, in that there were checks and balances to keep Arvælyn and Phocion from conflict, Cithæra not the least mitigating force.
"Nae," he assured his sometimes complement, "when a God tells you that you weren't meant to hide your light under a basket, you know that, for whatever the reason, you deserve to shine." There was a touch of awe in his voice and around his eyes at those circumstances. He smiled it away after a moment and raised a glass. "I promise, your Exalted brother and I can multitask." He took a sip. "And I look forward to seeing how you support your cousin Vlahos."
He wasn't afraid anymore. Phocion and the Vigilia had helped him learn to rely upon his skills and his training, his power and his prestige to keep him alive. And Aværys didn't mark cowards.
All the same, he didn't release his breath until Phocion began to speak again, and then he offered a faint smile in return.
"Then it is fortunate, I suppose, that the Deus Imperator chose men with different skills and different paths that needn't come into conflict. I will support him inasmuch as his plans bring more glory to the Divine Twins. I will assuage my hunger in other ways." Janus had called him absurd once for his strange worldview, and he was correct from a Solunarian perspective. Finn's thrall had been a slave, and taken more out of friendship and compassion than hunger, although that had certainly flickered to life in the taking. The next in his sights was a popular songstress, but she could be the next step in his rise to power.
Finn supposed Varvara had chosen wisely, as well, in that there were checks and balances to keep Arvælyn and Phocion from conflict, Cithæra not the least mitigating force.
"Nae," he assured his sometimes complement, "when a God tells you that you weren't meant to hide your light under a basket, you know that, for whatever the reason, you deserve to shine." There was a touch of awe in his voice and around his eyes at those circumstances. He smiled it away after a moment and raised a glass. "I promise, your Exalted brother and I can multitask." He took a sip. "And I look forward to seeing how you support your cousin Vlahos."