As Eos ushered in the day over the Mycenaean anaktora, the inaugural rays of Helios tiptoed across the frigid lithos floors, inching towards the heart of the opulent residence where Princess Eirene was already roused from Hypnos's embrace. The anaktora thrummed with the day's proetoimasia, yet none of the commotion perturbed her as gravely as the prospect of another day shackled to monotonous choreographed symposia.

"Elpizo you have contrived something more enthralling than the previous experience," Eirene declared, her voice resonating with the authority of basilisa and the acuity of an intellect unchallenged. She took her stance in the epicenter of her thalamos, her diadem listing slightly from its rightful place. "If I must endure another hemera of tiresome rhaphsodia or lend my ousia to the aoidoi strumming the same ancient melodies, I may just elope to the hills atop my hippos myself!"