#imperialstart

[dexmedici]

      While he believed that no view could ever hold a torch to that of his beloved Florence, Niccolò had found a quiet moment to step away from his accounts to admire Paris away from the madness. Sapphire-like eyes wandered the view until his silence was interrupted by the sound of impending footsteps, bringing his attention to draw away from his surroundings and turned to the newcomer instead. ❝ I see I am not the only one to discover this hidden gem, at a time such as this it seems near impossible to find a moment to yourself. ❞

[anscl-blog1]

ansel swirled the wine within his glass as he stood close to the outer skirts of the castle’s walls, his eyes flickering between the gardens and the royals as well as nobility that littered the greenery. “i didn’t think paris was this beautiful.” he mused as he sipped his wine, “were they hoping to sway us with that beauty?”

[oblitathea-blog]

      A moment to compose herself, that was all Dorothea had wanted. From the moment she had arrived in Paris from the Vatican she had been watched carefully by the guards sent to retrieve her, even once inside the safety of the castle walls she had not been able to be rid of them, but there was a moment where one of them faltered. Thea had found another door which led out of her chambers and used it to be free of her guards for a little while. The Princess was walking at a quick pace in the hopes of getting some distance before they noticed she was gone, glancing behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed just before she felt herself bump into another. ❝ Oh! I am so sorry, pray you forgive me, that was very careless on my part. ❞

[aileenofscotland-blog]

“do you miss your home?” she asked. aileen fiddled with her fingers looking at her feet. “sometimes i think about home…scotland and i miss everything about it. when i see any sort of green, i feel like i can smell the grass. and when i see people dancing, i think of the plains and the cheerful drunkeness of parties at home. and every time i see someone pick up a drink i think of scottish ale and how warm it makes everyone feel.“ she sighed, “most of them don’t even care that i’m a women….they care i’m scottish. and that’s all you need. is to to love your country. here i am automatically assumed as less.” aileen took another deep breath, “i just miss home was wondering if anyone else did.”

[prinsfrederik-blog]

     Though the journey from ‘s-Gravenhage to Paris was of reasonable length, Frederik had taken his sweet time. He had taken many stops and though most people were honoured to be visited by their prince, he did not do it for them. Although his interests lay with things as partying, he did not rush to make it in time for the ball. He guessed there would be more and he tended to enjoy the less formal parties over the forced formalities and awkward dances. So there he was –– a glass of wine in hand, making his way through the drawing room after dinner. “Before you start, no, I am not tired from my journey, nor did I have a proper reason to not attend the ball. If those were the only pleasantries you were interested in, I’d rather not waste my time.”

[cecilixsms-blog]

uneasiness settled in her bones like an unwanted intruder, shedding ice into the once hopeful behavior cecilia had sported. she’d been close to one of the verandas, sipping wine and conversing with her betrothed when the word spread like the plague. the queen of france was missing, her escort dead. she searched frantically then - for her brother or her guard but found none. all resources were poured into the french queen’s retrieval. “how could this happen?” she felt the words escape her mouth, the tension shattering her usually satin soft tone.

[reiine-blog1]

genevieve often sauntered across the halls, her ladies in tow, as they tended to the guests of the castle. her lips were curled into a soft smile as she crossed one of the familiar faces, “it is a lovely day today, don’t you think?” she offered as her eyes swept across the hall, “the weather prompts a small recess. walk with me?”

[mirjamsibul-blog]

     “war does not end,” voice rings clear and confident. when queen mirjam speaks it is with intention - each word measured and spoken in resonant tones that ring through her chest. “it simply rests before returning with renewed vigor. to speak as if we will not again kill each other in due time is fallacy.” hip leans against the edge of the balcony’s railing, face a stoic is not unimpressed masque. “if you have come to talk of this period of peace, i suggest you find more amiable ears.” one ankle rotates idly and eyes move from horizon to whoever’s entered behind her.

[el-rey-filipe-blog]

it’s a stress headache. of course it’s a stress headache, what else would it be? he’s just arrived in the palace, he’s tired and nervous about peace negotiations. he wasn’t cut for this job, his father had groomed his brother for their entirety of their lives only so both of them would die and have filipe at complete loss. he’s pacing circles in his waiting room down the west wing of the palace, probably burning through the beautiful embroidered rug under his feet when the door creeks. “ it better be important. “ he groans at the door, not raising his face. “ if not, leave me be at once. “ he’s bitten his nail to bloody stubs so far and his stomach has become ill.  

[serpionovadaria-blog]

     fingers dance gracefully over the fine silks and threads that lay in a basket beside her. needlework is something taught to her as a child - fine embroideries she creates by hand. it seems to dasha a silly thing to spend time on, but she feels not like venturing out to seek libraries or instruments. with her she has her needlework, and it will have to do. perhaps when she is feeling a touch more conversational she will step through the door and scout other things to do.      a deep red floss is in the process of being threaded through a needle when ears catch the sound of someone at the door. the princess looks up with a mild smile playing at her lips. “you need not hover so - do enter, if you please. is there something you require?”

[anscl-blog1]

he of course didn’t know what to expect of such an event - but utter boredom was certainly not the cause. those french noble women were easy to impress, and the men seemed too quick to drunkness. the party was ending before it even began, and ansel found himself leaning against one of the pillars, the hallways carrying the sound of music hauntingly as he stared ahead at the stars that seemed to dance with the music too. “i sure hope the negotiations are not as stale as this party is.”

[deroyaled-blog]

     catalina sucked in a sharp breath when she realized what had just happened. her eyes wandered towards the spilt tray of food and the remnant of wine diffusing through both her skirt and the unknown man’s shirt. this was why she rarely ever rushed through the dining room. catalina opened her mouth and was about to utter an apology until the stranger’s eyes widened with rage, deep lines engraving his forehead. “you stupid girl! do you know how much this cost?” he hissed at her. plump lips snapped shut. if she had learned anything from being a servant, it’s that with royals like these, it was important to keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. catalina could feel his gaze grow stronger and stronger by the minute, though she feared it was no longer anger that thrived, but desire. he stepped closer and placed a hand underneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “you should be punished.” his words came out quietly but the meaning of it was as loud as anything else in the room. they stood there for a moment, his icey stare melting into her chocolate orbs. pig, she thought. he suddenly let go and stepped back, pointing towards the mess she had made on the floor. “pick it up.” he said. this time, his words were louder. the brunette did not hesitate to kneel, quickly picking up anything that she had dropped and putting it back on the silver tray. if you do not move out of my way, i will slit your throat in your sleep, she thought angrily. and she could do exactly that.

[dcnklad-blog]

“what’s with all the fuss?” the arrogance in his tone was prominent, and it was with aloofness that he took another sip of wine from his chalice. “if the king had been more vigilant, none of this would have happened. his man would be sitting there now, simpering and begging for scraps as he should be. instead his corpse shall be carted off to rot in the ground — pity.” the infliction in the word made it more than obvious that he did not mean his words. 

[cecilixsms-blog]

The air was tense with the fragile peace everyone was trying so difficulty to accept. Cecelia had noticed everyone was just to absorbed in their own missions, whether that had been seeking out new brides and formulating new alliances, or attempting to shatter what little peace they had. 

“I think we should hold a ball.” Cecilia mumbled, out loud and yet mostly to herself. “What’s the greatest way to put forth good intentions and away with the dire war memories than a good party?” 

[reiine-blog1]

she couldn’t stay in her chambers, and she couldn’t venture out to the greenhouse, her only solace. the only moderately open space was the throne room, where she stood close to the windows, her hands clasped tightly over her abdomen as she stared out at the gardens. the marks from the bonds were still red and fresh on her skin, and her lips where chapped still from the gag, and her heart couldn’t settle. her body flinched when she heard the movement behind her, having been too lost in though to realize someone had been announced and walked in. “forgive me,” she whispered in a quiet voice, “i was not aware someone was here as well.”

[sirdomhnall-blog]

“another!” domhnall’s exclamation was loud as he slammed the flagon of ale down on the table, shoving it aside and craning his neck in expectation, hoping to catch sight of the barkeep. “well what’n the ruddy hell is the use if he ain’t gonna fill me cup?” he complained, eyes narrowing a fraction. he was already a touch drunk, but in a tavern as rowdy as this, he was the least of the owner’s concerns. two men were already squaring up near the hearth, spouting nasty curses back and forth at each other. domhnall eyed them, almost hoping a fight broke out. “oi, barkeep — ” he tried again, and was met with a sneer and a crude gesture. his thirst was what finally got him to his feet, and he meandered to the counter, smacking down one of the golden sou that he had discovered was a funny term for french coin. “now can i have me drink? i’d much like it ’fore them two there go at it, if yeh don’ mind.” it was with impatience that he waited, fingers tapping upon the counter’s wooden surface.