blushofflowers

[blushofflowers]

— ( 002 )

          nalini has been engaged twice; both times she escaped.

          her first engagement was entered into when nalini was still in her natal home, far away and long ago. she was thirteen, and her parents were eager to see her married off. nalini never saw the man that was to be her husband, and knew next to nothing of him, beyond the fact that he was old. old enough to be her father. she knew she would be forgotten, that this would bring her more sorrow than the life she already led. it was a turning point, a breaking point, that finally drove her to run.

          oceans and years later, she had turned ninteen, and her mother maritza had determined to find her daughter a good man to call husband. though nalini felt uneasy at this idea, she trusted her mother, and put all her hesitation down to nerves. but the anxiety never left, and her nerves increased to nauseating heights. nalini was not ignorant of what happened between man and wife— visiting courtesans had told her what happened in a bed— but the idea of being with a man pushed her near to tears. a month after the engagement was made, nalini begged her mother and father to end it. joaõ didn’t much like the man, thinking he would be a bad match for his daughter, so he broke it on nalini’s behalf. the breakup was nasty, and a rejected man was more dangerous than an enraged bull. six months later, nalini left with her brother for piedmont, partly to escape court.

          seasons and cities spun by as nalini traveled, and two years into her stay at hampton court, nalini met vittoria, who she dearly wishes she could call her wife. the irony is not lost on her: the one time she would accept an engagement is when it would be forbidden in the eyes of god and the law.

[blushofflowers]

mistressophclia‌:

Ophelia took a sweet off the tray, her eyes lifting to look at the others with a sheepish smile, her shoulders hunching as if to state her claim to the spot, leave an indication that she planned to remain here, show comfort. “Oh, I know.” She sighed, turning it in her hand but she found she wasn’t able to take her eyes away from the woman in front of her. Even in the dimly lit kitchen, the moon bleaching color from the reminisces of the room she was beautiful. Not beautiful in the way she would describe a person but a painting. She was interesting.

“I do. Well, it’s complicated.” Ophelia shook her head, eyes closing as if this would somehow unwind the strings of thought that tangled in her mind. “Where I come from is very different. Not better, I don’t think. It’s just what I know. I have a hard time letting things go.” 

“Nalini.” She mused. “That’s very pretty. I’ve never heard that name before. I’m Ophelia.”

          it gave nalini a small thrill to see that familiar gleam in the young woman’s eyes. it was a look that she had thrived off of for years in portugal, in florence and in france. it stroked her ego, her vanity, despite the fact that vittoria was so diligently trying to smother any willful pride nalini displayed. nalini was an opposite, straightening her spine and lengthening her neck in response to the woman’s shrinking into her seat. nalini immediately felt akin to a preening peacock, and silently admonished herself as she forced her back to slouch.

          but she leaned over conspiratorially, as if holding a secret underneath her tongue. “i know exactly how you feel, i should think━” everything about nalini shouted foreign, from the roll and curl of her words to the richness of her skin━ “but it is not so hard after a little while. miss your home if you must, but do not pine for it, else you should grow ill of life and miss it as it passes you by.”

[blushofflowers]

juandemendoza‌:

He had no desire to overstay his welcome, but he was endlessly curious about the woman before him, genuinely intrigued as he watched her when she stilled, burying her face in the wildflowers. She was charming to him, and he smiled - friendly and well-meaning, helping to pick up a few flowers that seemed to have fallen from her hold as she danced, offering them to her. 

“I will not bother you any further, but I feel I must ask - is there a task that brings you out at this early hour? I only wondered if I might be of any help - but if I am interrupting, you may send me on my way.”

          her moment of bashfulness was fleeting, her blush cooling. a small sparkle returned to warm her gaze. he had startled her, that was all, and so she told herself. he was no ill-intended voyeur━ and if he was, then that made her an ignoble thief, plucking up blooms for herself. they were wildflowers, all, and no one would miss them...but they were still in the king’s lands.

         but her blush returned, more gentle this time, accompanied by a giddiness that made her feel child-like. she shrugged guilelessly, though the motion was still fluid as water, and answered with a smile, “they are gifts for━ someone. a close friend. today is her birthday, and i wanted to surprise her.” she paused, narrowing her eyes playfully at the stranger. “but if milord has any notion of tact, you would, perhaps, keep quiet about seeing me? a surprise is a secret, after all.”

[blushofflowers]

cfboleyn‌:

    Although she was someone who flourished in every day court, Anne adored when courtiers came from far and wide to mix among their English halls. The wine always tasted sweeter to impress the Florentines, the amount of gold decoration doubles to outshine the French, English accents polished to ignore the Scots and everything else was generally louder and more boisterous to welcome and intrigue those who came from far and wide. It was a courtiers dream.

Thankfully summer had chosen to bless the English isles quite on time that year and the early morning sun was already pleasing to the skin, as pale as it may be, beckoning Anne to rise early and make the most of the day ahead of her. A jaunt in the gardens before breakfast was quite a therapeutic idea, to enjoy the peace before the chaos of Hampton Court roused for the day, but she soon found that she was not quite as alone as anticipated and not without entertainment either. Hands joined to clap quietly, alerting the other woman to her presence but not so loud that it might frighten her, a smile of an impressed nature dancing upon rosy lips to curve towards the rounded apples of her cheeks. “ That was beautiful, I admit I have never seen a dance quite like it. ”

          nalini had almost instinctively bowed at the applause, the sound recalling earlier days aboard ships, at ports, in private court chambers where her mother would encourage nalini to display what she called an effervescent grace. dance, however, had been solely reserved for courtly celebrations, and nalini had only rarely been passed over for ladies of more noble birth. she had still been taught, and had excelled, though she found portuguese dances to be odd contradictions: lively and spirited to the extreme sometimes, even verging on the scandalous; then there were movements that were so austere and dull that the could easily move nalini to tears. 

          she did love to dance, though, and she did not mind much to see that it was mistress boleyn who watched her. she had never been formally introduced to the countess of northumberland, but had admired her all the same. she was eye-catching, and though nalini’s eyes were forever fastened on her vittoria, anne boleyn was still an entrancing woman. so she curtsied all the same, a small blush kissing her round cheeks. “i had hoped to bring to life a memory of childhood, my lady— it was more or less something simply for my own indulgence.”

[blushofflowers]

elizabethsblount‌:

   She had wished to pass by the scene without making her existence for known; the knowledge another had observed a moment of sweet isolation, would only deter Nalini from further free expression. Her lips parted at once to deliver wisdom, but all intelligence died upon her tongue, unable to breath life into the air. Elizabeth’s eyes, a formidable blue, were alighted in the benevolent rays of the sun - they sought to convey the apology, and the wonderment, that their owner failed to deliver. 

Elizabeth had stared, and so, felt ashamed to be marked a coward, or a creeping pervert - yet, if she plead her case, would stand the risk of being deemed a simpering ignoramus, entranced by the unknown. “I - apologize, for my disturbance; had I known you were alone here, I would have picked another path. Though I am glad to witness your beauty, I dread ruining your sanctity; you move with such grace.” 

          had nalini known she would have been observed, or if someone had commanded her to dance, she would have obviously continued on her way as quickly as possible. she did not perform, not in dance, though in portugal’s court, in portugal’s dances, she was renowned for her grace. those dances she could follow in her sleep, or even blindfolded. but this had been entirely improvised, a small homage to the country of her birth, though she no longer called it home.

          she froze, momentum making her stumble, before finding solid ground beneath her feet. she knew the lady meant no intrusion, no real crude gawking, though many a courtier would mindlessly do so. this woman— elizabeth blount, she recognized her now, lady clinton— she only knew of her, had never been introduced properly. she still flushed to hear the praise, though, and dipped into a small curtsy, an odd gesture of reverence that she had never quite mastered. “it was no real sanctity, madame—” though it was, but nalini had found that the english had an odd sense of diminishing irreverence— “i was bringing to life an old memory.”

[blushofflowers]

Priyanka Chopra, Bajirao Mastani, 2015.

[blushofflowers]

ladyxgeorgiana‌:

Georgiana beamed to see her friend, planning to sneak up and surprise her. For all that she was taller than every other woman she knew, she was a dancer at heart and could walk with a light step. But before she could reveal herself, she saw Nalini starting to dance. 

Mesmerised, she watched, trying to imagine the next steps, but it was unlike any dance she knew. 

But she could guess the beat that the dance should be done to, even if the tune would be different, so she started to hum, swaying. “Every time we meet, you are always such a wonderful mystery.”

          nalini jumped to hear the tune, at odds with the one playing in her head, but when she saw where the little song had originated, she gasped, dance forgotten. the flowers in her arms fell to the ground as she propelled herself foreward in her haste.

         perhas she was too eager; perhaps she was too familiar, but she had not seen her little friend in so long. she’d had letters, of course; nalini had carefully preserved each page of their correspondence in a small writing desk tucked into the corner of her room (mostly at vittoria’s insistence). but face-to-face, heart-to-heart was always more precious than ink and paper relating the comings and goings of life.

          nalini soon had georgiana crushed to her in an embrace, tucking her head underneath her own chin. she briefly considered trying to restrain herself, but threw that option away swiftly and quickly squeezed georgiana to her. “i have missed you, florzinha!”

[blushofflowers]

juandemendoza‌:

Juan had not intended to stare. It was merely a matter of coincidence, that he had awakened early for his prayers, and had decided when he finished to breathe some of the fresh air of the gardens. His mind had been moving at rapid speeds as the wedding preparations developed around him, and it helped to find a moment to bring himself some peace, to simply take in creation as it was intended to be seen, in the warm light of morning.

He stopped short when he spotted the dancer as he turned down one of the garden’s winding paths at his slow, meandering pace. He had no particular destination in mind, and so the interruption was not unwelcome. The longer he looked, though, he felt somewhat like a voyeur, witnessing something not intended for his eyes. It was difficult to look away, though, and he stood still - intrigued as the woman moved, her body all but flowing. He made up his mind to turn back the way he came and leave the woman to her dance, but one of the stones in the paved path caught his foot in just the wrong way - causing him to stumble with a sound of alarm that surely caught the lady’s attention. Juan looked to her and offered a look of apology. “I did not mean to disturb you, my lady. Please do not let my foolish curiosities interrupt your morning.”

          nalini had begun the day quietly, peacefully, full of thumbs stained green and a sore heart. it had been simple movements at first, and limited ones too; there was only so much she could do with her arms full of wildflowers.

          but when she heard the scrape of a bootheel over stone, she wished she could disappear underneath her wild bounty. her blush was hot, her eyes wide as she tried her best to hide her face behind the blossoms she carried. she, too, had made something of an undignified squeak upon hearing a man’s rough voice carry through the still morning air.

          she hoped his words would be an end to the chance meeting entirely, but courtesy demanded she repy. she strangled the shyness seizing up her tongue, cleared her throat, and said distinctly, “i do not mind it much, sir— pray, forget the incident altogether, there is no harm done.”

[blushofflowers]

mistressophclia‌:

The woman’s comment sent Ophelias smile creeping wider. The staff would chase most anyone out, wouldn’t they? She could imagine the overworked cooks and tired servants wanting their space to themselves, not wanting to have to share the only place they were allowed to speak even the smallest hint of freedom. Some of them would still likely chase even Ophelia out. Her title of mistress didn’t win her a lot of friendships. Half the staff let it go while the other half resented her for ideas of sin or jealousy. She didn’t fear them though. She spent enough time around staff to feel a sense of normalcy with their glares. She learned to live with them.

“Perhaps. I suppose it depended on who was working.” Her brows knitted as if she pondered the thought a moment. “Anyway the breads are the finest things I’ve laid my hands on. unfortunately, they try to bake them fresh each morning. “She plucked gently at the dress she wore. “ These don’t come anywhere close.” She giggled, her hand reaching up to allow herself to take another bite.

          nalini’s footsepts were light, noiseless, as she approached the girl. she knew she should be heading back, and soon— vittoria was many things, but patient was not one of her stronger points. nevertheless, she offered the plate of honeycakes towards her strange and sweet-toothed companion. “these are especially delicious once warmed, and taken with a nightcap besides.”

          nalini knelt, tucking her hair over one shoulder, though a few stray curls managed to fall away from the rest. those, she hooked behind her ears, the gesture slow and deliberate. the woman sounded the slightest bit heartsick, and nalini wondered why. “it sounds like you miss something very much— i am called nalini,” she said, interrupting herself.

[blushofflowers]

          a strange sort of homesickness had set in, one out of place amongst the festivities. one that called not for portugal, but for punjab. despite all her small, stolen european traits, despite the distance in time and years between nalini and the house of her birth, she still remembered much— so very much. some parts she craved to see again. she remembered being very small, watching a temple dancer in all her finery dance at a festival she had long forgotten the name and time of. if she asked sneha, she would most likely remember.

          but for now, that lively temple dancer still danced in her memory. she was graceful, to be sure, but there was no chance that nalini could emulate her grace... 

          but there was no one around on her way back from the gardens just after sunrise, her arms full of wildflowers, her bounty nearly overwhelming. she slowed, then paused. she tapped her foot against the courtyard’s floor, just as the dancer had, and moved her head, just so, just as in her memory. soft, slow movements of dance brought to life nalini’s memory of that childhood afternoon, and the world around faded away as nalini closed her eyes and moved without a care in the world.

[blushofflowers]

mistressophclia‌:

@blushofflowers

The kitchens brought a sense of comfort, a tonic for the nerves whenever she got them. It was a place of familiarity, of comfort. The smell of burning coals and bread flour. Sometimes she missed the simplicity of the village. Court could be so overwhelming, the noise and the whispers, the never-ending river of information. It was exciting too, but some nights she needed to ground herself, find a center. 

It was easily found over a warm pastry, the moon carrying in through the back door with the brisk wind. If she closed her eyes, she could hear her father snore in the back room, her mother turning in her bed. Remembering where she came from reminded her of all she had now, no matter how much whiplash it managed to give her. 

A sudden noise sent a chill down her spine, her eyes bursting open wide with a gasp. 

“Oh.” She sighed relieved to see the woman standing in front of her. “Suppose I’m not the only one with a late night sweet tooth.” Ophelia lifted her pastry with a shy smile. 

          half-hidden as she was through a grille, through pots and pans, she could still see the smallest of women through the gaps. nalini was silent, simply observing for a few minutes. she knew that, in all reality, she should leave, slip away quietly while she still had a chance at being unobserved. she wore no jewelry, nothing that clinked, nothing that could signal her presence. but the expression on the woman’s face was so serene— and such serenity over such a small thing, in such an odd place. nalini was entranced.

          the plate of spiced honey-cakes she held on one hand had other ideas. it had hovered too near one of the pans, clicking against it. nalini’s swift movement to pull the plate back towards her was in vain though, as she woman’s luminous eyes widening, then her panic receding at nalini. she stepped around her hideaway, coming fully into view. “if anyone else finds you in here, they’ll chase you out like a common rat,” nalini said softly, and not unkindly. “but i suppose i cannot judge— i suppose we are both thieves in love with the finer things in life.”

[blushofflowers]

1536 - 1538; the time jump

         — in the past two years, nalini ribeiro has visited her family in portugal once, mostly unaccompanied. while the visit was well-needed, nalini quickly returned back to her brother in england once her mother again started to ask her about marriage. nalini has determined never to marry, unless it was for love.          once she arrived back in england, nalini did have her love story, but in the most unexpected of ways. the two were so similar: their fathers and brothers were scholars, they were both in love with stories, beautiful things, and neither of them knew quite how much they would come to love each other. her name was vittoria; she was from rome, alongside her family, who had come to england.           vittoria was recently widowed, and nalini was not looking for romance, but neither of them knew how fast they would collide until one night, at a mayday celebration, they had their first kiss. and finally, something snapped into place in nalini. all the boys she had kissed before could never measure up to this. this finally felt right.           vittoria and nalini are close— closer than nalini could have thought two people could be. she was careful to keep it from everyone in her life (save for sneha, but nalini could never hide anything from her, and sneha is glad that nalini will bear no bastards nor marry a brute) but nalini was happy. the two of them remain on the outskirts of court, but have created their own worlds— literally. vittoria was the more quiet of the two, and introduced nalini to journaling. now, nalini writes her stories down, fingers perpetually smudged in black ink. the couple have spent hours on end, batting story ideas back and forth, crafting maps for the wilderness in their imaginations, and writing, always writing. vittoria says nalini has a gift.           nalini could not be happier— and the the announcement of the king’s marriage, she wishes him the same happiness she has found. she wishes she could call vittoria her wife, but the two are happy as they are.

[blushofflowers]

[blushofflowers]

mariadehabsburg‌:

Maria settled beside the foreign lady, neatly placing her hands in her lap, her backs resting against the cool stone of the wall. She was well versed in royalty, and people at court, and some royal buildings, but she always wanted to know more - more than it was written in the books. She nodded as she listened Nalini speak, her head delicately tilted to the side, attentively.

“Cardinal Wolsey, indeed?” The princess asked, her eyebrows arched in question. “Yes, may he rest in peace. Pray, tell, was it anything here before the cardinal’s palace, or what Hampton court originally built for him? I cannot help but to feel like this place is older.” She commented, throwing another glance around the place; down the corridor where the torch lights flickered.

          this— now this was something that made nalini pause. she cocked her head, bird-like, and pursed her mouth. “before?” she wondered, a trill to the word. “nay, not a thing, save for an empty field and the river thames,” she said.

          “but perhaps it is easy for a palace to feel old when it has such storied folk peopling its halls. kings, queens, holy men. painters and musicians, scholars and fools,” nalini continued. “stone does not break so easily, but a thousand thousand steps wear down a stairwell to its bones indeed.” nalini’s voice was soft, low and sibilant. a stray had toyed with her necklace as her eyes cast upward, slender neck craning. her new companion had opened her eyes, and she murmured, “i had never put time away into contemplating hampton court.”

[blushofflowers]

mariadehabsburg‌:

The discomfort in her newfound companion was evident, and it made the princess soften her smile even more. She knew that the other was nervous; and she could not really blame her. Being in an unfamiliar setting, and with a palette of people who all had vastly different characters, was not really a relaxing thing. Still, she said nothing as the woman fidgeted, not wanting do add to her nervousness.

As she spoke, however, Maria’s smile widened. “Oh, excellent! I am rather fond of history, and stories in general. Shall we take a stroll, or would you prefer we took a seat by the window? The latter might provide us with some semblance of privacy.” She offered.

          she shrugged, walked a few paces, then settled herself on a nearby sill, tucking her overly-complicated farthingale out of the way as she sat. it was much easier to weave a story when she sat— she could hold the warp of it in one hand and the weft in another, letting her words illuminate threads of silver- and gold-cloth, sky-blues and field-yellows colouring her landscape. she glanced over at her new companion, a spark in her dark eyes.

          “hampton court began not with its bricks housing royalty, but instead the clergy— cardinal wolsey originally was lord of this palace.” a brow arched expressively as she waited for her companion to join her. the fall of the cardinal led him to offer his new home to the late king,” she said with a slight trill to her voice. “may he rest in peace,” she added, briefly remembering the tradition at the last minute.

[blushofflowers]

cfmedici‌:

    “ Kindness? It was but an accident… ” Caterina wished she could be surprised or confused by the apparent relief in the other woman’s reaction to her, but not all of the nobility were aware that mistakes were a common practice, then the hand taking her own lured a smile and a gentle nod from the Florentine. “ I must admit that I was rather captivated by your tale; I did not understand but you appeared so passionate. ”

Even after only having been away from her home for a few months, words pronounced in a familiar tongue set Caterina’s heart alight with familiarity and her expression softening in a strange sense of comfort. There were masses of people at court but so very few spoke the language she knew as part of herself, those that could chose to opt for a more universal tongue, so she could not even begin to express how she appreciated it. “Fa freddo ma sto imparando molto. You speak my mother tongue very well, you have lived on the peninsula perhaps? ”

           nalini flushed, still embarrassed to have smacked someone by accident. the flush turned into a blush. nalini was pleased, though. “some stories do not need to be understood to be heard, my lady.”

           nalini laced her fingers behind her back, pleased to have guessed correctly. “my brother and i— we spent almost three years in florence and rome. there were a few months, too, in bologna, but it suited neither him nor i, so we ventured south, to urbino.” a thoughtful pause as nalini remembered the long days spend on dusty italian roads, insisting that she would ride on horseback. “i think i was more taken with italy than my brother— such a welcoming sun!”

[blushofflowers]

ladyxgeorgiana‌:

“Pleasure to meet you.” For a moment, curiosity battled with her desire to be polite. Curiosity won out. “Do your people always dress like that?” It wasn’t judgement in her voice, it was awe. There were a lot of things she’d dare to do, but not to walk about in such a state of undress. But she knew, vaguely, that different lands had different practices. 

Georgiana ducked her head with a little laugh. “Am I so obvious?” She’d been at court less for only a couple of weeks, still new to everything. Of course, she thought she was rather grown up, despite how protective her brothers could be of her. “I’ve joined my brothers. Finally.” 

          nalini narrowed her eyes playfully at the young girl, then displayed her cuffless wrists, tossed her unveiled hair over one shoulder. all for display, she thought to herself. her bare feet were still tucked under her skirts, so she unfolded her legs from beneath her, poking her toes out from the hems. she could hear her mother gasping in horror, scolding her for shedding her proper dress. “portugal’s fashions are much lighter, but no one would appreciate my current state, no.”

          “it is obvious, yes—” nalini stopped herself before she could say anything else that could be heard as rude. but she smiled all the same. it was small, soft, and she was careful to tuck the hard lump of emotion away, shove it down her throat. “brothers are a blessing. i have— i have two. both older than myself. are you the youngest of your siblings?”