francesias-blog

[francesias-blog]

apolloniacolonna‌:

Apollonia turned slowly to look her child in the eye, again, tilting her head.  Her lungs filled with air, inflating with a sweet inhalation as pride glittered in her eyes at the sound of her daughter’s words.  Still, her face showed little of her feelings, only the smallest hint of a smile lilting at the edge of her lips.  Arching a brow, Apollonia inclined her head.

“It is still graver than that,” she replied, softly.  “They test us both, seeking the cracks in the facade not only of our nation, our empire, but of all Christendom.”  Even with her hope of a crusade against the Ottomans crippled, Apollonia was convinced there were other alternatives and, more to the point, an Aragonese Pope, though more focused on the Emirate, may perhaps be more readily inclined to aid other nations who had felt the same calamities as his own.  Apollonia meant to find out, one way or another, but this could not be undertaken lightly.  No, she must tread lightly for all the come out right.

Still, this was no place to discuss her more violent plans and, instead, she decided it was time to broach another subject with her daughter.  One that may wound, but still was necessary.  “I mean to meet with the Sultan,” she said.  “It is clear that he has chosen to disregard the alliance he once forged with your lord husband, and I do not mean for you to worry overmuch.  I do not undertake such a meeting lightly.”  

She smiled slightly.  She would discuss the possible marriage of their various unwed children, but she did not truly intend for anything to go forward.  It was merely a way of opening the door, then she would see what lay ahead.  Knowing the Sultan would make the future that much clearer.  Still, she wondered if the mere fact of such negotiations would offend Francesia.  She hoped not, naturally, but Apollonia had never formed her policies around protecting anyone’s feelings, her own included.

Apollonia smiled.  She expected nothing less of her daughter.  “I always knew you would prove a great queen.  I am glad the prospect also brings pleasure.”  Of course, when Apollonia had given her own child to the King of Croatia, her expectations for his future had been very much otherwise, but none of that could be helped.  Now, it was merely a matter of seizing fast the future and molding to their mutual pleasure.  

“There is another matter,” she began, arching her brows.  “Most…unfortunate rumors have come to Aachen about your husband.  You must crush them, Francesia,” she said, running her fingers through her child’s golden locks.  Apollonia, herself, could hardly blame Nikolai for having different preferences than were approved by the Church, but she did blame him for his lack of subtlety.  Apollonia’s own dalliances with women had been discreet and a word of them had never spread beyond her bedchamber, little less to foreign lands.  No, this risked the disapproval of the Pope, which further risked all that they worked towards in rebuilding Croatia and the Empire.  “Crush them beneath your heel, as though they were a serpent in your bed.  Only you can do this.  You must bear him a child, Francesia, and soon.”

Her mother’s willingness to entertain the Sultan surprised her more than it ought to, but perhaps it was her own wounded pride which saw her stubborn in their regard. Francesia did not welcome the opportunity to speak with them since she would rather cast the Ottoman Empire and its betrayal from her mind. It was her first true test as a ruler, and while she admired her husband’s intellect, she appreciated the fierce nature of her mother - akin to a protective lioness. Only it was not just her cubs she fought ferociously over, but the land which was in her keeping. The Croatian Queen knew that she would never be as great as her mother, nor as intelligent or revered, but she was still determined to make her own mark on the world. 

Her mother’s praise made her want to beam as though she were a desperate child seeking recognition. Francesia settled for a grateful smile and remained as composed as ever. Her content was rapidly disturbed by her mother’s mention of her husband. Apollonia was bold enough to repeat the rumours of her husband’s interests, which often plagued her. It was not matters of the heart which kept her awake at night, but instead the judgement of other monarchs and Godly men. If the wrong people heard of Nikola’s interests, it was too dreadful to consider. 

“I’m surprised you give any weight to such rumours, mother,” Francesia commented, trying to keep her tone from turning icy. It certainly was not her mother’s fault, nor was it her own, or even Nikola’s. It was hard to keep anything secret, and still, she turned a blind eye to any extra-marital activities that her husband liked to enjoy.

It was rare that Franecesia tried to entice her husband into her bed. She liked her own space and could rarely be bothered with the performance of pretending she wanted him there. He was more a friend than a lover, that much was certain in their three years of marriage. She had a duty to provide an heir, but she reasoned that she was still young and there was plenty of time for more frequent nighttime visits. 

Francesia felt just as disloyal to their marriage, for on their wedding night she had thought of Stefan and her heart had felt ablaze with such a memory. She had entertained a lover before her marriage so that she might use those memories to sustain her in life, for she certainly did not seek affection in marriage. Such an arrangement was designed for power and prestige, and that’s what she intended to use it for. “Do you truly believe that a child would dispell such lies?” 

[francesias-blog]

oftsarevnas‌:

       Tatia had felt the blow to the Queen of England as if it had been her own, perhaps it had been the shock of not expecting such event. Poison was not a weapon she had not heard of, however she had never been close to an attack of the sort before, her youth spent in shelter by her family came to haunt her. She had spent the following days in the company of her son, those she trusted and to the regret of her husband, seeking his company and presence more often than before. Another thing she did not miss was her daily trip to the cathedral, spending time into her prayers of returning to her homeland soon. The Russian woman made an effort to attend to her prayers early in the day, if only to avoid the others royals of which she now suspected, also believing that to be the plan of whoever was behind it. Crossing herself, finishing for the day, she stood to make a swift exit with twin guards tailing close to her. Her lifting only in time to meet the other if only a few steps away and unable to avoid the interaction. “I had not expected to find anyone else here this early, pardon for being in your way, I’ve seem to be not fully awake just yet.” 

Much of Florence was still covered in darkness when Francesia rose for the day, unsettled and weary after a poor nights sleep. She had a terrible dream and felt the need to be cleansed. The rosary was clutched betwixt her harsh grip, as she knelt at the altar and spoke the Latin words. Once finished, she sat to the side on a stone bench and pondered her next actions. It was hard to say how long she was in the Cathedral, but when she rose from her seat and turned the corner, she realised she was not at all alone. Francesia vaguely recognised the woman, but she did hold more interest in knowing the Tsarina than the Crown Princess of Russia. Still, politeness was always appropriate. “The hour is still early, you cannot be helped for such things,” she responded kindly, her hands clasped formally over her skirts. “Are you quite well, your Imperial Highness?” 

[francesias-blog]

apolloniacolonna‌:

Apollonia’s smile was fleeting, half-lit by the flickering candlelight.  She clasped her daughter’s hand, holding her gaze.  Her child’s eyes were much like her own mother’s, a sweet hazel, almost the aquamarine of Apollonia’s, almost the sable of her Apollonia’s uncle.  She watched them, lit by flame, seeming to dance and change like the fire that scintillated upon them.  Dropping her gaze, Apollonia felt a raw warmth at her daughter’s words, half sandpaper, half satin that set her heart into a squall.  She smiled, distantly, licked her lips and glanced away.  “You, as well, Francesia.”  Her eyes flicked back to her daughter, half a breath; she curved her finger against the other woman’s cheek, and dropped her hand, again.

Apollonia inhaled, arching a brow.  “An insult,” she swore.  “Felt by the Empire, entire.”  Her thoughts had rattled over the subject, time and again.  It was an offense she’d meant to repay in blood - a holy crusade, declared by the Pope, himself, against the invading forces.  Yet, the Pope, heruncle, had passed and this new one, of Trastámara persuasion, seemed more like to have his eye fixed upon the Emirate rather than the Ottoman threat.  With this knowledge, Apollonia’s own plans had shriveled all to dust in her hand and she was forced to consider other alternatives.  But, no matter, Apollonia would see to it that the grave loss dealt her child was, one way or another, assuaged.  It was perhaps true that Apollonia failed in the usual aspects of motherhood - namely, tenderness - but in maternal ferocity she was, as yet, unmatched: still more dangerous a thing was it to trespass upon Apollonia’s children than upon the Empress, herself.

“Your lord husband need be in no doubt: we shall not suffer these attacks to continue.”  Her first thought was to wed her son, the future Emperor, to an Ottoman bride.  After all, even a Sultan should, no doubt, enjoy someday calling a member of his own family Emperor; certainly Apollonia would be glad to call a member of hers Sultan.  But, still, the options were many and Apollonia had not yet selected one.  Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced at her daughter with curiosity.  “Tell me,” she began.  “Is there anything you would have me do in this case?  Allow me, first, to assure you, you need have no fear for your safety.  I shall suffer no harm to befall you.”

The slight against Croatia had affected her mother too, something which Francesia would not readily forget. Francesia knew Apollonia well enough to know that she would feel as equally enraged and betrayed by the Ottoman Empire, as she did. Where they had hoped for eternal glory and rulership over many European lands, the takeover of the Balkans had been as deep a cut as any. Her reserved and calculated nature had been temporarily fractured, and she’d broken face in the privacy of her chambers, screamed into the hearth and shouted at her ladies maids to depart hastily, or feel her wrath. 

“Neither shall I,” she muttered fiercely, her eyes wild like the ocean on a stormy night, full of disruption and danger. “It seems that they forget who they’re dealing with, as though the Queen of Croatia is not the daughter of the finest Emperess the world has ever seen.” They would see what it meant to temp her own fury. They took what belonged to her husband, embarrassed him and her new kingdom. She would see them suffer for it, and she would break bread with them if only to threaten them with poison. 

“Your support and care are as always, most precious to me.” Francesia watched those dancing, those without care or concern, had she ever been one of those girls? Ever since she was a young girl, Francesia had been bred on ambition and righteousness. “I wish I had better tidings for you. But despite the current situation, I do enjoy my charge in Croatia.” 

[francesias-blog]

adalsindaofanjou‌:

@francesias

Adalsinda’s days had been filled with social events - encountering many of the women who had flocked to Florence in light of the celebrations, it was her job, it seemed, to encourage good relations for Russia among the ladies’ circles. It made sense, of course - as a French woman by birth, she could curry good favor with many, a quality she had been judged for in Russia now an asset in Florence.

All of this was why the invitation to meet the Croatian queen over breakfast was not an immense shock, but it was welcomed none the less. Francesia’s reputation came before her, of course - that of a mild-mannered queen of pure intent. She was curious, of course, to see if such was true, and to see what motives underlay the invitation.

Adalsinda was patient as she was escorted through the palazzo where the Croatian retinue was saying, ushered to the Queen’s chambers - dark hair bound up and dressed in a gown of soft blue. Following the coronation ceremonies, it seemed the city had taken a slightly milder tone, and she had dressed strategically to match it. Her blue eyes were sharp, however, as the doors were opened and she greeted the woman with tenderness, as if they were old friends. “Your Majesty - it is a delight to see you in person at last.” She spoke in French, a tongue she understood that they shared. “I thank you very much for this kind invitation. I am happy to meet you on behalf of Russia, to develop our bonds of friendship.”

To the disappointment and frustration of her loyal ladies maids, Francesia had risen with the sun. Demands painted her lips from the moment she slipped from the fine sheets which had held her for the night, with Nikola nowhere to be found. It was of little concern to her since she favoured her own company and despised sharing a bed. A deep orange robe had been thrown over her shoulders, as she made her way over to the group of tired-looking ladies, who had clearly been hoping that their mistress would stay asleep for much longer than she had. 

Francesia was demanding, and when she had informed her ladies the night before that she would be hosting a royal visitor, she could detect a slight grimace to their young features. Still, they padded about the outer-chambers, laying the table and sending the Queen’s orders down to the kitchens with strict instruction. Only the best was suitable for the Queen and her friends.  Her principal lady in waiting helped her to dress for the day. She had adopted the Florentine fashion, enjoying the shape which the gamurra gave her. The pale lilac was paired with expensive jewels, although she made a point of not going too ostentatious with her dress - it was not that kind of a meal.

When Adalsinda’s arrival was announced, Francesia turned delicately and pressed a welcoming smile to her features. There was nothing ingenuine about her reaction, for she certainly wanted to widen her circle of friends. "Your Imperial Majesty, I was most pleased to hear that you had accepted my humble invitation for a shared breakfast,” she addressed softly and moved towards the prepared table, which had been laid with fine silver. The food had yet to be brought up, but that was simply because Francesia wished for it to be served hot. “The ladies have prepared the table out on the balcony for us, if it suits you? The sun’s heat is not so fierce today and my rooms have a magnificent view.” 

[francesias-blog]

maricofviana‌:

the  prince  was  of  a  mind  to  doubt  that  queen  francesia’s  question,  spoken  with  a  girlish  lilt,  had  been  an  innocent  probe  into  his  pastimes,  and  rather  an  implicit  behest  that  he  should  indulge  her  in  a  game  of  chess.  fortunately  —-  the  game  was  a  universal  one, something  mario  was  indeed  quite  skilled  at  and  had  taught  his  niece  and  nephews  to  play  years  ago.   ❛   not  often.   ❜   his  admission  is  curt,  but  not  uncouth,  the  harsh  slavic  brogue  of  the  croatian  language  made  silken  by  his  aragonese  twang.   he  lowered  onto  the  seat  across  from  her,  dark  irises  sweeping  over  the  readied  board.  ❛   for  lack  of  a  decent  opponent,  i  suppose.  i  pray  your  majesty  will  pardon  my  rustiness.   ❜ 

Her disappointment in the prince’s admission was hidden behind her goblet, as she took a short sip to starve off her thirst. “There is no need to apologise for my easy win,” she responded in jest, her tone full of comradery. Francesia was not in the least bit jovial, but it was far more polite than admitting that she was sorely disappointed by the standard which she had been presented with. She supposed that not everyone had the determination and discipline to study the game for hours as a child so that by the time they reached adulthood, the game came all too natural. “If it is not chess which you play for leisure, what do you enjoy?” 

[francesias-blog]

kingedwardplantagenet‌:

  “Indeed your grace. I’m rather found of the game.” He occupied the seat gamely, the bloom of bride embellishing his features; its influence as great a force across his countenance, as the amiability he found in the Queen’s presence. How Edward longed for a vessel for his competitive spirit and dauntless ambition - one to be found many leagues from a site of bloodshed. Chess sufficed to prove ones intellect, as greatly as it awarded the the blessing of victory. “Thank you for the honor of your company; and in the wake of my marvelous capture of your king, I shall never lose any respect for her majesty.” His visage now wore a marriage of mirth and braggadocio; no match was fit for a king, lest it involved a kingdom’s worth of prideful remarks, and biting comments for ones opponent. “I invite you to make the first move, as I might be a brute, but I shall abide for the mantra women first. Perhaps while we engage in combat, I may beg your ear for its favor. Rarely, have I had the honor of your opinion.” 

When speaking with foreign royalty, Francesia had always proceeded with caution. Tact was required to keep the fragile peace and forge bonds, while war-hungry men did anything in their power to tilt the balance. Chess was a battlefield, more refined than the real thing, but it was dangerous all the same. She loved the challenge, the thrill of it, and it seemed that King Edward wished to meet her offer. “Very well, your majesty.” Fingers pushed forward the onyx chess piece, a pawn caught in her grip as she made her first move. "You may have my ear, so long as I may also have yours. It is a rare opportunity which we have here, King Edward.” Before her arrival in Florence, she had talked with the noble lords about the opportunities which may present themselves if she were to meet with royal parties from other kingdoms. What powerful allies might they gain? Everything in her life was a powerplay, from the moment she was born and used as a tool in her mother’s great dynasty. 

[francesias-blog]

beatricegrey‌:

“I do, your Majesty. But not well.” Beatrice saw no reason to lie about her ability, but she was in no position to turn down such an offer from a Queen, taking the seat opposite the woman with a friendly smile, picking up her own goblet when it was offered. “Though I suppose that’s good luck for you, my Lady. I will put up as fair a fight as I can, but I think it might be an easy victory.”

“Would you prefer to play something else instead?” Francesia offered with a furrowed brow. An easy victory did not sound at all appealing, and she’d much rather have a conversation with the lady than suffer a poor game. “I would offer to take a turn around the gardens, but I’m afraid the heat is a little much for me today.” Her finger traced the rim of her goblet, grateful for the cool liquid. The Queen had been tempted to call over her ladies maids so that they could fan her body, to waft away the uncomfortable feeling which came from too many layers of fine cloth. 

[francesias-blog]

elizabvtas‌:

FLORENCE HAD AN AIR EXTREMLY DIFFERENT FROM CROATIA. of course, it was a louder place & its people were totally different from the croatians, but elizabeta found that very interesting. the difference between their cultures, their fashion, their arts. the crown princess had passed most of her days studying about the florentinian lifestyle & language, to understand better where she was. the two countries were close in distance & elizabeta did not felt bothered by the weather. it was almost the same after all. ❝  as much as i am enjoying my time here, i still miss croatia. it is amusing how we create bonds with pieces of land & call them home.  ❞  

In the privacy of the palazzo, some of her people had found it liberating to complain of their length of stay, as though it would pass the time much quicker. Francesia learned when she was a young girl that things did not often last and to grow attached to them was foolish. Unlike others her age, she did not cling to a favourite doll or seek the comfort of something familiar. She had always known that her life would take away from Austria, no matter how happy it made her. The residence which she took up in Croatia was beautiful but so very different from what she had known for all of her young years. That was why she found Elizabeta’s words to be tiresome, rather than endearing - a sentiment left unspoken. “We shall be back on the boat before too long, sweetling,” Francesia told her sister, as she pulled apart the bread and meats on her plate. The tastes and flavours of Florence had agreed with her, and she found a healthy appetite for their offerings. “What stories shall you take back to our people? Will you start styling yourself in the Florentine fashions?”

[francesias-blog]

joanofasturias‌:

social  gatherings  were  slowly  making  a  return  through  the  city  though  numbers  were  sparse  and  bodies  were  slow  to  trust  those  that  were  not  their  own  ─  while  joan  was  similarly  disposed  to  such  misgivings,  she  would  not  allow  herself  to  be  frightened  into  seclusion  by  a  little  bit  of  poison,  determined  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation  whilst  remaining  adequately  concerned  for  the  misfortunes  of  the  english  court.  ❝  your  majesty.  ❞  at  the  invitation,  her  body  had  dipped  into  an  instinctive  curtsy  out  of  respect,  features  smoothing  over  to  display  calm  curiosity  as  the  bright  hues  of  her  gaze  studied  the  board  before  them.  ❝  i  do,  though  i  cannot  speak  for  my  expertise  in  the  game.  it  has  been  a  while  since  i’ve  had  the  opportunity  to  play.  ❞  she  had  learned  as  a  silent  spectator,  as  delicate  as  a  porcelain  figurine  upon  the  precarious  perch  of  her  father’s  knee  as  he  battled  the  chessboard  with  her  brothers  ─  afterwards,  she  had  made  them  explain  each  move  to  her,  each  decision  made  for  better  understanding.  ❝  thank  you,  your  majesty.  i  hope  i  will  not  disappoint.  ❞  settling  the  width  of  her  skirts  over  the  vacant  chair,  the  princess  of  asturias  offered  the  other  woman  a  graceful  nod  of  the  head,  an  amiable  smile  playing  at  her  lips.  ❝  i  am  pleased  that  life  has  returned  to  the  city  …  i  understand  the  caution,  of  course,  but  we  must  not  allow  criminals  such  as  that  ill - made  merchant  throw  us  into  darkness.  ❞

It was true that in the wake of Queen Isabel’s poisoning, many had considered themselves to be vulnerable and at risk of a similar fate. In her private quarters, she had contemplated her limited options as she sat mulling over the events, with a half-goblet of wine clasped in one hand. She could hide away in fear, or carry on as though nothing had changed. Her thoughts had naturally drifted to her mother and what decision the Empress would have made. An all too obvious answer had rung in her mind. Francesia chose to push through any reservations, appearing to be the gentle light of a good and gracious ruler. “A wise choice. I doubt that our gracious hosts would like us to cower away, considering the great lengths they’ve gone to in making the city welcome to us all.” Her hands drifted over her army of pieces, contemplating her first move. Nothing in her life was ever done without purpose, her actions were precise and masterful, having learned from the best. “Recent events aside, have you been enjoying your visit to Florence?” 

[francesias-blog]

groficasplitska‌:

With an arched eyebrow, and exceedingly bored expression seeping from her every pore, Irena fixed her stare upon the newest contestant, riding against some boring-tedious Lord she did not care to remember - or recognise under his helmet. Her own good husband was lingering in the King’s presence, as per bloody usual, and with an exasperated sigh ( and expression which seemed all but carved into her appearance ), Irena turned her attention to her Queen, a light smile tugging her lips, at Francesia’s retort. She followed suit with an applause, darkly amused by the fact that she did not applaud for vigour, or virtue, or valour, or whatever it is that Lords assumed they had; but rather for foolishness, stupidity, and pointlessness of such barbaric games.

At her Queen’s question, she pursed her lips, trying to recall how long has the joust been going on. “To be quite honest with you, I have no idea. I stopped counting after the third Lord was kicked out of his saddle. I think Franjo rode fifth, our King seventh, and my jolly good husband was eleventh. But, they could have been at a later time. I think I dozed off for a few rounds.” Irena retorted, speaking latter with a light snicker in her voice. While she certainly didn’t doze off, she wasn’t as attentive as some other Ladies, gasping and cheering for their loved ones. Of course, she would have given her right arm to say that almost every cheer and gasp was feigned. At least she did not pretend, and to Hell with expectations. If she was bored beyond her wits, she will put very little effort to hide it. But, there was some interest in the game while she watched Nikola and Jakov ride - and only a little when Franjo did, as she was quite happy seeing him thrown off his horse. “I would not be surprised if they jousted forever. You know how Lords are when it comes to glory and the pursuit of it. They can never get enough of it. If you want to leave, I’ll cover for you.”

Men battered and bruised left the tiltyard with defeated expressions worn into their strained features. Limps and winces were in her constant peripheral even as she spoke with Irena. Her own gaggle of ladies maids were fawning over the brave men, hoping that their gifted favours would issue a little well-needed luck to the next ambitious rider. Francesia did not have the heart to ruin their excitement, even if she had little patience for it. “And leave you alone with them? I think not!” Francesia quipped, and cast the group of ladies behind them an assuring look. They were too wrapped up in the entertainment to notice that their Queen had made a joke at their expense. Poor dears. 

"Besides, we shall need the time to come up with suitable compliments for our husbands. After all, a valiant show such as this deserves high praise. Don’t you agree?” There was mirth in her eyes and she was certainly grateful for Irena’s company so that she could dispense with the masquerade, if only for a moment. She thought of her husband, and the peculiar marriage she had entered. There was no hatred, far from it, but she did not love him. Sometimes, she lay beside him at night and thought of Stefan, a past love. It had been almost a decade since girlish fantasies filled her mind of forbidden love, for she had grown more level-headed and dutiful since then. Religion and royalty were the pillars of any kingdom, and she would stand strong. Nikola could have his fun, so long as it did not impact her rule. “Hopefully it won’t last for too much longer. My hunger grows.”  

Perpetually Exasperated || Irena & Francesia

[francesias-blog]

° ✧ GAME OF THRONES PROMPTS. PART I.

possible triggers, read/reblog with caution.

SEASON ONE :

❛ Nine years! Why have I not seen you? ❜ ❛ Where the hell have you been? ❜ ❛ Would you please shut up! ❜ ❛ Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects. ❜ ❛ Surely, the dead can wait. ❜ ❛ Did I offend you? Sorry. ❜ ❛ What the hell do you know about being a bastard? ❜ ❛ I heard you the first time. ❜ ❛ It’s no mercy, letting a child linger in such pain. ❜ ❛ I just want to stand on top of the Wall and pissoff the edge of the world! ❜ ❛ Give me a good, clean death any day. ❜ ❛ What good will my sympathies do them? ❜ ❛ Your absence has already been noted. ❜ ❛ One word and I hit you again. ❜ ❛ I’ve half a mind to leave them all behind and keep moving. ❜ ❛ You’re too hard on yourself. You always have been. ❜ ❛ I swear, if I weren’t your king/queen, you’d have hit me already. ❜ ❛ Trust me, that’s not the worst thing. ❜ ❛ Tell me we’re not speaking of this. ❜ ❛ Oh, it’s unspeakable to you? ❜ ❛ Look at me and tell me what you see. ❜ ❛ You broke my nose, bastard! ❜ ❛ I wonder how long it’d take you to hit! ❜ ❛ They hate me because I'm better than they are! ❜ ❛ Glad to see you’re protecting the Throne. ❜ ❛ It must be strange for you, coming into this room. ❜ ❛ But you just stood there and watched. ❜ ❛ Is that what you tell yourself at night? ❜ ❛ How could you let this happen?! ❜ ❛ I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit. ❜ ❛ Do you remember anything about what happened? ❜ ❛ Why are you here? ❜ ❛ I have a gift for you. ❜ ❛ Will I really be able to ride? ❜ ❛ Is this some kind of trick? ❜ ❛ Piss on that! I wanna hit somebody! ❜ ❛ You do move quietly. ❜ ❛ You’re speaking of murdering a child. ❜ ❛ You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this. ❜ ❛ I felt something for you once, you know. ❜ ❛ Does that make you feel better, or worse? ❜ ❛ You wish to confess your crimes? ❜ ❛ My crimes and sins are beyond counting. ❜ ❛ I’m good at convincing others to do violence for me. ❜ ❛ What do you think you’re doing?! ❜ ❛ I have that right, same as you. ❜

SEASON TWO :

❛ We looked for you on the battlefield, but you were nowhere to be found! ❜ ❛ I…I’ve been here, ruling the kingdoms! ❜ ❛ I’m glad you’re not dead. ❜ ❛ Knowledge is power. ❜ ❛ Excuse the interruption. Carry on. ❜ ❛ It’s been a… remarkable journey! ❜ ❛ You brought this on yourself. ❜ ❛ I’ve done nothing. ❜ ❛ Do you understand we’re losing the war?! ❜ ❛ Disappeared? What, in a puff of smoke?! ❜ ❛ Must be hard for you- to be the disappointing child. ❜ ❛ Oh, I trust them with my life- just not with yours. ❜ ❛ Three victories don’t make you a conqueror. ❜ ❛ I won’t need a servant to do my beheading for me! ❜ ❛ I heard you suffered a terrible head wound.  ❜ ❛ I am very good at keepingsecrets for my good friends. ❜ ❛ Who threatened you? ❜ ❛ I understand the way this game is played. ❜ ❛ I’ll have you thrown into the sea! ❜ ❛ I am a pirate- I’m an excellent pirate! ❜ ❛ That’s a promise that always comes true. ❜ ❛ You don’t know how persuasive I am. ❜ ❛ You’re the mosthonest smuggler I ever met. ❜ ❛ You have no need to see this. ❜ ❛ I believe we know how to pour our own wine. ❜ ❛ Maybe I’ll hire this cook of yours. ❜ ❛ I don’t listen to filth. ❜ ❛ I appreciate your loyalty. ❜ ❛ I’ll not have my honour questioned by an imp! ❜ ❛ I just wouldn’t feel safe with you lurking about. ❜ ❛ I command you to arrest this cutthroat! ❜ ❛ Do you hear me?! ❜ ❛ I think there’s more to ruling than that. ❜ ❛ There’s no bigger joke in the world than that. ❜ ❛ What about all the dreams you had that didn't come true? ❜ ❛ Your time with the wolves has made you weak. ❜ ❛ You gave me away if you remember. ❜ ❛ You gave me away like I was some dog you didn’t want anymore. ❜ ❛ You won’t get away with this. ❜ ❛ I’ve decided I don’t like riddles. ❜ ❛ You want to know what side my family fights on? ❜ ❛ You gonna tell me where you’re from? ❜ ❛ You can’t talk to me like that! ❜ ❛ That’s twice I’ve warned you. ❜ ❛ I don’t want you in my tent oneminute more than necessary. ❜ ❛ It would be my pleasure. ❜

SEASON THREE :

❛ You’re wearing the wrong color. ❜ ❛ When I’m free, will I be free to go? ❜ ❛ I'll be free to kill you. ❜ ❛ From now on, you’d better kneel every time I fart. ❜ ❛ You’re telling me you saw… one of them.  ❜ ❛ Did I come to the right place? ❜ ❛ We’ll need to find you a new cloak. ❜ ❛ I need an army. ❜ ❛ It’s too beautiful of a day, to argue. ❜ ❛ I am wondering why you sent for me. ❜ ❛ Have you grown boredprotecting me? ❜ ❛ I’m sure you’ve filled your pockets. ❜ ❛ I don’t loan it out to friends as a favor. ❜ ❛ I don’t even know what I’m paying you now! ❜ ❛ Am I enjoying it? ❜ ❛ I heard how happy you were. ❜ ❛ I gave you real power and authority. ❜ ❛ You brought a whore into my bed. ❜ ❛ Why does everyone assume I want something? ❜ ❛ A little bloody gratitude would be a start. ❜ ❛ So tell me what you want. ❜ ❛ I want what is mine by right. ❜ ❛ The next whore I catch in your bed, I’ll hang. ❜ ❛ I’m not your enemy. ❜ ❛ I’ve never seen anything like it. ❜ ❛ Even the bravest men fear death. ❜ ❛ Tell the good master there is no need. ❜ ❛ Here, I’m done with you. ❜ ❛ How many do you have to sell? ❜ ❛ We don’t get to choose who we love. ❜ ❛ I only want to know what that means. ❜ ❛ Are you frightened, child? ❜ ❛ Tell us the truth. No harm will come to you. ❜ ❛ I have traitor’s blood. ❜ ❛ Please don’t make me say anymore. ❜ ❛ Please, don’t stop the wedding. ❜ ❛ That doesn’t mean they’re not worth helping. ❜ ❛ I have no doubtyou will prove equal to this challenge. ❜ ❛ This is the safest place in the city. ❜ ❛ Any advice for me, on my new position? ❜ ❛ How long will you be gone? ❜ ❛ You don’t have the strength. It would kill you. ❜ ❛ There is another way, a better way. ❜ ❛ The blood of my enemies, not the blood of innocents. ❜ ❛ What’re you doing, leading a mob of peasants? ❜ ❛ I should have killed you! ❜

[francesias-blog]

[francesias-blog]

"Do you play?” she asked, her head tilted up towards the other person. The duality of her question was in the silent request that the other should take up her offer. The Queen was seated at a table which was set up with a game of chess ready to be used. Francesia would not admit that she had been sat waiting for a worthy opponent, but she hoped not to be disappointed. There was little time for games in her role as Queen since her days were often consumed by duty to her King and people, so she relished any opportunity which arose for a challenge. "Please, sit.” She motioned for them to take the vacant seat opposite her, her fingers poised over her goblet. 

[francesias-blog]

apolloniacolonna‌:

@francesias

Francesia, her mother thought as she sipped at her drink, had always been a skilled dancer.  Watching her move through each of the steps with such grace, the feeling was reinforced.  The ghost of a smile flitted about Apollonia’s mouth and she sipped at her wine delicately, pride suffusing her chest.  Oh, yes, Apollonia was desperately proud of both her daughters - and, in truth, she missed Francesia desperately.  Of course, it was necessary for everyone that her eldest, once married, go to her own land, set up her own court, behave as a Queen ought.  Her mother had expected to feel her absence, of course, but what she felt was a lack.  The lack of presence, the lack of counsel, the lack of Francesia.  Apollonia showed no signs of it, and made no mention, but she felt it, keenly.

Florence, she found, now, was full of unforeseen opportunities.  Yet, there was another lack, as well.  If Francesia were to sit securely upon her throne, she was require heirs…and heirs, in her case, would help with a still more delicate matter, as well: the vicious rumors regarding Francesia’s husband.

As the dance came to an end, Apollonia stretched out her hand towards her daughter.  “Come,” she said, voice like satin.  “Come sit beside me and tell me of all that has been since last we sat together and spoke.”  She smiled, almost sadly if it were not for the ever-present steel in her eyes.  “Already, my dear, you have grown into a formidable queen.  You have made your parents proud.”

Dancing was an art form, one capable of changing the fate of warring countries if executed properly. It was hard to say how many conflicts had been solved by a waltz, and how many had been caused by a much too passionate la volta. Over the years she had perfected her movements, meticulous in her corrections, which were pointed out by a stern-faced dance teacher. It was not her favourite activity, but as Queen, she knew it was expected of her to be great - and she was bred to be a great Queen. The expansion of her mother’s great dynasty was reliant upon equally successful matches for the brood of children she produced. 

Her gaze had met Apollonia’s partway through the tune which had been playing, but it’s end allowed her to dismiss her poorly skilled partner, and seek out far more riveting company. Her hand slipped into her mother’s, grateful for the fleeting show of affection. Francesia took a seat, her plum gown and ermine toned jewels glistening beneath the candlelight - every inch a Queen. “Mother, it is so good to see you,” she returned, voice steady and eyes steely. Despite the gentleness which she portrayed, she was every bit as cold and calculating as her mother. Some lessons had been unspoken in childhood, but she still learned from them. 

“It is my sacred duty.” Her mother’s praise was well received, yet she did not need to commit to a performance of just how grateful she was that Apollina had commended her efforts. Croatia was different than what she was used to, but like so many daughters of great houses before her, she had entered the unknown realm with her head held high. The complexity of her marriage was unforeseen. Fortunately, she left her heart behind and so she avoided too many emotional entanglements. “I do not believe that Nikola is too thrilled about the present company. The Sultanate has deeply offended our kingdom.”

[francesias-blog]

groficasplitska‌:

The jousting was entertaining. In a sense that every sport in which men knock each other from a horse with a stick is deemed an exceedingly amusing pastime. Well, if she were honest, she would admit she felt rather darkly amused witnessing Franjo being knocked off his horse ( serves him bloody right! ) and left in the dust - where he belonged, she might add. Irena was only mildly enjoying seeing her King being thrown out of the seat; she never liked seeing her country lose, even if the man governing it was an, if you’d excuse her, idiot. But, it might not come as a surprise that she viewed Nikola as an idiot - what came as a surprise is that there even might be the total of one man out in the world that she does not regard as a fool; and that man is her five year old brother ( and perhaps she does not see him as one is simply due to his age. There is still time for him to turn into an imbecile. They all do. ).

Watching the joust with her Queen to her left, Irena allowed herself an irritated huff when her husband, Jakov, rode next and, oh what a surprise!, got himself off his horse before one could even blink. She shook her head, her eyes fixing upon the brunet man rising from the dust, then turned her attention to her Queen before she could roll eyes at Jakov in a very unladylike manner. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, and utmost fondness for you and our good King, but I must say our husbands are, to be quite frank with you, idiots.” 

@francesias

The men who sat astride horses, lances it hand, held little care for their worrying wives who were forced to bear witness to the bloody sport. The Queen was poised beside her closest companion, her sleeve left barren after she had plucked the embroidered favour from it’s resting place, and neatly tied it on the end of her husband's lance. Little good it did him. She had seen Nikola thrown from his seat, as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Francesia did not wish for other countries to laugh at her husband, no more than she cared to see him harmed. He may have driven her to absolute despair, but she was not in the market for a second husband. 

She tucked a smile behind her neatly bowed lips, amused by Irena’s outlandish remarks. Francesia, however, could not disagree with the expressed sentiments. “You are too funny, my friend,” she applauded, with her palm resting against Irena’s forearm.  “How many more rounds are we to endure before they conclude their pursuit of glory?” Francesia whispered so that none other than Irena could hear her. It was important to her that others perceive her as the respectful wife, obedient and loyal. But behind closed doors, Francesia was determined that her husband should hear her voice and heed her warnings. 

Perpetually Exasperated || Irena & Francesia

[francesias-blog]

musingmemes

reblog and bold your muses preference.

summer / winter / spring / fall

rain / snow / sun

lace / silk / cotton / velvet

water / liquor / beer / wine

breakfast / lunch / dinner

meat / sweets / fruits and vegetables

staying up late / going to bed early

early rising / sleeping in

extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism

love / money / power

having company / being alone / a healthy balance

dogs / cats

black / white / gold

city / nature

religious / non religious

stars / ocean

lots of friends / handful of friends / loner

meat eater / vegetarian / vegan

letters / conversations

belief in supernatural / no belief in supernatural

bright colors / pastel colors / neutral colors

[francesias-blog]