Some secrets are better left at that

Only have the both of them take that risk. And it would be a very hard risk to take, and she would have to make that choice. “I would…and I’ll have to live with it,” she said as she kept thinking about it. “Thank you for the advice, Your Grace-you’ve given me something to think about.”

           Raven black hair danced around her shoulders as the German gave a smirk to Jacques’s words, accompanying it with a shake of her head. “Oh no, not just because you are French,” she said with a laugh. “I am my fathers eldest daughter, and he has already had one run off an marry on him. He does not need his jewel being ravished by a man. Normally, I am not permitted to be alone with someone of the opposite sex. Either my guard or lady will be present as to ensure proper conduct,” Isobel explained. “I do think it is fairly common, in the pursuit to preserve our maidenhood. I am quite worthless if I am stained,” her tone was a little darker with that sentence, the mirth in it almost palatable. It was not the expectation of her to remain pure that annoyed Isobel, just the idea that she would be unable to do so unless constantly scrutinized. So was the life of a powerful princess, however. 

    Holding out a hand to quell Jacques’s concerns, Isobel gave him a soft smile, trying to reassure him. “I will speak French when I become French, you need not worry. My only quibble right now is I wish to at least maintain some control over who sees my chest, as the first wedding gown proposed left very little the imagination,” Isobel finished with a slight laugh. Fortunately, they had been talked down from that. A raised eyebrow greeted Jacques’s statement. “They have finally come to an agreement? I must say, I am actually rather impressed in the speed of such a thing. What does this decision mean?”

There was a story he only knew a very limited of information about. It seemed wrong to criticise someone for doing what most wished to do. He had once upon a time, now he was just willing to do whatever it took to fit the rules of what a prince must do. It was exhausting, but at least it meant no one was looking for his secrets. “Right or wrong, I suppose your sister’s actions have scared everyone” sad really, but he had seen it around. “It is the way things are done” words he had heard thousands of times, but the annoyance was there. Some traditions were just ridiculous really, but then he also knew that whilst his sisters were meant to act in the same way, they ignored it all and did what they wanted. He couldn’t blame them, but if something happened to them… well his normal relaxed temper might break. “Indeed, how long do you give them before they come in for some reason or another?” he asked as he sat down, possibly not the best thing to joke about, but better to see the humour then get angry at a serving boy, or a guard just concerned the King would be angry.

“You are very welcome here,” she reinforced. “I deliver alms to some of our neediest with collaboration from the church, and I have heard from our people – they are excited by your presence.” Isobel was a beloved figure, after all. They were glad to see her marry so well. It contrasted nicely with the ongoing gossip of their younger sister’s marriage to the Bavarian Duke. 

With a smile, Bea hummed a noise of agreement. “As do I.” She understood what was expected of her – played the role well, even – but Bea had never particularly enjoyed the court. “Oh, no – I doubt that very much. You should have a higher opinion of yourself, Your Grace.”

“Well if there had been time, would have actually liked to have gone to the church personally” if only because it would have made a better impression. Perhaps that could have been seen as a little selfish, but marrying the oldest daughter of a nation was no small thing. Least he could do was try to make a decent impression.

“What if you can’t choose between the both of them?” she asked all of a sudden as she kept thinking about it. Though he was right-it does depend on how she wanted to live-life the way that is safe or take the risk of losing the luxurious life she always had over the years. “And you selflessly want both?”

          Setting the needlepoint down on the small table next to her, Isobel sat back down into her chair, resetting the folds of her skirts. With a lithe motion, she indicated Jacques should join her at the other chair which sat facing the crackling fire. “Sit, you do not disturb,” she said with genuine kindness. Although she may be apprehensive about the impending marriage, she was sure not to take that out on the poor Prince, who was probably just as nervous as she was. 

    Turning to the guard who still stood at the door, she beckoned for him to shut it. A look crossed his face, and Isobel had to withhold the snort. “I am sure his Grace Jacques is not going to take advantage of me, sir. And regardless, the man is to be my husband. You need not worry about having a chaperone. Send for a boy to get us some mulled wine, however,” the German beauty said, her tone authoritative, dismissing any argument easily. The guard shut the door and Isobel turned back to her betrothed, laughing at his statement as the doors shut. “I have started to pretend I do not understand French at times. It seems to get the more dim-witted helpers out of my hair,” Isobel confided in a conspiratorial whisper. “Anyway, what news do you speak of? Have they finally picked a place? Or is there still controversy over my gown?” The questions rolled off her tongue almost sardonically. It seemed as if everyone but them had input.

“Ah, merci” he’d only switched to French due to the guard being there. It was petty, but he was honestly just tired of them always being there. They were there to make sure they were safe, and he did know that. But at the same time he was also tired of never getting any privacy. The fact that he was French did seem to annoy some of them, possibly because of the French reputation. It was small, but it was something.

“Perhaps on your next visit,” she suggested, her shoulders rising and falling with a gentle shrug. Bea thought that it was a bit defeatist to have resolved to not enjoy the grounds, or to claim that there was no time – after all, he was already there. It was out of her nature to make any comment on it. “It was silly to be startled so easily,” Beatrix replied, her gaze dipping as a sheepish expression came over her face. “Did you come out for air?” She managed after a moment – once deciding firmly that it would be rude to end the conversation then and there – “are you looking for someone? My sister?”

@crownprincejacques

          The thread made barely a sound as Isobel pulled it through the cloth, the crackle of the fire drowning it out for the most part. Her attention was only devoted partly to the needlework she did, her gaze occasionally drifting out the window and away from her work. Her face had its normal impassive look, concealing all and any thoughts she may have. 

    A knock at the door broke what little attention she had. Her guard called into her. “The Dauphin, your Grace,” he called. She had told them Jacques was permitted to enter, however her guards were sometimes sticklers about still announcing a visitor. “Please let him in,” she called out. The door opened a moment later, allowing Jacques in as Isobel rose and gave a quick curtsey. 

For the most part, the trip to Germany had been successful. A few lose ends still remained, but everything took time, and he knew that. On the positive, some of the more bigger issues were finally resolved. In truth he would have returned to France there and then, but he knew that Isobel would want to spend more time here, and the last thing he would ever do is force her to leave.

Will’s eyes flash to the crown prince, a bit taken back. Here he thought he was doing a good job at not having anyone know about such things. Then again, she was his brother, so perhaps she had told him. He just wondered if she left his name out of those stories to save him from getting in trouble. For surely he was breaking rules. “I’m afraid I don’t know which you mean.” It was better to play it safe. 

 “In that regard, I would agree with the prince.” There were many a times when he was still home with his family where he needed to be alone. Course, he didn’t or couldn’t use the horse and merely walked. “I am sure it is nice to go out a clear your head, and be alone. Least you go mad.”

It was probably unfair to have scared the man like that. What his sister did was her choice, long as she didn’t get hurt. “No? I suppose that I must have miss-heard her” of course he knew that he hadn’t, but the last thing he needed was her guard being too paranoid. “Though I suppose that if I did not, I would rather she wasn’t at risk of getting hurt however she chooses to occupy her time” unavoidable perhaps, but he could still try.

In Beatrix’ experience, the French prince had always been kind. Bea did not particularly worry for her sister, as she knew Issy could handle herself quite well, but it was comforting to know she’d not been promised to someone cruel. She did wish that she spoke French better – or that her German tongue did not butcher the French accent so terribly – so that she could communicate easily in his own language, as it seemed to her to be the respectful thing to do. As it was, her embarrassment over her skill deficit outweighed her need to be respectful. “No need to apologize, Your Grace,” she replied with a smile. “It is a beautiful day, and you are welcome to use the property as you like.”

“Indeed they are, though I am curious and stumped on what to report. I am merely task with following your sister, Princess Henriette. There is nothing of note to warrant report.” Unless he were to include the times he helped her sneak out the castle. Regardless, it appeared he was in the clear. 

“Then I welcome you back. I hope all went well?” He wondered what court was even like, for he had never participated, merely stood there on guard. Yet, every royal he seemed to overhear or come across, were glad to be away from it. 

“If you are following my sister then I highly doubt that there is nothing to report” he knew his sister a little better then that. "Though I can see why you would not want to” if tales of a royal doing anything but their duty got out... well he wasn’t going to put her in that situation.

Blackmail. The one thing she was scared of-that someone would found out about it and would destroy her for good. “It’s not mine neither-but sometimes I fear that one day someone would know about it and I’ll be ruined for good.” she said quietly as she thought about it.

“That is not nice, Jacques,” she said, trying to look mad at him and failing as a smile tugged at her lips. “I hope you are nicer to your betrothed than you are to your siblings.”

The day was uncharacteristically warm – perhaps not warm as compared to the sunnier seasons of the year, but certainly when posited against the frigid, hazy-gray days that had claimed days as of late. With the soft glow of the sun about, Beatrix had been encouraged to part from her rooms and take air, albeit with a fur coiled round her shoulders. She meandered about the property, following after two loping hounds of black and blonde, and worked to clear her mind. As one dog rolled over the other in a playful romp, she stopped to observe, and a private peal of laughter escaped her at the sight. When another laugh accompanied the noise, her shoulders stiffened with the surprise of company – a sharp intake of air following the gesture – and her head quirked over shoulder to spy the second party.  “Good day to you,” she greeted calmly, having forced a regaining of her wits. A reserved – but not unkind – smile curved round her lips, and she dipped her head in greeting. “You caught me by surprise.” 

With time before the wedding beginning to get shorter, it did mean that France was starting to become a little unbearable. It was one of the reasons he was in Germany, it was a marriage of politics after all, there was still a lot of politics to sort out. He just wasn’t complaining about an excuse to leave France for a bit. He did understand, he was the dauphin, and he was older than most were when they first married. Still, it would be nice to be able to walk down the corridor without someone stopping him to ask something related to who was sitting where. He was already sick of the entire thing, and it wasn’t even the day yet. He had no issues with the actual marriage itself, perhaps that made them different to some of the others out there. 

Slowly, Will glanced up from his ruined letter at the sudden voice. “Your Highness,” he greeted, shooting up from his seat upon seeing who it was. The guard cursed his luck from being caught. It wasn’t it wasn’t he was doing anything wrong, it was just not something he wished to explain. Some might think that writing a letter home required such secrecy, and in truth they were right. Yet he felt it was necessary. Not even his brothers in arms knew that he was the son of a baker or that he had five siblings, they all just assumed he was an orphan, and he allowed it.  Maybe he felt if no one knew, he was in so way protecting them? From what? He did not know. 

“I was writing up a report,” he lied, crumpling up the letter. “I lost track of time, but it don’t matter. I’ll have to rewrite it in the mornin’, for I have ruined this one. If I may ask, what has Your Highness up this late?” 

Jacques waved his arm, it was far too late in the day to have to handle titles. He knew why they were important, and under normal circumstances would have used them. But today he was just tired, and the last thing he really needed was someone being jumpy because of who he was. He would never truly understand that. Though he also knew that he would never actually be able to. He was born to become the most powerful man in France, and he had never had any need to be afraid of his father. Fear was one thing, being afraid of someone for power, that he would never need to know.

Writing home was always difficult. There was so much he wanted to say, yet he had nothing, which left he letters filled with mundane things such as what he had for dinner, and how much life differed from when he was younger. Course the only notable difference from become a royal guard he was ability to travel; to protect the royal family, of course, but it was still something he wouldn’t have been able to do before. 

The quill froze over the page as Will stared off to the distance in thought. He would very much like to see his family again. Blinking, Will glanced down, inwardly groaning at the ink blots that covered the page. He’d have to rewrite his letter now.  

Jacques wasn’t sure how late it was, he had been out most of the day and had lost track of the time. He hadn’t meant to be gone for so long, but he seemed to be so rarely in France these days. He hated it, but that was duty, there was nothing that he could do about it either. Just smile, and nod, and go along with it all.

Laughter bubbled from her lips as she looked up at them, closing the book she had been reading. “If that is your idea of a compliment, I would suggest you to stop and think twice before saying anything the next time.”

The brisk winter chill cloaked Elisabeth’s shoulders, convincing her that she should have worn another layer. Yet she knew the cold air would be best for her. It had only taken a foolish moment for her to forget the penalties of drinking vast amounts of wine and whilst she had done rather well to conceal its initial effect from her fellow gues. ts, she was not fortunate enough to avoid the consequences the following morning. Now her head pounded and her chest tightened with every step she took. The winter chill was welcomed, because it was one of the few things she could currently feel. Her head turned at the sound of someone coming to join her. “It seems that we are of the same mind,” she said with a smile and a gentle nod of her head which was a lot more difficult to perform given the circumstances. “How did you find the celebrations at my home? I do hope they were not too dreary!”