Lifesblood

In many ways, Johanna only wished for Friedi’s happiness, but she found herself wrought with anxiety during her sister’s wedding day, hoping and praying that she would find a good match in Bayezide, and that he would give her the love that she deserved. The truth was, the Landgravine hardly knew anything about the man but from what she had observed, and indeed what Friedi herself was advocating for now, he seemed to be rising up to the role of being a good husband for her, and for that her mind and worries could settle ever so slightly. “Everyone had a wonderful time,” she assured her, glad that Friedi seemed to have fond memories of the day, for those were the memories of joy that would carry her during difficult times in years to come – at least that is what happened with Johanna, as she looked back with happiness on the blissful joy she felt when she married Matthias. 

“It will come back to you in bits and pieces over the years, and I hope that those returned memories will bring that amazing smile to your face,” she said, her hand fondly patting Friedi’s as she smiled. “I still catch myself on occasion smiling like a fool remembering the smallest things about my wedding like… oh I don’t know, a look that I remember Matthias giving me from across the dance floor or something as frivolous as that,” she said, a faint trace of the smile ghosting her lips as she recalled the memory again. Laughing at Friedi’s assurance that they would never be without each other, Johanna took her sister’s arm and sighed as if she was releasing all the burdens on her shoulders for a moment of happiness with her sister just reminiscing and gossiping like they would when they were younger. “I suppose I should tell your brother that we will be needing a summer home in the Ottoman Empire then,” she teased, though the thought of getting to see Friedi often made her feel a lot better. “I’m so glad to hear it… if he is as good as you say he is then I suppose he truly does deserve you… even if I had half a mind to object on the grounds of him taking you away from me– which we’ve clarified, is not going to happen.” 

Friedi knew that her upbringing had been far from idyllic. It was no easy feat to be the child of King Maximillian, but if there was any light in the darkness, it was her siblings. Her elder brothers were no less a part of her than her other half-siblings were (obviously, she could not claim the same of Claudia), and only slightly less than her twin. Johanna had fit into their family with ease, even before she had become an official part of it. “That is a relief,” The better the event went, the more the Ottoman’s would like her, and from what others had told her, it went very well indeed. 

“I hope so. I often wonder if I was even there at all,” She smiled fondly, a roll of her eyes indicating that she knew it was all a joke. Whether the day came back to her or not, she didn’t think she much cared. It was her future that mattered now. The past was of little consequence. “Though if that is the key to a marriage as stable as yours with Matthias, I cannot say I would mind.” Matthias and Johanna. Yekaterina and Dmitry. If not for them, she did not think she would have had any hope for her marriage whatsoever. “You must! Tell I'm that I ordered you to ask,” she let out a cackle of laughter. The idea that she would order anybody to do anything was preposterous, no matter what title went with her name. “I think I can be happy now, Johanna. I will miss you and my family - but now I have thought on it, I don’t think I will miss Germany, nor it me.” 

“we can, of course, we must.” friederike is the closest to a friend nagasani had in russia. the tsarevich’s sisters are kind and warm, yes, but they are his sisters nonetheless and the sense of loyalty to him doesn’t allow her to trust them wholeheartedly. irina is the one people assume she sees as a foe, though she is more indifferent to the woman than anyone would expect. that leaves friederike, a friend who would come and go. nagasani admires her freedom, envies, even. “we will have plenty of time to spend together, i am sure.”

nagasani is glad for her friend, she truly is. she hopes friederike is honest in her words, not just attempting to keep her husband’s respectful reputation alive, but unlike tsarevich yuri, sehzade bayezide has always seemed to not need anyone’s assist in giving himself clear of bad reputation. “i am very happy to hear that. perhaps i will meet him personally eventually.” she nods, a smile on her face with the mention of her daughter. “she will be turning two later this year, but she is very smart already. a runner, that one. i can see she will be hard to keep up with.”

Friedi nodded. This was why she had come to Switzerland, to reunite with those she cared for. Nagasani counted in that number. Surely, Switzerland would be a happier place for her than Russia. Friedi knew her true family were around, and surely, that would be of some comfort? “Of course. If you are not to busy, that is. There must be plenty here who would love to speak with you, Nagasani. Have you encountered your family yet?” 

In truth, motherhood worried Friedi. She had never had a mother herself. Agneta of Sweden had died to bring her daughters into the world. It was all a terrifying thought, and if Friedi could help it, she preferred not to think about it at all. “I am certain that you will. I have been told he has made an effort to speak to all of my friends.” It had been very touching to learn that he had sought out those she cared about, a small gesture that had endeared him to her endlessly. “You can tell him all my most embarrassing stories, and I will content myself with playing with your little one.” 

As Kiki’s head rested on her shoulder, the other twin placed a gentle kiss upon her crown before resting her forehead against her soft hair. They might not have been identical, but in height there was little difference. Eleonora recalled the endless discussions about her being just a small bit taller than her sister, and Kiki refusing to believe so. Blaming it on her shoes, or downright cheating by standing slightly on her toes. A bold claim, which may or may not have been true half of the times she was accused of it. The discussions seemed silly now and even if they still were a thing it was clear who had won the game of ‘tallest sister’. It was neither them or Dottie. It was a new German princess - “He shall never be sick of you, Kiki. Such thing is simply impossible. And if he does, he is not worthy of your time nor presence. Let it be known.” Friedi raised her head off Nell’s shoulder and broke the moment of peace and togetherness as she invited her to come along. A tug at her arm and an invitation to fall in step were eagerly accepted, for she had waited too long for another one of their adventures together. 

“Of course I enjoyed the wedding, meine liebe schwester. I understand that you only had eyes for your new husband, but I almost would have expected the radiance of the smiles of me and Dot to reach you at some point during the ceremony. - I was… am so proud of you, Kiki. Switzerland and it’s guests have never seen such a beautiful bride as yourself.” It had been an unique experience to watch her sister be wedded, speak her vows before countless people convert in faith. Not that she had expected the latter to be much of a discussion point. Friedi had never been the most faithful, and Ella doubt if she would ever be. Her sister did not need the Lord most of the time when she had so much faith in her own self. The stinging pain of being the one left behind had faded for the most part, as had the fear of losing her that had almost completely paralyzed her before. There was no way back now, only acceptance could be a solution to her aching heart. And to enjoy the time that they could now spend together.   

“I will not tell Lorrie that you took a small amount of credit for showing me this secluded hiding place. The two of you were always more of the rebellious kind. I could have expected as much.” Ella chuckled, as she found that her feet already turned at the right passageways to reach the garden. Her mind and senses used to the corridors of their Swiss home by now. - Normally, the eldest might have rejected such ‘foolishness’ by laughing it away. If they were at their home, in Germany, she had feared the talk of the court ever since she was old enough to notice it. But now, with so little time to spare together, she accepted her sister’s wild invitation with a twinkle in her eyes. “We should slip past the laundresses and grab a blanket or two. It’s not cold at night, but it’s nice to cover up slightly is it not?” The clothes she wore today were all but practical for such adventure but she did not care. 

The kiss pressed into her hair was so natural, that if Friedi hadn’t been separated from her sister for so long, she may not have even noticed it. But they had been. It had been so difficult to make time for her family of late, and she missed it dearly. She breathed in her twin’s scent, so familiar and comforting, and tried not to think about how, when they finally left this place, she may never inhale that lovely scent again. “I don’t know. I heard it’s quite common when the novelty of marriage wears off. Wives lose their husband’s affections, they take up with another. It is not so impossible.” It was highly likely Bayezide would take other wives down the line, and she still had not figured out how she felt about that - though at least, she figured she had time before she had to deal with such things. She laced their fingers, holding her twin’s hand tight in hers. She could not think about how much she had changed lately. Even her name was not hers anymore. She barely recognised the person she was becoming, but sharing that contact with Nell made her feel wholly and utterly like herself once more. 

“You will be surprised. I barely saw him on my wedding day. There was too many people to speak to. You will see, when it is your own. She had bought them time. Time for all of her sisters, and time for Lorrie, too. But it would not last long. Maximillian would place his demands on them once more, and she would not be there to protect Nell when that happened. Not anymore.  A flicker of worry passed through her. It was not that she did not have faith in her sister - but when it came to their father, they both knew Friedi was the only one comfortable enough to say no. “Proud,” she repeated, softly. She wished it didn’t still niggle at her, that her marriage was the only thing she had ever done to make everybody proud of her. “I still think Yekaterina was the prettiest bride I have seen.” 

 “You will have to be Lorrie’s rival in rebellion now, Ella. There are far too many eyes on me these days, and I have to try and be good, all of the time!” Friedi put on a show of horror, clutching her chest and rolling her eyes about dramatically. It was her natural instinct to push back against authority, but she could not make an enemy of the Sultan. It was on her now to win the Ottoman’s over, but nobody told her how exhausting it would be. Only a second of thought followed Nell’s suggestion, before Friedi diverted them, hurrying down the corridors of the castle in search of blankets. “We shall get some blankets, and something to eat a little later on. It will be a wonderful night.” 

A brow rose with the revelation. So the girl before her had found herself married by the Swiss courts; another girl of pure heart and eager mind sold to a man from another land. With each new woman, she found she thought herself lucky to be the wife of a man who had not came from such a different culture or background - ah, to tell young Gulbadan that she had found herself lucky to be sold by her father to a man she had not known. “I hope you see past my ignorance, but where are you from? Ah, were you the new bride presented to the Ottoman Empire?” Gulbadan asked with interest, her lips puckered. “Would you rather be called by this name or your birth name, ma chérie?” She asked out of respect, hands pressed together as she practised her basic French. 

“Germany,” she responded. She would not insult the woman by presuming that she had not heard of her father’s country. Hindustan may not have been their closest ally, but they were allies all the same, and she was certain that she would have, at the least, heard of them. Her cheeks coloured, for the way it was worded made her sound like a passive bystander in the matter. If she hadn’t have wanted it, she would not have gone, though she supposed Gulbadan was not to know that. “I was. We married last month.” The buzz surrounding her wedding was beginning to die down, though some still spoke of it with wonder in their eyes, for it had been an extravagant affair. “If you would not mind, I would rather be called neither. Most of the people in my life call me Friedi.” Perhaps it was a little too familiar, but that was the duchess all over. Not so much had changed that she was not still that kind of people. “And what would you prefer that I called you?” 

in one way or another, nagasani and friederike had become family. the duchess’ aunt was her in-law and, despite not having a proper name to call the german, she feel fond of her. after all, familial ties aren’t what dictates one’s affection, she’s too well aware of that. unfortunately, friedi wasn’t a constant in russian court, having duties in germany far too often for nagasani’s taste, which only made seeing her again a larger delight. 

“i would have liked to have attended,” she nods firmly, much honest in her words. her own wedding wasn’t joyful. she hopes friedi’s was different, and from what she’s heard, it was quite the celebration. the right fusion of ottoman and german customs, food, dance and drink. nagasani wishes she could’ve seen it. “very well then, friedi. how is he treating you, the sehzade? i hear he is a kind man.” and for her friend’s sake, she hopes that to be true. 

Seeing Nagasani at her wedding would have brought Friedi much joy, but she did not hold it against her. She shook her head, dark curls flying about her face. “At least you are here now. We can make up for lost time, yes?” Friedi wasn’t responsible for Nagasani’s unhappiness, but it did not stop her from feeling as though she was. Russia had welcomed the duchess with open arms when she had needed it the most, but they had not done the same for one they should call kin. If Friedi could make up for that in any way, she would. 

“He has been very kind to me. I have a lot of hope that this is the start of something wonderful.” She wondered if she was being insensitive, rubbing it in that things had worked out far differently for Friedi as they had for Nagasani. “But there are more important things to speak of, like that beautiful daughter of yours. How old is she now?”

The pressure of Friedi’s arms around her made Johanna smile as she hugged her back just as tightly. There were so many things that could go wrong in integrating with a new family after getting married, and Johanna had been lucky enough to know Matthias’ family quite well before they were even in talks of being betrothed. Genuinely loving his siblings like they were her own, she was grateful to have them as her family.  Friedi had never faltered in her love or support of her and Jo loved the woman just as much - she would do anything for her and hoped that her sister knew that. 

“Yes I do know that but it was your wedding day… I wanted you to relish in being a bride,” Jo said, tucking her arm into Friedi’s as they walked together towards the gardens. Johanna smiled as she recalled her own wedding day, “I felt the exact same way when I married Matthias,” she said nodding as she remembered how she had been shaking like a leaf in the moments before she walked down the aisle. “– the trick is to never let them see those nerves, and you did exactly that because you took everyone’s breath away,” she said with a gentle squeeze of Friedi’s hand. If anyone had any insight to Johanna’s pain other than Matthias, it was definitely Friedi, and Johanna could tell that she had worried her sister through the way that her laugh had faded so quickly, so she wordlessly nodded and carried on, actively trying to lighten the weight in her heart as she faced forward with a tight hold on her sister. “I do not know how I’m going to survive without you mein liebster Friedi… of course we will visit, but I hope that Bayezide knows what a treasure he has married– how is he? Does he treat you well?” 

Say what you wanted about King Maximillian - he obviously had a knack for matchmaking. Yekaterina and Dmitry, Matthias and Johanna, both were, in Friedi’s eyes, loving successful marriages, even if she knew that Matthias and Johanna’s had not been quite a fruitful as either would hope. In Friedi’s eyes, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Her own mother had been lost to childbirth, after what she had later found out to be a long struggle to conceive. Matthias may have disagreed with her, but she would rather see Johanna safe and sad then gone from her life. 

“I thought I would remember more about my own wedding,” she let out a self-deprecating chuckle, shaking her head at the notion of it. “But it all went by so fast that I cannot recall a thing. Everyone seems to have enjoyed themselves, and that is all I could have wanted.” The wedding had been a show of the best the newly-joined countries had to offer. It had served its purpose, and now it was time for Friedi to serve hers. “Don’t you worry about that.” She was happy to leap upon the change of subject, to pretend as though the two of them were nothing but the happiest of young women. “You will never be rid of me. In fact, when you are not visiting me, I shall make sure I am visiting you, and you will wonder when I will hurry up and leave.” She laughed, and then she nodded. “It is all still so new, but he has been perfect. I can only hope that it is a sign of what is to come.” 

≠ — Speaking the truth about how she felt would do her no good, the fear she felt, the lack of knowledge she possessed in regards of being a wife and of the world as a whole, left her feeling that the betrothal would be a mess, and that perhaps, should Louis not take a liking to her, lead to a sham of a marriage. “I trust the Tsars judgement, and that he has chosen a fine man to be my husband. It is daunting, but I look forward to it.” She stated, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. She was still coming to terms with the betrothal, and thought she would for some time. 

If Friedi had been nervous, she did not seem it. That gave Sofya an ounce of hope, that perhaps things would go well for herself and that she had a good future to look forward to. For it seemed that Friedi was excited for her new future with her husband. “I am sure you two will fall into one soon enough, married life may be different, but I have an inkling that it may as well suit you fine.” She mused, a mischievous glimmer in her gaze. 

It was a relief to know that they had spoken of their wishes for the union, it made more sense to Sophia that Friedi should be at least now, having been married and said “I do.” A small hum escaped from Sophia at her cousins question, and she shook her head. “No, I have not, but we do have a meeting planned. We were writing one another before I left Russia, and so a date has been set for us to finally meet… I am as nervous as I am excited.” 

She nodded her head. She could see that Sophia’s smile did not quite meet her eyes, and knew just how daunting it could be. Perhaps more so than most, given that the ink had barely dried on the German-Ottoman alliance that determined her fate before she had been thrown into marriage preparations. “The tsar is a good man. He would not do you wrong, Sophia.” She had far more confidence in him than she had in her own father at times. He had been good to her aunt, and Friedi was as fond of him as she was of his siblings. 

“Perhaps it will, though I have long had a habit of doing the opposite to what people expect,” her eyes glimmer. Her behaviour had been perfectly pristine of late, but there were still glimmers of the Friedi-of-old under the surface, waving and winking at those who knew her best, assuring them that her capability for mischief was not all that diminished. 

Tying together the more Western countries of the Ottoman alliance was a good idea. Friedi knew that logically, but when it came to people she cared about, she could not help but wonder if matters of the heart could factor in at all. “You shall have to let me know how it goes.” She offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I am certain there is nothing to be nervous for, though. How could he not adore you?” 

Scarcely a day went by in Germany where Friederike did not play music. It had been her brother, Ferdinand, who had taught her to play her first instrument - the harpsichord. From there, she had taken a vested interest, seeking tutors to teach her to play whatever she could get her hands on, writing songs of her own creation, writing poetry to accompany the melodies. That was all down to Lorrie. He had given her the gift of music, one of many little joys he had planted in her life. 

In Switzerland, however, it felt as though she had barely had a moment to breathe. She was not the same woman who had arrived here, only a few months ago, and she did not know what awaited her in the lands of her husband. But for now, it seemed, there was a chance for the dust to settle, for routine to fall on the duchess, and part of that routine would always include music. 

She sat at the harpsichord, fingers dancing over the keys. She had spent the last hour attempting to get the blasted thing in tune, and by now, she was finally satisfied. But just as she prepared to play, a shadow fell across the door. She raised her gaze, meeting Ferdinand’s eye, and a merry grin broke across her face. 

“Come on then, brother! Have you come to play a special song, just for me?” 

          ah, beauty. once told to be her greatest weapon, a power she holds over men. she was told she was beautiful, countless times, and she believed it, enjoyed the attention even. it was far cry from what she thought now. beauty is a terror most people were simply blind to. still, she grinned for the duchess. she did not need to plague her with dreary thoughts, not now. 

          what did she think of her now? has she heard the cruel rumors, believed them? there was no telling, no way of knowing what friederike believed to be true, what mental image she had conjured up of the tsarevna, now that they had not seen each other in so long. only time would tell.

          she hummed, ❝ nothing can truly compare to your home, can it? ❞ russia brought bittersweet memories, nonetheless, it was the only home she had ever known. realizing the same was true for the duchess. what a predicament she had found herself in, one that awaited her sister in the near future, and surely, her as well. ❝ oh, ❞ her smile faded, the tiniest bit, ❝ are you curious? or afraid? i am sure your husband can tell you all about it. then again, it is not the same as truly being there. ❞

Friedi thought for a moment. She may have been inclined to agree out of love for her siblings alone, but aside from them, it was unlikely she would miss much about Germany. Her life there had been far from happy, and now, perhaps, she could find that sort of happiness at last. She wondered if Yelena felt the same way about Russia. In her freedom, did she want to rediscover her homeland once more, or did she yearn for something different? 

“In some ways. But I hope very much that I will feel that way about the Ottoman Empire.” Certainly, a part of her felt like that about Russia. It had always been somewhat of a sanctuary for her. 

“I am a little nervous, perhaps, but not afraid.” Fear had never been at home with Friedi, who was brimming with dauntless confidence and reckless courage. She had never been the sought to cower, but to stand up to what made her courage waver, until they were afraid of her. “My husband has been wonderful in helping me get to grips with things, and at least I will face a slow transition.” 

Gulbadan watched the other, wide eyes taking her in as if to coax a reaction or in fact - words. And though her name hinted to the Ottoman Empire ( the closest of Kingdoms ) it was something different that was wrapped around her words. Her tongue seemed stiff at the introduction, as Gulbadan listened and watched. Perhaps it was the situation they were in or the world they had been thrown into, but Gulbadan felt almost pity for the girl. Or was it simply a thread of something she could find comradery in? Imagine Gulbadan, once a daughter of the Raja of Amber finding common ground with a girl from the West. She could barely comprehend it, as she rolled her shoulders back into the draped cloak she wore. 

“Fahriye Hatun,” Gulbadan repeated, slicing her name through her mouth before nodding with quiet certainty. “You must be quite at home here to be still for so long… Did you travel long to get here?” She asked, following her gaze with silent, stoic stance. 

There was something so regal about her, it was enough to make Friedi feel inferior. It was not like that was a particularly difficult task, after all. Inferiority was something Friederike had struggled with for all of her life. But this was heightened under the woman’s gaze, under the knowledge that Friedi was entirely unworthy of the new position in which she found herself in. 

The corner of her lips quirked upward into a smile, and she shook her head. “Once you have spent some time in Switzerland, you will understand that none of us are still here.” She had lost count of the amount of troubles and changes that had followed them here. Their lives had been upheaved dramatically, and she could only hope the same would not occur to the other. “But no. My homeland isn’t as far as some. We only had to pass through one other country to get here.” 

     🌹 margaret hummed in acknowledgement at her new found friend’s words. she had a vast repertoire of language she was fluent — most of them were because of the alliances england had, and some other for her own pleasure, or to please her parents. ❝ you are so lucky. and maybe i am too. you see, i was learning german before my trip, and maybe you can help me with some pronunciations ? ❞ the princess royal asked with a soft variant of her infamous puppy eyes, which she wore to get everything she wanted from her brothers and father. yet, it was too early to use the full version with friedi — margaret didn’t want to give the impression of being a spoiled princess, although she was one. ❝ ah, she needs to. the english ministers are not easy people to deal with.  ❞ margot could recall their irritated gazes everytime she, as a child, would sit with her mother through the state meetings. ❝ maybe they’ll agree with me when they start to miss your company. ❞ her smile was a bittersweet one — margot knew she would miss her brothers when the time of her marriage arrived. ❝ oh, then i need to meet her ! ❞

Undoubtedly, she had picked up German to converse with those from the Holy Roman Empire, rather than the daughter of their enemy, but nevertheless, Friedi was touched by her request all the same. “Of course. Perhaps we could switch this conversation to German, if you feel comfortable doing so?” She had yet to reach the level of familiarity with Arabic that it came easily to her tongue, and was forced to stop and think about her words before speaking them, and she did not want their chatter to be halted, or awkward in similar ways unless the princess was content to do so. “A woman worthy of respect, to be sure.” Friedi had not spared much thought for Queen Anne before. She was yet another foreign ruler who would see Germany fall, but she would not badmouth the woman in front of her own daughter. “Once the novelty of peace and quiet has worn off, for sure.” In truth, she felt like they already missed one another. Things would undoubtedly never quite be the same, and it made her feel strange to think about. “You should. I am certain you would get along.” 

    🌙 yuri wasn’t the best at the arabic languages — he knew a little of ottoman turkish, because they were allies, and a few words in persian, for the sake of his wife. but fahriye seemed a strong name, like friederike was — and she would need to be. yuri saw the struggles nagasani went through to adjust to the russian court — he hoped the sehzade would be a better husband than he was and is. ❝ it’s a beautiful name. did you chose it or others chose for you ? ❞

he smiled. ❝ why would i change ? ❞ yuri teased, yet he thought how much he had changed — not to his friends or family, but for those who only saw him as the bohemian tsarevich of the russian empire. but he didn’t do it because of them — it was because of his friends and to show to the courtiers that he could be a decent father. he hummed in acknowledgement of the german words, walking in the direction friederike was going. ❝ well, i’m a father now. nagasani gave me a little girl, karina yurievna rurik. she’s a blessing, i never thought i could love such a small human being. ❞ he also wanted to tell friedi about irinei, but the boy wasn’t legitimized yet. but yuri smiled — irinei was his pride, but karina was his joy. 

“It was a joint effort.” The choice had, in the end, been her husband and the sultan’s, but she was grateful that her own opinions had been heard in the matter. She had requested something that was not too far from Friedi, the name she had been affectionately christened as by those who knew her best. They had arrived at Fahriye, something that was different enough to feel new, but close enough that it was not too strange. 

“Why does anybody change?” She asked, idly. “It is comforting that some things remain the same, no matter where we find ourselves in life.” she hardly felt like herself anymore. Who was to say if that was for the better or not? She fidgeted a little when he spoke of his daughter. She liked Yuri plenty, but had developed a soft spot for Nagasani, too. However, of all of them, she was closest to Irina, and that put her in a bit of an awkward position. She remembered the first conversation she had with the blonde when arriving in Switzerland. ah! let me see… da; i had the tsarevich’s baby. She could hear Irina’s words clearly now, and debating bringing them up. Unfortunately, she could not help herself. “And Irinei?” 

he wanted to go back home. above everything, he wanted to take all of his siblings and their families and travel back to france where they could then apply their energy to more interesting tasks. anything was preferable to the atmosphere at swiss court and louis was beginning to grow desperate in his desire for something that wasn’t so political in nature, so taut and difficult to maneuver. on such days, he could even come to envy a simple peasant for the simplicity of a life he could never attain for himself. though of course such sentiments were never voiced lest they reach the wrong ears.

the french royal family had enough on their table with the line of succession and louis didn’t need to add to these issues with his personal problems or dislikes.

“i don’t expect you to.” meeting her eyes again, he saw the same resolve he’d oftentimes caught in isabeau’s demeanour. it didn’t surprise him to hear the two women had found friendship with each other, appearing strikingly similar to one another in louis’ eyes in that specific moment. and yet the sigh that tore itself out of his mouth hinted at something else entirely. “i commend you for your loyalty to your brother. family is a gift and should always be treated as such.”

it was a genuine sentiment: one that he was sometimes more desperate to see realized in his own life as well in spite of the difficulties that lingered in his own blood line. perhaps one day, home would mean more than just having to play peacemaker for the greater good.

“i can’t pretend to know about him as a man, aside from the details my brother, the king, shared with us when the announcement was made. similarly, i ask for your forgiveness if i offended. i only mean to protect my sister — surely, you are aware she runs a greater risk at being harmed or having her reputation sullied than your brother does?” it was a rhetorical question. despite his status as a bastard, ferdinand of lorraine was still a man: as such, isabeau would become his property upon their marriage. the thought sent a shiver down louis’ spine — isabeau was not one to simply be silenced. she had opinions, likes and dislikes and was keen on voicing them: sometimes even to the dismay of her brothers.

turning to face the german duchess once more with a spark of curiosity on his features, he found her to be more perceptive than he first realized while he pursed his lips thoughtfully. “while i can’t say i’m not fond of the idea, i’d like to know if your brother is aware of this… idea? the betrothal was already out of his hands and if he were to leave behind his family for a foreign country, i am afraid isabeau would bear the brunt of his unhappiness with the situation.”

Friedi didn’t necessarily think that all family was a gift. Her father, on the one hand, probably didn’t think the birth of twin daughters was anything of the sort. Her siblings, on the other hand, were utterly treasured by the duchess, the one bright spot in her existence in German. Ferdinand, perhaps, was the brightest of all. “I agree. We must treasure our family, for that is all that matters in the end.” 

“I am under no false illusions about my brother, Louis. I love him dearly, but I know how these things work.” She knew all too well how women often bore the brunt of things, and knew what Isabeau stood to lose through the marriage. She had once held hope that the two could make the best of it, but no longer. All she could do was try and make things as easy for them as possible. “I believe my father hopes that Isabeau can control Ferdinand somewhat, but I will not speak for him,” she confessed. 

“You would not dare. You love me too much to hurt me, Friedi.” She cooed. Regardless of their differences and the sisterly squabbles they had throughout the years ( and the relatively recent one that had them not speaking to each other for a few long weeks ), she knew her sister loved her, just as she had hoped Friedi knew Dottie adored her to bits. Pursing her lips in thought, Dorothea found herself agreeing with her sister’s words. “You are right. I think Ellie would be most mischievous, if she lets herself be like that. Maybe we should team up and coax it out of her. Perhaps that would help her relax.” She mused.

Dot attentively listened to her sister speaking about the deal she had had with father, and her own mood threatened to turn sour - surely, father would not be like that? Perhaps he would - perhaps she was being irrational, choosing to see the best in him, or perhaps she was being coddled and closeted by her mother; but, she did not want to argue with Friederike about their father, so she let it slide, the purse of her lips the only indicator that she had allowed her sister’s words to sink in. Their conversation meandered back to Eleonora, and the youngest Holstein nodded, soft hum escaping her lips. “I am not certain how she would have enjoyed it, either. She wold have probably endured it - she always seemed like the suffer in silence type. I think you would thrive there, if you are given enough freedom and respect - which I sincerely hope they will give you, lest they want me to march there and deck them all.” She added the latter, her lips quirking upwards.

“In the ocean, of course. But, I think you can find them in the waters of Japan and China, as well as on Barbados. Perhaps, since we are allied with China, as is your future husband, Bayezide could take you on a ship to China to watch them? And then you will have to admit I was right and send me the most extravagant gift you can muster; whether it is an odd collection of rocks or my miniature portrait painted by the least talented painter, I care not. So long as it is odd!” She softly laughed, then it ebbed into a chuckle. “Yes, I can imagine. From being bossed around by father, now you will, in turn, boss men around.”

“I cannot deny that.” The stark differences in the children of King Maximillian could not be denied. Not one was like the other, all growing up utterly unique. Perhaps that was a testament to how differently they had been treated in their lives, their mothers and their circumstances all resulting in a slightly different relationship with their father, or perhaps it was through the sheer force of their personalities. Despite this, there was certainly a large amount of love between them all. It was almost a miracle, really, that this was something they had managed to achieve. 

Friedi thought of the life she had ahead of her. The Ottoman Court had long been known for intrigue. Bayezide was proof of that. She was prepared to enter that world, and she knew if she had to, Eleanora would too. Would she have done a better job than Friedi, the more wayward of the two? Would Bayezide come to regret the twin he had been given? “I want better for Nell.” She spoke quietly. “I am sure I will be happy with Bayezide, but I do not think the Ottoman Court will be easy. And Ella deserves that much. An easy life.” Nothing for the twins had ever been simple. 

“Perhaps. I should very much like to see China,” She mused, before bursting into laughter at Dot’s list of demands. “You are a rarity, Dorethea.” She shook her head, smile wide on her face. “I will be certain to pick up the most random gift I see, wherever I may see it. It will certainly make your birthday a lively occasion.” She had never thought she would find herself in a position where her orders would mean much, but plenty had happened that she could never have anticipated. “I hope the men I’ll be bossing don’t see it like that.”