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Β Β Β Β Β Β the midday hours reserved by the french monarchy for respite and prayer, the hallways meandering throughout the hotel saint-pol were as silent as a crypt ββ save for the clamorous stride of the king of castile as he trooped the uniquely vacant corridors. wintery gusts of wind slipping through chasms in the ancient stone fortification quickened his footfalls, hastened from the interior of the castle into the blustery courtyard where his lungs immediately filled with fresh gasps of air. alfonsoβs nose furled almost immediately in disgust as his senses became alert to the groundβs pungent scent of brine, wet wool and the nearby stables, blanketed in a deceiving blanket of pure snow that the king possessed little patience for. yet, against the soot gray walls of the castle, alfonso described a familiar face that gave him reason enough to believe that his visit was not altogether in vain.Β
βΒ lady sessa,Β β the king beckoned, treading along the mounds of snow to reach the duchess and her young kin. he observed the moment with a nigh impatient flicker of his brow, arching into the curve of his hairline as the noblewoman before him shared an intimate comment ββ one he suspected of being peculiar for her person.Β β one can only hope it will not soon last, β he remarked in regards to the snowfall, his suspicion subsiding into pleasantry,Β β i trust that the weather will not obstruct your lord husband from attending the council i convened this evening? in your invitation to france i had hoped to convey theβ¦ importance, of lord sessaβs fealty to me. it is my goal that it was felt by his wife also.Β β
βββΒ
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β βΒ majesty. βΒ she greeted with a polished curtsey, gloved hands clasped before her as she stood shoulder to shoulder with the king. a flicker of warmth and amusement glimmered in her pale hues,Β βΒ i pray you reference the snow and not the innocent wonderment of a child. β petra responded in a light jest, knowing full well his earnest meaning. as the conversation shifted in tone towards her husband, the duchess offered a gentle nod, though was left somewhat perplexed over his motives in raising such a question. the duke was his dedicated confidante and admittedly, whilst also cunning, her husband had proved himself a loyal subject thus far.Β βΒ his grace would never allow something as trivial as snow to keep him from attending his majesty.Β βΒ and he certainly would not allow another voice to whisper in alfonsoβs ear.Β
turning to face the king, petra conveyed a look of concern as she gazed up at the taller figure.Β Β βΒ iΒ assure you, your majesty, my husbands fealty is to you and only you. you are his king and it is an honour for him to serve you in any way he can. β the words of devotion came easy; though gentle, as was petraβs usual tone of conveyance, they were nonetheless meant to soothe and emphasise conviction.Β βΒ as it is my honour also. you are my king and i am but your obedient subject. βΒ Β
while marguerite would insist that paris was beautiful no matter the time of year, there was a certain magic to it when the snow had first fallen. it glistened in the sunlight, untouched by hands and feet that would eventually turn the white tufts into slush and ice that was much too easy to slip upon. the courtyard already felt brighter as snowflakes descended and she wondered what her beautiful chÒteau would look like with the river nearly frozen beneath it and the parapets covered in white to match the stone façade.
though margueriteβs own son was too young to play out of doors in such weather, she looked forward to the days when he would be older, when he would take such pleasure in nature as the child in front of her clearly was. ( she worried wondered if philip would have tired of them both by then. ) her head turned and she inclined her jawline, her fingers ensconced in fur-lined gloves. βit is a beautiful sight indeed.β her eyes flicked back to the other woman. βand snow is the most beautiful when it has first fallen.β the corners of her mouth tugged upwards. βhow old is your son?β she inquired, only wondering after the words had left her mouth if the young boy belonged to another.
--Β
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β her chin dipped in a subtle greeting to the other woman, curious eyes quick to flicker over her form in an attempt to place her likeness; in failure to do so, petra surmised that they simply had not met, for she never forgot a face. a smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned back toward her son.Β βΒ it truly is. βΒ glancing around, she noted the layer of snow clinging to bare branches and the blanket of untrodden whiteness where the overjoyed children had yet to roam βββ she also noted how it seemed to thicken as it fell from the heavens. the womanβs question momentarily went unanswered as petra stepped forward,Β β marianna, bring julius inside now, it is getting colder. β the boys nanny obeyed with a curtsey before taking the childβs hand in her own and hurrying inside; petra watched them leave before turning back to the woman.Β Β
β apologies, julius shall be five come the autumn. βΒ it was remarkable how quickly they grew, yet that was a little adage she kept to herself, though should the woman be a mother herself, she would certainly understand the sentiment.Β βΒ i do not believe we have before βββ petra von erbach, duchess of sessa. β it may not have been customary to introduce oneself, but she found it necessary in such an instance.Β
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Β Β Β Β Β Β petraΒ had been to france once in her life and that was merely in passing as she travelled from vienna to castile to attend the princess in her marriage to the the king. with a deep fear of the ocean, or rather, sailing upon it, she also opted to travel by litter, thus her arrival in castile had been delayed. yet, her sojourn through france had implanted some fond memories, lingering sentimentalities of the chateaus that had lodged her along the way. paris, however, was a distant cry from the picturesque french countryside and sadly found itself plagued by the usual ailments of an overcrowded city ββ the stench alone was enough to make her queasy. fortunately, that day there was a freshness clinging to the breeze, credited to a light dusting of snow and ice.Β it reminded her of home.Β
Β not usually one to be afflicted by sentimental pathos, petra was quick to tighten the fur about her chin and focus instead upon her son and his nanny, the pair with their hands outstretched in an attempt to captured the falling flakes. it was juliusβ first snowfall and a memory that the duchess was keen to commit to memory. β is it not a beautiful sight,Β seeing a childβs firstΒ interaction with snow ? β she spoke to the figure beside her.Β β i do not belief iβve ever seen such a manifestation of innocence. β
ANNABELLE WALLIS, 30, PETRA VON ERBACH. β β€βΆ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by the πππππππ ππ πππππ, πππππ πππ ππππππ, from πππππ. they are at best ππππππππππ, and at their worst πππππππ ππ. whilst abroad, their ambition is to πππππππ πππ πππππππππ ππ πππ ππππππ ππππππ πππππππππππ πππ πππ ππππππππ ππππππ πππππππππ πππππππ. SHE seem/s to remind everyone of annabelle wallis & hushed whispers in darkened hallways, a a saccharine smile masking hidden intent & ocean blue eyes burning in ardent wonderment. βΒ Β
Petraβs Achilles heel is undoubtedly her mysterious past. She adopted the name of her patron, to mask her less than humble origins and infiltrated Apolloniaβs (and later Alfonsoβs) court with the pretence of a pedigree. It was the first lie of many that would see her climb as a courtier within the Holy Roman Empire and yet, as an almost obsessive believer in the fates, Petra knows better than most that as high as fortunes wheel will take you, she will also take you to the deepest depths. Sheβs come this far and she would hate to see it all go to waste, especially now that she has a true position in Castile and dare she dream, true influence. Yet she is still tethered to this mysterious βFatherβ whom she so rarely speaks of and to explore that dynamic, plus the potential threat it causes would help her development as a character.
There is a portion of Petraβs life that is a complete mystery to her. She knows only what she has been told by the Bishop von Erbach; that her family were peasants and they died during gods great purge some twenty years ago. The only thing that spared her the same fate as her parents and siblings was the bishopβs mercy and he has made certain that she never forgets to whom she owes her life β first him and then to god. She was raised in the Bishops palace at Mainz, but until she had proved herself worthy of luxury, she lived a spartan life. Her days were endless, filled with chores, lessons and offering devotions to god and yet she felt thankful to the bishop for he had saved her from pestilence and now bestowed unto her a plethora of opportunities. Her education was befitting a prince, and her tutelage into the art of courtship befitting a princess. At sixteen she was introduced into Mainz society, introduced as the Bishopβs niece, she charmed and flattered, all the while keeping one ear pressed to the ground as she collated gossip and intrigue.Β Β
Within time she had proved herself enough to the bishop, so much so that he had secured a place for her in the court of the Holy Roman Empress, serving as a Lady and companion to the Princess Magdalena. Before parting, however, he divulged their true objective β to work towards the fall of the Empress. Petra knew what was expected of her, she would use her skills of observation to report everything back to him and she would do all that was instructed of her. Including accompanying the princess to Castile upon her marriage and to find herself a suitable husband, one who might bring her ever closer to the Castilian royal family. It did not take long, her impressive dowry and demure looks appealed to the Duke of Sessa and they wed some months after Magdalena became queen. In the previous years, she gave birth to a child, a son named Julius and she with that something new materialised within Petra, love. His birth has also made rise to self-determination and self-ambition; although her loyalty is still to the bishop, she does have other interests now, namely surrounding her own ambitions within the Castilian court. Β
Β Saccharine is often the first adjective used to describe Petra; her smile is sweet; her gaze is gentle and she seemingly embodies the warmth of the sun. Naturally somewhat reserved, she is not usually one to draw attention to herself unless it is something acquired of her. Around court she is known for her engaging and sensible conversation, her intelligence recognised and often praised, though seldom without the word βsensibleβ prefixed to it. Essentially, she does not flaunt it or use it to emasculate. Like a chess master she is patient and subtle, but above all, she is calculating and meticulous. Where once the smiles and warmth felt hollow, motherhood has made them less so, as to with the gentleness. A deeply pious woman, she is a staunch supporter of the catholic faith and somewhat loathes Castileβs coercion with CΓ³rdoba. Yet her view of religion is also somewhat skewed, it is self-serving in a way and whilst her piety is admirable, she is not opposed getting her hands dirty.
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