Never get between a Queen and her ax

the suggestion coaxed a snicker from the princess, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn’t traded one dreadful conversation for another. she didn’t know much about the queen of scotland, but the woman clearly possessed a sense of humour, which was a most welcome turn of events. “frankly, your grace, if i had a grave dug for every man who’s ever made a clumsy attempt to woo me, switzerland would be a graveyard.” a rather boastful statement, but modesty had never been amara’s forte. “he certainly seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice.” she scoffed. “his adventures did sound very grand, and his accomplishments far too good to be true. i initially gave him the benefit of the doubt because, well — my hand will be given to a suitable gentleman sooner rather than later, and i would prefer he be a man of my choosing.”

-

“I’ll stick to my beaches, the cold isn’t for me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, I can’t imagine it being too much for you.” She wasn’t sure where the Queen was from exactly, he thought somewhere, probably Scotland as well. But she had been right, he’d seen much more snow here than he had when visiting Scotland. “Affairs are always such a fun topic for nobles, we get together and we can’t seem to escape the gossip.” He knew more about the dalliances of the Scottish King and woes of the woman in front of him that he ever asked for. “My family are used to having me take every responsibly on my own shoulders and leaving them to their freedom. There’s some resistance to me choosing to follow my own path.” 

“In the past few years, the world has suffered enough tragedy without the need to be at war.” She likely meant more than just five years in the past, but Renaud thought he made a good point that her being away from combat did not mark her as unique among those gathered. “As you train daily and the skills of your soldiers precedes you, I see no reason to complain.”

And if he was disappointed, then the training lessons would simply cease with a murmur of how it would be rude to intrude on their generosity any longer. At some point, there would come the call for a price, and that was what he was interested in, as well as the improvement of his forces. If France was to continue to grow, then their army would need to grow and improve as well to defend what was theirs, especially without the plague to be in the way, and as far as Renaud knew, there was no reason it would hurt to be on good terms with Denmark while it was under the rule of its current king.

“ My husband was the one who sought war at any cost, any cause was worthy to start one in his eyes.” She stated without batting an eye, for she was tired of her husband’s ghost chasing them. His actions still had repercussions on that weighted heavily on them all. “ I fought when my home was in danger. Despite my reputation, I only take up arms to defend my family. “ Katharina couldn’t quite place why she had decided to defend herself, for she cared not about what those outside of her family thought of her; they were outsiders, their opinions held little to no concern to her. Even so, seeing as Renaud had gone out of his way to recruit her perhaps he ought to get a glimpse behind her reasoning to fight. “ Training keeps the mind and reflexes sharp in my experience.”

"How have you - Okay, obviously it's not as popular in your country as it is in mine, but trust me. Golf is very important in Scotland." Not that Andrew had anything against indoor activities, but he liked being outside and being cooped up in Switzerland's admittedly fine castle all the time wasn't for him. He could always go out riding, but sharing some of Scotland's culture seemed more important - that was part of what they were all gathered to do, wasn't it? @1642hqzstarters

“Of course we’ll leave. Truthfully, I don’t even know what we’re still doing here.” He could have sworn he even heard someone accosting the queen of Switzerland and saying they needed to be put under curfew, as if they were simple children and not rulers who had guided their people through the plague and other natural disasters - some with better skill than others.

But in truth, he agreed with Isabella, they would be safer at home, he would feel better if they were at home, and he reached out to her slowly. “Come here, darling?” He offered, unsure if the gesture would be welcome, but understanding her worry exactly since they had already almost lost one child to the plague and were not in a rush to repeat the experience so far from home.

Her husband’s offer barely passed his lips for Isabella to walk straight into his arms, wrapping her own around him as her head rested against his shoulder. There were only two people she allowed herself to be this vulnerable, her husband and her best friend; even around their children she still attempted to be her usual cheerful self even when all she wanted to do was cry and scream into a pillow until her voice was raw and rough. 

einar turned his head at his mother’s call, brows furrowing faintly before he pivoted to walk over to her without a question, back soldier straight as it always was. despite the years that had passed since aslak’s death, he still felt rather … distant from his family, unsure of his place with them. he had spent so long away, had grown so accustomed to his life without them. it had been an empty one, but. it had been his, & he had expected to die that way. he had been ready to die that way. living past the end of that story, finding that life in the danish palace had entirely moved on without him, was a disorientation he was still learning how to live with. he was not a man used to talking about that feeling, a distance he seemed to share with his mother.

he clasped his arms behind his back as he came to stand beside her, head tilted slightly. “what can i help you with ? “

The moment her second son stood beside her, she linked an arm with his. “ Walk with me. “ She said in a gentle tone, her ice queen demenour forgotten for a while when in the presence of one of her children. Einar was the one she had the coldest relationship with and not by either of their doing; another parting gift by her once dearly beloved husband and his wild obssessions that could’ve torn their family apart. 

Amitis’ duty was to know people who would be at the summit, and even before that she was to know the people in charge of countries who could be allies or enemies. Denmark wasn’t a country that was at the forefront of her families mind due to their location but she’d had to learn a little about them. She did admire that even their women were able to fight. Too many countries kept their women sheltered. 

The Queen Mother Katharina Magnussen was someone she’d been told about, a warrior as well as a former queen. It was something she could admire. Her own fighting style wasn’t as rough, more of a dance for her, graceful when able. But this was something. It reminded her almost of her father’s general Fereshteh the woman who’d taken her under her wing as a child. 

Looking down at the straw head, she shook her own, “Not to worry, I’m not afraid of my clothes being stained, and should you bite me… I would certainly have a story to tell then wouldn’t I?” 

Katharina watched the other woman as she set the ax’s head on the ground, leaning onto the knob for support. Her words, although reaching her ears faintly due to their distance were an slightly amusement to her, one she wouldn’t let show with her mask of coldness in place.

Open starter @1642hqzstarters​

“What are you looking at? I’m fine, everyone loves being interrogated.” You would think that Julian would know better than to take a snippy tone, but those that knew Julian would likely wonder if he had any other kind of tone at all. While he knew that all the staff were meant to undergo questioning regardless of what country they belonged to, that didn’t make it a good experience.

@1642hqzstarters ⸻ OPEN STARTER.

she’d been lingering in a courtyard not far from her chambers, so close to sweet freedom and yet so far as she listened to a gentleman prattle on about his recent accomplishments. the princess wasn’t shy to speak her mind, but he was both high-born and a guest in her home. ever-lacking in self-restraint, however, it was only a matter of time until her patience would snap like a frayed thread. with a clenched jaw, her gaze was fixated on his wine (the blithering idiot had the gall to smirk, likely thinking her eyes had settled on his lips) — a shove of her shoulder and the cup would go flying, staining expensive fabrics. would he fly into a fit of anger? blame himself? suppress his frustration for the sake of the princess?

alas, intrusive thoughts were set aside when another presence joined them at long last. amara instantly rejoiced and tore her eyes away from the gentleman. “ah, there you are! i’ve searched all over the palace for you.” the swiss princess exclaimed, promptly sauntering over to the other. she hesitated for another moment, remembering her manners and spinning on her heel to face the gentleman once more. “my apologies, these are most pressing matters. we will find an opportunity to resume this conversation another day, certainly.” with that, she turned her back to him and waltzed off, gesturing the other person to tag along. “i’d sooner dig my own grave than waste another second of my life listening to that man’s drivel.”

Isabella’s stroll had been cut short by the Swiss princess’ abrupt change in conversation, for she was merely walking by her and the gentleman the younger woman was speaking to rather than joining them. Even so, she played along for she enjoyed such tricks far more than people ever suspected. “ My apologies, Your Highness, I fear I have yet to become acquainted with the gardens. I lost my way twice. “ She lied with ease, a light laugh leaving her to sell it further. “ Surely, I didn’t make you wait long in such fine company? “ Nothing like inflating the man’s ego before their departure, as she waved her goodbyes as soon as the princess all but motioned for her to follow and she obliged.

Humming, Vicente nodded to show that he’d been listening, and he had a moment to wonder if the strict divide applied because of gender to multiple professions or just those of entertainers. He wasn’t going to interrogate the woman, but he was glad for the king’s sake that she hadn’t refused him out of some sense of propriety. Did this mean it was the first time that her own ruling family would be seeing her perform? What a thought that was.

“Seems I keep saying one wrong thing after another with you.” A slight twitch of the corner of Vicente’s mouth gave away that it was a self-deprecating jest. Better to give a woman too much respect than too little, after all. “Having unhappy guests doesn’t make for good relations. Was anyone expecting a rude welcome?” It was still said casually, but Vicente did want to know her answer, to see if perhaps she would let slip some rumor she’d heard, although she seemed far too polished to reveal anything so easily.

Lixue glanced at the soldier turned personal guide with amusement, which she found refreshing for once. She was far too used to the strictness surrounding guards it almost felt completely out of place, though she couldn’t let her guard down and slip up. “ If those are all your mistakes, I’m in safe hands. “ She said with a kind smile.

Head tilting, Soren’s gaze followed down to the level his mother indicated, trying to remember things from that small of statue. He could remember his father seeming large, but he always seemed large in Soren’s recollections, long past the time Soren was a child, and so that didn’t count. He could remember when his siblings were small, could remember when they could duck under his arm, but any memory of what it was like to actually be small was too distant to connect to. Perhaps because it felt like a story instead of a memory, Soren found himself starting to smile, lips pressing together as if to hide the expression.

He failed utterly when his mother said he smiled even then, and Soren ducked his head to hide his face to get his expression back under control, giving himself to the count of three to manage it. He was a king, after all, his back was supposed to be straight and his chin up. “In my defense, I imagine there aren’t many that would try to best you in ax juggling.” Or was that just Soren’s perception of her, that childlike tendency to imagine your parents as bigger, capable of more than most people, almost divine in their feats? “I know I wouldn’t attempt it, but axes have never been my favorite.” He could fight with one, of course. It was important to know how to handle yourself with a multitude of weapons and Soren had certainly trained with more than just a sword, but if asked to pick the weapon he was most comfortable with, perhaps even the top three weapons he was comfortable with, he wouldn’t choose an ax.

Katharina smiled still as she looked at her son, the way he was trying to hide from her the emtions the memory evoked. Was he afraid of smiling in front of her, had she failed him so terribly he couldn’t be himself around her? The thought made her own smile fall and cleared her throat in the process, as if it were her turn to hide her own emotions - and given her shift in personality and behaviour following her husband’s death nobody would be too surprised. 

“Queen Isabella.” He nodded, “A pleasure to see you again.” He’d met her a few times in his trips to Scotland to arrange the betrothal. As far as he knew, she’d yet to speak ill of his choice of bride, and that was one comfort. “You see snow far more often than I and that’s what I’ve found most charming.” He admitted. “It has been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting with the Scottish court, so I hope you are well.” He’d heard about the pregnant mistress and felt no need to comment on that. His own court had enough issues. 

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With too many guards there were bound to be holes rather than the desired effect to keep everything firmly secured. Leonie, from the smallest age however had mastered the skill of evasion as her nannies would scowl and father often found the little child pushing into his study. It was almost a game - in fact it was - to see how long one could evade guards and ladies and it had been played much to the quiet amusement and dismay of parents. So there sat in an empty courtyard casually playing a flute, serenading the birds and the flowers was Leonie waiting for another human being to disturb this scene almost laying odds it would be someone else before it was her pack of guards or the ladies in waiting who were sufficiently confused by the mess of hallways. Pausing, setting the flute down for a moment, Leonie scribbled on a piece of parchment beside them a few musical note pondering aloud “Perhaps by the time my ladies find me I will have written an entire symphony or at the least a song or two.”

Much to Lixue’s surprise her own rehearsing had been interrupted by the sounds of another instrument. Curious to see where the sound came from, she opened one of the windows of the room she had been allowed to use for her daily practice - she had to keep up with appearances after all; it seemed to come from the courtyard below. On one hand, she could’ve yelled all the way from the comforts of the room she found herself at but that would’ve drawn too much attention; on the other hand, seeking the player gave her an opportunity to see for herself what they were capable of. In the end, she chose the latter option as she marched outside to meet them.

she could barely contain the rolling of her eyes as the door opened. yulia thought for sure that she had found a private room to pout in. the grand princess had so many emotions swirling inside her, that she wasn’t sure how to express them. “i suppose you’re here to congratulate me on my betrothal,” she replies, miserably. 

Sanem’s fingertips were sore from the amount of arrows she’d fired into the target before her. Fighting wasn’t a passion of hers, the sword she’d been handed at a young age always weighed heavily in her hand. Having the bow in her hand, that did give her a sense of peace. If she was shooting a bow, she was never in a fight. This was just a skill, no different from sewing to her. A skill that had gathered an audience, “Are you here to shoot?” A smile gracing her face as she turned to her companion. @1642hqzstarters

“I think that there are always rumors, your Majesty.” Julian admitted from his position by the window, sighing as he stared out from his vantage point. Arms crossed, Julian had had to appreciate that the Danish seemed far more level-headed than anyone else gathered around in Switzerland - or at least the Dowager Queen was. As much as he hated to admit it, Julian knew first-hand how difficult life could be when you didn’t have ties to a court, and deaths were common, especially as the weather turned colder, harsher.

“People talk, and then they like to panic over shadows that aren’t there.” It seemed that if the Queen of the Netherlands were in any real danger, then they would actually know if something had happened, instead of this back and forth if she was injured and where. If someone wanted her dead, she’d be dead, it sounded like, and he wasn’t sure it wasn’t a cover for something else.

Like an excuse to interrogate the staff. “I haven’t been pulled in for questioning yet, but if they’re truly taking everyone, I suppose it will be my turn soon.” He didn’t even know anyone from the Netherlands and if Julian had any secrets to hide, none of them involving trying to kill anyone with his own hand.

Katharina remained silent, only listening to their advisor speak his mind on the matters at hand. She was certainly glad they seemed to have on their side someone who, for the most part, saw things as they did  though she had come to know Julian wasn’t shy from sharing his views even if they disagreed. Deep down she appreciated it, as she hadn’t been given reason to dislike him.

“ Rumours come and go, the more weight you give them the harder they are to go away. “ Or, like she did, she made them go away when they had to do with her husband and his infidelities by removing the root of the problem. She almost pitied the women. “ I may be in the minority; I won’t believe the plague has returned lest we see proof. One ill farmer shouldn’t be cause to panic. “ Perhaps she was being skeptical about the entire matter but she had other things to worry about. 

Oh, the full name still, what a terrible admonishment that was. Robert liked to think he was a man that rarely caused his wife to have true reason to be upset with him, but she was as skilled as any other when it came to making sure that he could feel her dissatisfaction. “Tell me how to make you look happier this morning, for one.” He suggested, taking in the tiredness in her face and voice.

Another thing Robert liked to think himself skilled at was knowing how to apologize, but sometimes sorry was not enough, it wasn’t what would truly help, and Robert’s penchant for dramatics was eager to show off.

Her eyelids closed as she reclined back against her seat, a heavy sigh passing her lips. God above, she wanted all of this to be over - her disagreement with her husband, the precarious situation of her friendship with Sorcha and the bloody mess in Switzerland; had someone tried to kill a fellow queen? Were the rumours of the plague true?