𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒏

freya   had   grown   a   tough   exterior   over   the   last   year   .   if   someone   had   said   such   things   to   her   more   than   a   year   ago   she   might   have   ran   away   crying   .      but   now   freya   allowed   it   to   go   in   one   ear   and   out   the   next   ,   and   thanking   that   it   was   being   said   to   her   face   and   not   behind   her   back   .   though   she   expected   the   other   to   gossip   about   this   exchange   later   with   everyone   within   the   court   or   her   social   circle   .   freya   had   to   keep   reminder   herself   ,   small   minded   people   talked   about   others   .   

finally   ,   she   called   out   to   rab   and   the   scottish   deerhound   came   running   back   to   her   .   she   turned   to   geillis   then   ,   her   finger   wrapped   around   her   dog’s   collar   .   “   no   i   wouldn’t   ,   your   highness   ,   ”   she   agreed   ,   smiling   to   the   other   .   “   is   there   anything   else   i   may   help   you   with   ?   i   must   be   on   my   way   now   .   ”

Freya called the dog back, and Geillis watched it run at her summons, and the Lady take it by the collar. It felt like an ending, and, unsurprisingly, Freya turned to smile at her pleasantly, though Geillis kent it was out of necessary politeness. The two of them were no closer for having had this conversation. In fact, she felt that she disliked her brother’s mistress even more, if that were possible -- the woman was far above her station, and showed no remorse or awareness for the pain she was causing the Queen of Scots, and the people. Geillis smiled back, but it did not reach her gaze.

-

“Do not apologize, the costumes I wear are so extravagant that I find that even I can’t identify myself when I catch a glimpse in my reflection,” He teased. Although he personally thought the costumes performers were could be a bit distracting and didn’t wear them once he moved to Austria, he had brought them back after his father passed away, as he was always a supporter of them. “Oh, I’d very much appreciate that, my lady. Perhaps I’ll have it ready in the upcoming festivals.”

“London’s air is in much need of change,” He mused, thinking back to when his family had stopped by the popular city. Beautiful buildings with decent weather, though. “Oh yes my entire family traveled in a performing troupe. My father did plays while my mother danced and did acrobatics, she was the one who taught me once I grew of age. And before I moved to Austria the twins were beginning to their own balancing act. If I can get the king’s approval I’d like to do show with them all again, I know my mother has missed it since my father passed.”

.

“Aye,” Geillis agreed with a smile. “I’s no wonder, with all that makeup you wear!” She did enjoy the evening’s entertainment, though, and often found herself smiling for hours after when she remembered some bawdy joke, or song they had sung. The lad agreed to perform the song, and Geillis nodded. “T’is no trouble. I’ll get it to you in no time.” It would remind her of home, hearing that song again. It had always been one of her favourites, since she was a girl.

​LOCATION: the large hedge maze in the french gardens

FT: giuliana, crown princess of italy & open / @1642hqs-starters​

She was lost yes, turned about and mixed up at which direction to head know it would be simpler to climb the tall hedge and go over the top but that would not be ladylike and would cause italy much embarrassment. However it was a small price to pay in the evading of Francesco Morosini, son of the dodge of venice and sea captain who had eyes on wooing a future queen. In so doing this, having much practice with a man she’d rather have find her than the arms of Duke Morosini here she was at another dead end. “I shall be trapped for hours here - perhaps I should pray to all that is holy that the duke doesn’t find me or I may need to climb the hedge to escape him… ”

.

Geillis preferred the outdoors to the interior of the stuffy, overcrowded, French court. She had made an effort to converse with other royals, curtseying and making small talk, attempting to understand their foreign accents. But now she needed time alone, and she was walking through the dim hedge maze, her skirts trailing behind her, having stepped away from the company of her ever-present ladies. She heard a voice a short distance away. It seemed to be coming from beyond the hedge.

if    the    other    asked    about    the    gesture    she    had    an    excuse    ready    ,    her    stomach    as    of    late    hadn’t    been    the    best    .    and    really    it    wasn’t    a    lie    .    freya    had    never    enjoyed    lying    ,    even    as    a    child    .    maybe    it    came    from    her    faith    or    maybe    her    moral    compass    ,    she    wasn’t    sure    .    but    her    second    worry    was    how    geillis    and    her    were    standing    ,    and    the    angle    .    she    would    need    to    ask    if    she    could    have    more    dresses    made    ,    and    with    a    new    silhouette    to    hide    her    ever    growing    stomach    .    

she    let    out    her    breath    ,    when    the    other    finally    replied    to    her    .    but    still    she    kept    her    eyesight    straight    ,    never    happier    to    have    rab    with    her    ,    and    something    to    do    with    her    hands    .    and    freya    was    happy    for    that    .    in    the    beginning    she    had    so    wanted    a    relationshop    now    .    she    wasn’t    so    sure    ,    if    anything    that    ship    had    sailed    so    long    ago    .    and    now    geillis’    company    and    sudden    half    attempt    was    an    annoyance    ,    and    she    was    sure    geillis    viewed    her    company    as    the    same    .    and    there    it    was    ,    if    freya    had    wanted    an    argument    she    might    have    given    a    short    laugh    .    but    now    ,    freya    kept    silent    .    and    she    thought    .    it    would    mean    the    world    to    her    king    and    lover    if    they    should    somehow    be    civil    .    but    freya    was    not    a    fool    ,    and    she    knew    once    the    word    was    about    about    her    pregnancy    they    would    take    ten    steps    back    for    their    one    step    forward    .    

“    its    .    .    .    ”    she    paused    for    a    moment    .    “    far    too    much    for    a    simple    country    girl    like    me    .    ”    and    finally    she    took    her    eyes    off    the    fields    before    and    rab    ,    turning    to    the    other    .    “    how    do    you    like    it    ,    your    highness    ?    ”

.

Geillis was grateful for the presence of Freya’s dog -- it gave them both something to look at, instead of each other. She kept her gaze trained on him as he bounded closer to them, smiling a little stiffly. She partly regretted attempting to talk to the Lady in the first place -- there was little chance of friendship between them. She had made her feelings on Freya’s relationship with Alis plain as soon as news of it had reached her, but she had always expected it to die down eventually. Kings took mistresses, aye, but they rarely flaunted them the way Alasdair was showing his off. Geillis had allowed, for a while, for their affair. But now? It was ridiculous, and shameful, and the woman who had caused it was right there next to her, enjoying the fineries of France. Alasdair should have left her at home, in Scotland.

giovanni felt his hope fleeting as the young woman across from him failed to identify the plate in front of them. perhaps giovanni could go on a hunger strike and refuse to eat until he scrounged up some fresh bread tomorrow morning. however, that wouldn’t exactly be the most respectful nor brilliant idea. giovanni offered the other a mischievous grin, pleased that the princess didn’t seem as stuck up as the others. he watched her like a hawk, blue eyes steely as she picked up a piece. “good,” he murmured, before taking his own bit. giovanni thought it was strange but not entirely awful. “it’s…very french.” that was the only way he could describe it. 

.

nikolai was surprised to hear the old oak doors creak open. he thought that most people would be enjoying the festivities outside instead of brooding inside like him. the tsar looked over his companion, and if her red hair didn’t give her away, her accent certainly did. the princess of scotland. being that nikolai was a good friend of her elder brother’s, nikolai did not mind the interruption. really, if it were anyone but his family, nikolai would be happy. he nodded his head, pouring the young royal a small glass of wine and holding it in her direction. “i’m afraid i am not one for large parties. never have been and i imagine that i never will be. what about you? are you interested in some midday reading?” he asked, quirking his brow up. 

.

Geillis took the glass the tsar offered, and smiled gratefully. “Slàinte mhath,” she said, taking a sip. She kent that the tsar was an ally of her dunderhead of a brother, and she thought it was a good thing to get along with him too, for their country’s sake. As much as she thought they would nae make many long-lasting allies here, she saw no reason to be unfriendly. particularly right now. She raised her eyebrows as he spoke, listening interestedly, before scoffing in quite an unladylike manner.

@scotlandprincess​

there was nothing more that catharina wished for than to be home, with her own people. in this moment, filled with grand food and dances, beautiful fabrics and people, she simply longed for the simplicity that came within the confines of her own walls. while she was one who loved fine things, she knew that this was all to try to distract them from the truth. their countries were suffering and they were all hiding here. they were meant to be here to discuss how they could fix things, how to rebuild, and instead they were throwing a party to celebrate. when in reality, what was there to really celebrate? 

after hours of entertainment and interactions with others, catharina found herself exhausted and in need of a moment alone. there weren’t many places she felt she could be alone, but she slipped into the hedge maze in hope that there would be less people than other locations around the palace. as she disappeared further into the maze, she found herself stopping in front of a statue in the walkway, admiring and judging it at the same time. while she was distracted, she could make out footsteps as someone approached her. without turning to look, she spoke up, “it’s all a bit… much,” she turned to finally address the person directly, “wouldn’t you agree?” 

Since trying some of the French food being offered, Geillis had decided to drink instead, and was currently standing alone, watching the various nobles and royals dance and converse. She held her glass between her fingers, and swirled the liquid, smiling politely at strangers who glanced her way. But Geillis had perfected, over the years, the ability to be unapproachable without being overly rude. So, she remained where she was for a little while longer, before retiring from the room, and heading out into the hedge maze. The evening air was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and she wandered through the hedges, lost in thoughts, wondering if her brother was parading his mistress in front of the foreign royals.

the festivities outside caused the palace gardens to be filled with laughter and music, yet the tsar found himself inside the dark library. it seemed like the only place he could think properly. he was in a sour mood, a rare sight for the usually friendly tsar. he could not help this bubbling of anger at the french festival. such lavish displays of luxury while the people of russia still recovered from famine and disease. to the tsar, the entire event was a mockery of those who suffered these past few years. the sound of the door opening surprised him as he looked up. “i see you found my hiding place,” he murmured, shaking his head. “i’m afraid i will not be good company.” he paused. “care to share a drink with me?" 

Geillis had been having a fine time at the ball, enjoying the company of her ladies, and mingling with the other foreign royals, until she had caught sight of Lady Vass. It had made the food turn in her stomach, and she had to seek solace in her own company. She kent that everyone would be outside, or in one of the crowded halls, so she walked to the library, excusing herself from the company of her ladies. She pushed open the door, and caught sight of a tall, dark-haired man. She recognised him as the Tsar of Russia, at once.

his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at the person across from him, trying to gauge what they were doing. the french provided such fancy food for this event that giovanni couldn’t identify half of it. “apologies i do not…” his shoulders shrugged as he held the food in his hands. “know what this is.” after a moment’s hesitation, he spoke again. “i’ll try it if you do,” the guard suggested, blue eyes flashing to his companion. 

Geillis had managed to keep from eating too much French food -- it was too slimy and foreign for her tastes -- but the festivities meant that she could no longer avoid it. She wrinkled her nose and looked at the plate in a most unladylike manner. “I dunnae ken,” she agreed, doubtfully.

it   took   everything   within   the   lady   not   to   look   up   at   the   sky   and   ask   god   why   .   but   she   did   close   her   eyes   ,   her   hand   going   to   her   stomach   for   a   moment   before   she   beant   down   and   took   the   ball   from   rab’s   mouth   and   threw   it   once   more   .   

she   was   stalling   ,   thinking   of   what   she   could   possibly   say   to   the   other   .   nothing   came   to   her   mind   .   and   still   as   the   other   spoke ,   nothing   came   to   her   mind   .   freya   had   tried   in   the   beginning   and   then   when   everyone   freezed   her   out   she   stopped   trying   with   the   royal   family   ,   and   made   her   own   small   friend   group   within   the   nobility   of   the   scottish   court   .   how   she   wished   now   to   be   with   them   .   she   would   almost   give   anything   for   one   of   her   friends   to   be   with   her   .   she   let   out   a   shaky   breath   .

“   you   don’t   know   a   lot   of   things   about   me   ,   ”   freya   whispered   ,   smiling   as   her   beloved   rab   came   towards   her   once   more   .   she   didn’t   know   much   about   the   scottish   princess   ,   only   what   her   brother   had   told   her   .   but   she   didn’t   make   any   moves   to   try   and   pretend   she   knew   anything   about   the   others   .   

.

Geillis glanced at Lady Vass’s stomach for a moment, frowning, but did not say anything. It seemed an odd gesture, but she did not ken the other woman well enough to comment. They stood in silence as Freya threw the ball again, and the dog took off across the grass to chase it. Geillis watched it go, waiting for Freya to carry on the conversation. What did her brother see in this woman? She had no idea. True, she was beautiful, but no more fair a beauty than the Queen of Scots. Was she really work bringing so much shame to Clan Stuart for?

-

“Ask no further, I perform every night and every other day,” He reveals. “Singing is one of my newer acts so it might take me a few rehearsals to get the song right, but I see no issue in performing it.” He loved the challenge of learning a new piece, especially when it originated from another kingdom. His natural gift of picking up new talents one of the reasons why he was chosen to accompany the Austrian court to their travels here - easier to make allies when their entertainer knew their most valued traditional songs and stories.

“Oh it was a beautiful sight to behold,” He admiteed, reliving the memories he made as a child. “My mother said it was the cleanest air she’s ever inhaled, and she’s been to more kingdoms so that means something.”

.

“You do?” Geillis asked, her eyes lighting up. “Ach, I’m sorry. I did no’ recognise you from the evening entertainment!” She waved her hand in apology. “I can write down the words for you, if it helps. It’s a very easy song to learn.” The fact that this lad was an entertainer explained why he’d travelled so much, and she kent know why he spoke to her almost as if she were a commoner. She didn’t mind -- it was an odd but welcome change. Only her siblings spoke to her in such a way.

@1642hqs-starters​  ━━ freya + open !

freya   wasn’t   one   to   take   no   one   an   answer   ,   or   to   wait   and   ask   alasdair   what   she   could   or   couldn’t   do   .   it   wasn’t   her   nature   or   how   she   was   raised   .   and   that   was   how   freya   found   herself   in   the   fields   just   beyond   the   french   palace   .   in   one   of   her   most   simple   dresses   ,   her   hair   in   a   loose   bun   and   her   prized   and   beloved   dog   at   her   side   .   she   wasn’t   here   stay   in   a   palace   that   looked   the   same   at   scotland’s   once   inside   .   she   wanted   to   see   the   countryside   and   what   made   france   .   .   .   france   .   

she   and   rab   trotted   around   the   field   ,   laying   for   for   just   a   short   period   before   she   picked   up   a   ball   to   throw   for   the   dog   .   “   go   rab   ,   go   !   ”   the   lady   cheered   ,   clapping   her   hands   .

.

If she got far enough away from the palace, Geillis could almost pretend she was home again. She told her entourage of ladies to stay behind and see to the running of the Scottish quarters, and she walked out of the grounds, and into the field. There was nothing but greenery here, and she raised her arms out at her sides, and spun around, soaking in the sun, smiling. She rarely got time away from her ladies and, though she loved their company, it was mighty freeing to be by herself.

Euphemia glanced down at her lap, tracing the intricate embroidery of her dress, tiny thistles etched woven into the fabric, a reminder of home. It was difficult to try and be a voice of hope but the world was about to enter a period of rebirth, she was certain of it and the Queen of Scots wanted to be at the head of the pack. She could no longer sit about and wallow in her own grief, not when Scotland was on the precipice. “Aye, we were denied in the past, when we had nothing left to give nor lose but regardless, there are other, far-flung kingdoms who we may befriend. England will sorely regret their weak indifference and we shall flourish as their convenient king loses the love of his people. The memory of his elder brother and his untimely demise will not be easily forgotten, I’m sure.” She shrugged, harsh words tumbling forth as she resolved to put England out of her mind. The past was the past and their neighbors to the south did not factor into the queen’s ambitions.

Euphemia had spent many nights thinking about Scottish exports, took care to send funds to the farmers and convents so they could continue to grow food and sell their wares, doing all she could so that the population would become healthy and productive again. Other countries would have need of their livestock, salt, coal, and wool and in return, Scotland would require wood, iron, and grain should the harvest be lacking. But Euphemia had since held her tongue, unsure if she could involve herself the minutiae of government and trade while she and the king were estranged. How could she go against him when their marriage had become a ghost that haunted her waking hours?

“You are right, we have reason to be apprehensive but you mustn’t worry, m'eudail. We shall never let our people be taken advantage of and I do truly believe there is hope of a prosperous path forward. Alasdair, I believe, is still bereft at the suffering of our people and the loss of our poor Alexander, as am I. Perhaps, he fears venturing into this changed world, knowing that it is always the king who is held accountable no matter the outcome. Perhaps, he only sees what can be lost and not what can be gained…” The queen trailed off, suddenly saddened that she could only offer inference, unsure of his true feelings. In these moments she missed him terribly, not merely as a husband but as her oldest friend. “Of course, I cannot know his mind and we cannot comprehend the burden of kingship. We can only do our best to help shoulder that burden where possible.” She caught herself then, sinking into the quicksand of such serious matters, not wanting to drag Geillis down with her, “I suppose that means keeping our thoughts on French fashions between the two of us. For diplomacy’s sake.” She added, allowing herself a faint but jocular smile. It was necessary to find light in even the most worrisome matters.

Geillis always felt calm around the Queen of Scots. She exuded a calm and a presence that Lady Vass could ne’r hope to compete with. Just sitting with her here reminded Geillis of home. She listened in silence as Euphemia spoke, nodding at regular intervals. “Aye, that’s true,” she agreed, thoughtfully, the mention of England’s King sending a chill down her spine. Only God kent the truth about what had put that man on the throne, but Geillis couldnae help but wonder. She kent the talk, and she kent why their closest neighbours had no’ helped them during the plague, but the betrayal (and it did feel like a betrayal) still hurt. She couldnae see Alis making inroads with foreigners, not while he hung onto that harlot of his, and brought shame to their country.

She kept her face impassive as Euphemia continued, trying not to let the mention of her poor nephew show on her face. She had locked herself in her room for days after the lad had passed, raging at the world, and God himself, for taking him away. She marvelled at the Queen’s resilience in the face of her brother’s betrayal to their marriage vows, and smiled encouragingly when she trailed off. “Perhaps,” she agreed, softly. “But we cannae know his mind. I have no’ known it for a long time now.” Ever since Alexander had died, and Alasdair had taken to being seen with his mistress in public, Geillis had no clue of what was in his head. She kent the responsibility he carried, but it was no excuse for what he was doing. “You’re very brave, Your Majesty,” she offered. “And I hope you’re right. There is a prosperous path forwards, for us, and for Scotland.” Those things were, after all, one and the same.

              𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐦   𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡   𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫   𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 ,      𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬   𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧   𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧   𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞      as  steps  took  advisor  a  bit  closer  to  the  princess :      a  part  of  those  yvaine  would  consider  her  own  family ,      the     𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨  𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳     one  never  had      ―       treated  as  such ,      with  care  and  everlasting  protection .      there  was  a  feeling  of  peace  whilst  in  geillis’  presence ,      as  if  to  balance  the    𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨  𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙞𝙡    the  harrower  would  face  before  the  oldest  stuart :      for  whilst  they  all  had  shares  of  intensity ,      the  princess  held  a  much  more  rational  portion .

                 ❝  i  would  be  busy  with  helping  your  brother  with  the  french  if  he  was  interested  on  dealing  with  them ,     rather  than  just  stay  with …  ❞         halt  came  with  a  roll  of  eyes ,      the  moon - kissed  woman    𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜    to  utter  the  name  falling  upon  all  her  concerns .      ❝  it  doesn’t  matter ,      i’m  not  here  to  annoy  you  nor  myself  with  this  kind  of  conversation .  ❞

               ❝  but  i  am  glad  to  see  that  you’re  alright .  ❞         once  more  modulated  voice  was  touched  with  care ,     warm  tones  forming  yva’s  words  as  her  attention  remained  upon  geillis .        ❝  and  i’m  alright ,     nothing  to  worry  about .  ❞       the  advisor  once  more  presented  a    𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚    to  the  stuart :      yet  such  soon  to  decrease  as  one  thing  came  to  her  attention .       ❝  who  braided  your  hair ?  ❞         question  was  followed  of  new  steps ,      careful  fingers  unhesitating  to  touch  the  other’s  locks  of  hair .       ❝  it’s  not  all  bad ,     but …     please  do  sit  down ,     my  dear ,     and  let  me  fix  this .      so ,     before  coming  here  i  was  thinking ,     while  your  brother  is  busy  we  should  take  advantage  enjoy  the  gardens  with  some  tea  later  today .      maybe  even  ask  the  queen  to  join  us  if  she  feels  like  it .     what  do  you  say ?  ❞

Geillis’s smile faded when Yvaine mentioned Alis and that whore, and she said, “Oh,” in a cold tone. “I see. Aye. It’s best to no’ talk of it.” She had been relieved to learn of her brother’s advisor’s feelings on the matter -- the room always got colder when they spoke of the Lady Vass, which was why they rarely did. When she saw Alasdair again, Geillis kent she’d give him a piece of her mind. They were here to sort out their relationships with other countries, but he was off galivanting with his mistress.

Yvaine smiled, and Geillis mirrored it, smiling back, grateful for the subject change. “Oh! Lady Muir,” She said, reaching up to touch the braids. “T’was no’ her best attempt.” Yvaine approached her, and Geillis let her touch her hair without complaint -- they had been intimate like sisters since childhood, and Yva had a way with hair that none fof her ladies could hope to copy. So, she nodded in agreement. “Aye, thank you, Yva.” And she sat down at the dressing table, and looked in the mirror as Yvaine spoke.