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@silverxvein
Princess Victoria Windsor of England
Bio - Threads - Musings - Aesthetics - Face
Queen Consort Rosalia Sousa of Portugal
Bio - Threads - Musings - Aesthetics - Face
Grand Vizier Syed Ali Khan of India
Bio - Threads - Musings - Aesthetics - Face
King Eric Oldenburg of Denmark
Bio - Threads - Musings - Aesthetics - Face
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@englysshehart
The De Sousa web extended wide, their network reaching even the furthest corners of the globe. Rosalia didn’t even realise how far their influence extended - not until she became queen. When she had gotten married, the letters had come crawling in, all declaring themselves her family’s dearest friends.
Agnes was different, though. Rosalia knew her only a little through their families mutual business connections, but she genuinely liked her. She had extended her an invitation for a private lunch,. It would do her good to spend time with somebody outside of her capacity as queen - even if only for a meal.
“I’ve brought gifts from Portugal, for your children,” she picked up the package, unwrapping it carefully to reveal a set of four hand-carved and painted wooden puppets. “I am not certain if this is the type of thing they would like to play with. My brother and I used to spend hours creating our own stories when I was small.”
@silverxvein | Rosalia Sousa
Sigyn had spent most of the morning at the archery range in preparation for the hunt that the Greek court promised was on the horizon. She’d even balanced and tipped a new set of arrows for the occasion, and once she found their flight was true off of the shelf of her hand, she decided to sit back and observe others in their practice. Unable to be idle, as she watched her hands fiddled with a bundle of wildflowers she’d found lining the fence she leaned against, fingers weaving their stems together, forming a braid that lengthened the longer she worked. Cold eyes shifted from the range only at the approach of another woman, one whom she recognized from court, introduced alongside the King of Portugal. Not renowned for her welcoming nature, Sigyn turned to face her, for more casually than the woman was likely owed, “Queen Rosalia,"
Eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled her brief introductions upon their arrival to the palace, "I wouldn’t have expected to see you here. Have you come try your aim as well, or here to watch this…” she gestured with her face to the range, before labeling it, “mess.”
Rosalia was no archer. She had no intention on taking part in the hunt herself, but there were Portuguese men and women who would be. It was her job now to show her face, even if she didn’t understand exactly why. Her presence gave the courtiers nothing, and she felt utterly useless. She hated that feeling. She was desperate to prove herself, and this all just felt like a waste of her time.
Her eyes raked the range, before settling on the princess nestled on the outskirts. Rosalia had made a point of learning the names of everyone who was staying in the castle. She feared making a mistake. That was the last thing she wanted for Portugal.
The girl was sitting alone. Perhaps that was by choice, or perhaps, like Rosalia herself, it was because she didn’t quite know where she fit in. It was the latter that drew her over. If she didn’t want her company, she would soon tell her.
“Princess Sigyn,” she greeted her warmly. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment?”
Rosalia considered the question, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “I am no archer, unfortunately. I only wanted to wish my Portuguese friends luck on their hunt.” Never mind that the Portuguese courtiers who had joined them looked down their nose at her queen. Her luck meant nothing to them. “I hear you are quite the archer yourself? What a wonderful skill to possess.”
reclaimedynasty:
beatrice knew the silence. it was something she often did as well. she kept her face neutral to the other, but her fingers started to play with a stray thread. “i have heard so as well, it took myself almost five years on the island before i saw snow with my own eyes. its truly even worst in person, and you are not missing anything, your majesty. i myself know i am missing out on hot italian winters, with no snow.”
“Still, there is something very beautiful about it, from what I can imagine,” Rosalia sounded almost wistful. She offered the other a kind smile. “Consider yourself formally invited to Portugal next Winter, in that case. If you are able, you might be able to miss the snow entirely.”
diadcms:
“enough younger siblings and one learns they can do anything through the mightiest storm.” the prince grinned. “no, some letters to reply to- updating his majesty my father and the like.” he nodded to her work. “and what of you? matters of life and death, or less urgent affairs?” ismail asked the queen.
“On behalf of younger siblings everywhere, I do apologise,” Rosalia chuckled. “I am certain my own brother must have thought the same about me for most of my life.” That was part of why she was so tolerant to his constant demands, no matter how reluctant she was to grant them. “Please give your father my best. Portugal sends its regards.” She shook her head at his question. “Nothing so serious as all that. I’m simply trying to write to my mother.”
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TIME: mid-day / afternoon
LOCATION: training yard
“Hytham, I’m not going to break no matter what mother says. You must hit harder or the sun is the only thing bound to make me sweat. Take your break, brother and I’ll see about finding another sparing partner for the afternoon” He called out to his personal guard who was wheezing after the whooping kynon had given him. It was important even in times of peace to keep well-trained. Peace was only ever a stalemate in this the game of life and being prepared for anything was a strategic move. Wiping the sweat from his brow, shirt partially open Kynon was a stunning sight with his toned musculature even if he wasn’t exorbitantly tall. He was fit, athletic and a man his people could call king. He was handsome. The sun hung high above their heads, dangling on an invisible string lighting the world with its awesome power. Truthfully it was a miraculous thing but coupled with rigorous training in sword fighting, always keeping ones sense sharp it served to broil mortals alive regardless of position, noble or otherwise. “Gods its hot”
Victoria rarely graced the training grounds. She had very little skill with weapons, but could use a light bow well enough. Drawing the string left her arm aching, but she was capable of hitting a target when the need called for it, and with the hunt looming, a quick brush-up of her skills seemed in order.
She knew that in coming here, she ran the risk of running into him. She was no naive girl when they began whatever it was that they had, but when he broke her heart, she felt as though it aged her thirty years. She had never known a hurt like that. Perhaps she was lucky, in a way, that this was the worst pain she had known. And yet, still she felt the lingering feelings, devastation and anger and longing all mingled into one. What he had done to her was unfair, and a part of her wanted to scream that in his face, to make him understand how he had made her feel. The other part of her didn’t want to react to him at all, even as he exclaimed about the heat, didn’t want him to know how much he still clawed at the back of her mind.
“Is it?” She spoke in clipped, frosty tones, as though the ice in her voice would freeze the sun itself. “I hadn’t noticed. But then, my mother is Italian. Perhaps I inherited her tolerance for heat.”
thrcnedhearts:
“I must agree, it’s not the easiest of languages. It took me years to grasp the basics, but my tutor was always so insistent,” Sofia admitted with a soft chuckle, remembering the looks she received whenever there was something she could not understand. “The key is always to make people think you know exactly what you’re saying. If the others don’t understand you, you can always just shrug it off.” At the question, Sofia’s smile faltered just slightly, although she would not stammer. “I wanted to explore the area beyond the palace. It would be a shame to say I’ve been to Greece and only have seen their palace.”
Victoria had never met a tutor who hadn’t washed his hands of her. She had been unruly and untameable as a child, impossible to coax to sit and learn. At times, she had felt downright stupid, until she had made her own way in the world and realised that she did have skills of her own, even if they weren’t academic. “Perhaps I can pick it back up whilst I am here, though I’m afraid it’s too late for me now.” She didn’t think to question the change in the other’s expression, putting it down to her own nosiness. She knew she had a tendency to push too far, and some people just weren’t comfortable with that. “I agree. I’ve been out riding as often as I can. There are some beautiful sights to see.”
englysshehart:
as a princess, victoria’s own retinue was much larger than the two or three maidens and a couple of nurses agnes carried under her own household, and the countess knew from first hand — as she has not hesitated in helping the younger break free from the stuffy company of the aforementioned in the past — that it was no easy feat to be rid of many who would hover over her, ready to tell or curb every move. “is that why you have abandoned me so very often in court while you sweep every gold in every competition in sight, sweetling ?” the raven - haired does not help the tease, though she does listen attentively to the other as she speaks of her plans — if one could even call them that.
rather unceremoniously, agnes snorts out a chortle, shaking her head in faux disapproval over the tale told by her friend. “i am sure they have not. who would dare to do so ? there is only a handful of plucky people lower born than yourself, and we learn to hold our tongues at times.” admittedly, the lady sussex has hardly been successful at this, especially not with the windsor children, when she was bold enough to consider herself almost as a family member, seeing as her own children shared blood with the princes and princesses of england. “if i was to mimic your actions, i’m certain it would not be something i’d do on purpose, that much horrid my own pronunciation is. either way, that only means you have to accompany me on an adventure one of these days. do you think anyone would dare to give us a lemon instead of some port if you were with me ?”
Agnes didn’t know how right she was. On the road, life was freer. She travelled with guards, but precious few ladies, and surrounded herself with those who she trusted not to treat her as though she were something that may break. “Can you blame me? It is all such a bore.” She let out a theatrical sigh. “Besides, I’ve been around people now. Normal, ordinary people. They certainly don’t care about those silly little things.” In court, the expectation was high, and Victoria frequently fell short of those set upon her. Amongst the people her parents ruled over, though, she could laugh, and live, and feel nothing but unbridled joy. “You could have joined me if you weren’t dedicated to the little ones.” Agnes was one of her dearest friends, but their paths had diverged dramatically. Victoria wasn’t sure she could ever see herself as a mother. Not since her dalliance with Kynon had she ever even thought about romance.
“I wish somebody would,” Victoria admired boldness in others, a trait she possessed herself in spades. “You certainly would if I was making an ass of myself, though I suppose you are quite the special case.” Agnes was as good as Windsor herself, if only by proximity alone. Another laugh escaped her, as though she delighted in the idea that she could be presented with a lemon. “Shall we test the theory, hmm? You do not have the children now. Shall we get scandalously drunk and order some lemons?”
Syed traversed the same path he had been walking every day since his arrival in Greece. His path to freedom, or so he hoped. His plans weren’t quite ready to be put in motion yet - but they soon would be. He would be a free man, even if that meant never returning to his homeland again.
One. Two. Three. Four. Left turn.
A twig cracked under his feet, and Syed swore. He needed to be able to do this perfectly silently, leaving no trace he had ever been here at all, even if it happened entirely in the dark. But he had never been light of foot, nor quick on them.
Another twig cracked behind him, and Syed turned, trying not to appear as guilty as he felt. “We’re a long way from the castle,” he remarked, miraculously managing to keep his voice even. “I could never walk so far at home in India. The sand gets everywhere,” he chuckled, raising a hand to smooth his beard.
@enthronedarchive
AVAILABILITY : ft. @silverxvein
her ladies would be furious.
agnetta knew of this, yet her urges remained impossible to be subdued and before she knew it, she had scooped out the little cat from the place grounds, holding it close to her and keeping it hidden behind her woolen cloak. agnetta was known for her kindness and sweet-nature –– and also of her naive and oftentimes immature nature. she was never known for her profound thinking nor self-inhibition, and perhaps what happened today was one of the many examples of it.
‘oh please don’t cry out,’ came the slightly distressed voice of agnetta as she tied to hush down the creature in her arms, wet and trembling from the cold. if anyone were to find out that she were sneaking a stray –– would she be punished? the afterthought came a little too late. perhaps not, she reasoned with herself. she was a princess, and surely a trivial matter would only give her a slap on the wrist.
it is not her hosts that she were so afraid of, it was the fuss her ladies would’ve thrown and the disapproving look she would certainly receive from them. perhaps that was why her heart seemed to palpitate, seemingly wanting to jump from thee cavities of her chest.
the young woman moved in a way tat was incredibly unusual of her –– there was no spring in her feet and the usual merriment that always seemed to accompany her was nowhere to be found. and her eyes –– her brown eyes were cast upon the cat she desperately tried to hide, instead of where she was going. it was no surprise that she almost crashed into another person. ‘oh, oh, i’m terribly sorry. i should’ve watched where i am going!’ came her quick apology as a small mewling voice came from inside her cloak.
The only reason Eric had bothered accepting the invitation to Greece in the first place was out of intrigue. Stories of mad kings and the like intrigued him, but now he was here, it seemed like it was too little too late. When the king died, so did everything that was interesting about the wretched country.
Not that Denmark was any better. Marginally so, perhaps, but only because in Denmark, Eric made the rules. He spoke what he wanted into existence, and nobody attempted to argue with him. Not anymore, at least. Those who did had a nasty habit of disappearing hastily, and the court had quickly learned to bite their tongue.
Greece was another matter. If he was to have any power here, it would be of his own creation. if some form of amusement could be found within that, so much more the better.
He was mid-thought when the woman collided with him. Eric blinked a little, studying her swiftly to get his bearings. Oh. This could work. “There is no need to be sorry, my Lady,” he smiled. He knew that when he smiled, and honeyed his words, he was good at getting people to like him. To trust him, even. He had one of those faces, he supposed, and those who made the mistake of trusting him didn’t realise what an error they had made until it was too late.
The mewl coming from her clothing caused his smile to drop, however, brow furrowing as his eyes raked over her, looking for the source of the noise. “Er... was it you who made that sound?”
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thrcnedhearts:
Fingers brushed along the spines of leather-bound books, eyes scanning over the intricately etched titles as Sofia sought one which would catch her interest. Over time she had learnt that there was no better way to seek information than through people, but libraries were a close second. There were infinite secrets and knowledge hidden between the pages of books, and the Spanish queen was more than interested in learning them all. Eyes paused on a book bound in red leather, and she gently pulled it out, a satisfied smile creeping onto her lips. It was then that she noticed the approaching footsteps, and her head slowly turned in the direction of the approaching man. Offering a bow in returned, she clasped the book to her chest as her attention shifted onto him. “It depends. What kind of books would you be interested in?”
The expensive ones, Eric thought, though he certainly couldn’t say that out loud. It wasn’t going to win him any favours with his fellow monarchs, no matter how much his kleptomaniac tendencies satisfied him to no end. And so, he kept his smile on his face, turning his back on the treasure he truly coveted and moving to take a seat beside the Spaniard. He didn’t ask if he could, and that was typical of him. He always took, took, took, and never gave unless he could help it. But what else could she have to offer him apart from a seat in the library? “History, perhaps? Greece is certainly full of it, is it not?” He questioned, leaning back in his chair casually. “But I am far more interested in what you have been reading. You look as though you’re enjoying it, if you don’t mind me saying.”
reclaimedynasty:
the king of austria looked up from his work. how was it the library was quieter than the rooms he was given to conduct affairs of state. well. until this moment. he passed off his book to an advisor and stood. he bowed in return. “what subject are you wishing to dive into?”
Eric was far too used to being the most important person in the room. When faced with another of an equal rank to he (better, perhaps? Austria was a bigger country, after all), he couldn’t help himself. He kept his composure, but his jaw set a little more firmly, his shoulders squaring into his most regal posture. “Philosophy. We are in the birthplace of it, after all.”
in the early afternoon, most of the greeks in the palace was asleep. silvia, however, was unable to sleep during the day, even if was the local custom. therefore, she now sat in a cool seat, a bowl of olives, which had been brought to her as a snack, by her elbow and a book open on her lap. she looked up on hearing footsteps. “the world is unusually quiet for this hour, for a moment i thought i might be the only one left in it.”
If there was one thing Syed could say about Greece, it was that it had brought him a peace he had not known for years. Since he had become the Grand Vizier, every hour of his day had been consumed with thoughts of India. He even dreamed of work, for the little amount he did sleep. Here, though, there was diplomatic matter to attend to - and that was it. No work. No worries. If it was like this all the time, he might find the whole thing a hell of a lot easier.
He was just looking for a place to relax, to simply enjoy the sun as it was meant to be enjoyed, to feel it warming his skin rather than use it to count the hours he was running out of, when the woman called out to him. He did not recognise her, but knew, like most of the visitors, she must be royalty, and that alone was enough to bring him into a bow. “Do you like the quiet, your grace?” He asked, one eyebrow raising slightly in question. “I am sorry to have disturbed your peace.”
@silverxvein
yelena had been walking through the walls on a quiet night, humming softly. she hadn’t been able to sleep and decided to explore more while there wasn’t many people. when she saw rosalia, yelena dipped her head in greeting as she said “greetings your majesty.”
Rosalia had only been queen for a short time. She wasn’t yet used to people standing on ceremony around her - especially when such a large number of Portuguese people bowed to her face and whispered behind her back. “Hello,” she responded, nodding her own head in return. She pushed the basket of fruit in front of her towards the other, gesturing for her to take her pick. “Won’t you join me?”
reclaimedynasty:
at the word winter beatrice pulled her shaw closer to her body. she was sure the winter here was better and warmer than those in england, but now her old joints were feeling the coldness deep within them.
“it is,” beatrice nodded, looking to the other. “though i am sure this winter will be nothing like we have up in england, but i am welcoming the change. even if tonight it feels as though we are in england.”
Rosalia had never been to England. Her uncles had sailed North for trading once, and returned with tales of a wet, miserable little island, but the Portuguese king would never say that out loud. If she had nothing pleasant to say, she would pause and think about it until she did. “I am told it is even colder in Norway and Sweden. I cannot imagine such a thing. I’ve never even seen snow in real life.”
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. it had only been a few months since he’d left its shores and arrived in greece, so to confess to such a thing would be to acknowledge a measure of weakness inside of himself. something he could not do. weakness was after all a trait that stephen not only deplored in others who possessed it, but a trait he denied had ever existed inside his blood or that of his offspring. no, what he was feeling couldn’t be missing, it had to be something like, tiredness. ‘cause he was tired. tired of greece and its constant sunshine. tired of endless mingling that got him no where in the grand scheme of things. tired of ‘rumours’. what he needed was some kind of break from all of that.
heading outside stephen found himself roaming the numerous lawns in front of the palace. to where? he knew not. if he’d been back home he’d have situated himself around his dogs and horses, but they were too far away now to summon, so instead he allowed the rubbled path in front of him to decide his footing and take him towards an isolated spring. stripping down to only his braies, stephen decided in order to embrace greece and its humidity he might as well ‘dive’ into it. arms posed he dived off the same rock he had just hid his clothes behind and landed with a loud splash right in the centre of the spring. well done. he’d have clapped himself on the back for execution and form, but a branch snapping behind him caught his attention. exposed and lacking any sort of weapon– no that was incorrect, he was more than capable of defending himself with his bare hands– “who’s there? don’t try and run away now. i’ve already heard your clumsy, heavy footedness.”
Victoria was utterly restless. At home in England, she rarely stayed in the same place longer than a week. She drifted from city to city, either for her horse racing career, her charity work, or simply because she was bored. Remaining stagnant wasn’t something she was capable of. Even as a child, she had always been on the go, unable to sit still, pay attention, and do as she was told. In Greece, escaping on a little adventure of her own was next to impossible. They were bound to one place, one castle and one city, and that was driving her a little mad. Her only reprieve from repeating the same day she had since they had arrived was her daily horse ride. Every day, she took a different route, and rose until her skin shone with sweat.The horse she was borrowing for today was a barrel of a thing, so fat that finding a comfortable seat on his back was difficult. As soon as she had him out in the open, though, that didn’t matter. He might have been rotund, but he was fast, and took as much pleasure in careening through the forest as Victoria herself did.
She didn’t know how long she had been riding for when she dismounted. Both she and the horse needed a break, and preferably some water, before continuing back to the castle. the only problem was, she had no idea where she was. She took a few tentative steps forward, only to double back at the sound of a loud splash. A splash meant liquid, after all, and perhaps something that was drinkable.
She wasn’t surprised to hear somebody call out. The splash was an indication that there was somebody nearby, after all. What was a shock, however, was hearing the voice of the King of England. “It wasn’t me!” Victoria called out, indignant in the face of his insult. Leading her horse by the reins into sight of her father. “He’s heavy footed because he’s a heavy boy. I don’t think he’d like being called clumsy, though.”
@silverxvein : victoria windsor.
sorrel ran ahead of the english duo with enthusiasm, nosing at every other patch in the ground and wiggling its ruddy tail, every now and then glancing backwards at its owner but ever continuing his excited pace — agnes cared not, though her eyes strayed from her companion to the lap dog from time to time, just to make sure he would not disappear among the greens and the statues of the garden. agnes had always prefered the outdoors, taking great enjoyment in exercising, and there were few people with a similar fire to her own, and most of those paled in comparison with the princess victoria whom, though quite a few years her junior, had often left the elder in awe of her spirit.
“is it always like this, on your travels, darling ? ” the lady sussex inquires, turning to the other with softly puckered lips. “of course we did not have an extensive period of preparing,” after all, it was a funeral and a coronation that guided them across the known world.”but i can not help but to feel i should know better greek — i am eager to explore what this country has to offer, yet i feel i am bond to make a fool of myself when i understand so very little of their odd tongue.”
Victoria has always gotten along with people easily. There was some who found her too spirited, too difficult, even annoying, but on the whole, people liked her, and she liked them back. Despite that, she didn’t have too many people she would call a true friend. She blamed that on the fact that most could simply not keep up with her, and as a result, she found them a little dull at times. Agnes was the exception to that. Though marriage and motherhood meant she was more grounded than Victoria, more stationary she had never fell into the realm of boring. Her spirit matched Victoria’s own, no matter where life had took them.
“No. There’s usually a great deal more fussing over me. In England, anyway,” Victoria retorted with a chuckle. A combination of her royal status, her accomplishments on horseback and her charitable contributions had made sure of that. “A planned trip is usually a boring one. At least this way, there’s a bit of excitement with it. Besides, making a fool of yourself is half the fun. I’ve been annoying the servants with the most ridiculous pronunciations, just to see if they’ll correct me or not.”
