#chrs.event

location :: NOTRE-DAME DE PARIS, INT. date :: FEBRUARY, 1459 status :: closed for @shahmehdi​​

the spiritual ambience of the cathedral was breathtaking; the grandieur of the structure paired with the earie light filtering through the stained glass windows gave the faithful and other visitors plenty enough reason to feel humbled within its walls. paris was a shining light in a dreary continent offering enlightment and beauty to all those that had flocked to honour the late king. it was impossible not to feel a sense of pride whenever one of the king’s guests admitted the magnificence of the city. cécile was of aragon now, but she was of france first.

concluding her prayer, the princess crossed herself and rose from her knees. the royals and nobles were granted a seperate part of the nave away from the common folk for their prayers. but not all visitors wished to communicate with god. there were also those who despite believing in other gods had ventured within to admire and be educated on the landmark’s history.

her attention was drawn to a face she had not seen among the royals in lisbon or in florence. his status as a nobleman was  indisputable considering his look and the fact he was allowed access in that part of the cathedral. with her interest piqued, mostly regarding his identity, cécile walked in his direction — his guard rushing to put himself between them and her own guard rigid at her side tense at the proximity. ❝ could i offer some assistance, my lord ?? ❞ her voice loud enough to attract the nobleman’s attention but to not disturb the other attendees.  ❝ i couldn’t help but notice you don’t have a guide with you. i couldn’t in good conscience let you go on without one. ❞ she added bowing her head at him; a soft smile on her lips.

@adalsindaofanjou​

caterina was very much trying to keep a low profile at this first, of likely many, feasts. it was all she could do to not give into the indulgently free flowing wine and food. a younger caterina would’ve been swept up in the spectacle of it all, like she’d been all those years ago in florence, but now she knew that it was all a facade for the serious plots going on behind the scenes. back then, she’d been part of the smokescreen, a young person too naive and rosy-faced to see the real purpose of the event. now she was hungry for a different type of fulfillment. 

she did however, still have to keep up appearances, and it wouldn’t do for the disgraced former princess to be seen sulking about or avoid the crowd. avoid the french, she could do for sure, and was doing it skillfully. to run into any of them would mean an agonizing conversation for sure, if not straight out confrontation, so she distanced herself whenever she heard the lilt of a french accent. she found herself relaxing a bit more, giving into the wash of conversations in ten different languages. it was this slight slip in attention that had led her into a conversation with not only some ladies from the assorted courts of portugal, italy, and russia, but hidden in their midsts, the beautiful tsarina of russia, adalsinda herself. or as caterina knew her as, her niece, by marriage. though immediately vexed, mostly at herself for not escaping the conversation earlier, she did not allow the emotion to show, instead dipping her head to the tsarina in acknowledgement, though no hint of graciousness crossed her face.

location :: HÔTEL SAINT-POL, QUEEN MOTHER’S SOLAR date :: FEBRUARY 1459 status :: closed for @blanchedanjou

upon stepping on french soil cécile’s spirits were lifted and confidence restored. as grateful as the princess was to her husband’s relatives in portugal for their hospitality and protection, the prospect of returning to france and surround herself with people she trusted and knew her whole life was a great relief. five years she had been princess of asturias and yet she had no place to call home other than france.

a wave of nostalgia and sweet memories of years past filled her mind as she was being shown to the queen mother’s solar; though the notion that she required the assistance of a paige to navigate the halls of this palace was laughable. as expected, her grandmother had granted  cécile’s request for an audience upon her arrival in the french capital; their correspondence over the years served as proof that the connection between them had not suffered from the distance or the years that had passed since their last meeting.

her arrival was announced and cécile was met with the sight of her grandmother sitting by the large windows. older but no less commanding, queen blanche retained all the strength and resolution she was known for in earlier years. she approached and sank into a deep bow before lifting her head and looking up at the older woman with a beaming smile. ❝ grandmother — ❞ as she rose, cécile reached for the queen’s hand and leaned closer to place a soft kiss on her cheek, ❝ it is so good to see you again. ❞