#gphq.starter

Strolling through the castle, the flags that had once decorated were being torn down. Many lay at a heap along the walls. She nodded towards guards and soldiers, indicating she appreciated their hard work. 

Coming to a stop in the throne room, the woman smiled warmly at the person standing there. “Taking it all in?” 

Roberto did not care that his father made Florence the centre of his kingdom. It was clear that this was one of the first changes the new king would make. His council, his court was going to be close to what he considered the real centre of Italy. It is where our history began he used to argue when he was trying to persuade his father about his decision to settle in Florence. Plus Robbie did like to have the Pope under his nose. A devoted Catholic did not have to be blind to the mistakes of the Church.  And there were ambitions in the young man`s life and he was already realising them, making people angry and suspicious but he tried to remain calm. There were so many things he had to deal with. The opening of the will, the coronation. Ever since her heard his father`s legacy that he was meant to marry his father`s mistress and he was to take care of his half-siblings he could not believe his own moral code. Because as much as he thought it pointless {his father was dead, what was he going to do? scare him?}, he also had a respect installed in him by years of teachings and his moral compass was quite strong. Family had always been the most important thing.  He was sitting in his dining room. The walls still bare, his palace was old and unwelcoming, the table solid but old. Way too long for one person. So far, no minister had been chosen and not many had been to visit him though he was expecting the courtiers to come by. But who was he to expect? Roberto {familiarly known as Robbie} had spent years by exploring faraway places, his favourite being the Amazonian forests. He had so few friends it was almost pathetically said. So when his servant announced a visitor he jumped with excitement {something he had felt ashamed of}. ‘Really? Oh, please, do let them in.’

The war was raging on and the Tsarina felt the weight of it upon her shoulders. Her thoughts, every moment was filled with war plans. Finance budgets. Who to send. Soldiers to commision. Things she’d seen at the war hospitals. The war chased the woman wherver she went. Anya couldn’t escape. Not even her dreams were a safe haven. Before they had been filled with her lover, her son. The family she wished to have properly but her husband stood in the way. Now...now she only saw death and destruction and ships advancing on their country. 

Anya woke with a start, her chest heaving as she struggled to come to terms with the fact that she was awake. The room was dark except for the weak, silvery light that streamed into the room from the moon. It was still the evening. Her hands came up and raked through her hair. The tossing and turning that had occured due to her nightmare had caused a mess of the braid her lady had constructed before she had retired. 

Still breathing quickly, her hands instinctively reached for the sleeping form of her lover. Needing to feel something solid. An anchor. Her fingers brushed over his bare back, finally allowing her to gain some semblence of composure. “Lyubimiy.” The Tsarina mumbled, not wanting to wake Alexander from his rest. 

“I’m just back from a trip and there is much that calls for my attention, but I can always spare time for you.” Augustus declared as courteously as he could, leading the way to a private room where they could talk. While what he truly wanted was a bath and a strong drink, it appeared that would need to wait. Not that he blamed his current companion for that, Augustus was certain there were many things he needed to catch up on and it wasn’t an appealing prospect. “Especially if you bring any word of excitement with you.”

This was the time of day Erika got to have some time away from the children. The older girls were in the middle of lessons, and Kara was spending some quality time with her mother. Erika took advantage of her free time to practice her fighting skills to be prepared if need be. Granted, not many chances came to use those skills as the caretaker, but she didn’t want to be given the chance to use them and be risky.

Recently, she had added to the workout routine to learn some new skills. It would only make her more versatile, and it gave her a challenge as well. This week, she had decided to learn archery, which she learned quickly was not her strength. While she was better than most, she was struggling to hit the target exactly where she aimed it. Erika sighed as another arrow hit a few inches below her goal on the tree. Might as well try again. She tightened the bow and went to aim when she saw a person in her path. “Oh! Forgive me!” she replied as she dropped her bow and arrow. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

she held tight to the last thing roberto gave her around her neck, a sapphire necklace. she stopped to look out a window, trying to look busy with taking in italy once again and hoped no one saw the tear running down her cheek.

though it struck her as reckless to travel separately from her children, lucrezia was thankful that she had listened to the advice of others — just this one time. her unaccompanied travels gave her silence, which was something she hadn’t had in a long time. ever, if anything. she rested her feet upon the seat across from her, leaning in the most unladylike manner among the cushions. she would cry in this rare moment of privacy, but she’d exhausted her tear ducts at the funeral and the endless feasts.

of course, there was the option to stay in rome. to run the home and act as a face of the bank. but it was never her home nor her bank to begin with. the mother that survived her son had run the palazzo before her, and her brother-in-law was a more trusted leader than her. lucrezia had no place there without her husband. it broke her heart to leave rome behind, but there was nothing left for her there except to accept condolences. if anything, this was more for her children rather than for her. her eldest daughter, contessina, was nowhere near fourteen, and she’d already had eager suitors knocking on her door. she turned them away, for the sake of preserving the idea in her mind that her daughters were solely hers. but it pained her to feign naiveté.

they had traveled ahead of her, as lucrezia took care of packing up the household to move. coming back to florence, she felt like a dog returning home with its tail between its legs. but she’d done her duty. of course, she didn’t provide a son to ronaldo, but he had a younger brother whose wife was young and pregnant. for italy, she’d bore brides — peace treaties in petticoats. all things considered, it was a job well done.

her head rested against the cushion, deciding to watch the scenery as she passed by. fields of golden wheat against blue sky, workers that only paused to see the woman in black creep by. soon sky turned to stone as the city walls of florence grew near. she peered out to the city that she’d grown up in; it had barely changed. as the carriage approached the royal palazzo, she sat up and adjusted her skirts. she smiled as she saw the sole figure waiting for her.

“your majesty,” she grinned, taking the hand of her attendant as she stepped out. “i hope you were not waiting forever for me. for it would be my greatest displeasure to put the kingdom’s issues on hold for you to stand — unguarded, may i add — and wait for me.”