#th;ariana

What must it be like, to be a Queen dowager of a country? Did she miss ruling, or miss her husband more? As she looked at the Dowager Queen of Spain from across the room, Ariana had to wonder such questions. If her husband died while she remained childless, would Italy be in good hands? Would her voice remain heard, or would she be powerless?

Dappled sunlight falling across her features, Ariana was enjoying Switzerland's weather as she wandered along the paths of one of the castle gardens. For so long, being safe meant trying to stay inside away from contagion and being outside in pleasant weather still felt like a luxury, the sun falling down on her in full beams instead of a shaft from a window.

While Ariana was loathe to admit it, Italy needed help desperately, the plague having decimated so much of what they had until it was difficult to cling to the vestiges of glory that one would expect from royalty. They needed allies badly and Ariana viewed the gathering in Switzerland not so much as a party, but a gathering to settle business across the realm and give them all a fair chance at flourishing.

The stories that Ariana had heard of the Scottish queen and the image that she was met with during her stay in Switzerland did not match up and while it was true that Ariana was one to listen to gossip, that didn't necessarily mean that she believed it, or that she didn't understand that sometimes a women needed to scream her frustrations. If the Scottish queen was the type to scream, but Ariana knew what they said about redheads.