PETAL.

she knew her half siblings were not fond of her. she was not entirely fond of them, truth be told —- after all, they were a threat to her position in england, and to her future prospects. she remained civil, but she certainly felt a level of jealousy towards alice, one she supposed harry felt towards edward. she remained in her father’s favour, with rumours of a marriage to a king, whilst clementine was left with nothing. she would stop at nothing to prevent such a thing. shoulders shrug, and she turns, throwing the gown towards her maids. “you must go to the tailors and get them in acceptable colours. i cannot look so horrid.” with a sigh, she turns back to alice. “have you settled in well, alice?” she found some joy in being above her sister in title.

7  replies  =  70.

1  challenge  =  20.

total  =  90.

whilst leonardo had never visited the english court, alexander had told him enough about it and his family that he could piece it all together. he said he had three sisters: one barely a child, the other loud and demanding, and one quite beautiful and kind. he deduced, from the way she spoke, her clothes and her resemblance to his close friend, that he was meeting the latter. “it is sad, isn’t it? though, i hear of new, up and coming artists within italy, with skill one would not even believe. perhaps people will appreciate it more as it gains popularity.” he paused, eyes on the dome, before he turned his head to look at the young woman at his side. “you are a fan of art, yes?”

he was certainly surprised and proud at the same time, of all his siblings he had least expected alice to boldly try such a thing. but she did and he couldn’t help but commend her for it. “I’m glad you find it pleasant to taste, do tell me what else you would like to savor. I shall have more sent for the things you like. perhaps send a few of the delicacies here to mother as well,” alexander grinned. 

alexander adored all his younger siblings and each of their little quirks. he had found it irresistible to spoil them, especially his sisters who he knew would one day part from the country if they were to marry well. alice in particular was their mother’s latest agenda and well, if things were to go as intended - she would be queen. “shall we continue forth sister sweetest?” he offered his arm to her, happy to stroll alongside her. “how are you feeling about florence? has it struck your fancy?” the conversation remained as light as the sun. 

she  mirrors  her  brother’s  smile,  thankful  to  be  in  his  presence.  if  she  had  been  with  anyone  else,  cowardice  would  have  likely  overcome  her,  and  she  wouldn’t  have  eaten  the  oyster.  but,  with  alexander  she  feels  comfortable,  and  in  this  beautiful  city,  alice’s  confidence  is  growing  day  by  day.  perhaps  it  is  thanks  to  the  sun,  the  good  weather  reflecting  from  within  her.   “  ah,  you  know  my  palate  is  extremely  limited,  alexander.  what  would  you  recommend?  any  other  seafood?  ”

musingmemes‌:

a historical / fantasy / period / medieval friendly character survey.

reblog and bold your muses preference.

roses / cherry blossoms / orchids / tulips

winter / summer / autumn / spring

thunderstorms / sunshine / snow 

indoors / outdoors

meat / fruit / sweets

extravagance / traditionalism / minimalism

god fearing / non god fearing

cats / dogs / horses / birds

sunrise / sunset

day time / night time

fire / earth / water / wind 

reading / writing

rising early / sleeping late 

wine / ale / neither

fur / silk / satin / lace 

rubies / pearls / sapphires 

horse back / walking / carriages 

love / power

having company / being alone 

lakes / rivers / oceans 

knife / sword / bow / poison 

CHAPTER  ONE  :  little  hands,  little  feet.  a  childhood  spent  curious  about  the  world  around  her,  before  that  spark  could  be  stamped  out.  easily  scared  of  the  dark,  a  candle  burns  by  her  bedside,  a  young  girl  learns  slowly  to  read.  it’s  better  to  read  from  a  book  than  to  let  her  mind  run  rampant,  conjuring  scary  stories  to  fill  the  silence  of  her  bedroom.  alice  fitzroy  is  her  mother’s  first  daughter,  a  bundle  of  joy,  a  blooming  rose.  she  expects  that  she  is  to  be  a  princess,  but  quickly  learns  that  is  not  the  case.  a  fellow  noble  daughter,  a  few  years  her  senior,  is  the  first  to  inform  her,  an  innocent  asking  inquisitively,  that  she  should  watch  out  for  the  witch.  the  witch?  yes,  your  mother.  and  so,  wheels  begin  to  turn.  alice  was  a  loving  child,  warm  and  receptive,  but  the  first  seeds  of  doubts  have  been  planted.  

CHAPTER  TWO  :  in  her  early  teens,  alice  withdraws.  they  theorize  that  her  mother  is  a  witch.  they  say  that  she  and  her  full  -  blooded  siblings  are  products  of  treachery  and  poison,  dripped  into  the  ear  of  queen  lianor.  she  begins  to  believe  the  whispers,  despite  seeing  how  in  love  her  parents  are,  infatuated  with  each  other  in  a  way  one  rarely  associates  with  royal  marriages.  they  are  not  being  punished.  alice,  her  siblings?  they  are.  only  one  of  them  legitimized,  alice  hearing  her  name  being  thrown  around  as  a  bargaining  chip  already  .  .  .  she  doubts  she  will  ever  experience  love  like  her  parents.  as  the  evidence  of  their  sin,  alice  feels  the  rumours  and  conspiracies  weighing  heavily  upon  her  shoulders.  things  go  bump  in  the  night  and  alice  is  convinced  that  it  is  more  than  just  her  imagination.  a  ghost,  not  vengeful,  but  bitter.  

“a magnificent building, don’t you agree?” leonardo had lived in florence his entire life, yet found himself amazed by its beauty every day. the cathedral always stood out to him, as he was sure it did everybody else: few appreciated the brilliant structure for its architecture, but leo saw it as so ahead of its time that it begged for admiration. head turned to look at his companion as they sat on the balcony of the medici estate, his servants within reach. “do tell me you have something interesting to say about it. all the bankers in this house are such a bore when it comes to the arts.”

“wrong, wrong —— all WRONG!” her voice carried throughout the large, cool room, echoing off the stone walls. her hands balled up the white fabric, tossing it to the side with little care. clementine was incredibly particular, and could hardly bare to see such dreadfully made items. had her ladies maids brought with them the most vile garments they could find? she hardly approved of such disgusting designs, unable to vision herself in lime green or sunshine yellow: her fair skin and auburn hair demanded more definite colours, not ones that would humiliate her. focus was so clearly on her wardrobe that she hardly noticed the person behind her, until a creak of the floorboard drew her attention, and she turned sharply. fingers raised a brown dress, head tilted as she looked at her intruder. “hideous, no?”

florence was both familiar and not. alexander had visited prior but his trip wasn’t nearly as lengthy as this one would be. while most other men would have easily found their way toward the nearest brothel - alexander prided himself on being (a tad bit) different. 

the markets had fruits that were far fresher than the ones that england accumulated. he had made sure to make careful selection of them, deciding to store them for personal inventory for the future as gifts. he had his people take them, keeping an eye on the exchange as to not let any foul play fall in place. as soon as they were secured to his carriage - his attention was turned onto something new. 

he had heard of it but had never afforded the luxury of tasting it until this very moment. it seemed like he wasn’t the only person who was trying it either, “oysters, have you had anything this fresh? it’s like inhaling the sea.” 

travel  is  new  to  alice,  and  perhaps  the  most  exciting  portion  of  their  stay  in  florence  is  the  ample  opportunity  to  experience  new  foods  and  other  cultural  activities.  the  art  of  florence,  in  particular,  piques  alice’s  interest.  she  feels  privileged  to  be  in  such  a  city,  even  if  the  cause  for  them  to  come  here  was  less  than  desirable.  

hands  clasped  together  in  her  lap,  she  takes  in  the  salty  sea  smell  of  the  oysters,  eyes  wide  as  she  considers  the  delicacy  in  front  of  her.  cheeks  flush  pink  when  her  brother  calls  attention  to  it,  and  alice  shakes  her  head,  the  corners  of  her  lips  turned  upwards  sweetly.  she’s  slow  and  careful  in  the  way  that  she  samples  the  oysters,  the  unfamiliar  texture  of  the  fish  taking  her  by  surprise.

princess marija von bargau had seen enough of the inside of the vatican for one day. having decided to take herself on a small adventure, she ventured out into florence, smiling at passersby, paying no mind to if they knew to bow or not. after all, how could they? the only sign of her status she displayed was the escort following behind her and her garments - and those were most certainly a good sign of her wealth. she never did fail to dress in the latest fashions, taking pride in her wardrobe, not unlike a peacock showing of his feathers. 

having found a pleasant vantage point of the city, she lounged against the cool stone wall which reached nearly up to her shoulders. that stone was the only cool thing in the city. she was certain of it. her emerald eyes watched the people milling about and she imagined them as little ants. a little smile tugged at her lips as she watched some shouting children playing in the cobblestone street.

she stood, fanning herself and perked up at hearing some approaching footfalls. “i don’t know how they do it here,” she breathed out. “i do fear i’ll be struck down by this heat before nightfall…look, my cheeks flush!” she turned to look over her shoulder at her new companion, pale hand reaching up to her face. the redhead never could reject good conversation, even with a stranger. certainly, the wine she had been enjoying was not helping to diminish the rosy color of her cheeks. “and no sea, only a small river. a remarkable tragedy!”

the  florentine  landscape  is  a  welcome  change  of  scenery  for  alice.  despite  being  of  a  melancholy  disposition,  she  is  partial  to  the  summer  season,  and  she  never  sees  sunshine  like  this  in  england.  it’s  special,  and  it’s  what  brings  her  on  her  walk  today,  accompanied  by  two  ladies.  she  dresses  in  clothes  that  are  relatively  simple,  but  made  of  high  quality  materials,  apparent  in  the  detailed  stitching  present  in  her  garments.  she  is  on  par  with  her  companions,  preferring  to  keep  her  status  hidden,  if  she  can.  she  is  well  known  in  england           a  daughter  born  of  murder  and  witchcraft,  illegitimate.  in  florence,  alice  is  afforded  a  level  of  anonymity  that  she  appreciates  thoroughly.  she  feels  less  burdened  by  the  whispers  that  fly  around  the  english  court  with  every  step  she  takes  through  the  city,  allowing  herself  to  simply  feel  the  sun  on  her  face.

of  course,  florence  comes  with  its  own  set  of  rumours.  it  is  inevitable,  considering  .  .  .  but  alice  is  on  her  walk.  it  is  not  the  time  to  think  of  her  mother  or  the  french  king  or  any  scheming  in  which  alice  is  a  pawn.