dependent multi muse writing blog for 1694hqs. currently featuring ; ILAIRA DE LUCA , PRINCESS AMARA TESAFAVE & LADY XIA DAIYU
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he who wears the THICKEST ARMOR
is often the MOST FRAGILE.
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viirtus:
Since the tragedy that occurred within the palace grounds, Lucien has not had a blink of good sleep as his mind wandered about the culprit behind the heinous crime. As deadly as the plague was, he cannot even consider the possibility of it returning now when everyone appears to be visibly healthy as if the plague never happened. When he learned of the death of the Italian king, his first thought was that a murderer is on the loose, and God knows what they could be doing at this moment, undetected, roaming right inside their home where his family slept — and so, his mind refused to let him sleep despite his body needing it to recuperate from his weeks’ effort to prepare for the festivities, only for it to end so grimly.
And so, two days after the death of the Italian king, the dauphin figured that the only way for him to regain even a sliver of peace of mind was to try and get to the bottom of things himself. Perhaps, he could help accelerate the investigators’ progress if and when he find clues that would lead him to the culprit, and the French court could regain the esteem of every guest it hosts as of this moment. After speaking with one of the guards patrolling the gardens, letting them know of his intention to go to the scene of the crime, Lucien headed straight through one of the openings into the maze, knowing it by heart after years of having gone through it in his spare time. Using the espionage skills he learned as part of the years he spent in the military, Lucien attempted to find hints, clues, anything that could point him towards the right direction concerning the culprit.
As he carefully examined the grounds further into the maze, closer to the spot where the Italian king was found lifeless, the dauphin looked around for any object that may have been left behind by the culprit. He knew that most of the time, people who commit such crime were not as careful as many would think, and there had been some cases when careless mistakes, such as leaving a brooch behind, led to the closure of what could have been a cold case had it not been for that one evidence. But Lucien found nothing, his gloved hands empty and frustration settling in his core once more as he walked towards the part of the maze where the king had died. Just then, the impact of someone’s body against him had him staggering back a bit — only for him to instinctively reach for the woman who had nearly fell on the hard ground, if not for his arms catching her just in time. His mouth began to shape out a word that would express his concern, to ask if she was okay, but the word never leaves him as wondering quickly replaced it — and then, suspicion. Once certain that she was perfectly fine to stand on her own, the dauphin lets her go as he welcomed a newfound curiosity towards the stranger. “ Quite an interesting place to be wandering and mourning about, is it not? ” He made certain to remark her crying, and though not entirely heartless, he knew mourning when he sees one and yet, something about her tears felt a little too much for it to be genuine. Lucien could blame it on his frustration and suspicious nature combined, but he was also not a fool to simply ignore the glaring questions in his mind. “ I trust you are not lost if you happen to find yourself right in the heart of this maze, mademoiselle. ”
Ilaria had learned from a young age the art of fake crying. though, she rarely used it since her body was so unaccustomed to it. she hated the idea of allowing herself and her body to become to uncontrollable and vulnerable, yet it was perhaps one of the best disguises she had. After all, who could possible question entirely why a person mourned they way they did? Ilaria took a deep breath, but it was shaky as her tears flowed and she needed a moment to recuperate from the sudden impact. it was obvious she was shaken, as her hand with her handkerchief covered her bottom half of her face. she knew it looked bad, but it was always better to self-incriminate one self. to allow such suspicion but still fight it was one of the many telling signs a person didnt do anything.
“I never liked the maze, it was so terrifying but I had to. I wanted to...I wanted to know what he saw before...before-” she couldn’t even finish her sentence as she sniffled and tried to dry her tears. “Signore, I know I shouldn’t be here but I just had to know if he died seeing something beautiful. When I asked around, I heard he had been by the display of Hysterias? I didn’t know what they were but look, this is the drawing I have and-and I guess I’m here.” she stated grabbing a piece of paper from her pocket in her dress of a somewhat decent drawing of the flowers. Ilaria had to calm down, she was in the presence of a man. She attempted to regain herself, trying to breath normally despite its shakiness and taking a moment as she closed her eyes. the entire time, her rather faint italian accent had become slightly more prevalent than usual, of course a ploy to play her role well.
“its stupid, and dumb. I know. I’m just a foolish girl who should just trust our Lord to bless the family I serve. I dont even know what I would have done if I didn’t find this.” she stated, regaining herself slightly though one could feel she was a little embarrassed by this whole interaction. Though, she never let on wha her mind was racing to do. how she was making a mental note of exactly what this man looked like, who he was among her vast knowledge of royalty and nobility, why he was here. So little were interested in interferring, less to get caught. besides the investigator who interrogated her and his team, she could only imagine herself and the actual murderer daring to come to the crime scene. little did she consider two people being as passionate and angry with the events that transpired to dare to investigate it for themselves.
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viirtus:
Her much anticipated reaction to his teasing did not help erase the self-satisfaction on his features, manifesting in the form of a half-smile that only meant to vex her more. Lucien was not lying when he thought he had missed her, particularly the coldness in which she would almost always treat him with despite him being convinced a long time ago that it was all for show. Still, that did not mean the dauphin was to hold back from his mischief this early in their encounter. There would be no fun in that at all. “ Do not be so dramatic. I am certain yours are not as pure as you make them seem to be, ” he goaded, the impish smile perfectly intact as he withdraws his hand, but his course of action remain the same. “ And how would I have known? You seemed to me lost and uncertain how to find your way back to the palace — I was merely offering a helping hand, ” and in a way, he was speaking the truth. He would be glad to help her find her way back, but certainly not without making the most out of this chance encounter. “ How are you still so cold to me when all I can think about is how I have missed you? ” Playful as his delivery was, Lucien is also speaking the truth. Amara has long secured her own place in his heart, whether she liked it or not.
perhaps it had just been because they got off the wrong foot, but she just never tolerated the games he played. everybody swooned and awed at the dauphin but she saw past that and could see his true nature. no charmer could ever get past Amara as she sighed at his remark. perhaps she was being dramatic, but it seemed that no matter how rude she was, he always found his way back to her. “my sin is any foul language I use because of how irritating you are.” She stated. “”perhaps what you thought was being lost was me trying to see if i saw my ladies anywhere, they seem to have been swept off their feet by God knows who.” she stated, annoyed before she continued to walk. she half- heartedly expected him to follow, though she was never sure with this man. “thanks for your offer, but I think I would just like to enjoy the outside nature. this is the first time out since...you know...”she trailed off, not wanting to state her ultimate embarrassment. she looked at him as he made such a question, and it almost made her feel bad. she couldn’t help a softer sigh than usual, though she caught it before she could give any sort of kindness back. “i doubt you missed me in the ways I wish I was missed, Lucien.” She remarked, raising an eyebrow to him to see what he would say despite being set on her opinion.
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kronsela:
ny looked at adem with a raise of his eyebrows. “you would recognize my name before you recognize my face. i’m the man who will be marrying your sister.” giving adem a quick smile, he picked up one of the swords from the ground, handing it back to the guard. “met my blushing bride to be for the first time last night. lovely girl.” he looks back at adem. “she’s taller than you. our children will grow like trees.”
adem’s unusual seriousness left his expression as he seemed to lighten up for the mans at the mention of the arrangement he had made. so this was the infamous bastard son, yet he couldn’t help but see past that. after all, no matter what occurs, everyone is a man before God’s eye. he had long decided to judge people as such, thanks to some positive influences in his life. “Nymandus Von Ruhen, then? your painting does you no justice.” He spoke, the casualness easy for him. it was welcoming family. he held his hand out a shake. brief pleasantries he enjoyed. adem couldn’t help the boisterous laughter that left his lips at the remark he had made of catharina being taller than him. “and you’re funny. i’m pleased you thought she was lovely. my apologies the formal introductions didn’t take place. I had been participating in a joisting match and lost track of time.” he remarked, before gesturing for the guard. “do you spare?”
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Amara couldn’t help but think of that one guard she met on the rooftop, yet she always attempted to dismiss it. it was an impossible fantasy, something she should have never indulged in to begin with. though, at the moment, that memory was on of the very few things that prevented her from feeling the world had ended for her. the chaos that ensued was more than just embarrassing, it was preventable. only for so much to occur afterwards made things worst. she completely and utterly blamed herself, and knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from her siblings. she just hoped this didn’t mean she would have a less favorable match when the time came.
she just wanted to hide for now. to escape from her royal duties and forget anything happened. its why she was in her sitting room as she read a book, making a point to tell her guards to make themselves scarce so that nobody suspected she was in this sitting room. yet, somebody had found her and she wasn’t was at a loss for words. her nerves got the best of her usually horrible reaction to such a joke and instead she flashed a contempt smile to him before speaking. “i doubt anybody would want me as a dance partner after that fiasco. perhaps save yourself before i make a fool out of you too.” she stated, her hand covering her book as she made her self-deprecating comment.
starter for @gcdlyfury
though he and giuliana escaped last night in the middle of all the chaos, giovanni saw what happened before all of it- rather, he saw the cause of who started it. though he had just met amara, he could not help but feel a little worried about how hard she was taking all this. giovanni was used to embarrassing himself; at least, he was as a kid. not much bothered him anymore but he knew that wasn’t the case for everyone. while doing his rounds, he came across amara in one of the various sitting rooms. he approached her and tilted his head. “i suppose now is not the right time to ask for a dance?” it was an attempt at joke. a horrible one, really, but that was the best gio could do.
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ofdevotiions:
when he got the news about the king’s death, theh first person he thought of was his sister. he wondered if she killed him and just forgot to inform giovanni. no…she wouldn’t keep something like that from him. the only way to remedy this was to talk to her. the guard knocked on her door, of course. it wasn’t polite to just barge into a woman’s room, even if that woman was his blood. after a moment, he slipped quietly into the room, blue eyes surveying the space. he walked around, picking up small trinkets and setting them back in their place. “that was some party, no?”
when he entered, her mood listened ever so slightly but she couldn’t help but still feel uneasy about everything going on. there wasn’t a lot of people who knew her true emotions, but she was never scared to show Giovanni. To see her this concerned, so deep in thought, it was rare. it took her a moment to face him as he entered the room and she couldn’t help the slight smile that rose in her lips at his comment but it didn’t last. “that party was a distraction.” she commented, her arms crossed across her body. “though, granted, it was funny to see that French Noble make a complete fool of himself. I can’t see what that Ethiopian princess saw in that man, he was obviously drunk the minute he took her hand.” she remarked, eyebrows raising slightly to look at her brother. rather it was her true opinion or not, it didn’t matter. she just wanted to see his reaction.
#( &&. interactions for ilaria )#wow not ilaria borderline insulting one of my own characters smh smh
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cristo-drystane:
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“Hmm, I suppose that makes sense,” He says. He agrees for the most part, but Cristo had a habit of never fully agreeing with other people out loud. There really was no sensible reason to it other than that he was a little shit and has been since he was running around the streets of Moscow as a little orphan boy.
“Oh I’m sure the ladies in court have all the time in the world to gossip,” He says. It’s not like they did anything else. They either gossiped or were the ones causing the gossip. He mimics the other and raises his eyebrow, smirking as he starts to circle her. “Let’s see,” he says, pretending to observe her. Talaya quickly rises and circles her as well, from the opposite side. It was how they took down their enemies - one would distract and the other would strike, always on opposite ends to keep them guessing. He didn’t see the woman in front of him as his enemy, though. For now. “I suppose if you were a singer you’d be humming absentmindedly before I found you, singers typically never shut up.” He stops when he’s directly in front of her. “But I’ve no doubt what a face like yours would do to some of the young lords running around these halls. How about a hint?”
“you suppose?” she questioned, before humming her understanding softly and nodded her head. it wasn’t as satisfying than being told she was right but she didn’t mind going along with such words. one day, she noted, she will be correct.
“yes they do, its unbelievable. its as if their job is to know everything. which then can demonstrate how well a woman knows their job. either they didn’t their research and begin to spread false rumors oooor she has done her job too well and holds too many secrets she isn’t meant to know. its rather fascinating trying to spot who is the master of all secrets.” she stated, the obvious thrill in her voice at the idea. little did he knew that she loved secrets, adored them even. she craved them as much as she craved her freedom. it was none of his business though.
as he began to circle, ilaria couldn’t help but let her lips fall open ever slightly as her faze would follow his around her. she even noticed Talaya doing it. it was a rather good intimidation tactic, but it was having quite the opposite effect on her. she let her eyes fall down to the ground for a second as she had to remember to keep herself in check. “they’re relentless.” she remarked, her gaze looking back up at him, the slight flutter of her eyelashes ever exposing the bit of her coquettish nature. “Hm,” she hummed at the word ‘hint’. she thought about it for a second before responding. “despite my devilishly good looks, I’m far removed from the front lines of political matters. I live to serve, for now.” she remarked, the last part being an accidental slip up on her behalf. she cursed herself within, but it was a simple mistake she could easily fix.
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Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente
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“The relief of giving in to destruction.”
— Franz Kafka, from a diary entry featured in Diaries, 1910 -1923 (via violentwavesofemotion)
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@viirtus
Ilaria had found out so little of the murder of the Italian King, it felt almost demeaning to her entire profession to know so little of this instance. This entire event made her think, question, wonder. It wasn’t good for her mind to do such thought processes, one couldn’t fathom the venom that would seep from her lips if she began to state them all out loud. In the meantime, she had made sure to let her brother know of her plan to investigate the mazes while they were still up and intact. Little did she know how hard her heart would beat to be in front of such an intense structure.
Ilaria had studied the blueprints of the maze left and right, she memorized every possible exit and every excuse she needed to justify her presence being there, the for the first time, she felt fearful. She hadn’t felt something like that since childhood and it was almost paralyzing. Yet she pressed onward, determing to put her emotions to the side for her work. As she navigating through the maze, she began to cry on command and dabbed the tears away with a handkerchief. she had to be sure to act and appear to as upset and she would need to be.
As she was turning the corner right to where she knew the king had perished, she found herself bumping into someone, her arms shooting up in pure instinct. she let out a cry, almost sure she would fall. Who else could possible be visiting the death place of her king? the wheels began to spin as she tried to regain herself, putting a hand out to the hedge to keep herself on her feet, her other hand over her heart with her handkerchief looking every bit of a mourning woman.
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daiyu wasn’t one of the ladies who tended to do little arts and crafts. of course, she was taught how to once. however, she was more into her literature and her board games than anything. Yet, the woman had caught her attention as her focus towards her fabric was so intense. It drew daiyu in, and she couldn’t help but walk up to her to get a glimpse at what she was doing. “i’m sorry, my apologies. you’re oozing such passion into your creation, i had to see what it was that you were creating.” She stated, gesturing to the pillow. “what’s it for?”
@1642hqs-starters
bessie had found herself a seat away from much of the ruckus and crowds; for while she enjoyed the conversation and rush of court, the countess many another duty to take care of. her accounting books were set to the side, and instead their fingers were working away at the pillow on her lap, spinning the threads with the help of bobbins to create a chain for lace to later trim a cap made for the queen.
at movement across the room, bessie looked up, capturing the eyes of another. “oh, hello.” she set aside their work, instead standing to curtsy to the other person. “may i be of any assistance?”
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La Roche was a small man, unassuming and rather plain looking despite his name and its meaning. There was nothing rock like about that man but it was his name none the less. Perhaps that was what made him an effective spy master here in the french court and why when he stepped into a room quietly filled with opulent and lavish surroundings few if any paid attention to him. When he spoke though in a thick french accent the voice was not mousey or projecting meekness. It was a voice that commanded respect even here. Gesturing to the seat before him he motions for your character to sit as he begins his line of questioning. Even if well acquainted to members of his own court he asks the same. Whether you take the seat is your choice but the unassuming La Roche begins to ask questions and scribble down the answers not once looking up from their notations..
Adem had nothing to hide, yet he knew that his own issues plagued his mind when he was summoned for questioning. He couldn’t hold back the desire to miss the interrogation but he didn’t want to give any suspicion that he had something to do with this whole Italian fiasco. So he went, two of his own personal guards and friends outside of the door. It was for his wife, to make sure another king wasn’t slain in this entire process.
"You have been summoned here this day at the behest of the French court for an interview and we appreciate your cooperation at this time. Can you please state for official records your name, age and court position?"
Adem nodded at the man’s remarks before straightening up in his chair to answer. “My name is Adem Jasen, thirty nine years old, the King of the Netherlands.”
"Prior to the debacle of the dance floor where had you been?"
Adem smiled softly as he recalled the events of the night, his hands instinctively moving as he spoke out of habit. “I was dancing with my wife and we were trying to find my sister’s betrothed. We hadn’t met the fellow in person and we were itching to see who he was. At least, I was.” He remarked, the smile slightly when he remembered the scenario they were in.
"Had you noticed anything during that ordeal that seemed personally amiss to you other than the obvious?"
Adem pursed his lips slightly before shaking his head. “I can’t say I noticed anything. Though, it did seem rather odd the fireworks were placed inside the dance floor. Don’t you think?” He asked, eyebrows slightly raised at him. “Not to insinuate anything but whoever was cleaning up after the fair should have had a better plan then allow such dangerous items where over a hundred people were. dances can get rather messy.”
"Where were you when the body of the Italian king was discovered and where there witnesses to where you were at the time?"
Adem thought about where he was for a second, but the smile that came onto his face and the memories were a bit of an indicator that the body had rather spoiled his mood. Adem put his hand up instinctively as he rubbed his chin. “You must forgive me sir. I was with my wife that night, we had to tend to ourselves. My attire was in tethers because of the fireworks. As well as When I threw my wife to the ground for cover, i had made her drop her wine on her gown.” He stated, attempting not to reveal the mischievousness he tried to do with Johanna before they were rudely interrupted.
"Who or what do you personally suspect could have contributed to the unfortunate demise of the Italian king?"
Adem cleared his throat as he tried to move on from the previous question, straightening himself up once more. He stayed quiet for a second before shrugging. “I would have no idea, quite frankly. I’ve heard Italy was doing well, perhaps someone was jealous? or perhaps they weren’t as great as they portrayed? I couldn’t say. I don’t pay attention to such politics unless I’m marrying my sisters off to them.”
"How did you personally feel about Italy's position in the last five years to six years?"
Adem was vividly aware that he should have had more of a political view in all of this yet he had no care of the Italians. “I admire the agriculture and art they have supplied the world, the sort of ancient culture that still influences them to this day. They seem to be thriving and I can only hope I can take some tips from them to make sure My country succeeds underneath such role models.”
"What reasons would you have to harm the king, if any?"
Adem almost wanted to laugh at the question but he didn’t. Instead, he held it in. He looked at the sir for a second before answering. “I don’t harm people unless they harm my family. As far as Im aware, everyone has been safe and sound and I have no intention of raising any concerns to such a standard as murder. Not to be that man, but I dont need to result to such means to get matters settled.”
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La Roche was a small man, unassuming and rather plain looking despite his name and its meaning. There was nothing rock like about that man but it was his name none the less. Perhaps that was what made him an effective spy master here in the french court and why when he stepped into a room quietly filled with opulent and lavish surroundings few if any paid attention to him. When he spoke though in a thick french accent the voice was not mousey or projecting meekness. It was a voice that commanded respect even here. Gesturing to the seat before him he motions for your character to sit as he begins his line of questioning. Even if well acquainted to members of his own court he asks the same. Whether you take the seat is your choice but the unassuming La Roche begins to ask questions and scribble down the answers not once looking up from their notations..
Amara didn’t want to leave her room. She couldn’t dare to face anybody after the debacle. Of course, nobody would remember it after just a bit of time but she felt it was almost hard to forget. The chaos that ensued, the horrible tragedy afterwards. One could say she was at fault for it. The distraction she placed on mostly everybody prevented anybody to notice anything outside, including the screams or struggle of the italian king’s death. She reluctantly sat down in the interrogation chair, trying to become as small as possible in it. She just wanted to disappear.
"You have been summoned here this day at the behest of the French court for an interview and we appreciate your cooperation at this time. Can you please state for official records your name, age and court position?"
Amara’s usual patience level was non-exist, yet she knew she couldn’t get upset over such a simple question so she cleared her throat before she spoke. “Amara Tesafave, I’m twenty eight and I’m the Le'elt of Ethiopia, or in english terms, I would be reffered to as a princesss.” She remarked, as her usual announcement was that of her Ethiopian title rather than the english translation.
"Prior to the debacle of the dance floor where had you been?"
"I had been preparing my sister for the dance, and I got ready myself with my ladies in waiting. My sister can vouch for me as well as my ladies in waiting.” She remarked, remembering how exciting they were all to join in. It was almost a shame, as she had begun to hear rumors of a supposed betrothal. She couldn’t imagine it was for her but it terrified her nonetheless.
"Had you noticed anything during that ordeal that seemed personally amiss to you other than the obvious?"
Amara glanced at the man with an eyebrow raised, as if he had to be kidding. “I couldn’t say, I was one of the people to cause the whole ordeal at the dance floor. One could say I was busy trying to watch people’s feet.” The venom was far too obvious in her voice, the sarcasm dripping with every word.
"Where were you when the body of the Italian king was discovered and where there witnesses to where you were at the time?"
Amara could recall thanking that dear Austrian musician before finding herself running away from the dance floor and hiding herself away in her room to clean up and cry out of embarrassment. The news hadn’t been delivered to her until later but she could remember when she heard her guards whispering as the italians cried. “I was in my room, embarrassed and crying my eyes out. I had ruined my favorite dress, all my effort to assimilate into french culture had failed and i ended up injuring many and somehow provided the cover for a murder of a king.”
"Who or what do you personally suspect could have contributed to the unfortunate demise of the Italian king?"
Amara shrugged at the man’s question before answering. “Quite frankly, im not sure. I just know I feel horrible for if I hadn’t distracted everybody on the dance floor, perhaps somebody could have seen something or heard something. Instead, I had to pair up with that bauffon and end up here.”
"How did you personally feel about Italy's position in the last five years to six years?"
“i live a sea away from them, and my country has no interest in European politics. So I would say I feel indifferent. After all, I have my own issues to deal with.” She remarked, as if the interviewer was ridiculous for asking her such a question.
"What reasons would you have to harm the king, if any?"
Amara had almost enough of this stupid interview when he asked the final question. The groan that left her lips was a clear sign of her being over this investigation. “I appreciate the effort you are presenting for this case, sir. However, you must understand something. I have no interest in harming anyone, especially somebody that proves to be nothing but a distant thought in a book deep within the libraries of my home. So take this as my answer to your question.” She responded before she straightened up and stood to leave.
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La Roche was a small man, unassuming and rather plain looking despite his name and its meaning. There was nothing rock like about that man but it was his name none the less. Perhaps that was what made him an effective spy master here in the french court and why when he stepped into a room quietly filled with opulent and lavish surroundings few if any paid attention to him. When he spoke though in a thick french accent the voice was not mousey or projecting meekness. It was a voice that commanded respect even here. Gesturing to the seat before him he motions for your character to sit as he begins his line of questioning. Even if well acquainted to members of his own court he asks the same. Whether you take the seat is your choice but the unassuming La Roche begins to ask questions and scribble down the answers not once looking up from their notations..
Ilaria had sat quietly as she adorned herself in traditional mourning attire. Black looked rather wonderful on her, a stark contrast against her fair complex and soft red hair. she had a slightly damp tissue within her hand, as she took in a deep breath. she knew exactly how to behave, so she remained quiet until spoken to. despite his rather unimpressive appearance, she knew never to question such a sight. after all, she knew all to well how the plain can get away with so much.
"You have been summoned here this day at the behest of the French court for an interview and we appreciate your cooperation at this time. Can you please state for official records your name, age and court position?"
“Ilaria De Luca, Handmaiden to the Orsini Family. I’m currently twenty three years old.” Only direct answers, thats all she could afford. to be unassuming, unbiased. At least, for now. She sniffled slightly out of habit, as she had forced herself to cry a storm before being summoned. the effects of her tears and ‘sadness’ still evident, which is exactly what she wanted.
"Prior to the debacle of the dance floor where had you been?"
“I had to be sure to have the rooms of the family I serve in order. ensuring all baths were prepared for them. They had gotten so done up for the festivities, I knew if I wasn’t prepared for them to wind down for the end of the night, I would feel awful.” She remarked.
"Had you noticed anything during that ordeal that seemed personally amiss to you other than the obvious?"
Ilaria took a moment as she recalled that night, amidst all the panic and choas and the injured when she went to join her brother and her dear Giulie. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice slightly shaky as she began to appear emotional. “Only that my King wasn’t there.” She said quietly, looking down at her tissue as her fingers tried to find the driest part of it.
"Where were you when the body of the Italian king was discovered and where there witnesses to where you were at the time?"
Ilaria’s lips trembled when she heard the word ‘body’. She couldn’t help the shaky breath she took as she tried to blink away the tears forming. “I should have gone to find him, sir. Instead, i had been tending those wounded on the dance floor as the family I served were taken away to clean up. In specific had that prince fall on my feet so I felt bad and tended to the blood I saw.” She remarked, her teeth slightly gritted. She was upset. It was a mixture of regret and anger. “God, I should have made sure the King wasn’t alone. i can’t believe his guards had no idea what was happening.” She retorted.
"Who or what do you personally suspect could have contributed to the unfortunate demise of the Italian king?"
Ilaria looked up from her tissue. The fact that she was upset already didn’t help that fact that she felt almost disgusted by his remark. “Quite frankly, I believe we should have started with his guards. How dare they leave him alone?” She began, though the logic was somewhat sound. “Second, the fact that they allowed the King to go into the maze so late is tres bizarre, no?” She asked, with the little bit of french she knew. “I just-” She paused, and looking at the man. He seemed so uninterested, and she decided to drop all the complaints she had within her. “I believe it was definitely something planned out, and Im afraid I can’t even trust my own fellow ladies and sir that are staffed. we love our King, but these foreign lands have made some people radical.” She expressed, her voice getting quieter. “this person must have been powerful, I couldn’t imagine anyone else who is able to blind us so.” she remarked.
"How did you personally feel about Italy's position in the last five years to six years?"
“I truly believed we were doing so well. Even with the plague, we had been thriving under it all. I joined right before the plague hit and I could only tell how well we are treated, how endeared the family is by us. I never went one day where I resented them” the lies falling from her lips seemed far too natural. “Im only afraid of what will happen to the family. The Orsini’s can be hard to understand but they are wonderful people. The functioned so well together, as if their world wasn’t so chaotic. I admire them for it. I just hope they dont break with this loss.” She stated, a couple of tears forming and her using her tissue to wipe them away.
"What reasons would you have to harm the king, if any?"
Ilaria looked at the sir, as her eyes held the utmost disgust for the man. yet, the sweetness in her voice almost made one forget what her eyes pierced within a man’s body. “i dont have any reason to harm my King, sir. the only thing I would supposed that made me upset was how little he took care of himself. you know, mentally. however, that isn’t enough to kill a man over.” She remarked, looking back at the man’s notebooks and sighing for a second. “that man has been sweet to me when I didn’t deserve it, i can only hope he has the most blessed afterlife.”
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@ofdevotiions
Ilaria had always trusted her brother to do his part in this whole arrangement they had with the Queen. Yet, with this latest assassination, she knew somebody’s head was bound to roll and she had to know if it was going to be theirs or someone elses. So after everyone had fallen asleep, she made sure to let Giuliana know that she wont be able to teach her anything and let Giovanni know where her room was. She looked outside the little window in her room, not really admiring the sights outside but getting lost in her thoughts.
She heard a knock on her door and she looked up slightly but didnt speak, unwilling to be interrupted unless it was her brother. He knew he could come in, yet sometimes he was too polite for his own good.
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Amara had been admiring the clouds above as she followed her lady’s in waiting pursuit of the many noble men present here. The annoyance was already evident in her face, only to add the fact that Amara wasn’t paying attention and lost her lady. Amara sighed and explored the grandiose scenery presented by the French, since she very much enjoyed the rooftop more than she liked ground level. She thought perhaps she was going to be left in peace at last. A time for herself.
Of course, God had a funny sense of humor. She hadnt heard Lucien’s voice in such a long time yet she almost wanted to instantly slap his face. He was always so bizarre, so disgusting. It was obvious by her contempt expression that she has not changed her disposition of him and his favor towards her. “I fear the sins on your hands will only transfer to me and then I’ll have to go get a blessing. I would rather not.” She stated, her eyebrows raised at him in annoyance. “and there is a difference between being lost and being curious.”
closed starter for: @gcdlyfury / amara tesfave location: the gardens, palace of fontainebleau, france
the dauphin surprisingly had some free time to himself today, and in order to escape the confines of the palace — which halls start to feel more and more suffocating with the amount of people it has taken under its roof, lucien decided a ride into the woods would have been a great way to unwind. for two hours, lucien was free, embracing the nature surrounding him, just basking in the silence and comfort it gave him. when the sun was high up in the sky, he finally returns back to palace grounds, when he caught sight of someone within calling distance from where his horse decided to halt. even with her back on him, lucien recognized her, judging by her posture and her figure — there was no doubt in his mind that this was amara.
dismounting from his horse, the dauphin finally makes his presence to the other known as he says, “ you seem a little lost, chère, ” the term of endearment rolling off his tongue with ease as he handed the horse’s bridle to a stable boy who had just come rushing to assist him. he takes a leather glove off as he made his way to amara, a mischievous smile already shaping his lips when he stops in front of her just when she was at an arm’s length. “ you need only to take my hand if you needed guidance — ” he was teasing, and as he offered his newly bared hand to her, he cannot help but let the smile widen to a grin as he anticipated her response, which he has dearly missed.
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