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reignends · 1 year

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" splendid indeed, " the accent that lulls is one of distant lands, the part of home that foreign courts could not carve out of her as she once so pleased. this woman, all dressed in her mid-day yellow with her laced parasol marbling strays of sunlight happens upon the promenade for opposite reasons. annette has no need to be seen, for she had already had her share of dalliances when she had first come of age. much rather, she had happened upon the racecourse to see for herself --- displeasingly without the company of her husband, much less an escort. " though i fear you mistake me sir -- " there is a jovial wane of contempt, slight cant of head against the blaze of sun to face the man of whose acquaintance she had not yet come to meet. gaze lingers as if to verify man with myth, somehow the assurance that this was the very man her husband had been conspiring into a match kept her steady. she wouldn't wish marriage upon a dog, lest she knew it's nature; especially if he were to be the potential match of her sister in-law. dim gaze shifts, looking out amongst the racing circuit; something bridling beneath the remarkable sanguine of her demeanor. " 'tis my husband who luck has shone her favor upon. " it was the way of the world: the man is endowed luck merely because he was a man, and a woman had to go out and craft it for herself. if she could not be fortunate, annette would be canny. " i merely advise his wagers & i haven't lost a penny yet. " brow piques on her forehead, offering the man her own preference of challenge. " lest you might stand to contest that? "

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 — 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 location : the ascot racecourse

there was an undeniable rush of exhilaration whenever william rode. horses held a special place in his heart, and it was evident that his father shared the same passion. at the age of twelve, his father presented him with a horse as a gift, and he named the chocolate-colored stallion camelot, inspired by the legendary castle of king arthur, whom william had admired as a child. initially, he considered naming the horse arthur, but it felt strange to have his maternal grandfather sharing the same name with his stead. if only he were allowed to participate in races like the one taking place now, he would have eagerly embraced the opportunity. sadly, his position and health condition prevented him from doing so. maybe in another life, things would be different. however, he could still engage in placing bets. gambling had never appealed to him, but on this occasion, he decided to indulge himself. after all, it was a fundamental aspect of the event. it was midday, during the third race of the day, and william had just made his wagers for this particular race. having won the previous race, he felt lucky and quite optimistic for this one. as the prince of wales made his way back to the stands, he chose not to return to his seat immediately. "it's a splendid day for racing, wouldn't you agree?" he turned to the person closest to him. "have you placed your bets yet? i've been informed that artax is the horse to put your money on."

#𝐀. ⠀ ⠀ 〳 ⠀ ⠀ threads #ft. william #def forgot i had this in my drafts #making a new contest out of betting is so on brand for her

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reignends · 1 year

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presenting: annette, grand duchess of macklenberg-strelitz. may i hate & hurt with all my love. may i fury. may i burn. may i burn. may you see it.

full name maisha annette charlize ( formerly titled princess of monaco ) moniker(s) nettie, mae. age thirty-five. place of birth zürich, switzerland. gender / pronouns cis woman, she/her. orientation bisexual, with a female lean. fc gugu mbatha-raw.

paralells kristina ( the girl king ) / lady sarah ( the favourite ) / jo march ( little women ) / georgiana ( the duchess )

TIMELINE

a girl in place of a promised son, what is it to be damned since the very start? you are born as maisha: moon child & as desirable as such. a darling babe with empire whispered as your last name. so, as the first daughter of quaint european dominion, you reside on the edge of infinity. cradling both everything & nothing at all with the promise of opportunity on either side. as your parents had it, this playground kingdom was never truly yours to rule; for you were merely their sweet disciple. to be worshiped darling girl, one must first conquer.

you learn swiftly that if you are to inherit what you are owed, you must carve out the past of ascension with your teeth. so you bare your sharp ivories and bite down, snagging down on anything & anyone within reach if it meant feeding your insatiability.

when your brother arrives you immediately lapse from your succession to the thrown. the children of the crown, so akin in likeness that one would be mistaken to think that the pair were twins when they were only cut from the same cloth: both unravelling at the seams. you’re both rotten & but you flay yourselves for very different reasons. while he yearned for the appeasment of the court, you wager to be found so unsightly that your father could no longer deny you of what you are: a true progeny of the crown.

some are quick to brand your family warmongers; if only they knew just how much you all liked that title. or perhaps how much your father liked it. war is your birthright, of that you are certain and it shall become the very thing you wager upon your own kin when you were still but a girl. a heavy rush comes from knowing that you are near untouchable, arrogance nurtured from a young age. you are still a feather-weight, saccherine thing but this mock sugariness is something that ensnares and coaxes; you may be virtuous at your root but even that cannot rid you of that glint of mischief that suits you so. even so, you’re not all corrosion.

you were still young when your mind had finally lapsed and inverted itself. all the more reason to be secluded from that thing your father called love: all those attempts to temper you and you were still wrong. as the glimmering shell of your family, you are hollow enough to float & empty enough to harbor everything else. even enraptured in all the trappings of the european court, a fox in a silk bow is still a fox. and when your brother dies in battle, your white flag is raised. wearing black reminds you of how much color had drained from your life. the big cold house you lived in as a child had lost its vibrant color, saccharine pink bedroom walls were long painted over, even the judgmental family portraits lining the stairwell lost their vigor.

before your brother is cold in the ground, you are swiftly endowed upon a foreign court; unsure of whether it was a claim of kindred love or if those who bore you were merely that eager to rid themselves of the issue you had proven to be. you’ve revoked your title as princess, and rumors begin to stir. nonetheless, you are crafted anew fore you set foot on the grassroot belonging to your husband. baring a certain personage akin to that of which you had always yearned for, you become increasingly sumptuous; a true gem whose gleam only flickers morsels of your true nature.

HEADCANONS

very girlson coded. always beckoning her father’s approval, even seas away. has mostly outgrown her capacity for true wretchedness but hasn’t been completely wrung out of her mischief. quick to lean into hearsay if it favors her own personal endeavors.

has had many daliances with women, which was likely part of the reason of her being wed so suddenly after her brother passed. it was much less about the security of title than it was setting her onto the straight and narrow; or rather, leaving the task to someone else.

is not all bad!! she has the capacity for kindness & has been know to display it in intimate relationships / it’s much more of an armour worn in protection of self rather than true spirit these days. maybe the foreign court has softened her.

though there are murmurs of upset within her own marriage, annette is not yet with child on account of not wanting to end up like her mother: complacent and unshowing of the love she was hardly taught. if she must have a girl annette hopes she’ll be a fool.

cluster of brittle bird bones in chainmail. strong willed but also feeble and honestly dangling on a thread keeping her from being entirely undone. would like to be more than what her father made her but does she really?? idk

#𝐀. ⠀ ⠀ 〳 ⠀ ⠀ about #seasonsintro #if this is bad blame the sleep deprivation

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