#Royal Women of Austria

[marianadecarlos]

What is Aguila Roja? Is it a show or a movie? Because in your posts you ranted about Aguila Roja's portrayal of Mariana.

Is there TV shows and Movies about her aside from that? I feel like Habsburgs in 17th century was often ignore by media because I don't see shows about them. There is Versailles series though if your interested.

"Águila Roja" is a Spanish adventure television series set in 17th-century Spain. Produced by Globomedia for Televisión Española, it aired on La 1 from 2009 to 2016 and has earned its status as one of the channel's most successful shows, with broadcasting rights sold in multiple countries. I must express my strong dissatisfaction with the portrayal of Mariana, as it is historically inaccurate and misleading. While I recognize that the show is a work of historical fiction, it is essential to accurately depict real-life individuals, especially lesser-known historical figures. The portrayal of Mariana as vain, selfish, and promiscuous—engaging in an affair with the fictional character Cardinal Mendoza. This plotline creates a distortion of her character. In reality, Mariana was a devoted wife, loving mother, intelligent, strong, loyal, dutiful, strict, tactile, and pious. These traits are glaringly absent from her depiction in the series. Although some scenes show her as a caring mother and wife, particularly when she comforts Felipe, these moments are far too few and are overshadowed by their frequent conflicts. Shows like this must uphold historical integrity, as misrepresentation can lead to widespread misconceptions.

Beware my friend as the worst is yet to come, I stumbled upon this video on YouTube. To those who are curious to watch this scene, it features graphic content.

There is more than one scene but I refuse to post the links because as you can see this one is already terrible. The other scenes just featured her getting kidnapped, tortured, tying her to a tree, and lifting her up in the air.

I was mortified upon witnessing it! The need to showcase the character getting tortured and almost burnt at the stake! I do not understand the reason or context of this scene at all! This scene is not only inaccurate and degrading, but It is also an insult to her name, real-life experiences, and legacy.

Apart from her portrayal, her costumes were as expected inaccurate, The outfits that Lucía Eliana Sánchez wore in the series, in my opinion, did not fit the way of dressing at the time. Both the exaggerated neckline and the shapes of the silhouette did not correspond to the attire worn at that time, and even more so, by such a leading figure.

In Spain, women did wear a neckline, as we can see in some paintings, but a plunging neckline would not have been common for the queen herself. The feminine style of the dress at the time was the so-called guardainfante, a huge frame in the shape of an inverted basket on which the basquiña (skirt) was placed. The bodice or sayo was tight, between the fabric and the lining there was a rubberized cardboard that literally crushed the chest. According to the historian Maribel Bandrés: “… it was so hard and flat that the body lost its natural shape. To give it even more rigidity, it had two whalebones coming down to a point in front: the busc .” The neckline was covered with a striking collar called a valona cariñana with a beautiful decoration of pleats called abanillos. This type of collar was very flattering and a large brooch was placed in its center.

Diego Velázquez. Mariana of Austria. Detail of head. Circa 1652. Prado Museum. Madrid.

Eliana Sánchez is characterized as Mariana of Austria.

In this particular scene, I noticed Mariana's dress. I've seen that dress before in other Spanish shows and on Pinterest, which led me to believe they recycled this costume. While I appreciate when costumes are reused in different shows, in this case, the setting is in the year 1660, as they discuss Maria Theresa's upcoming marriage and mention that Margarita and Prospero are present. They look completely different from their historical counterparts.

Yes, apart from Aguila Roja, She was featured briefly in documentaries such as Memoria de Espana and Habsburgs heimliche Herrscherinnen- Auf fremden Thronen

I agree with you this century is often ignored by the media or the ones that usually don't get that much attention even though their stories are good and interesting. My favorite portrayal of her, Is the Memoria de Espana's Mariana, The costumes and mannerisms are perfect.

[la-belle-histoire]

Marie Antoinette and her Children, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun. 1787.

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

Franz Schrotzberg (Austrian, 1811-1889) Gräfin Mako, ca.1878 Belvedere palace, Vienna

[royalty-nobility]

Anne of Austria with Queen Marie Thérèse

Artist: Simon Renard de Saint-André (French, 1614–1677)

Genre: Portrait

Date: 1664

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Museum of the History of France, Palace of Versailles, Paris, France

Depicted People:

Anne of Austria 

Maria Theresa of Spain

[foreverinthepagesofhistory]

collab with the queen @abigaaal ✨

[jacesvelaryons]

The Reluctant Empress (Jacaerys Velaryon x Female!Reader)

Act II. Burgeoning

(19th Century Imperial Austria AU)

summary: crown prince jacaerys gets to know his prospect betrothed and future bride whom he has been arranged with to marry, your sister helaena targaryen, but true to your wild spirit, you cannot help but wonder what awaits in the world behind gilded castles and royal splendour.

word count: 2.4k words

a/n: i'm so sorry this took an entire year before an update but it is finally here! i apologize as I had some health things to settle, and with brain fog and got more distracted by other fandoms but here we go! once again, please comment and share what you liked, what you'd want more for me and request and let me know as my inbox is always open <3 let me know if you want to be on the taglist or not getting tags!

series masterlist

previously: prologue | act i

masterlist

requests OPEN

“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Seated between her mother and sister, Y/N eyes roamed around the dining hall in the palace that hosted the royal family and her covey. Changed into an emerald green gown, wearing the necklace and earrings her father gave her on the last name day before his passing, she paid no mind to the significance of the occasion and was just glad to be there, surrounded in the splendor of the castle walls.

She knew that it was Helaena’s time to shine, and she would not want to rob her of her light, of the opportunity that would change their fortunes and not have Alicent scrabbling and worrying over the last penny of their expenses.

Twirling her fork on the pesto noodles in front of her, Y/N remained silent and just patiently listened to all the conversation around her, between her mother and her childhood friend the Queen, who inquired about Helaena’s well being, her lifestyle and assessing on how she would adjust becoming the next consort upon wedding Jacaerys.

Dazed out in a world of her own, Y/N did not hear Jacaerys reverting his attention to her aptly, until her sister nudged her ankle with her shoe, repeating her name on his tongue like it was the sweetest honey, curiosity and amusement on his features.

“Lady Y/N, what do you do in your free time, my lady?”

Stammering like a cat bit her tongue, she cleared her throat as she gathered herself and make her look and sound presentable.

“I ride horses, my prince. I hunt and I have picked up the sword a few times.” Lady Y/N bluntly replied, already feeling the burning glare of your embarrassed mother. Queen Rhaenyra only watches in amusement, how her confidante could have a daughter who was nothing like her mother.

Jacaerys was intrigued, leaning forward to hear Y/N better and scooch closer over to Her. A curious smile on his handsome, chiseled face, his curly brown hair starting to grow out and neatly groomed behind his ears.

Plates and utensils remained untouched as Y/N and Jacaerys were engrossed in an engaging, animated conversation, passionate replies to uncontrollable laughter.

The older women present at the table watched with trepidation, Lady Alicent’s habits of digging into her fingernails returned while the silver-haired queen’s expression turned unreadable.

Helaena swallowed her wounded pride of being ignored and not found as an interesting companion, playing with her knife and fork, digging at the roast beef the same way her young daughter would.

As the servants gather the finished main course meals and replace them with fresh fruit and lemon cakes for dessert, Rhaenyra swiftly suggests for the elder Targaryen sister to read out some of the poetry her mother praised earlier.

“You must share with us your talent in verse and poetry, Lady Helaena.”

Relieved, the indigo hued girl stood up at the end of the table, grabbing her little booklet hidden in the pockets of her skirt. Flipping through its parchment pages, she settles to a recent entry close to the end of the worn out leather bound book, covered with an embroidered beetle.

To want is the most natural thing Inherent in the blood through our veins The very primal urge of our being Yet we will always want, and want With no end like a black hole What better to want what is not ours? To covet what the other possesses To take away what is given as easily as it was owned?

Her raspy voice echoed through the halls mellifluously in perfectly rehearsed High Valyrian. Yet you could not help a guilty perception weighing on you, blossoming at the pit of your stomach and you could not shake it off. You were doing nothing wrong, you told yourself, wanting to believe in it but it felt wrong.

Y/N’s fears arose to the surface when she could feel a burning stare on her face intensely, as if memorizing her very form and that she would disappear into nothing anytime. You were listening as intently as you could, yet when you turned, Jacaerys did not pay mind to a single word Helaena said as his focus was fixated on you.

No, no, no. Nothing was going as planned. Everything was going wrong. She praises whatever gods intervened when the heir’s brother Prince Lucerys gracefully diverted the topic into the new cuisines created by the cooks of the Keep with the freshest catches of seafood from Driftmark.

…

“Y/N, what do you think you were doing out there?! Do you think I do not notice your need to always be the centre of attention?” The shrill shrieking of her mother’s voice pierced through her ear drums, yet Y/N was unsurprised and used to such altercations with her mother.

Following the uneasy supper, the three ladies from Dalston Keep returned to their chambers to change midday in preparation for the tour around the gardens with the queen and her heir again after a few hours of respite.

Silently humiliated as they reconvened in private, the illusion of propriety that Lady Alicent carried in front of the queen and prince ripped away, unleashing a ferocity unrestrained like never before.

“I did nothing, mother. I was polite and engaged in a conversation when I was spoken to.”

“You did more than that, you foolish girl! It was about your sister. All of this was about her, not you! Is it so difficult for you to tone down your tendencies for once so we can go according to the arrangement? You put our fortunes up to be desolated. You are as careless as your father!” The sting of her final words hung in the air, salt over the open wound for such a loss. Y/N knew her mother did not love her father, who was older than her own father, and only did her duty to her ailing, troubled, aging husband.

“Mother, that is enough! Do not bring father into this.” Helaena countered exasperatedly, holding onto her sister by her shoulders in defense. “Y/N did nothing wrong. It was..it was me. I should have engaged with the prince more. She did me a favour.”

Y/N gasps in disbelief, astonished her beloved sister would keep taking her side when it was clear she was the wounded party.

“Do not worry about it, mother. I promise I will remain silent from now on. I want this to be Helaena’s night.” Y/N swears sincerely, wanting to defend Helaena and stay away from any trouble from now on.

Alicent does not fully believe her youngest, but nods solemnly as she seeks to move this behind them, returning to her dignified, contemplating gaze with her perfect posture and arms clasped at her waist.

Subsequently, a drove of maids and seamstresses poured in, as Alicent went to her solitary room while the sisters shared a larger room. Each stepped on the raised wooden platform. Taking lush gowns from the closet, they plucked out a rich emerald green gown with fitted sleeves for Helaena.

Meanwhile, a muted seafoam gown was placed on Y/N, as maids scuttered behind her to tighten the corset and laces. Y/N whimpered quietly in discomfort, never finding any gratification in restrictive court dress upheld by centuries of protocol and conduct. It barred her sense of freedom, clipped off her wings from flight and reminded her of a bird in a cage.

Heirloom pieces of emerald silver lined jewelry were given to Helaena, designed to accentuate her beauty and prepare her for her upcoming role and ascent into her duty. As the daylight trickled in through the lace curtains and open windows, she looked like a future queen. A role she was raised to be. Otherworldly and ethereal, while Y/N was grounded to the earth, locks like flames and soil.

Y/N beamed in delight for her older sister, squeezing her hands in reassurance. Helaena reciprocated not as enthusiastically, the nerves still getting to her as her palms were sweating and shaking.

“You have nothing to worry about, Hel. We would not get this far if he did not consider you his bride already.”

“Truly, do you really think so?”

“I do. Without a doubt. You already look the part. It is only the formality left we are waiting for at the ball.”

The elder genuinely chuckled this time in relief, her joy finally meeting her eyes from the comfort and encouragement of her sister.

“Now, all that is left is for you to step into your destiny.”

…

Manicured gardens flourished in the peak of spring, cicadas chirping from the branches of oak trees. Lilies and carnations in hues of apricot and blush, while the outlying paths were paved in blue hydrangeas and violet peonies.

Queen Rhaenyra adorned a lapis lazuli blue gown adorned in gold trimmings and sapphires sewn onto her bodice, matching the stone necklace of the color on her neck and matched her tiara, a reminder of her late mother and former queen.

She pleasantly strolled with a natural confidence, carrying herself with an ease afforded by one who has known privilege and power all her life. Guiding a tour around the Red Keep at the height of its social season, Rhaenyra proudly showed off her domains, and subtly if so, the lands that Helaena would take care of as its hostess after she marries Jacaerys and becomes his queen when the time comes.

Behind her was her eldest Crown Prince Jacaerys, always without a hair or trivet out of place, the picture of perfection that she had groomed since his birth. Dressed more casually in teal with the seahorse emblem on his chest, he honoured his late father Lord Laenor Velaryon, further dispelling any rumours or uncertainty around his paternity.

Although he did not directly resemble his father, he has begun to share features with his paternal grandmother Princess Rhaenys with her Baratheon colouring, and the shape of his nose and chin mirrored her father, who was another Prince of Dragonstone, Prince Aemon the Pale Prince. As rider of Vermax, it was undeniable he was the prince long awaited by the realm, whom millions of hopes and dreams were instilled in.

Standing beside him was Lady Helaena Targaryen, his expected betrothed in everything but formality. Raised with the intention of becoming a princess consort, she was demure, shy, obedient and trusting, exactly what the people of Westeros wanted of their model future queen. Proven in her success of childbearing, onlookers examined her critically on baited breath as they wanted to know who will bear the next generation of Targaryen rulers on the Iron Throne.

Their chaperons trailed behind them, Lady Alicent arm in arm with Lady Y/N, in the same shade of muted green, but her mother had visible symbols of the Faith of the Seven from her necklace, her dark headdress and veil, and on the cuffs on her wrist and belt. Y/N distractedly took in her sights, studying every nook and cranny of the storied palace with eagerness and pursuit.

“This garden still follows the design plan created by Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror herself, yet it was only finished years after her passing in Dorne.”

The queen continued the tour of the keep, while she discreetly eavesdropped on the conversation between her heir and his expected betrothed. The two were engaging pleasantly yet amiably on the surface level, their dialogue not reaching too far. Unaware of a figure parting at the fork and heading another direction.

…

When she is assured she’s clear and no one can find her, Y/N Targaryen smirks victoriously as she heads straight and turns left towards the barn, near the dragonpit, where the horses and grazing animals were located.

On nimble footsteps, through the mud and manure, she makes a run for it as two stableboys turn the corner and miss her, as they forgot to close the stables and she sneaks in.

As the afternoon light trickles in, Y/N looks around curiously, before her attention is caught by this white mare, with its freshly brushed mane and shining horsehair, an anomaly among ebony and hickory. Not wanting to startle the majestic creature, she prances until she’s in front of the horse, hushing and cooing at them as she latches onto the reins.

She holds the mane by her reins, tugging gently as she walks through the barn and the empty backwaters of the ancient castle. It is quiet, with most servants resting for their annual nap and their morning duties finished, so Y/N is able to ride the stallion undiscovered.

The lingering scent of the manure and greenery turns into salty waters of aegean and spruce and the earthy, musty petrichor from the rain on the fir and cedar trees earlier in the morning.

A hint of the cool breeze tingles through her skin, a dress and not proper riding gear in its leathers and furs, but she brushes it off, as King’s Landing in the spring at this time of the year has turned warm and the rain from earlier is long gone.

She rides as far as her companion will allow, until the peripheral view of the Red Keep grows distant from over her shoulder. Y/N stops at the fork of the road before it joins the greater Kingsroad, diverting by the forest with towering trees and fallen logs. Sitting by the foot of a trunk, Y/N pauses for some stillness, her back pressing against the hard trunk as she closes her eyes, before grabbing an apple and vial of water to share with her stallion.

As she and the mare finish the fruit, she stands up to brush off any leaf and dirt on the back of her skirt, about to mount once again before she hears echoes of confrontation growing closer. Y/N has barely begun to leave the forest and return to the artery before she is surrounded by hooded, disheveled men with smug expressions.

Unable to avoid contact, she politely acknowledges them and pulls her cape over her flaming locks before she is stopped from moving in either direction. “Good morrow, sirs.”

She yelps as she’s grabbed by her wrists by the men, struggling to stay on her saddle as the mare turns skittish. “Not so fast, my lady. We need something from ya, and you gotta pay up for our silence. Comes with a price.” The men smirk, distant galloping approaching them.

Y/N yelps as she is knocked off her horse, hitting her head against the rock and all turns into darkness around her. She hears a distant echo of another mount heading her way, furious yelling and clattering swords. Her head throbs, feeling the blood dripping down her nape, as her eyes flutter closed.

[icedsodapop]

😑😑😑

So sick and tired of this Marie Antoinette is actually a misunderstood "uwu" scapegoat narrative. The problem with pushing this narrative (esp by progressive White women like Kat Tenbarge 😑) is that in wanting to redeem her, it comes at the expense of erasing the irl people (many of whom were poor women, Black women etc) that she was complicit in oppressing becos ultimately, she's still a part of an oppressive class.

I'm so done with the whole "actually Marie Antoinette never said let them eat cake!" Yes, that's not true but do any of these pple acknowledge the actual questionable things the woman had done?

Like her complicity in igniting the American slave trade:

Or her "adopting" a Sengalese boy. Senegal in Marie Antoinette's lifetime was actively in the process of being colonised by France and other Western powers

Or her and the other royals hyperconsumption of food and other luxuries while their people were starving:

Or her belief in her and the other monarchs' own divine right to rule:

And she wrote letters to her family in Austria, begging them to send armies to crush peasant rebellions in France. She's a conservative through and through. But sure, she's wholly a misunderstood victim in all this 🤡

And there's the whole "she was sold into French court" narrative, which I never really was comfortable with. Becos slavery was, ya know, a thing:

It's so weird that we are living in an era where we want to eat the rich, yet we are still promoting infantilized narratives of powerful wealthy historical figures.

[scrollonso]

Crazy In Love¹

A Strollonso AU where Fernando succeeds the Spanish throne and makes it his goal as king to make the Prince of France his groom. (3.4k words, dark!nando) [@catboysracing] {l could've made nando a lot worse but I didnt want this to be 10k words 😭 this is a very rushed rough draft so if i make this a series it'll be more drawn out,, or maybe not idek its 02:26 im tired ☠️}

masterlist - next part

Lawrence stepped out of his carriage, holding his hand out to his wife as she carefully placed a foot on the ground, using Lawrence's shoulder for support as she planted both of her shoes on the stone pathway below them.

Lance peeked his head out before exiting, following his fathers lead in holding out his hand to help his sister, Chloe, out as well. His other siblings had already been married off and attending this ball in the Royal Palace of Madrid was his parents' way of finding their youngest children suitors.

"Very good, my boy" The king praised before the four of them began their walk into the palace. They were shown to the ballroom where most of the guests were straight away. The room was all white with gold detailing, artwork littered on the ceiling as spirals of gold framed the dozens of doors surrounding them

"Pardon me" The queen spoke softly, lightly touching her husbands arm before disappearing through the crowd to make her way to Maria Theresa the Archduchess of Austria.

"Excuse me, Father, Can I go speak with Marie?" Chloe spoke seconds later, her father simply nodding at the girls request. She smiled and muttered a thank you before finding her way to her friend, similarly to her mother.

Lance hated these things. Being in a closed space full of hundreds of people. He couldn't help the sour expression on his face as he looked around the bright room, eyes settling on his half brother Esteban. Lance was more than aware of his fathers infadelity and how he had three children with other women. Lance wasn't too fond of the younger two but he'd grown up close with Esteban and his mother Pauline de Mailly.

"Stop scowling, Lance." Lawrence spoke sternly, greeting his youngest son with a slap to his back

"Sorry, Father." Lance spoke, quick to fix his face as he turned to the king "May I be excused, Father? Esteban is on the other side of the ballroom."

"Go on."

Lance couldn't help but smile as he reached Estebans side, being quick to give him a nod

"Votre Altesse" Esteban hummed, trying to stop himself smiling as his little brother rolled his eyes at the title, he never called Lance Your Majesty unless he was teasing the younger boy "Brother, How are you?"

"I'm well, how long have you been here?"

"Oh, not long. Me and my mother arrived no more than an hour ago." Esteban spoke, Lance nodding at the response

"Have you had any of the food?" Lance asked, hoping his brother would say no so they could eat together

"I have not, shall we go together?" Lance smiled once more, nodding as he followed the older man to the long table of food and refreshments.

Fernando was speaking with Duke Maximilian III Joseph of Bavaria regarding the state of their allies during the ongoing war when he first spotted the French prince, his justaucorps a warm brown embroidered with intricate and colourful flowers. The boys hair was long and wavy, he was constantly brushing it out of his face as he spoke with the slightly older man next to him.

The new king was unsure of who the man next to him was but he was well aware of who Lance was. Fernando had met with Lawrence the second Ferdinand had died, as the new king it was his duty to keep up alliances between the dynasties. With Spain and France being the largest two dynasties as of then, having a relationship with Lawrence was very important to him.

As the conversation came to an end he excused himself to find the Frenchman again, pleased at how easy it was. He was standing off to the side as the man from before spoke with a woman from Sweden, Fernando taking the opprotunity to finally speak to him.

"Monseigneur Lance, it's a pleasure to meet you." Fernando bowed his head, holding a hand out to the shorter prince who's eyes shot up, they were hazel and seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit room.

"Sire," Lance spoke softly, taking Fernandos hand as the Spaniard placed a kiss on his knuckles, the younger boys face flushing pink at the usually meaningless action "the pleasure is all mine."

"I hope your journey here wasn't too strenous, it's a long ride from Versailles." Fernando spoke, letting go of the boys hand then stepping back slightly

"Of course not, I always prefer the carriage rides to the actual balls, anyway" he stated matter-of-factly, only realizing how rude it sounded seconds later. "Apologies, I'm not sure why I said that."

Fernando smiled, covering his mouth to let out a small laugh "There's no need to apologize, I feel the same."

Lance wasn't sure how to respond, all he could do was flash the king a smile, not expecting to relate to him of all people.

"Is it stuffy in here to you?" The Spaniard asked, cocking his head to the side before continuing "Would you like to ride around with me? Get some fresh air."

"I'd love to." The teenager responded with no hesitation, face lighting up at the idea

"Let's go, then. I'll give you a personal tour of my dynasty as long as you'll return the favour." Fernando said, holding his hand out once more, but this time to steal Lance away

Fernando stood beside the door of the carriage, helping the prince get in before getting in himself. It was nice, Lance thought, being treated how princesses are treated. As the carriage began moving he couldn't get the feeling of the Spanish mans lips on his knuckles out of his mind, it was embarrassing just how much he had replayed it already.

"Will your family be staying the night? Most of my guests are but if you're leaving before dawn I'll be sure to return you in time." The king spoke, Lance's eyes focusing on the mans mouth as his lips moved, hardly registering his words.

"I'm sure we will be, my mother and sister prefer to get a decent amount of rest before returning home after balls."

"Perfect, that gives us plenty of time, then." Fernando nodded to himself, moving to sit on the same side as Lance as he pulled back the curtains, the sunset illuminating the streets perfectly.

The smaller boys eyes found their way outside, practically twinkling as he admired just how gorgeous it looked at this time of day

"It's beautiful" He whispered, not bothering to turn and see the older mans reaction

"It is" The Spanish man said quietly, he knew what Lance meant, the landscape was beautiful. Of course Fernando knew that, he lived here, but he only thing he could see was the Prince next to him, he was truly beautiful.

The two continued down the road for a few more minutes before they reached town, Fernando noticing his guards escorting Jesuits from their home right away. He swiftly closed the curtains and began distracting Lance, not wanting the sweet boy to witness the men in black cassocks being pushed and shoved through the streets of the small town they had entered. The new king had made it his first order to expel every resident of the Spanish Empire that was concerningly loyal to the Pope as soon as he had been crowned. He would never admit it as he was too full of pride but he felt threatened by the men devoting themselves to the pope. He was above the pope. He was king. He had power and he was going to make sure every commoner he ruled over was aware of that.

"Hm?" Lance hummed as he noticed the curtains draw shut, turning his body to face the larger man, having not taken in just how drastic their size difference was. Not only was there a difference in power from Spanish King to French Prince but there was also a difference in aura, the mans eyes on him felt intimidating, Lance gazing hesitently at the man as the carriage fell quiet, Fernandos lidded eyes not leaving Lance's for a second

"We're rebuilding in this area, I'd hate for you to see how much of a mess it is right now." He lied, the words slipping off of his tongue as if they were as true as scripture, reciting it as if it was a verse he'd spent weeks remembering.

The credulous boy just nodded, having way too much trust in the man he'd become acquainted with just minutes prior.

"I'm sure it looks fine, every part of your kingdom I've seen so far has been stunning." The Frenchman reassured, wondering if maybe the new King was insecure about the state of his colonies.

"Why, thank you, Monseigneur Lance." Fernando smiled, partially because of the sweet words coming from the boy at his side but also because of just how easy he was to trick "you're too kind."

"No need to be so formal, Your Majesty." Lance scooted back, eyes following Fernando as his arm moved to open the curtains once more, now far enough away from his men to insure Lance saw nothing. "It's just us"

"If I'm to just call you Lance then please, call me Fernando."

"Well, Fernando." Lance started, looking outside of the carriage before turning back to the man "Can you tell me more? About your dynasty. I've only learned what's in the books"

"You've read books about my kingdom?" Fernando laughed dryly, finding it funny how the Prince of France spent his free time reading about the Spanish Empire.

"I've read about many things." Lance nodded, locking his fingers together in his lap "My Father would rather me learn than fight in the war."

"Ah, yes." Fernando nodded, having forgotten about what was currently happening on his allies land. "I understand where he's coming from. I was hesitant to put my sons in command as well."

"How many sons do you have, Fernando?" Lance asked, not having read much about the new kings family

"Three, they're all around your age" Fernando looked outside, smiling to himself as he watched Lance turn to look as well "Carlos is my eldest, then Lando, then my youngest boy Oscar."

"You have only sons?" Lance asked, still looking outside, watching as their surroundings began to get darker and darker

"Yes, just three boys."

"What about their mother? There isn't a queen, is there?"

Fernando shook his head, leaning on the wall behind him before responding, arms crossed over his chest as he watched "Their mother died a few years ago, Tuberculosis they think."

"Oh." He whispered, only now turning to look at the Spaniard, biting his lip slightly in an effort to hide his newfound discomfort "I'm sorry, I- I didn't know."

"Don't apologize." He spoke, harsher than he had before. "Was nothing I could do, the boys are old enough to deal with it and I had more important things to do than wallow in my own self pity."

Lance just nodded, fidgeting with his fingers as he avoided the Spaniards gaze, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up, although a part of him was relieved to find out the King didn't have anyone at his side

The man reached out to grab Lance's hand, quickly letting his coachman know they were getting out and to wait for them.

The naive Prince followed blindly, letting the man ahead of him pull him through unfamiliar land as if they'd known one another all their lives. Fernando couldn't help but take note of everything Lance was so quick to let him do to him, he couldn't help but wonder just how far he could push it.

They eventually reached a short stone pathway and at the end was a small pavillion with a bench nestled towards the back where plants were growing up the wood. By then it'd gotten darker, Fernando glad to have matches on him as he lit the lamps around the wooden structure

"Woah" Lance breathed out, admring the garden he'd found himself in as Fernando dusted off the bench, still holding onto the boys hand as he pulled him to take a seat

"I haven't been here in ages. I figured if I was going to go back it'd be fun to not be alone." Fernando hummed, the last time he was here he'd killed his father.

"Gosh, if I lived closer I'd spend all my time here!" Lance laughed, smiling up at the man who had yet to take a seat

"I used to, when I became King the first time I hardly had time" He spoke, looking around as soon as he finished, eyes falling on the steps in front of him, the place he'd met his father before quite literally stabbing him in the back. It was what the old bastard deserved. Without his actions Ferdinand would've never became king and Fernando would still be stuck in Naples.

"The first time?" Lance hummed, unbuttoning his justacourps and sliding it off before folding it neatly in his lap

"Si." Fernando nodded, finally taking a seat next to the Prince "Before my brother died I was the king of Naples and Sicily. My eldest, Carlos, is taking over as soon as he finishes being stubborn about his knightly duties."

The boy laughed, he'd grown so used to just hearing people around him speak that everything about Fernandos accent made his sarcasm even funnier. "You're very experienced, Fernando"

"I am." He confirmed, meaning it in more ways than the innocent boy could imagine. As a ruler? Yes, of course. Killer? He supposes. Husband? To some extent. Sexually? Very.

"How long did you rule over Naples and Sicily?" He asked, eager to learn more about the mysterious man beside him

"Twenty-four years, I took over when I was eleven so my mother helped me rule until I was married off and began having children."

"Wow, I feel like I haven't done anything as prince" Lance laughed, tracing the neatly done sewing on the cloth he had on his lap "My father took over France at five, his mother helped him until he was thirteen as well, but sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be king."

"You could be my king." The Spaniard spoke calmly, not sure why Lance began to react the way he did

"Hm?" He questioned, unsure if he was understanding the mans accent correctly

"Be my king. I have no bride, nor do I have a groom." The man shrugged, watching as Lance's facial expression controrted "It is not the 16th century anymore, is normal to have two kings, Lancito."

Lance was aware that it'd become more normalized to see two men ruling side by side, a part of him had always yearned for the connection between a King and his King Consort but until now he'd figured it'd just been out of pure curiosity and a need to figure out the unknown

"Are you asking me to madry you, Fernando?" Lance asked, knowing it seemed obvious enough but he had to be sure, maybe this was just a Spanish thing.

"Consider it." Fernando spoke, holding Lance's hands in his own "Don't say no straight away, this will give us both what we want."

"I'm not sure my father would say yes-" Lance began, eyebrows furrowing as the Spaniard cut him off

"You're father likes me, I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear his son has been proposed to by none other than his greatest allies king."

"I know, I'm just not sure he'll be comfortable with me being so far from home." Lance's voice got quieter as he spoke, not wanting his words to upset the man before him

"I'll take you to visit every chance we get, it'll be like you never left." His voice softened, realizing that if he was to get the French Kings son to marry him he'd have to play nice.

"Well, then.." He dragged out his words, looking at their hands together before responding. There was such a drastic contrast between them, the Spaniards naturally tan and thicker hands making the boys pale and lanky hands seem even smaller. "I suppose" He finished, figuring he wouldn't find anyone better than the Spaniard. He'd seen his siblings get married to ugly and unjust aristocrats that he was relieved someone so kind was asking for his hand in marriage.

The taller mans lips curled, he quickly stood up and pulled Lance to him, the Frenchman leaving his coat on the bench beside where he'd sat before being greeted by the sudden feeling of lips on his.

It was embarrassing to think about how bad of a kisser he had to be. He just tried to follow Fernandos lead, fingers trailing over the gold detailing of his dresscoat as the kiss began to deepen, the kings hands finding their way to the boys waist to pull them even closer, bodies practically connected as Lance settled on the tips of his toes in order to make this easier.

Once Fernando pulled away Lance felt light headed, lips now puffy and red as he breathed harshly, covering his face from the man out of pure embarrassment.

"Do not hide from me, Lancito." He cooed, leaning over to pull the boys hands from his face, thumb brushing over his lips before he spoke again "te ves guapo" the king whispered, Lance unable to hold back a smile as he registered Fernandos words, face flushing a familiar pink as the man called him beautiful.

"We should get back" Lance said softly, face turning to meet the Spaniards gaze as his hands lingered on his chest

"You're right, I should probably ask for your fathers blessing, eh?" They laughed, the prince nodding as the older man grabbed a lantern, calmly finding the way back to the carriage

Fernando couldn't keep his hands off Lance during the short ride back, hand inching further up the boys thigh as his face got hotter, now hidden in the collar of his casaca. It was painfully obvious how inexperienced the boy was, Fernando wasn't sure what he'd done in his past life to deserve such a reward but he was beyond grateful.

It didn't progress past teasing touches, Fernando curious to see just how worked up he could get the boy before he disappeared back into the ballroom to speak to his father.

The answer was very, as they came to a stop outside the palace Lance couldn't hide the look of pure arousal on his face as he felt the Spaniards hands leave, whining at the feeling of his touch fading

"Fer..." He whispered, grabbing weakly onto the mans sleeves as he begged for just a little more

"Patience, let's see what your father says before continuing this, mi rey" Fernando negotiated, kissing the boys jaw softly before exiting the carriage, disappearing inside before Lance had the chance to follow behind.

"How have you been, Your majesty?" The King asked, earning a short response from his ally. "I've come to ask something of you, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead" Lawrence nodded, watching the Spaniard with curiousity

"I'd like to ask for your blessing, King Lawrence." He stated plainly, looking the man in front of him in the eyes "I'd like to make your son my King Consort."

Lawrence nodded right away, arm moving to pat the tanned mans back, smiling similarly to Lance "I'd love to give you my son, I'm shocked you felt the need to ask, Sire."

They both laughed, Lawrence's practically coming from his stomach as he closed his eyes, Fernando returning a short, knowing, and dry laugh.

Lance wandered back into the ballroom, greeted with a light hug from his mother, it wasn't normal in his family for her to show affection to him like this so he was almost worried something had gone wrong but as soon as he saw Lawrence and Fernando side by side he knew what'd happened, he was now set to marry the King of Spain.

[cucullas]

Favorite list of royal women | Regnant queens (who crowed herself queen without her husbands)

Been a queen regnant is not always easy specially when you are married but mor common than one would think. Here four of my favorite queen that were married and despite what society, and often the husband himself, thought decided that her lands by heritage or conquest were only hers to rule. 

i. [1081-1116] Called The Reckless, Urraca was one of the most powerful reigning Queens of her time having inherithed the kingdom of León. Upon the death of her first husband she was convinced to marry Alfonso of Aragon the most successful warrior king of the Iberian Peninsula. It went horribly wrong. Personalities clashed and Alfonso emprisoned Urraca at one point. With Galicia rebelling and the Almoravides menace the spouses still went to war againts each other. Finally they separate and while Urraca still has a long way ahead and could keep most of her lands for herself.

ii. [1697-1731] Louise Hyppolite was at her time of birth the last Grimaldi. Monaco was under French control and it was decided that man from the French King family will be Louise’s husband and rule along with her. She was married and had to leave her land with her husband. Described as shy and submissive she did not enjoy her time at Versailles. When her father was ill she came back alone to Monaco and when he died she crowned herself Princess of Monaco with the people enthusiastic support naming her firstborn heir. There is no much her husband could do and though she ruled fr a short time she did it as the sole Princess.

iii. [1717-1780] Maria Theresia’s father Emperor Charles VI of the Roman Empire, did not prepared her to rule as he was convinced that her husband would rule for her. However, she had other plans and when her father died Maria Theresa, a 23 years old set to stablish her right as a moanrch against Prussia and most of Europe. She manage to gain ruling experience and be a monarch for 40 years. Though she deeply loved her husband she did not let him rule in her name and even refused to kneel in front of him when he was elected Holy Roman Emperor as she was of highest ruler. She was Sovereign of Hungary and Bohemia and Archduchess of Austria on her own right her husband being the consort. 

iv. [1583-1663] Njinga was Queen of Ndongo after her father and brother. At the time with the Portuguese slave trade Njinga became a symbol of resistance to the Europeans. In order to gain power in the center of the region she married an Imbangala leader and learned the techniques and strategies of his people. However when she set to conquer the kingdom of Matamba and ruled there as the Queen as Matamba had tradition of female rulers. As she gained influence she was recognized as one of the great queens of the region at the time. 

[empiredesimparte]

Live broadcast of ‘Le Sacre de Napoléon V’ on the national channel Francesim 2, hosted by Stéphane Bernard

(Another journalist) The procession ascends the cathedral and reaches the choir. (Stéphane Bernard) Indeed, at the head of the procession, you'll notice the palace usher. He's closely followed by the heralds-at-arms, the Master of Ceremonies, the Grand Marshal, and most notably, by Prince Murat, who carries the Empress's crown.

(Stéphane Bernard) Here comes the Empress's procession, following behind the crown. She is surrounded by the women of the imperial family: Madame Mère, Madame Hortense, and the daughters of Prince Imperial Henri. In addition to the imperial mantle, the Empress wears the crown of Marie-Louise of Austria. (Another journalist) Why is the Empress already wearing a crown? (Stéphane Bernard) It's truly unprecedented, yes. During the ceremony, there's a moment dedicated to what we call the "regalia"… In truth, I'll tell you, this term wasn't really used back then. We talked more about ornaments or royal insignia. Deciphering all these symbols live… It's not easy, but… I would say that the Empress seems to be indicating that it's through her marriage that she acquired imperial dignity. As a result, today, she receives another crown: that of Francesim.

(Stéphane Bernard) His Holiness, Pope Gregorius XIX, takes his place near the imperial canopy, facing Their Majesties.

(Stéphane Bernard) And here comes the imperial procession advancing to the majestic sound of trumpets! Leading the way is the Grand Chamberlain, accompanied by the marshals of Francesim. He bears the cruciferous orb.

(Stéphane Bernard) Behind the Orb, Emperor Napoleon V advances in his Grand Habit de Sacre: a purple coat adorned with ermine fur. The laurel wreath of the Roman emperors rests on his head. The Emperor holds in his hands the scepters of Justice and of Charles V, and at his waist, rests the sword of Charlemagne, known as Joyeuse.

(Stéphane Bernard) His Majesty is surrounded by Their Imperial Highnesses, Prince Imperial Henri, and his son, Prince Philippe of Francesim. The procession is closed by the State counselors and members of the government.

⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°9 | Francesim, Paris, 28 Thermidor An 230

The coronation ceremony begins in the choir of Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral. It was broadcast live on television by Stéphane Bernard, the famous journalist for the crowned heads in Francesim.

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

(Autre journaliste) Le cortège de l'Empereur remonte la cathédrale et rejoint le chœur. (Stéphane Bernard) Effectivement, en tête de cortège, vous remarquez l'huissier du palais. Il est suivi de près par les hérauts d'armes, le Maître de Cérémonie, le Grand Maréchal, et surtout, par le prince Murat qui porte la couronne de l'Impératrice. Car il s'agit aussi du sacre de l'impératrice.

(Stéphane Bernard) Voici le cortège de l'Impératrice, qui marche derrière la couronne. Elle est entourée des femmes de la famille impériale : Madame Mère, Madame Hortense, et les filles du prince impérial Henri. En plus du manteau impérial, l'impératrice porte la couronne de Marie-Louise d'Autriche. (Autre journaliste) Pourquoi l'impératrice porte-t-elle déjà une couronne ? (Stéphane Bernard) C'est vraiment inédit oui. Pendant la cérémonie, il y a un moment dédié à ce qu'on appelle les "regalia"... En vérité, je vous le dis, ce terme n'était pas vraiment utilisé à l'époque. On parlait plutôt d'ornements ou d'insignes royaux. Décrypter tous ces symboles en direct... N'est pas facile, mais... Je dirais que l'impératrice semble signifier que c'est par son mariage qu'elle a acquis la dignité impériale. De ce fait, aujourd'hui, elle reçoit une autre couronne : celle de Francesim.

(Stéphane Bernard) Sa Sainteté, le Pape Gregorius XIX, prend place près du dais impérial, en face de Leurs Majestés.

(Stéphane Bernard) Et voici le cortège impérial qui avance au son majestueux des trompettes ! En tête, le Grand Chambellan, accompagné des maréchaux de Francesim. Il porte l'orbe crucigère. Derrière l'Orbe, l'Empereur Napoléon V avançant dans son Grand Habit de Sacre : un manteau pourpre orné de fourrure d'hermine. La couronne de lauriers des empereurs romains repose sur sa tête. L'Empereur tient dans ses mains les sceptres de la Justice et de Charles V, et à sa taille, repose l'épée de Charlemagne, nommée Joyeuse.

(Stéphane Bernard) Sa Majesté est entouré par Leurs Altesses Impériales, le prince impérial Henri, et son fils, le prince Philippe de Francesim. Le cortège est fermé par les conseillers d'Etat et les membres du gouvernement.

[royal-confessions]

“I'm tired of TV series and films about Princess Diana or Empress Elisabeth of Austria, I know they've played their part in history. But it would be nice to make some film productions about women who have had an impact on the history of monarchies, for example Queen Leonor of Aquitaine, Queen Christina of Sweden or other notable royal women.” - Submitted by cenacevedo15

[chopinski-official]

Dobry wieczór. Since it’s International Women’s Day (albeit not strictly), tonight I would like to draw my followers’ attention to the female pianists and composers who were my contemporaries… Apologies for the lengthiness, evidently there is a lot to be covered.

Clara Schumann 1819-1896

A child prodigy, Clara was taught piano by her father and by thirteen he was taking her on concert tours.

She met Robert Schumann as a child when he came to Leipzig to study law at the university. He took piano lessons from Clara’s father, Friedrich Wieck. When she was 18, he proposed to her. They married in 1840.

The virtuoso went on tours with her husband and earn money by performing and teaching. She was also a gifted composer, however most of her time was spent looking after her family, editing Robert’s music and playing. Clara’s compositions include more than 20 piano works, a piano concerto, some chamber music and several songs.

Fanny Mendelssohn 1805–1847

Composer and pianist, Fanny grew up in Berlin, sharing the same musical education as her brother Felix, with whom she had a close relationship.

Her compositions include a piano trio, a piano quartet, an orchestral overture, four cantatas, more than 125 pieces for the piano and over 250 lieder, most of which were unpublished in her lifetime. Although lauded for her piano technique, she rarely gave public performances outside her family circle.

Owing to her family's reservations and to social conventions of the time about the roles of women, six of her songs were published under her brother's name in his Opus 8 and 9 collections.

Marie Moke 1811-1874

Marie Moke gave her first concert at the age of eight and by the age of fifteen, she was already known in Belgium, Austria, Germany and Russia as an accomplished virtuoso.

She married pianist and piano manufacturer, Camille Pleyel, but they later separated on account of her promiscuity. Heinrich Heine considered her among the greatest pianists “Thalberg is a king, Liszt a prophet, Chopin a poet, Herz an advocate, Kalkbrenner a minstrel, Mme Pleyel a sibyl, and Döhler a pianist.”

Later on, she created the piano school at the Royal Conservatory in Brussels where she taught from 1848 to 1872.

Louise Farrenc 1804-1875

A French composer, virtuoso pianist and teacher, she started playing young and had piano lessons with famous teachers such as Moscheles and Hummel. She studied composition privately with Anton Reicha at the Paris Conservatoire, unable to go to composition classes as a woman. By the 1820s she was touring France, giving concerts.

In 1842 she was made Professor of Piano at the Paris Conservatoire where she stayed for 30 years. For a decade she was paid less than the male teachers. Only after the triumphant premiere of her nonet did she demand and receive equal pay. She wrote a wide variety of piano music, but her chamber pieces are considered to be her best work.

Pauline Viardot 1821-1910

From a musical family (including her older sister, Maria Malibran) Pauline was trained by her father on the piano and in singing.

In her youth she took piano lessons with Franz Liszt and counterpoint and harmony classes with Anton Reicha. However, despite wanting to become a concert pianist, she was directed towards singing by her mother.

Pauline began composing when she was young, but it was never her intention to become a composer. Written mainly as private pieces for her students, her works were still of professional quality and Franz Liszt declared that, with Pauline Viardot, the world had finally found a woman composer of genius. Compositions include her chamber operas Le dernier sorcier and Cendrillon.

Arabella Goddard 1836–1922

Born in France to English parents, at age six Arabella was sent to Paris to study with Friedrich Kalkbrenner. Aged seven she played for myself and George much to our pleasure.

During the 1848 Revolution her family had to return to England; there, Arabella had further lessons with Lucy Anderson and Sigismond Thalberg. She was known for her ability to play recitals from memory.

Arabella was appointed a teacher at the Royal College of Music in 1883. This was the RCM’s first year of operation and Arabella was its first female professor. She composed a small number of piano pieces, including a suite of six waltzes.

Marcelina Czartoryska 1817-1894

Born into the aristocratic Polish family, the Radziwiłłs, Marcelina was taught piano by Carl Czerny in Vienna and by myself in Paris. She gave concerts across Europe, with Franz Liszt, Pauline Viardot and Henri Vieuxtemps.

From 1870 she lived in Kraków, where she gave mainly private concerts and, thanks to her artistic connections, contributed to founding Kraków’s Academy of Music in 1888.

Maria Kalergis 1822-1874

Raised in Saint Petersburg in the home of her paternal uncle, the Tsar's minister of foreign affairs, Maria received a thorough education where she evinced an early musical talent.

She was a student of mine and held salons in Paris whose guests included Liszt, Richard Wagner, de Musset, Gautier and Heine. Later, she became a hostess and a patron of the arts in Warsaw.

She was a co-founder of the Warsaw Musical Institute, now the Warsaw Conservatory and established the Warsaw Musical Society, now the Warsaw Philharmonic. Between 1857 and 1871 she made frequent appearances as a pianist.

On her death, Franz Liszt wrote his Elegy on Marie Kalergi.

[catalinadearagonsblog]

Katherine of Aragon & Isabella of Austria

In the summer of 1523, Christian II, the deposed King of Denmark, arrived in England with his wife, Isabella of Austria. Christian and Isabella had been exiled from their own dominions and together with their three children sought refuge at the court of Margaret of Austria, Isabella’s paternal aunt. Christian requested to see Henry VIII in an attempt to secure his backing in the succession war. They were united by family ties since Isabella of Austria was Katherine of Aragon’s niece. They landed at Dover on 15 June 1523 and were “nobly received by the earl of Devonshire, and the bishops of Exeter, and Rochester, and diverse knights and esquires, and so brought to Greenwich: where the King and Queen, standing under their cloths of estate, received [them] in the great hall of Greenwich”. Chronicler Edward Hall was not impressed with their entourage “poor and evil apparelled” .

On 3 July 1523, Cardinal Wolsey wrote that the royal couple was “lodged and feasted at Greenwich, and are now at Bath Place at the King’s costs”. Henry VIII was eager to help Christian and Isabella return to their country, writing to Charles V, Isabella’s brother, that it “would be advisable if the Emperor would join with himself in sending fit persons to Denmark to settle this dispute”. The exiled royals stayed in England for twenty-two days and then returned to Margaret of Austria’s court.

Sylvia Barbara Soberton, The Forgotten Tudor Women: Gertrude Courtenay. Wife and Mother of the last Plantagenets

[teecupangel]

Just a random idea that came from the AC Unity posts but what about Desmond as Marie Antoinette, France's most hated dauphin? Like Desmond in Cantarella, he is surrounded by Templars but this time it is in the middle of a court that seeks to remove him from the throne by any means, at any cost. And Desmond, as in Cantarella, can choose to run away from all this (toward Connor in the colonies) or play the game in which he is inside to avoid a massacre.

(Now, I don't remember much about AC Unity but I do know that Marie birth was in 1755 and came to court at eighteen, which would make her canonically four years older than Arno but only one year older than Connor, which is a long time, for whatever plan Desmond has after the shock of being born again.)

So the Templar and Assassin presence in Austria and the Holy Roman Empire are a bit vague, especially during Marie Antoinette's time growing up so we can play around with that aspect.

Although...

Desmond probably only heard of Marie Antoinette in passing. She mostly knows her as the ‘let them eat cake’ bitch and holy shit, there was no way she was going to be her, especially since she did watch Kirsten Dunst’s Marie Antoinette (he was bored, okay?) so yeah, definitely didn’t want to part of all of that.

Desmond tries to appear not that interesting, making people whisper that she’s lazy but brilliant as she knows Latin, Italian and French (thanks, Ezio).

Her beauty is also marred by the fact that she doesn’t like to wear those restrictive women's clothes. She’s fine wearing dresses, she’s not fine wearing stuff that impedes her movements.

This, unfortunately, meant that they’re forced to make clothes that would be beautiful but not restrictive just so Desmond would wear them to balls and important events that needed her presence.

She doesn’t even understand why they needed her to do any of these. She’s the youngest, shouldn’t she be more or less worthless in the eyes of the royal family?

What she doesn’t realize is that her beauty and brains made her interesting. And having the Bleeds of Haytham Kenway and Ezio Auditore meant she could be graceful if she wanted to, meaning that, if one was simply to turn a blind eye on her ‘laziness’ and her ‘strange musings’, she is certainly one of the most promising young noble ladies of her generation.

Because of this, she gets the attention of Louis XV who wants her to become the future wife of his grandson, Louis XVI.

History finally gets royally fucked up when the announcement of Desmond’s marriage to Louis XVI becomes public when she is just freaking 14.

So, out of desperation because there is no way in freaking hell she was going to marry some dude at 14...

Also… childbirth? Nopenopenopenope. She just got used to the whole monthly bleeding thing. The idea of giving birth frightens her more than burning from the inside again...

She runs away.

Now…

At this point, she didn’t have any allies nor any actual plan like Giovanni!Desmond did in Cantarella.

What she did have was the skills of three Master Assassins and one Grand Templar so Desmond ran away in the middle of the night, more reminiscent of his running away from the Farm to be completely honest.

She pretends to be a boy which wasn’t that hard at the moment because she was still growing and gets into a ship bound for the colonies where, she hopes, she’d be able to find Ratonhnhaké:ton.

… Not knowing the huge scandal she would be making by disappearing in the middle of the night.

And how this entire thing could spell a disaster in France and Austria’s future since her marriage had been one of the conditions for an alliance between the two.

Unorganized Ideas:

She pretends to be a dude but she’s really pretty. Becomes harder once her growth spurt truly starts

She meets up with Ratonhnhaké:ton in Davenport Homestead after Ratonhnhaké:ton’s whole ‘arrested because white people, man’ shit in Boston. They grow up to be more or less partners.

Achilles thinks she’s a runaway daughter of an Assassin (which is technically true) and a part of him wonders if she may not be related to John de la Tour (maybe even his granddaughter?) because she makes offhanded comments about France.

The missing Marie Antoinette becomes the French/British version of ‘Anatasia Romanov lives’ rumors. No one thinks it’s Desmond though.

Except for one person who had seen a portrait of the young Marie Antoinette once… Marquis de La Fayette.

Haytham believes Desmond is his son’s beau (and, later on, wife). He is not the first to believe that and Ratonhnhaké:ton and Desmond had stopped trying to correct people and just let them think whatever they want.

Desmond does milk it a bit, calling Ratonhnhaké:ton ‘my dearest’. Ratonhnhaké:ton simply goes along with it because Desmond had always been strange even by white men standards.

Ratonhnhaké:ton knew Desmond was a girl from the beginning, he just didn’t make a big deal about it. This made Desmond believe that Ratonhnhaké:ton never realized she was a girl until she started ‘filling out’.

[winterhalters]

women in history [9/?] Marie de Hautefort, Maréchale de Schömberg

The eventful, action-packed life of Marie de Hautefort rivals that of fictional characters. While she was never brought up as a source of inspiration for the character of Constance Bonacieux, her friendship with Anne of Austria drove her to unfathomable lengths to protect her. Secret correspondence, bribery, and, on one occasion, infiltrating a royal fortress, she was known and feared for her undying loyalty to her. While her relationship with Louis XIII was most likely platonic, and although many years had passed, she still found the courage to speak up against the physical and emotional abuse she and Anne suffered to his son, Louis XIV, and often urged him to be a more decent man than he was.

[garlandedspirits]

Franca Florio - The “Star of Italy”

She was nicknamed by her admirers “The Queen of Palermo”, the german Kaiser Wilhelm II called her “The Star of Italy” and writer and poet Gabriele D'Annunzio described her as “a unique woman. A creature whose every movement possesses a divine rhythm” or simply “L’Unica”. She was born Francesca Paola Jacona della Motta dei baroni di San Giuliano, but is known in prosperity as Donna Franca Florio.

The elegant, cultured, lively and intelligent Donna Franca Florio quickly dazzled society after her marriage to entrepreneur and shipowner Ignazio Florio Jr, one of the wealthiest men in Italy. Tall and slender with a 22-24 inch waist and with brilliant green eyes and raven black hair, she was a captivating beauty (if slightly unconventional due to her somewhat dark skin in a time where porcelain skin was valued, even undergoing a painful liquid enmael treatment in Paris in an effort to make her skin paler)

Her wardrobe and sense of style was legendary, with the great fashion designer Jean Philippe Worth calling her the best dressed and most beautiful woman in Italy. Her clothes from the greatest fashion houses and jewelry from Cartier and Lalique were custom made for her, and the outfits worn during her public appearances were lovingly described in papers and magazines. Her jewelry, including a priceless pearl necklace made out of 365 pearls, is said to have outshone even those of the Queen of Italy herself, and was generously given to her by her husband, it is said, as apologies for his frequent infidelities. She did however stop wearing earrings, as they were said to take away from the beauty of her face.

There was however much more to her than good looks and sense of style that made her such a celebrated figure. She was a woman of great intelligence, charisma and artistic taste, and was fluent in german, french and english as well as italian. She had a great ability to make connections with people, which was to great benefit for her entrepreneur husband. She was admired by the Intelligentsia, the artists and intellectuals of her time. Despite her extravagant money spending, she was gifted with great humanity and generosity. She promoted several nurseries, offered trousseaus to orphan girls, made sure her servants children got gifts on christmas, and personally nursed the wounded, and even adopted an orphan, of Messina after an earthquake devastated it in 1908.

Emperor Franz Josef of Austria was also one of her royal admirers, gifting her with a trumpet for her car specifially made to announce his arrival, causing people to stop and salute the car thinking it was the Emperor himself. Also women admired her, such as Queen Elena of Italy, who she was also a lady-in-waiting to, and writers Matilde Serao and Anna Maria Neera Zuccari, the latter whom held her in such high esteem she would consult her for opinions on her literary work. One polish princess Ghiza was allegedly so enchanted with her after meeting her once at a hotel, she declared her love for her in a long letter and continued to admire her from afar.  

Despite all this attention, she never had any affairs and remained loyal to her husband and family. Beneath the glamourous facade she also suffered great personal anguish with three of her five children dying in their childhood, her husband’s cheating and scandal mongering, and eventually the Florio family’s economic collapse. After the bankruptcy of Ignazio Florio Jr., Donna Franca retreated to the Villa Silviati, belonging to the husband of her daughter Costanza Igiea Florio. She died there on 10 November 1950.

Under her and her husband’s patronage, Palermo blossomed into a cosmopolitan city and their mark is still visible to this day.