#agnes of courtenay

[incorrect-koh-posts]

In your research, have you ever run across any reliable descriptions of Agnes de Courtenay, her brother Joscelin, or Sybilla?

I am sorry to disappoint you, dear anon, but - quite frankly: no. To my knowledge, no first-hand accounts of what they looked or behaved like survive. The problem is that neither William of Tyre nor Ernoul describe women in their texts; the only woman whose appearance William briefly comments on is Theodora Komnena, the Byzantine betrothed of Baldwin III.

As far as I've read, William only mentions Agnes of Courtenay in the context of the annulment of her marriage to Amalric; as one of Amalric's chief character flaws the chronicler mentions that the king was a philanderer who "is said to have abandoned himself without restraint to the sins of the flesh and to have seduced married women" (A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea, Book XIX), which, by extension, implies Agnes to be the 'betrayed wife' in the way she is so often depicted in modern fiction. William actually goes on to throw quite a bit of shade on her in his recounting of these events, emphasising her two incestous marriages:

"After the death of his brother, however, when Amaury claimed the kingdom devolving upon him by hereditary right, he was forced to put away his wife [...], for it was claimed that they were within the fourth degree of blood relationship, a fact which was later solemnly attested in the face of the church by relatives common to both. An annulment [...] was pronounced, therefore, and the marriage dissolved [...]. Amaury remained unmarried for a time, but Agnes at once united herself in the bonds of matrimony with the noble and illustrious man, Hugh d'Ibelin, son of the older Balian. [...] After Hugh's death and while Amaury was still living, Agnes entered into the same bonds of affection with Renaud of Sidon, son of Gerard. This alliance is said to have been not less illegal than her former relation to King Amaury. For Gerard, the father of Renaud, a blood relation of both as he certainly was, established by his sworn statement the consanguinity of these two [...]. A second annulment consequently followed [...]." (Book XIX)

Ernoul, too, goes on to slander Agnes in his Chronique, accusing her of being an "immoral woman" - which, as Helen J. Nicholson writes, was very likely a result of later political rivalries and "complaints about Agnes's influence over her son" (35).

Of Joscelin III of Courtenay, Agnes' brother and Sibylla's uncle, likewise no description survives. William of Tyre spent quite some ink detailing the deeds of Joscelin's grandfather and father, praising the character of the former but noting about the latter that he "was far inferior to his father in character [...]: a lazy, idle man, given over to low and dissolute pleasures, one who spurned good ways and followed base pursuits" (Book XVII). This Joscelin II (who died in captivity in Aleppo in the late 1150s) was the man who lost the County of Edessa first to the Muslim forces of Zengi 1144, then again to Zengi's son Nur ad-Din in 1146. Thus, Joscelin III, being Count of Edessa only by title, had effectively no lands to rule over and from which to gain income. But he came south to the Kingdom of Jerusalem after Agnes had married Amalric, and the king granted him some land and income around Acre (Nicholson 34). Like Raymond III of Tripoli, Joscelin was captured by Nur ad-Din during the Battle of Harim in 1164, and only released in 1176, and went on to marry a sister of Stephanie of Milly (who was the wife of Reynald of Châtillon). He also became the guardian of Baldwin V in 1185 while Raymond served as the boy's regent.

As for Sibylla, I shall give you Helen J. Nicholson's two cents on the situation because she writes about her far more succintly than I could:

"Unlike her father King Amaury of Jerusalem, her younger brother King Baldwin IV, or her cousin King Henry II of England, no contemporary who saw her described Sybil's physical appearance, so we do not know whether she was (like her father) tall, overweight, with an attractive face, bright eyes, an aquiline nose and yellow hair, or (like her little brother) simply attractive for her age, or (like her cousin) of above medium height, strongly built, with freckles and blue-grey eyes. We also do not know whether she shared any of her father's or brother's personality traits: whether (like her father) she spoke with a slight speech impediment, had a sharp mind and was able to accurately recall what she had heard, enjoyed hearing about history and was always ready to argue a point, or (like her brother) was good at riding, with a tenacious memory and a sharp mind, loving conversation, thrifty, but with a stammer. Sybil's contemporaries scarcely ever ascribed any emotion to her: only her tears of submission when she was humbling herself before Saladin to request the release of her husband Guy after the surrender of Jerusalem early in October 1187, and her tears of joy when she met Guy after Saladin released him in early summer 1188. Such tears were an appropriate emotion for a loving wife. [...]

The difficulty of establishing women's actual deeds and authority from contemporary narrative accounts, which insisted that respectable women should not hold authority of take an active role in society except in certain limited roles (typically as devoted wife or mother), is familiar to all historians who have attempted to study the history of women. The narrative commentaries on Sybil's career present modern readers with the additional problem that their gendered expectations were further filtered through the distorting lens of the complex political situation in the kingdom of Jerusalem. Those commentators who wrote after Saladin's victory at Hattin on 4 July 1187 and his capture of Jerusalem on 2 October 1187 also sought to assign blame or credit for these events and adjusted their accounts accordingly." (8ff.)

Works Cited:

Helen J. Nicholson: Sybil, Queen of Jerusalem, 1186-1190. Routledge, 2022.

Emily Atwater Babcock & A.C. Krey (translators): A History of Deeds Done Beyond the Sea by William, Archbishop of Tyre. Colombia University Press, 1943.

[lady-corrine]

One thing you could always expect from Sharon K. Penman was to make her fav male characters the most innocent angels ever while always demonizing historical women that had powerful personalities 🙄

[snapheart1536]

I can’t remember where I heard this but I’ve heard some historians say that Anne wasn’t actually very politically savvy and the evidence they gave was the way she alienated people. Is this true? I mean, I know she definitely had political opinions but was she actually a good politician?

I mean, it's sort of a counterfactual, right? There's also a lot of misogyny at play here with that opinion, imho. I say this because, you know, if the judgement is that those that fall victim to political coups by reason of their downfall were never skilled politicians, then why is this primarily said of AB, but never Wolsey or Cromwell?

Also, I mean, context matters, right? Does it really matter, or speak to lack of political skill, that she 'alienated' Wolsey once Wolsey became, relatively, powerless? I suppose it does if you're of the Mantelite persuasion that Cromwell's support of AB as Queen was always superficial, some long-con of long-simmering resentment about her treatment of Wolsey. Anne also managed to win members of Wolsey's household to her side, including Richard Page, who was her ally for the rest of her tenure (her political, career...? ykwim). On the other hand, Cromwell, but there are less notable examples of this ilk, too, such as ...well, now I can't remember his name, but I cited him in another ask, I'll look for him later, but, there's another man from Wolsey's household that became Anne's ally, but later turned once she became Queen, and became a supporter of the Princess Mary (to be edited, linked here, later). So, that is to say, yes, she sometimes alienated people, even those that had previously allied themselves to her, I believe Francis Bryan is another example (I think there was some dispute with her brother between them, which couldn't have helped matters).

There's also like, this certain, how to say this...symmetry when it comes to the amount of influence someone in high title had versus the amount of people they alienated, if that makes sense? The Boleyns were hated for their rise, for many causes, among them that every favour which went to them wasn't granted towards someone else, because it was their allies and favorites that were being promoted, which fueled resentment of those that felt left in the cold. This was similar to the Woodvilles' rise and consolidation of power in the previous century. Power is not limitless power, either, so, it's not feasible to grant every favor that every potential ally asks for... yk, the example that's often cited in arguments for her lack of political savvy is the contentious relationship with one of the few Dukes in the realm, also her uncle. There is not actually an entire consensus on whether or not this relationship was that way, though? I believe Warnicke and Hoak have argued otherwise, that Chapuys sort of misunderstood their dynamic, that they were actually allies, as evidenced by her involvement in the marriage of his son to Frances de Vere, his daughter to Henry Fitzroy, that the report of the Duke being the one to report news of Henry VIII's accident to her in Jan 1536 actually denotes their confidence and even a close relationship.

Maybe there is an argument to be made that she could have been more conciliatory towards her opposition in court, and outside (her stepdaughter, and stepson, apparently Fox&Guy have recently argued), and, I mean...maybe? But also, to give favor to those opposed to reform would have alienated her allies that were reformers. There wasn't any feasible way for her to win over everyone, and there were always going to be those who were implacably opposed to her, and I believe she clocked them. I don't think it would have been 'politically savvy' to spend much of her political capital on appeasing them, if that makes sense. I think the amount which she expended (the offers to her stepdaugher, for example) was actually pretty sound.

There's also just, like, generally speaking, a misunderstanding of the sources which are cited for this argument. One example which comes to mind is the oft-cited 'petty' nature of the choice of Gertrude Courtenay as godmother to Princess Elizabeth. And like, it's not untrue that she was one of the godmothers, and it's probably not even untrue that this was a petty choice (although to claim this alone was enough to cause her enmity and later involvement in the ousting of the Boleyns from power would be...facile, at best), but she's usually the only one mentioned in pop history. Another godmother chosen was Agnes Howard (Tilney), the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, who also carried Queen Anne's train (it was also Howards doing this, the other was Mary Howard, and Anne's final offer to her stepdaughter included the promise that she would not have to carry her train in her invitation to court), was Anne's step-grandmother and seems to have been her supporter. Margaret Bryan has been cited as another example of Anne's faux pas, petty jaundice, and further alienation of her stepdaugher's supporters, in her choice of her as governess for Princess Elizabeth's household, since she had previously been Mary's. Oft elided is that Lady Bryan was also Anne's half-aunt, and thus Elizabeth's great-aunt, and that wanting her daughter in the care of experienced and trusted relatives seems fairly reasonable and understandable.

(Yeah, there's like, much that's characterized as 'petty' and 'alienating' that was at the least Henry's choice, as well, even if it there's great likelihood it was influenced by Anne? Princess Elizabeth's household was much larger in retinue and much higher in cost than her sister's had ever been, even when in Ludlow, as part of the politics of ostentation, her train took circuitous routes to better show the pomp and proclaim her title to the people... the former, at least, could only create a larger network of patronage and loyalty, though, and the latter seems a better alternative than any degree of subtlety, which would not telegraph the upcoming Act of Parliament affirming Elizabeth heiress, so...even if the impetus for all the above was the result of the push from her mother, I mean, I don't find any of the above to 'lack' political savvy)

There's also been a misread of Henry's remark at Anne's banquet prior to her first appearance as Queen, and the deliberate invitation of the Duchess of Norfolk (COA's ally, Thomas Howard the Duke of Norfolk's wife, and Anne's inveterate enemy) there, despite knowing her distaste for her royal niece, as both barbs that alienated her even further, and maybe even led to her husband's rancor towards his niece as well (alternately, she invited her because she knew they hated each other and wanted to piss them both off, or, she was invited because she wanted to lord over her new status, as she'd done on a previous occasion, some insult paid via her aunt being either farther behind in the train than she should have been according to rank or seated in a lower-ranking place than her niece, before Anne was Queen). However, the woman invited and in attendance, who Henry loudly (and probably drunkenly) proclaimed Anne's 'fine dowry' towards, was actually again (or, previously), Agnes Howard, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, so this demonstrates a continuity of favor, not pettiness towards an enemy.

Anyway, that's my take. I might one day post some master-list of Boleyn alliances from the period of 1528- , because my general impression is that her network of allegiances and support has been underestimated and overshadowed by the court gossip that Chapuys has reported, which doesn't even seem to be given its due parsing as far as this claim, either (for example, it seems likeliest that the identity of the man whom Anne berated for sending Henry's linen to COA so that she could make shirts from it was actually Henry Norris, "one of the principal gentlemen of the bedchamber", given that it was the Groom of the Stool who was responsible for the King's linen and shirts, so, like...Norris might have been upset and even angry about being publically berated in that manner, but was certainly not forever alienated by it, and remained a staunch Boleyn ally for the rest of his own career, regardless...so, I don't think Anne alienated most of her supporters/friends, I think at times her temper got the best of her, but she probably usually mended fences and apologized once she cooled off, such as in the case of Bridget Wingfield).

[arioloyal]

Hiii I have a request and since this one is kind of a least favorite characteristics of our dear Baldwin but uumm...

If Baldwin can be possessive/obssessive how far can he do for fem! all because his fears and insecurities?

Thanks and if you're not comfortable with this then you can ignore this

Hi! To answer your question, No human being in the world is perfect. If we want to find a defect in our king, it will be just leprosy. I don't think that obsession was something unusual for him, as he had a little memory of his mother Agnes of Courtenay as a child, and his visits to Sibylla were infrequent. So it will be normal for him to be sensitive to the most important woman in his life so that he doesn't want to lose her. Second, the fear of the siege and loss of Jerusalem will be equally worrying for him, so obsession and fear will be natural things to him, and I don't think it should be viewed as a unusual things.

Art by : me

As long as there is a flame, why should I choose black?✨️❤️‍🔥

[sunnycanvas]

Can you write about a scenario, where, Baldwin loses yn, and gets incredibly upset over it, tries to find her (but secretly because people can't know he's actually seeing someone because of his leprosy) only to find out she was killed ? Maybe he finds her body too/retrieves it

Adiuva nos, Domine, In tribulatione nostra. Te clamamus, Sancte Deus, Exaudi preces nostras

O Maria, Mater Gratiae, Tu es refugium nostrum. In tenebris et angustia, Sustenta nos, o dulcis Virgo.

Sancte Michael, protector noster, Defende nos in proelio. Contra insidias diaboli, Fidei nostrae fortitudo.

Gloria Patri et Filio, Et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, Et nunc et semper.

Baldwin IV gripped his rosary with trembling hands, his knuckles white as he prayed fervently. He prayed for your safety. It had been days since you vanished, and he was drowning in helplessness. He couldn't launch a full investigation, not without risking exposure of the bond between you. The very thought of anyone discovering what you meant to him sent a cold shiver down his spine. Baldwin understood the dangers of being associated with him. Especially now, as a leper. His condition, his cursed existence, only amplified the peril for anyone close to him. He had kept you hidden. Your presence, your existence and shielded from the world, all to protect both of you. But now, the silence stretched on, and Baldwin could feel his sanity slipping. The thought of anything happening to you, of you being hurt or worse, twisted inside him like a sharp knife. Baldwin could feel his heartbeat beating so hard that it was painful. Baldwin never knew what fear was until he met you. The thought of you being injured or worse, Baldwin wouldn't know how to live.

"No," he whispered, trying to force away the dread that clawed at his insides. "You’re safe. You have to be safe."

Just as he finished his prayer and turned around, his eyes fell upon his mother, Agnes de Courtenay. She approached him with hesitant steps, her face drawn tight with worry. Baldwin didn’t need to see her expression to know it was bad news.

"Any word?" His voice was colder than he meant it to be, a harsh edge creeping into his words.

Agnes paused, her hands wringing together as she looked down. "No, my son," she stammered, her voice faltering. "I’m doing everything I can. I swear, I—"

"Everything you can?" Baldwin cut her off, his words sharp and cutting. His frustration was boiling over, the fear for you overwhelming everything else. "Your best isn’t enough, Mother. Not when her life is on the line!". His gaze was relentless, piercing through her with the weight of his anger. "I entrusted you with this. I trusted you to keep her safe, and now look where we are no answers, no progress". "How many days must pass before you start doing what you promised?" Agnes flinched, her eyes wide with the sting of his words, but Baldwin’s gaze didn’t soften. He was beyond patience. Baldwin IV continued with his voice that cut through the air like a blade. "So, it seems her presence was discovered after all," he said, his tone ice-cold. "Mother, you’ve failed utterly in keeping her hidden, just as I entrusted you to do. Is this truly the best you can manage?" He paused, his eyes narrowing, fury flickering in them. "Perhaps I was a fool to trust you at all. I should have given the task to my uncle, someone who might actually be competent. Clearly, you can't even manage something as simple as this." His words were like a slap, and the venom in his gaze made it clear he had no room for excuses.

Agnes flinched at the sharpness in her son’s tone. She had braced herself for his wrath, but the sheer intensity still struck a chord deep within her. Yet, she wasn’t going to retreat without a fight. Gathering her courage, she straightened and replied with calm defiance. “Of course,” she began, her voice firm despite the tension in the air, “a mere noblewoman like me is no match for the Dowager Queen, your stepmother, who has been quietly maneuvering to place your half-sister Isabella on the throne. Let us not forget that Isabella holds a claim through your father.” Baldwin’s brows furrowed, confusion momentarily softening the fury etched into his features. The sudden mention of Maria Komnene was unexpected. Agnes caught the subtle shift in his demeanor, recognizing the spark of intrigue. She pressed forward without hesitation. “I have evidence,” she continued, her voice steady and deliberate, “that a woman matching (Y/N)’s description was seen in Nablus. And where does your stepmother reside? Nablus. It’s no coincidence, Baldwin.” His eyes widened, a mix of shock and desperate hope flashing across his face. Without waiting for his mother to elaborate further, he barked out a command. “Prepare the horses! We’re leaving at once.” Agnes started, alarmed by his abrupt reaction. “Baldwin, wait! The evidence we have, it’s flimsy at best. It only hints at her presence, nothing certain—”

“I don’t care!” Baldwin cut her off, his voice trembling with emotion. “If there is even the slightest chance (Y/N) is there, I will go. No matter how faint the trail may be.” Determined to avoid unnecessary attention, Baldwin insisted on going alone, without knights or a retinue. Agnes, unwilling to let her son journey into potential danger alone, argued until he relented. Exhausted from the emotional storm, Baldwin agreed with little resistance. Both mother and son disguised themselves as common travelers, cloaked in simple garb with hoods obscuring their faces.

As they rode under the cover of blazing hot sun, Baldwin’s thoughts churned in turmoil. His stepmother, Maria Komnene, had always been ambitious, but would she truly act so brazenly? He scowled beneath his hood, considering the other players in the shadowy game of politics. Could Raymond of Tripoli, his calculating cousin, be involved? Or the Ibelin brothers, notorious for their scheming alliances? His instincts told him 'No, they wouldn’t dare'. That left only one man: Guy of Lusignan, his reckless and power-hungry brother-in-law. The very thought of Guy made Baldwin’s grip tighten on the reins, rage building in his chest.

Agnes, as if sensing her son’s thoughts, spoke softly. “Do not let your mind run wild, my son. This reeks of your stepmother’s hand. She has made alliances in the court, strengthening her position. Her marriage ties to the Ibelins have been... advantageous.”

Baldwin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his silence betraying the storm within.

As they neared their destination, something caught his attention. A familiar figure moving in the distance. Baldwin’s breath hitched. “Sibylla?” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. His gaze snapped to his mother, who appeared just as stunned. Without a word, Baldwin motioned for silence, urging his horse to follow his sister at a safe distance. Agnes, still reeling, followed his lead.

Sibylla led them to a secluded area, where she dismounted and began speaking to a shadowy figure. Baldwin and Agnes dismounted as well, watching from a concealed position. “Make sure her body is disposed of in a way that it can’t be recognized,” Sibylla ordered, her voice cold and resolute. The man bowed slightly, replying grimly, “Of course, my lady. Anything else?”

Sibylla smiled, a cruel satisfied expression that sent a chill through Baldwin. “Oh no, you’ve done an absolutely fantastic job in killing (Y/N). My brother may mourn her now, but he will thank me later.”

Baldwin froze, the weight of her words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His vision blurred with a mix of fury and devastation. Then, without hesitation, he unsheathed his sword and spurred his horse forward.

"SIBYLLA!" His voice thundered, raw with fury, reverberating like a war cry that sent chills down the spines of even the most hardened knights. Agnes barely had time to reach out before her son was charging toward his sister, the blade in his hand glinting like justice itself.

Baldwin IV’s horse reared back, its hooves striking the air as his roar echoed through the desolate clearing. His blue eyes, ablaze with rage, locked onto his sister’s frozen figure. She stood trembling, her schemes exposed, with no crowd to shield her from her brother's wrath . The man standing beside Sibylla, realizing it was the king himself bearing down upon them, stumbled backward, stammering incoherent apologies before bolting into the shadows. Sibylla was left alone, her fear-stricken body rooted to the ground. Baldwin’s horse halted mere feet away from her, nostrils flaring, its king equally volatile. “I should kill you where you stand!” he bellowed about to striker her with his sword. Sybilla although fearful of her brother's wrath somehow narrowly escaped the sword stumbling backwards in fear by sheer luck. "You scheming, treacherous fool!" he growled, his voice low and deadly as he urged his horse forward ready to strike her again. "You dared to betray me?" His tone was laced with a venom that made Sibylla’s knees weaken. She stumbled backward again, her face pale, eyes wide with dread. She had never seen her brother like this, his normally composed demeanor shattered by pure, unrestrained fury. As Baldwin surged toward her, his expression promising retribution, Agnes’s voice cut through the chaos, her horse galloping into the scene as she placed herself squarely between her son and daughter. Her arms spread wide in a protective gesture, shielding Sibylla from Baldwin’s wrath.

"Baldwin, stop!" Agnes implored, her voice trembling with urgency. "You cannot do this!" “Please, Baldwin, don’t do this!”. Agnes reasoned, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her fear. She had seen her son angry before, but never like this—never so unhinged, so consumed.

Baldwin’s horse came to an abrupt halt, its hooves digging into the dirt as he glared down at his mother. His blue eyes burned with fury as he snarled, “Get out of my way, Mother.” His voice was low, trembling with restrained anger. “She doesn’t deserve your protection" "Not after what she’s done. None of you do.”

Agnes held her ground, her voice firm but laced with desperation.“(Y/N) wouldn’t want this,” she pleaded, her eyes softening.

Her words acted as a spark to dry tinder, igniting an even fiercer blaze of rage in her son. His horse snorted and shifted as he practically snarled in response. "DON’T YOU DARE BRING HER INTO THIS!" Baldwin’s voice boomed, his rage untethered. "Do not use her name to shield your guilt! You all killed her!" He gestured wildly toward Sibylla, his accusations cutting like daggers. "You, with your selfish schemes! You destroyed the only person who ever made this wretched existence tolerable!" he snapped, his voice cracking as he gestured sharply toward Sibylla. “You all killed her!

Agnes desperate in fear mumbled "Please Baldwin, you can't do this" "Killing your sister will start a civil war" "Our kingdom won't receive donations to survive by our own cousins" . Baldwin in anger retorted "Do not speak to me of what I can and cannot do, Mother! Do you think I care for appearances anymore? Do you think I care for laws or blood ties when my very own family killed her?" His voice cracked as it reached a crescendo, raw grief mingling with his fury.

Agnes's lips parted as if to argue, but Baldwin’s voice thundered again, silencing her. "She was the light of my life, the only light in this accursed kingdom of shadows. And you snuffed it out!" Sibylla, trembling and unable to meet his gaze, muttered something unintelligible, but Baldwin would not hear it. "Speak not a word to me!" he hissed, his voice lowering to a dangerous growl as he pulled his horse closer. "I should end you for what you’ve done."

His horse shifted uneasily beneath him, mirroring its master’s fury. Agnes held her ground, her hand gripping her saddle tightly to steady herself. “Baldwin, please!” she implored, her voice softer now, pleading. “Your anger won’t bring her back!” “No!” Baldwin’s shout tore through the night, his face contorting in agony. “But it will ensure justice is served! I will not let her memory be trampled on by the people who betrayed her.” Sibylla whimpered behind Agnes, tears streaming down her pale face, her voice barely audible as she tried to speak. But Baldwin ignored her, his gaze fixed on his mother as if daring her to move. “Step aside, Mother,” he warned, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “Or I swear, I’ll ride through you.”

Agnes moved her horse with determination, shielding Sibylla fully. "You are King, Baldwin. Do not let your grief destroy what she loved in you." "Your sense of duty. I am asking you, for the sake of the kingdom, to control yourself' "You know right how stability is fragile because of complex court politics right now". Agnes knew Baldwin just like her late husband Almaric was man of duty. Luckily for Agnes her trick worked and Baldwin took long labored breath to calm down Baldwin’s chest heaved as he sucked in a long, ragged breath, his fingers trembling on the hilt of his sword. His smoldering eyes burned with suppressed fury, unshed tears glistening under the hood of his cloak. Agnes knew, as much as Baldwin hated to show weakness, had his leprosy not robbed him of tears, they would be falling freely now.

Once assured that Baldwin was reigning in his rage, Agnes turned her attention to Sibylla, her face hard with disgust. “Why did you do this to (Y/N)?” she demanded, her voice like ice.

Sibylla, though visibly shaken at first, straightened her posture. She squared her shoulders, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. “I acted for the good of the kingdom,” she declared, her tone resolute. “You yourself have said how precarious the court’s balance is, especially after Father’s second marriage. (Y/N) was a poison to this realm, indulging herself with my leprous brother and leading us all to sin.” Baldwin’s fists clenched tighter at her words, his jaw set in a way that made it clear he was barely containing his rage. His voice, low and dangerous, cut through the air. “(Y/N) had no interest in court politics,” he growled, his tone trembling with anger. Agnes added swiftly, her voice icy, “Whatever schemes you think she wove, they existed only in your mind, Sibylla.” Sibylla scoffed, her confidence growing as she met her mother’s glare. “That’s what she wanted you all to believe,” she replied, a sneer curling her lips. “That whore seduced my sinful brother, wrapping him around her finger. She made herself indispensable to him, and in doing so, she threatened the delicate peace we’ve tried so hard to maintain. So, I acted.” Her voice hardened, her gaze unrepentant. “I drowned her.” Agnes gasped, her revulsion barely concealed, while Baldwin’s body tensed like a coiled spring, his fury on the verge of erupting. “Sibylla,” he warned, his voice deadly calm, “choose your next words carefully, or I will claw the very tongue from your mouth.” Agnes, sensing the explosion brewing within her son, leaned forward and hissed in a low voice to Sibylla, ensuring Baldwin couldn’t hear. “Where did you get this vile notion? Who planted these ideas in your head?” For a brief moment, Sibylla faltered, her expression shifting into something unsettling. A lovestruck reverie. Her voice softened as she whispered, “My husband told me. Guy explained everything. He opened my eyes to her true nature.”. Agnes froze, but Baldwin let out a groan of exasperation, the sound a mix of fury and dismay. He had heard enough to piece together the whispered exchange. His eyes blazed as he locked his gaze on Sibylla. The crackling silence between them spoke volumes, Baldwin’s composure hanging by a thread as he stared down the sister who had shattered his world.

“Show us her body,” Agnes commanded, her voice sharp and leaving no room for argument. To her relief, Sibylla gave no protest, silently turning to lead them toward an abandoned house. The acrid stench of death grew stronger with every step, guiding them like a trail. Baldwin dismounted his horse in silence, his face an unreadable mask. Inside the house, the smell became suffocating. It led them to a small room where (Y/N)’s body lay on a rickety bed, her lifeless form bathed in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls. Though the odor was strong, the appearance of her body was hauntingly serene, as if death had only just brushed her. Baldwin froze in the doorway, staring at her still form as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “(Y/N),” he whispered, his voice trembling. Slowly, he stepped forward, each movement heavy with disbelief and agony, until he reached the bedside. He sank to his knees, his trembling hands hovering over her face before cradling her lifeless body in his arms. His breath hitched as he took in her features the faint curve of her lips, the delicate eyelashes resting against her cheeks. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “So beautiful. You don’t look dead... only asleep.” His hand caressed her cold cheek, his touch desperate, as if his warmth alone could bring her back. “Oh, (Y/N),” Baldwin whispered, his eyes stung with unshed tears, his chest heaving with suppressed sobs. “Please... wake up. You promised me,” he pleaded, his voice raw and thick with despair. “You swore you wouldn’t leave me, not as long as I lived. You lied to me, my love... you lied...” He clutched her closer, his shoulders shaking as the grief consumed him. “You were my light... my only light in this wretched world,” he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of his sorrow. “How am I to go on without you? How am I to face the darkness without you beside me?” Wailed by his diseased dry eyes . He kissed her hair dampening by his lips. He pressed his lips to her temple, his trembling breath ghosting over her still form. Agnes stood nearby, her own heart heavy as she witnessed her son’s anguish. She had seen Baldwin face countless battles, seen him stand tall against unimaginable pain, but this, this broken man before her, was a sight she could barely bear. His grief was raw, unfiltered, and so profound it filled the room with its weight. Baldwin rocked (Y/N)’s body gently, his words becoming incoherent as sobs wracked his body. His fingers brushed through her hair as though soothing her to sleep. “Please... just one more moment,” he begged the heavens, his voice barely audible. “Let me hold her... let me hear her laugh again... her voice, her heartbeat...”His cries pierced the air, echoing through the empty house, a king brought to his knees by the unbearable loss of the woman who had been his everything. And as Baldwin cradled her lifeless form, it was as though his own heart had stopped beating alongside hers.

Sibylla watched her brother’s grief with an almost placating smile. "It’s okay, brother," she said softly, though her tone carried a trace of condescension. "Let out your grief. This sacrifice was necessary for the betterment of the kingdom." Baldwin’s trembling stopped abruptly as her words reached him. His reddened face lifted to meet her gaze, his expression hollow yet sharp, like a blade dulled by too much use but still capable of cutting. "Who else worked with you?" His voice, though low, carried the unmistakable edge of restrained fury. Sibylla straightened, confidence flickering in her anger as she retorted, "Me. I acted alone." Baldwin’s gaze didn’t waver. "So Mother didn’t know about this," he said, his words heavy with accusation. His tone made even Agnes flinch at the mention of her involvement. "No," Sibylla answered firmly. "Mother didn’t know about this." For a moment, Baldwin seemed to freeze. His grief contorted into something darker, something terrifying. His face, already ravaged by disease and despair, now carried an expression of such cold rage that even Sibylla, emboldened as she was, felt her confidence falter. When he spoke again, his voice was chilling, devoid of any humanity. "You’re going to feel what you’ve done to me. The same pain, the same torment" "You will suffer just as you made me suffer. I will make sure of it." Sibylla’s eyes narrowed, her anger surging forth like a storm. "You dare call me selfish?" she snapped. "You sit on that throne, clinging to your miserable life, bringing sin upon this kingdom by indulging in your lust for that woman! It’s you who’s selfish, Baldwin not me! You should step down and let my husband rule" "A man who is strong and capable, unlike you." Baldwin let out a bitter, humorless laugh that echoed in the small, decrepit room. "Capable? Your husband?" He sneered, his lip curling with disdain. "A coward who hides behind you to make his moves? Don’t worry, dear sister. He’ll have his time to shine" "In the dungeon. I’ll ensure he becomes intimately acquainted with every torture device we own before I execute him." Sibylla gasped, her fury boiling over. She raised a hand to strike him, but Agnes, weary of the madness around her, stepped forward and caught her wrist, shielding Baldwin with her body. "Enough!" Agnes’s voice carried the weight of her authority, silencing the escalating storm. Turning to her son, she placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "Baldwin," she said gently, "this... this isn’t what (Y/N) would have wanted. Let us focus on her, not on revenge." Her voice cracked slightly as she continued, "We should give her a proper burial. She deserves that, if nothing else." Baldwin’s breathing slowed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. His rage momentarily abated, overtaken by his grief as he looked down at (Y/N)’s body once more. "A burial," he whispered, nodding slowly, his focus entirely on the woman he loved. "Yes. She deserves that." Sibylla scoffed loudly but said nothing else, her lips pressed into a tight line. The tension in the room simmered, unspoken words and unresolved hatred hanging heavy in the air as Baldwin’s attention remained solely on (Y/N), his sorrow drowning out all else.

All three rode in solemn silence, Baldwin insisting on carrying (Y/N)’s lifeless body on his horse. No one dared argue. As they traveled back, Agnes swore she could hear Baldwin murmuring soft, sweet words to (Y/N), as if she could still hear him. She had always admired her son’s resilience and the strength of his mind, his determination to lead even as his body battled the ravages of disease. But now, watching him, Agnes feared that (Y/N)’s death might shatter him entirely, driving him into the depths of madness. They arrived at a small, secluded church under the protection of Agnes’s allies. Baldwin dismounted, his movements stiff but deliberate, and cradled (Y/N)’s body in his arms as he entered the hallowed ground. His hollow, vacant eyes met those of Patriarch Heraclius, who quickly approached with an air of confusion. Baldwin addressed the archbishop in a voice devoid of life, yet carrying the weight of an unbreakable command. "Take her body," he said, his words measured and heavy. "Ensure she is given a proper burial. On her grave, inscribe the words: ‘Light of the world for the leper.’" Heraclius froze in stunned realization, his gaze falling to the woman in Baldwin’s arms realizing that she was the lover of the leper king . Before Heraclius could respond, Agnes quickly stepped forward, leaning in to whisper firmly, "Keep her presence here a secret. Let no one know." Her voice was quiet but sharp, leaving no room for argument. Heraclius nodded, too shocked to protest, and turned to oversee the arrangements as Baldwin reluctantly placed (Y/N) down for the last time. Once outside, Agnes found her son standing near the churchyard, staring blankly into the distance as if searching for something beyond the horizon. His voice broke the silence, low and filled with a crushing sorrow. "As much as I speak of revenge, I know it is impossible. My actions would destroy the kingdom." He paused, the grief in his tone cutting through Agnes like a blade. "I couldn’t protect her in life, and now I’ve failed her in death. But I will protect the kingdom she loved. At least... when I meet her again, I can tell her I wasn’t a complete failure." Agnes reached out and rested her hand gently on his shoulder, her voice soft but resolute. "The fault lies with me as well. We both failed her, my son. But for your sake and hers, I swear to you—I will ensure that Sibylla and her husband never sit on the throne. Her son, your nephew, will rule instead. I will see to it." For the first time since (Y/N)’s death, a faint glimmer of relief flickered in Baldwin’s eyes. He turned to his mother, his voice regaining a trace of its usual sharpness. "Yes, you are right. This kingdom must not be ruled by (Y/N)’s murderer." His expression hardened. "I entrust you with this, Mother. Convince the Haute Cour. Do not fail me as you did before."

Agnes straightened her posture, her voice carrying a quiet determination. "I won’t. I promise you that."

[baldwinivmybeloved]

( ✿ ) ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ᭄᭡ ͏ ͏ Charper Twenty Three ͏ ͏ 00:00 Xica x Baldwin IV

The sun began to rise on the horizon, bathing the desert landscape in its soft light. Xica, still dazed by recent events, was once again forced to dress in servant's clothes. Her captors showed no compassion as they pushed her towards a horse-drawn carriage where other slaves were seated.

Xica looked around with eyes full of despair and fear. Some of the slaves recognized her immediately, whispers of "the Queen of Jerusalem" spreading quickly among them. There was worry and confusion on their faces, but they could do little more than care for her as best they could.

"Queen Xica, what happened?" asked an elderly woman with a trembling voice. "How did you end up here?"

Xica sighed, trying to stay calm. "I was kidnapped," she replied in a subdued voice. "They're trying to cause trouble between Jerusalem and the Saracens."

A young slave girl sitting near Xica noticed her pallor and discomfort. "Ma'am, you don't look well," she said worriedly. "Is there anything we can do to help you?"

Xica lowered her gaze, placing a hand on her belly. "I'm pregnant," she revealed in a whisper. "I found out just before being kidnapped."

The slaves looked at each other, concerned. The news increased the gravity of the situation. A middle-aged woman who seemed experienced in care approached Xica and offered her some water.

"You must stay strong for your child, my lady," she said softly. "We will do everything we can to care for you."

Meanwhile, in the castle of Jerusalem, Agnes of Courtenay and Reynald de Châtillon were meeting in a private room, discussing their dark plans. Agnes coughed intermittently but tried to maintain an appearance of firmness.

"We must convince Baldwin that the Saracens are responsible for the kidnapping," Agnes said sternly. "This will spark the war we need."

Reynald nodded, his gaze calculating. "Exactly. And with the queen gone, it will be easier to manipulate the king."

What they didn't know was that Genoveva, locked in a nearby cell, had overheard the entire conversation. Her mind worked quickly, searching for a way to alert Baldwin.

Baldwin IV, on the other hand, was on the brink of despair. Xica's disappearance had left him anguished and enraged. Despite his weakened condition, he remained active, organizing search parties and sending messengers to every corner of the kingdom.

"We must find her, and quickly," he ordered his commanders. "We will not rest until Xica is safe."

His mind was consumed by fear and uncertainty, and anger drove him onward. In his heart, he couldn't bear the thought of losing Xica, especially now that they were beginning to build a life together.

Meanwhile, the slave caravan continued its journey, slowly moving across the desert. Xica cried out in a moment of desperation, hoping someone would hear her pleas. One of the captors, annoyed by the noise, struck her hard.

"Shut up!" he ordered, but several slaves intervened, protecting Xica.

"She's pregnant," one of them protested. "You can't treat her like that."

Reluctantly, the captors backed off, allowing the slaves to give Xica water and help her stay as comfortable as possible.

"Thank you," Xica murmured, feeling a mixture of gratitude and despair. She knew her situation was critical, but she also knew she had to be strong, not just for herself but for the child she carried inside her.

Baldwin, exhausted but determined, continued to give orders. Troops and spies had been sent in every possible direction. In a moment of respite, he leaned on a table, his mind consumed with worry.

Agnes, feigning concern, entered the room. "My son, you must rest," she said softly. "You're not doing yourself any good by exhausting yourself like this."

Baldwin looked at her with eyes full of desperation. "I can't rest. Not until Xica is safe."

Agnes pretended to shed a tear. "I will pray for her return. But for now, you must stay strong."

The slave caravan moved slowly, and Xica looked at the horizon, hoping for a miracle. The slaves around her tried to keep her spirits high and her body strong.

"We must have faith," said the woman who had given her water. "King Baldwin will find you. He will not allow anything bad to happen to his queen."

Xica nodded, trying to find comfort in those words. But with each passing day, the worry grew in her heart. She knew her kidnapping had a darker purpose, and she feared for Baldwin's safety and the entire kingdom.

Baldwin, on the other hand, continued without rest. News of Xica's kidnapping had spread, and the kingdom was in a state of alert. Searches intensified, but time seemed to be against them.

In his mind, Baldwin clung to hope. He remembered Xica's words, her love and strength, and that drove him to keep going. He couldn't allow her to suffer more, and he would do everything in his power to bring her back.

Meanwhile, Genoveva, in her cell, continued to listen to Agnes and Reynald's plans. She knew she had to find a way to alert Baldwin. Her mind worked quickly, searching for a way to send a message without being discovered.

Amid the chaos and despair, determination and love continued to be the guiding forces for everyone. Baldwin, despite his weakness, remained steadfast in his search. Xica, despite her fear, continued to fight for her life and that of her child. And in everyone's hearts, hope and faith remained alive, guiding them through the darkness.

The sun continued its course across the sky, marking the slow passage of time in the slave caravan. Xica, still hoping to be rescued, tried to maintain her calm and composure. The previous night, she had a disturbing dream where her hands were covered in blood, a premonition she couldn't shake from her mind.

The caravan stopped to rest, and the slaves settled as best they could on the harsh desert sand. An elderly woman with wise eyes, who seemed to have seen too much in her life, approached Xica. Her dark, deep eyes revealed an ancient wisdom.

“May I sit with you?” the woman asked.

Xica nodded, grateful for the company. “Of course.”

The old woman settled beside her and studied her intently. “I have heard about you, Queen Xica. I am Sira, a seer from distant lands. I can see things that others cannot.”

Xica frowned, intrigued. “What do you see?”

Sira took Xica’s hand and studied it carefully. “I see many things, child. I see danger, but I also see hope. I see two small lives growing in your womb.”

Xica gasped. “Two lives? Do you mean that I’m…?”

“You are expecting twins,” Sira confirmed with a warm smile. “Two souls that will change the fate of many.”

The revelation filled Xica with a mix of joy and concern. Knowing she was carrying twins made her feel more vulnerable, but it also gave her a new reason to fight.

Meanwhile, in Jerusalem, Baldwin IV found no rest. Xica’s absence wore him down emotionally and physically. His steps echoed through the castle halls as he conferred with his advisors, desperately seeking a clue.

“We must send more troops to search for her,” Baldwin insisted, his voice firm despite his weakness. “We cannot stop until we find her.”

Agnes of Courtenay seized the moment to sow more discord. “Son, the Saracens are to blame. We must strike before it’s too late.”

Baldwin looked at her distrustfully. “I will not make hasty decisions, mother. I will speak with Salahaddin first. I will not start a war without concrete evidence.”

Agnes pressed her lips together, frustrated, but pretended to understand. “As you wish, Baldwin. But remember, time is not on our side.”

In a dark and damp cell, Genoveva found herself alone, her thoughts swirling around what she had overheard. Suddenly, she heard footsteps, and Tobiah appeared, his expression stern.

“What do you want, Genoveva?” he asked impatiently.

“Tobiah, you must listen to me,” she replied urgently. “I know who is behind Xica’s kidnapping. It wasn’t the Saracens. It was Agnes and Reynald.”

Tobiah frowned, incredulous. “How can you be so sure? Why should I believe you?”

“I overheard their plans. They’re trying to manipulate the king into attacking the Saracens. If we don’t do something, there will be a war based on lies.”

Tobiah hesitated, but the intensity in Genoveva’s eyes made him reconsider. “I’ll need proof. I can’t act on words alone.”

“Then help me find it,” Genoveva pleaded. “We must stop this before it’s too late.”

Back in the caravan, the captors maintained strict vigilance. However, the slaves banded together to care for Xica, providing her with water and food as much as possible. The news of her pregnancy had spread, and everyone knew they had to protect her at all costs.

One day, while resting in the shade of a rock, Xica felt dizzy again. Sira, the seer, approached with a bowl of water.

“You must stay strong, for yourself and your children,” Sira said, her voice soft but firm. “Help will come, I know it.”

Xica nodded, trying to hold on to hope. “Thank you, Sira. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sira smiled. “You are not alone, my queen. We are all with you here.”

In Jerusalem, the search for Xica continued relentlessly. Baldwin, despite his weakness, kept leading the operations, refusing to succumb to exhaustion. Every time he felt his strength wane, he thought of Xica and the love that bound them.

Agnes, on the other hand, kept pushing for military action. “Son, you can’t wait any longer. The Saracens are a threat, and we must act.”

Baldwin looked at her coldly. “I will not start a war based on assumptions, mother. I will speak with Salahaddin first.”

Agnes feigned resignation but inside seethed with frustration. Her plans seemed to be unraveling, and she knew she had to act quickly to maintain control.

Genoveva, still in her cell, kept trying to convince Tobiah. Every visit was an opportunity to plant more doubts in his mind.

“Tobiah, you know I’m right,” she insisted. “Agnes and Reynald are playing with the fate of Jerusalem. If we don’t do something, we’re doomed.”

Tobiah looked at her skeptically, but Genoveva’s words began to sink in. “If what you say is true, we’ll need proof. We can’t act without it.”

“Then help me find it,” Genoveva replied. “Together, we can stop this madness.”

The caravan moved slowly, and each day was a struggle for survival. Xica clung to the hope of being rescued, though uncertainty gnawed at her insides. Whenever the captors mistreated her, the slaves intervened, protecting her and offering support.

One night, while resting, Sira approached Xica again. “I had a vision,” she said quietly. “I see a brave man, a king, desperately searching for his queen. He will not give up until he finds you.”

Xica smiled weakly. “Baldwin will not give up. I know it. But I worry about what they might do to him while I’m gone.”

Sira nodded. “You must stay strong, for yourself and your children. Hope is all we have in these dark times.”

In Jerusalem, the situation grew tenser. Baldwin, despite his deteriorating condition, kept fighting to find Xica. Agnes, however, seized every opportunity to try to influence the king’s decisions.

“Son, you can’t wait any longer,” she insisted. “The Saracens won’t wait to attack.”

Baldwin looked at her with determination. “I will not start a war without proof. First, I will speak with Salahaddin. And if I find that someone within these walls has betrayed Jerusalem, they will pay with their life.”

Agnes paled but maintained her composure. “As you wish, Baldwin. But time is running out.”

In Genoveva’s cell, Tobiah finally relented. “Alright, Genoveva. I will help you find the proof we need. But if this is a trick, it will be you who pays the price.”

Genoveva nodded, grateful. “You won’t regret it, Tobiah. Together, we can save Jerusalem.”

The caravan continued its course, and Xica, though weakened, held on to hope. The slaves around her had become her temporary family, protecting and caring for her as best they could.

“Don’t worry, my queen,” one of the slaves said. “You will soon be back home with your king.”

Xica nodded, trying to stay strong. She knew her love for Baldwin and her hope were the only things keeping her going. And with each passing day, her determination to return to Jerusalem and save her family grew stronger.

Baldwin, exhausted but determined, pressed on with the search. Every step he took was a battle against his weakened body, but he couldn’t afford to give up. The image of Xica and his love for her drove him forward.

Finally, Baldwin made a decision. “I will send a messenger to Salahaddin. We need to talk and clear this up before things get out of control.”

Agnes tried to dissuade him once more, but Baldwin was resolute. He knew that the peace of Jerusalem and Xica’s safety depended on his ability to handle the situation with wisdom and justice.

Night fell over the desert, and the caravan stopped to rest. Xica, surrounded by the slaves who had become her protectors, looked at the starry sky with a mix of hope and despair.

“Baldwin, wherever you are, be strong,” she murmured. “I’m waiting for you.”

And with that hope in her heart, Xica prepared to face another day in the fight for her freedom and that of her unborn children.

[princepotatosack]

Hello one and all and welcome to the The Duchess Affair name post. This is a list of period-accurate given names you can give your MC if you need some inspiration or want to know what kinds of names ladies had back then. I've combed through the 1809 edition of Debrett's Peerage for names of noblewomen in the 1600s and 1700s in Britain, which is where I'm taking the liberty of assuming TDA is set.

As always, you can drop any questions in my inbox, I love love love playing reference librarian :-)

Most names in this period either came from the Bible or from literature. The Bible was the most common book owned and read, so Biblical names were frequently seen. Some nobles liked to show off how cultured and educated they were by naming their children after mythological figures or characters from poetry and history, but most people of all classes named children after ancestors or loved ones (which explains why it seems like it was the same dozen names getting passed around again and again.)

Very common names -- the majority of women back then had one of these names:

Anne

Caroline

Catharine (not a typo – this was the standard spelling in the 1700s!)

Charlotte

Diana

Elizabeth

Frances

Georgiana

Henrietta

Isabella

Jane

Louisa

Margaret

Maria (pronounced like “Mariah”)

Martha

Mary

Sarah

Sophia

Less common but not unheard-of names:

Agnes

Alathea

Albinia/Albina

Alicia/Alice

Amelia/ Emilia/Emily

Arabella

Augusta

Barbara

Bridget

Cassandra

Cecilia/Cecily

Clarissa

Constance/Constantia

Dorothea/Dorothy

Eleanor

Emma

Gertrude

Grace

Harriet/Harriott

Hester

Honora/Honoria

Jemima

Judith

Julia

Juliana

Lavinia

Laetitia/Letitia

Laura

Lucy

Marianna/Marianne

Matilda

Penelope

Priscilla

Rachael

Rebecca

Susan/Susanna/Susannah

Theodosia

Theresa

Thomasina/Thomasine

Rarities and oddities -- I only came across these names once or twice each, use them to add a bit of flavor and eccentricity!!!:

Abigail

Amabel/Amabella

Amantha

Anastasia

Angelica

Annabella

Antonia

Araminta

Beatrix

Camilla

Christiana/Christina

Clara

Clementia/Clementina

Dulcibella

Esme

Ethelred

Eugenia

Felicia

Flavia

Flora

Florentia

Frederica

Gabriella

Helen/Helena

Horatia

Josepha

Leonora

Madelina

Margaretta

Narcissa

Octavia

Olivia

Philadelphia

Rose

Selina

Sibella/Sibilla/Sibylla

Tryphena

Urania

Winifred

And just for fun, some extremely British sounding surnames I found that made me chuckle aristocratically:

Beckington

Cavendish

Chatham

Courtenay

Dalrymple

Darlington

Fortescue

Gainsborough

Kingscote

Lovelace

Mountstuart

Ogilvie

Pembroke

Pierrepont

Posonby

Tattershall

Twisleton

Wentworth

Willoughby

Wriothesley

[roamingbadger]

I was lucky enough to be tagged by @saecookie to name 10 songs with 10 names in the titles that I like, and then tag 10 other people to do the same. Feast your ears:

Dorian by Agnes Obel - currently obsessed

Natalie by Bell X1 - History is written by the winners / and I want my say

Francesca by Hozier - I was going to quote my favorite line but it's honestly just the whole chorus, it makes me ASCEND

La Valse d'Amélie - Version piano by Yann Tiersen - Honestly this whole soundtrack is a dreamlike wonder but at about 1:20 this song makes me want to cry at the beautiful sadness of life

Eve Is the Apple of My Eye by Bell X1 - Can't you see the grass is greener where it rains?

Lazy Line Painter Jane by Belle & Sebastian - Absolute underrated banger

Tom Courtenay - Acoustic Version by Yo La Tengo - Soft and gentle but painful like a needle prick

My Brother Tom, The Green Beret by Frightened Rabbit - Had to include FR on this list. If you see Tom on here twice no you don't actually

For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her by Simon & Garfunkel - I mean this song is like falling in love on foggy Victorian streets, it MUST be on here

Wandering Aengus by Johnny Flynn - A jaunty beaut.

I thought this would be incredibly difficult, but it was actually easy and I probably left out my favorite song ever. I sense imminent regret. BUT I had fun, and the resulting playlist is a great summary of my "vibe" I think. I tag @jesusbuchananbarnes @hemnalini @tigerofsummer @oneiro-nautical @maidenvault @sheet-metal-memories @captain-fflewddurfflam @dandelionpie @randomblabdom @ravenpuffheadcanons and as always, if you think these are unfun, please skip; if you think these are FUN, please JOIN. :D

[alexlacquemanne]

Octobre MMXXIII

Films

Le miroir se brisa (The Mirror Crack'd) (1980) de Guy Hamilton avec Angela Lansbury, Geraldine Chaplin, Tony Curtis, Edward Fox, Rock Hudson, Kim Novak, Elizabeth Taylor, Wendy Morgan et Margaret Courtenay

L'Homme de Rio (1964) de Philippe de Broca avec Jean-Paul Belmondo, Françoise Dorléac, Jean Servais, Milton Ribeiro, Simone Renant, Adolfo Celi, Ubiracy De Oliveira, Roger Dumas et Daniel Ceccaldi

Opération Dragon (Enter the Dragon) (1973) de Robert Clouse avec Bruce Lee, John Saxon, Jim Kelly, Ahna Capri, Shih Kien, Bob Wall, Angela Mao et Betty Chung

Le Grand Bain (2018) de Gilles Lellouche avec Mathieu Amalric, Guillaume Canet, Benoît Poelvoorde, Jean-Hugues Anglade, Philippe Katerine, Félix Moati, Alban Ivanov, Balasingham Thamilchelvan, Virginie Efira et Leïla Bekhti

Bernadette (2023) de Léa Domenach avec Catherine Deneuve, Denis Podalydès, Michel Vuillermoz, Sara Giraudeau, Laurent Stocker, François Vincentelli, Lionel Abelanski, Artus, Scali Delpeyrat et Barbara Schulz

Gaz de France (2015) de Benoît Forgeard avec Olivier Rabourdin, Philippe Katerine, Alka Balbir, Antoine Gouy, Philippe Laudenbach, Darius, Jean-Luc Vincent et Élizabeth Mazev

Mariage à l'italienne (Matrimonio all'italiana) (1964) de Vittorio De Sica avec Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, Aldo Puglisi, Tecla Scarano, Marilù Tolo, Enzo Aita, Gianni Ridolfi et Generoso Cortini

Adieu poulet (1975) de Pierre Granier-Deferre avec Lino Ventura, Patrick Dewaere, Victor Lanoux, Julien Guiomar, Pierre Tornade, Françoise Brion, Claude Rich et Claude Brosset

Des hommes d'honneur (A Few Good Men) (1992) de Rob Reiner avec Tom Cruise, Jack Nicholson, Demi Moore, Kevin Bacon, Kiefer Sutherland, Kevin Pollak, James Marshall et J. T. Walsh

La Vie de château (1966) de Jean-Paul Rappeneau avec Philippe Noiret, Catherine Deneuve, Pierre Brasseur, Mary Marquet, Henri Garcin, Carlos Thompson et Marc Dudicourt

Tout ce que le ciel permet (All That Heaven Allows) (1955) de Douglas Sirk avec Jane Wyman, Rock Hudson, Agnes Moorehead, Conrad Nagel, Virginia Grey, Gloria Talbott, William Reynolds et Charles Drake

L'Attentat (1972) de Yves Boisset avec Jean-Louis Trintignant, Michel Piccoli, Jean Seberg, Gian Maria Volonté, Michel Bouquet, Bruno Cremer, Daniel Ivernel, Philippe Noiret, François Périer et Roy Scheider

Chaplin (1992) de Richard Attenborough avec Robert Downey Jr., Geraldine Chaplin, Paul Rhys, John Thaw, Milla Jovovich, Moira Kelly, Anthony Hopkins, Dan Aykroyd et Marisa Tomei

L’Évadé d’Alcatraz (Escape from Alcatraz) (1979) de Don Siegel avec Clint Eastwood, Patrick McGoohan, Roberts Blossom, Fred Ward, Jack Thibeau, Paul Benjamin et Larry Hankin

Les Sorcières d'Eastwick (The Witches of Eastwick) (1987) de George Miller avec Jack Nicholson, Cher, Susan Sarandon, Michelle Pfeiffer, Veronica Cartwright et Richard Jenkins

Bird (1988) de Clint Eastwood avec Forest Whitaker, Diane Venora, Michael Zelniker, Samuel E. Wright, Keith David, Michael McGuire et James Handy

Wolf (1994) de Mike Nichols avec Jack Nicholson, Michelle Pfeiffer, James Spader, Kate Nelligan, Richard Jenkins, Christopher Plummer et Eileen Atkins

Séries

Brokenwood Saison 8

Du berceau au tombeau - Sortie de scène - Du rififi au paradis - L’homme qui valait 6 dollars - L’or ne fait pas le bonheur

Affaires sensibles

Massacre du Bloody Sunday : la vérité 38 ans après - Bobby Sands, destin tragique d’un héros de l'indépendance Irlandaise - 1979, ils ont assassiné l’oncle de la Reine Elizabeth II - Les Malouines : bataille navale dans l’Atlantique Sud - La chute de la Dame de fer - « La Dame de fer, le Roi Arthur et la grève des Mineurs » - Dr Goldman et Mister Sachs - Elizabeth Holmes, l’arnaqueuse de la Silicon Valley - 13 mai 1981 : le jour où on a voulu tuer le pape Jean-Paul II - Tuer de Gaulle, l'attentat du Petit-Clamart - Bugaled Breizh : un naufrage en eaux troubles - Le monstre du Loch Ness, un animal merveilleusement insaisissable

Inspecteur Barnaby Saison 13, 16

Meurtres sur mesure - L'épée de Guillaume - Du sang sur les éperons - Les Fantômes de March Magna - La Musique en héritage - Mort par K.O. - La Bataille des urnes - Régime fatal - Les meurtres de Copenhague

Coffre à Catch

#135 : Christian est de retour !!! - #136 - Christian veut le titre de Jack Swagger - #137 : DANS LE MAIN EVENT: Christian nouveau champion ECW ? - #138 : Kane contre le Boogeyman + Santino à la ECW ! - #139 : Le jour où Triple H débarque chez Randy Orton !

Happy Days Saison 3, 4

Un locataire encombrant - La Bécane de Fonzie - Fonzie le téméraire : première partie - Fonzie le téméraire : deuxième partie - Une de trouvée et dix de perdues - Œil pour œil, poing pour poing - Une famille contestataire - Les Quarante-cinq ans d'Howard - Fonzie fait la loi - Cours de drague - Les Vacances de Pâques - La Soirée hawaïenne - Quatorze ans trois quarts - Chagrin d'amour - Un tango pour Fonzie - Représentant ou dresseur de fauves - Baby sitting - Fonzie Superstar - Qui sera le pigeon ? - Le Concours de beauté - Spike fait des bêtises - Fonzie porte des lunettes - Le Mariage d'Arnold - Fonzie est amoureux : première partie - Fonzie est amoureux : deuxième partie - Fonzie est amoureux : troisème partie - Fonzie chez le psychiatre - Pas de panique, restons cool ! - Une dette envers Potsie - Richie s'émancipe - Marathon de danse - Richie grand reporter - Fonzie et le shérif - Nouvelle conquête - Le Rendez-vous de Fonzie - Nuit d'enfer dans une remise - La Soirée des records - La gloire est éphémère

Castle Saison 3

Un homme en colère - Tranches de mort - Eau trouble - Le Tueur de L.A. - Mort d'une miss / La Mort d’une miss - La Traque

Top Gear Saison 21

Nostalgie des années 80 - Road Trip à Tchernobyl - Abu Dhabi, Du Sable dans le Carbu ! - Mercedes, folle du désert - Destination Thaïlande - Un pont sur la rivière Kwaï

Alexandre Ehle Saison 4

Cœur de pierre - Puzzle au zoo

Sous contrôle Saison 1

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3 - Episode 4 - Episode 5 - Episode 6

Parlement Saison 3

On ne peut plus rien dire - Le background - Ego to absolvo - Le grand départ - Super pro Brexit - Riders - You shall not pass - Comme le disait Jean Monnet - Fish and ships - Europe, the musical

Les Petits meurtres d'Agatha Christie 70's Saison 3

En un claquement de doigt

Kaamelott Livre III

Le Jour d’Alexandre - La Cassette II - Poltergeist - Les Paris II - Au Bonheur des Dames - Les Tourelles - Cuisine et Dépendances - Arthur sensei - Le Solitaire - Les Festivités - La Menace fantôme - La Coopération - L’Empressée

Spectacles

Les inoubliables : les plus grandes BO du cinéma italien (2023) par le Radici orchestra, Céline Laborie, Simona Boni et Rocco Femia

Livres

OSS 117 : Délire en Iran de Jean Bruce

Lucky Luke : Tome 26 : Nitroglycérine de Morris et Lo Hartog van Banda

Le Chat : Tome 4 : Le Quatrième Chat de Philippe Geluck

Détective Conan : Tome 14 de Gôshô Aoyama

Détective Conan : Tome 15 de Gôshô Aoyama

Spirou et Fantasio : Tome 7 : Le Dictateur et le champignon de Franquin

Astérix : Tome 40 : L'Iris Blanc de Fabcaro et Didier Conrad

Détective Conan : Tome 16 de Gôshô Aoyama

Jack Palmer : Tome 12 : L'enquête corse de René Pétillon

Détective Conan : Tome 17 de Gôshô Aoyama

[vksehfk11]

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 링크<<

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라마

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라마

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라마

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라마

판도라 조작된 낙원 12화 다시 보기 12회 e12 (드라마

Fulk V, Count of Anjou, married Melisande, the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Jerusalem in 1129, entrusted the territory to his eldest son Geoffroy,[2] and moved to Jerusalem, where he became co-king in 1131. He sought to strengthen the authority of his wife, Melisande, and clashed with the faction of lords descended from the crusader commanders. They had two sons, Baudouin and Amory. Fulk fell from a horse while hunting in 1143, fell into a critical condition and died shortly thereafter.

Baldwin, who was 13 at the time of succession, ascends the throne as Baldwin III. Because of her age, her mother Mélisande acted as regent, but when she did not give up full power even after reaching adulthood, she divided her kingdom into north and south, waged a civil war, and forced her mother to retire. Afterwards, he occupied Ascalon, gained a bridgehead to Egypt, married Theodora, the niece of Manuel I of the Eastern Roman Empire, and tried to ally with him.

Amor was married to Agnes of Courtenay and had three children, Sibylla, Baldwin and Alix (who died in infancy). was against it Instead of divorcing Agnes, Amory made Sibylla and Baldwin recognized as deficits, and separated from Agnes on the pretext that her great-great-grandfathers were the same. After that, Amor tried to expand his power like his brother by marrying Maria Komnini, a member of the Eastern Roman Empire and the imperial family, while attempting to invade Egypt's Fatimid dynasty. Returned to inaction by Dean, he died of dysentery in 1174.

His eldest son, Baldwin, ascended the throne as Baldwin IV, but at the time he was a patient with leprosy, an incurable disease. Therefore, he tried to stabilize the kingdom by marrying his sister Sibylla to a powerful nobleman. The first marriage partner was Guglielmo of the Alleramicci family, the eldest son of the Marquis of Montferrato, but when he died of malaria, leaving only her heir, Baldwin, she became Guy de Rue. He married Jinyang again and made her regent. Baldwin IV, suffering from illness and repeating battles and truces with Saladin, who became the ruler of Egypt, designated Baldwin, his maternal nephew, who was the surviving son of Sibylla and Guglielmo, as his successor and died young at the age of 24.

After the death of Baldwin, his sister Sibylla and her half-sister Isabella, who was born to Amor and Maria Komnini, sometimes became queen, but the wives ruled. He was only 8 years old, and at the same time a sickly child, he died after a year, and his mother, Sibylla, received the crown.

Meanwhile, Amor I's new wife, Maria Komnini, remarried her amorite, to Balian of Belin, who was a nobleman opposed to Sibylla and Guy de Lusignan. Balian worked with Raymond of Tripoli, who was the regent of King Baldwin V, to try to establish his stepdaughter, Princess Isabel, and her husband, Honfroi of Toron, as kings. loyal and fail After the loss of Jerusalem in the aftermath of the Battle of Hattin and the death of Sibylla in 1190, Balian divorced Isabel and remarried Corrado of Montferrato.

Corrado, the younger brother of Sibylla's first husband, Guglielmo, had a track record of defending Tire from Saladin's attack, and was favored by the lords rather than incompetent. Philip II of France, who came from the Third Crusade, also supported Corrado, and Richard I of England supported him on the contrary, but in the end, at the council of nobles in 1192, he had to recognize Corrado as the next king of Jerusalem. Corrado, who became co-king with her wife Isabel and Conrad I, was assassinated by Assassin in less than a month.

Isabel married two more times as if she was being sold after that, but she could not see her son who would be her successor. Maria married Jean de Brienne in 1212. She gave birth to Isabella II at the age of 21 and died of childbirth fever shortly after.

[nanshe-of-nina]

Historical Fiction GIF sets|| Prologue of The Land Beyond the Sea by Sharon Kay Penman

“My lady? Do you think your lord husband will be back soon?”

Agnes blinked as her past receded and her present came into focus again. “I expect so, Mabilla.” She knew her ladies assumed she was daydreaming of her golden future, and why not? She was finally to be rewarded for all the sacrifices she’d made, for all she’d lost. King Baldwin had suddenly sickened and his doctors could not save him. He’d died five days ago, leaving behind a grieving young widow but no children. The heir to the throne was his brother, Amalric. It was true that the crown was elective, not strictly hereditary, yet Agnes saw that as a formality. Amalric was meeting now with the High Court, composed of the barons of the realm. By week’s end, he would be crowned and she would be Queen of Jerusalem.

Sitting on a coffer, Agnes relaxed as Mabilla unpinned her hair. It reached to her waist in a swirl of pale gold. Amalric often said it was a pity that women could not venture out in public with their hair uncovered; he was proud of having such a desirable wife and enjoyed the envy he saw in the eyes of other men. Agnes decided she would wear it loose at her coronation, as only queens and virgin brides could do, and for a moment, she envisioned her long, flowing hair graced with a jeweled crown—the ultimate accessory, she thought with a smile.

Amalric returned as the city’s church bells were chiming for Vespers. He strode into the chamber, glanced at the women, and said, “Out.” As they fled, Agnes’s eyebrows rose. Even for Amalric, who was taciturn on his best days, that was unusually rude.

Agnes got to her feet, studying him with a puzzled frown. For a man who’d just been given a crown, he did not look very happy. “How did the High Court session go? Is it settled?”

“Yes, it is settled.” He moved restlessly around the chamber, like a man in unfamiliar surroundings, and he’d yet to meet her gaze. “It did not go as I expected.”

gaze. “It did not go as I expected.” Agnes had rarely seen him so tense. “Surely they chose you as the next king?”

“They agreed to recognize my claim to the crown.” He paused and then raised his head, looking her in the face for the first time since entering the chamber. “But they would only do so if I end our marriage, for they will not accept you as queen.”

Agnes stared at him in disbelief. “You . . . you are not serious?”

Amalric had been seething since his confrontation with the High Court, and it was a relief now to have a target for that rage. “You think I would jest about this? The patriarch insisted our marriage is invalid because we are related within the forbidden fourth degree. He even raised your plight troth with Ibelin again. And the barons backed him up. I could tell the whoresons were enjoying it, too, getting to play kingmaker!”

Agnes was desperately trying to make sense of this. “The Church often gives dispensations for consanguinity. Why could the papal legate not issue one for us?”

“You think I did not point that out? The legate refused to consider it. He agreed with the patriarch that we’d been living in sin and I could not be crowned until I put you aside.”

Agnes’s body was reacting as if she’d taken a physical blow, her breath quickening, her knees going weak. But her brain was still numbed, still struggling to comprehend. “Why?”

Amalric shook his head impatiently. “They all acted as if their motives were as pure as newly fallen snow, that they cared only to make right this grievous wrong. But I know better. Our bishops were punishing me for defying the patriarch by marrying you. And the barons wanted to assert their authority over me, to show me that I owed my kingship to them.” He gave Agnes a look that was oddly accusatory, as if their predicament were somehow her fault. “Baudouin d’Ibelin was amongst the most vocal; clearly he still bears a grudge against me for claiming his brother’s bride. Christ Jesus, that was nigh on six years ago!”

“And . . . and you agreed, Amalric?” She sounded so stunned that he flushed, his hands clenching into fists. She’d later realize that much of his anger was defensive, that he was ashamed of yielding to the High Court’s demands. Now she was aware only of her own anger, her own pain, and her searing sense of betrayal. “How could you? By denying the legality of our marriage, you made your own children bastards!”

“No,” he said sharply, “I would never let that happen. I insisted upon a papal dispensation, recognizing their legitimacy even if the marriage itself is invalid.”

“I see. You found the backbone to defend your son and daughter, but not your wife!”

“I had no choice. They told me that if I did not agree to their terms, they would offer the crown to my cousin Raymond, the Count of Tripoli.”

“You owed me better than this, Amalric!”

He gave a shrug and then the brutal truth. “You are not worth a crown, Agnes.”

She flinched and then said, very low, “God will punish you for this.”

He shrugged again. “You can continue to call yourself the Countess of Jaffa.”

“How generous,” she jeered. “Are you going to give me Jaffa as my dower?”

“Of course not.”

“That is not unreasonable,” she said, gritting her teeth to keep from shrieking. “Your brother’s widow was given Acre as her dower.”

“She is a Greek princess.”

His matter-of-fact tone was the ultimate insult. She felt so much hatred that she feared she might choke on it. “Will it not shame you, my lord king, to have your former wife begging for her bread by the side of the road?”

He was stung by her sarcasm. “The children will remain with me, of course.”

“No!”

“Surely you’d have expected that. Sons are never left in their mothers’ care for long.”

“They are until age seven. Baldwin is not yet two!” When he did not bother to argue, she realized there was no hope. “And Sybilla? You cannot take them both away from me!”

“Do not play the bereft mother, Agnes. I am willing for you to see the children.” If you cooperate, if you do as you’re told. The threat was an unspoken one, for it did not need to be put into words. Agnes had begun to tremble. She sank down on the edge of the bed, her face blanched. She looked so devastated that Amalric found himself wanting to tell her that he was sorry, that this was not his fault. He said nothing, for if she knew he felt guilty, she’d use that knowledge to coax him into letting her have Sybilla. It was not a risk he was willing to take; he feared she’d pour poison into the little girl’s ear, turning her against him.

“I have also asked the papal legate for a dispensation absolving you of any moral blame for entering into an invalid marriage,” he said at last, and Agnes raised her head to stare at him.

“How magnanimous of you, Amalric! And what a short memory you have. Have you truly forgotten that you coerced my consent?”

“That is nonsense! You were as eager as I for the match, for you saw that I could offer you much more than d’Ibelin.” No longer feeling pity for her plight, he started for the door.

Seeing that he was about to walk out of their bedchamber, out of her life, Agnes panicked. “For the love of God, how can you abandon me like this? What am I supposed to do?”

He halted, his hand on the door latch. “Hugh d’Ibelin did not marry after paying his ransom and regaining his freedom. Mayhap he’ll take you back.”

[baldwinivmybeloved]

𐙚⠀Charper Twenty Two .·:*¨¨*:·.⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐇 Xica X Baldwin IV

The days passed slowly, and Xica began to notice a persistent discomfort. Dizziness was frequent, and nausea towards certain foods became increasingly evident. Initially, she attributed it to fatigue. After all, she and Baldwin had had very active nights lately, nights full of love and passion.

One morning, while in the living room, dizziness took her by surprise. Holding onto the edge of a table, Xica took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She felt the world spinning around her, but decided not to alarm Baldwin. She didn't want to worry him more than necessary.

Meanwhile, in a secluded room of the castle, Reynald de Châtillon and Agnes of Courtenay were conspiring in whispers. Agnes's cold gaze met Reynald's calculating one.

"The only way to weaken Baldwin and regain control is to get rid of her," Reynald said firmly. "We'll stage a fake kidnapping and send Xica in a slave caravan to Portugal. No one will know what really happened."

Agnes nodded, her eyes filled with determination. Though she coughed frequently, she tried to hide it. Her disdain for Xica and her thirst for power outweighed any concern for her health.

"Make sure everything is ready for tomorrow," Agnes ordered. "We'll make Baldwin believe it was the Saracens. That way, we'll divert any suspicion."

Back in her quarters, Xica sat beside Baldwin, who noticed her pallor.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Just a bit tired, Baldwin. Nothing to worry about," Xica replied with a smile, though she knew inside that something was not right.

Later, she decided to visit the castle's healer. The woman, with a wise look, examined Xica and soon a smile appeared on her face.

"My queen, it seems you are expecting a child."

Xica felt a wave of emotions. Joy, surprise, fear. She wanted to run and tell Baldwin, to share the wonderful news with him.

She quickly headed to Baldwin's quarters, but before she could reach them, strong hands took her by surprise. People dressed in dark, strange clothing dragged her away. She tried to scream, but a damp cloth covered her mouth, and soon everything went dark.

Baldwin was in the throne room, worried about Xica's absence. She had left early and had not yet returned. He felt unease in his heart, a shadow of concern he couldn't shake. Despite his weakness, he rose and began to search for her throughout the castle.

"Have you seen the queen?" he asked everyone he encountered, his voice desperate and his steps unsteady.

No one seemed to know anything. Anxiety gripped him, and exhaustion began to take its toll on his body. However, he couldn't stop. Xica was his world, and without her, he felt lost.

Suddenly, Agnes appeared in the hallway, pretending to be injured and with a look of terror on her face.

"Baldwin!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Xica has been kidnapped!"

Baldwin felt his heart stop.

"What are you saying? Who has taken her?" his voice was barely a whisper, filled with anguish.

"The Saracens," Agnes said, feigning tears. "I saw it with my own eyes. I tried to stop them, but…," she coughed violently, "they were too fast."

Baldwin's world was collapsing. Desperation consumed him as he tried to process what his mother had said. He staggered, almost falling, but clung to the wall to stay upright.

"We must find her," he said with determination, his voice hoarse. "Gather the guards! We depart immediately!"

Despite his weakness, Baldwin led the search, his eyes full of fire and determination. He couldn't let them take his beloved Xica. Meanwhile, Agnes watched with a hidden smile, satisfied with how her plans were unfolding.

Xica, still unconscious, was being transported in a cart, her captors in dark clothes ensuring she couldn't escape. Darkness enveloped her, and in her unconsciousness, she dreamed of Baldwin, of the love they shared, and of the child she carried within her.

Baldwin and his men searched tirelessly, scouring the surroundings of the castle and beyond. Desperation grew with each minute that passed without news of Xica. Every corner was checked, every suspicion investigated.

Finally, exhausted and without strength, Baldwin collapsed on his bed, his mind tortured by uncertainty and pain. Xica was in danger, and he felt powerless. His thoughts turned to her, praying to God to keep her safe.

At that moment, Xica, in an unknown place, began to regain consciousness. She felt the movement of the cart and the pain in her body. She opened her eyes slowly, her mind clouded by fear and confusion.

"Where am I?" she murmured, though no one answered.

Darkness enveloped her, but her love for Baldwin and the life growing inside her gave her the strength to resist. She knew she had to be strong, not only for herself but for Baldwin and the child they carried.

Night fell over Jerusalem, and in the distance, the love between Baldwin and Xica shone like a beacon in the darkness, guiding them through the shadows that threatened to separate them.

Chapter 21: The Shadow of the Crown

The days passed slowly, and Xica began to notice a persistent discomfort. Dizziness was frequent, and nausea towards certain foods became increasingly evident. Initially, she attributed it to fatigue. After all, she and Baldwin had had very active nights lately, nights full of love and passion.

One morning, while in the living room, dizziness took her by surprise. Holding onto the edge of a table, Xica took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She felt the world spinning around her, but decided not to alarm Baldwin. She didn't want to worry him more than necessary.

Meanwhile, in a secluded room of the castle, Reynald de Châtillon and Agnes of Courtenay were conspiring in whispers. Agnes's cold gaze met Reynald's calculating one.

"The only way to weaken Baldwin and regain control is to get rid of her," Reynald said firmly. "We'll stage a fake kidnapping and send Xica in a slave caravan to Portugal. No one will know what really happened."

Agnes nodded, her eyes filled with determination. Though she coughed frequently, she tried to hide it. Her disdain for Xica and her thirst for power outweighed any concern for her health.

"Make sure everything is ready for tomorrow," Agnes ordered. "We'll make Baldwin believe it was the Saracens. That way, we'll divert any suspicion."

Back in her quarters, Xica sat beside Baldwin, who noticed her pallor.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Just a bit tired, Baldwin. Nothing to worry about," Xica replied with a smile, though she knew inside that something was not right.

Later, she decided to visit the castle's healer. The woman, with a wise look, examined Xica and soon a smile appeared on her face.

"My queen, it seems you are expecting a child."

Xica felt a wave of emotions. Joy, surprise, fear. She wanted to run and tell Baldwin, to share the wonderful news with him.

She quickly headed to Baldwin's quarters, but before she could reach them, strong hands took her by surprise. People dressed in dark, strange clothing dragged her away. She tried to scream, but a damp cloth covered her mouth, and soon everything went dark.

Baldwin was in the throne room, worried about Xica's absence. She had left early and had not yet returned. He felt unease in his heart, a shadow of concern he couldn't shake. Despite his weakness, he rose and began to search for her throughout the castle.

"Have you seen the queen?" he asked everyone he encountered, his voice desperate and his steps unsteady.

No one seemed to know anything. Anxiety gripped him, and exhaustion began to take its toll on his body. However, he couldn't stop. Xica was his world, and without her, he felt lost.

Suddenly, Agnes appeared in the hallway, pretending to be injured and with a look of terror on her face.

"Baldwin!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. "Xica has been kidnapped!"

Baldwin felt his heart stop.

"What are you saying? Who has taken her?" his voice was barely a whisper, filled with anguish.

"The Saracens," Agnes said, feigning tears. "I saw it with my own eyes. I tried to stop them, but…," she coughed violently, "they were too fast."

Baldwin's world was collapsing. Desperation consumed him as he tried to process what his mother had said. He staggered, almost falling, but clung to the wall to stay upright.

"We must find her," he said with determination, his voice hoarse. "Gather the guards! We depart immediately!"

Despite his weakness, Baldwin led the search, his eyes full of fire and determination. He couldn't let them take his beloved Xica. Meanwhile, Agnes watched with a hidden smile, satisfied with how her plans were unfolding.

Xica, still unconscious, was being transported in a cart, her captors in dark clothes ensuring she couldn't escape. Darkness enveloped her, and in her unconsciousness, she dreamed of Baldwin, of the love they shared, and of the child she carried within her.

Baldwin and his men searched tirelessly, scouring the surroundings of the castle and beyond. Desperation grew with each minute that passed without news of Xica. Every corner was checked, every suspicion investigated.

Finally, exhausted and without strength, Baldwin collapsed on his bed, his mind tortured by uncertainty and pain. Xica was in danger, and he felt powerless. His thoughts turned to her, praying to God to keep her safe.

At that moment, Xica, in an unknown place, began to regain consciousness. She felt the movement of the cart and the pain in her body. She opened her eyes slowly, her mind clouded by fear and confusion.

"Where am I?" she murmured, though no one answered.

Darkness enveloped her, but her love for Baldwin and the life growing inside her gave her the strength to resist. She knew she had to be strong, not only for herself but for Baldwin and the child they carried.

Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the castle, Xavier and Jacobino were enjoying a meal with the healer. There was an air of relaxation and camaraderie in the room, with the sun filtering through the windows and filling the space with warm light.

"Have you heard the news about Xica?" the healer asked, a mysterious smile on her lips as she served a plate of fresh fruit.

"No, what happened?" Xavier replied, looking up from his plate with interest.

"Xica is expecting a child," the healer announced, her smile widening as she saw the expressions of surprise and joy on Xavier and Jacobino's faces.

"That's wonderful!" Jacobino exclaimed, banging the table enthusiastically. "We're going to be uncles!"

Xavier smiled broadly, feeling a wave of happiness and pride. However, his joy was abruptly interrupted when a guard entered the room, his face grave and concern in his eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I bring bad news," the guard said, his voice low and tense. "Xica has disappeared."

Xavier's heart stopped for a moment. He looked at Jacobino, whose face reflected the same shock and fear he felt.

"What do you mean she has disappeared?" Jacobino asked, rising quickly from his chair.

"She was kidnapped. The Saracens took her," the guard explained. "King Baldwin is organizing a search."

The news hit Xavier and Jacobino like a storm. The joy they had felt moments before vanished, replaced by deep concern and fear.

"We must help find her," Xavier said, his voice firm though his heart trembled with fear.

"Yes, we can't stay here doing nothing," Jacobino added, the same determination in his eyes.

The brothers hurried to join the search, their minds filled with chaotic thoughts and worries. The healer, still processing the news, closed her eyes and murmured a silent prayer for Xica's safety.

Elsewhere, Xica slowly opened her eyes. She was in a covered cart, her hands tied and her body aching from the journey. Around her, the men who had kidnapped her spoke in whispers in a language she could barely understand.

"Where am I?" she wondered, feeling panic begin to bubble within her.

She tried to move, but the ropes binding her hands were too strong. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her mind and remember what had happened. The image of Baldwin came to her mind, filling her with a mixture of pain and hope.

She knew he would do everything possible to find her. She had to be strong, not just for herself, but for Baldwin and the child she carried within her. She closed her eyes, praying silently for her safety and that of her beloved.

Meanwhile, Baldwin was in the throne room, surrounded by his advisors and warriors. His face showed a mix of anger and concern as he gave orders for the search for Xica.

"We will not rest until we find her," he declared, his voice resonating with determination. "Mobilize all available men. Search every corner of the city and beyond."

Agnes, pretending an expression of distress, watched her son with a mix of hidden satisfaction and feigned concern. Her plans were in motion, but she knew she had to keep up appearances.

"We will do everything possible, my son," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But we must be cautious. We don't want more people to get hurt."

Baldwin nodded, though his mind was focused on Xica. He couldn't afford to lose her. Not now, not after all they had been through together.

Meanwhile, Xavier and Jacobino, along with other guards, scoured the streets and the castle's surroundings, questioning anyone who might have seen something suspicious. Desperation grew with each minute that passed without news of Xica.

In the darkness of the night, Xica clung to the hope that Baldwin would find her. Despite her fear and pain, her love for him kept her strong. She knew she had to endure, for her own sake and that of the child she carried within.

Time passed slowly, and each minute felt like an eternity. But in her heart, Xica kept the flame of hope alive, trusting that Baldwin would rescue her and that together they would overcome this trial, as they had overcome so many others.

True love, she thought, always finds a way to prevail, even in the darkest moments.

To be continued…

[countvonreutern]

His Serene Highness The Count of Münnich and Reutern wishing his cousin, Charles a very happy birthday.

19th Earl of Devon is His Serene Highness's fifth cousin once removed.

The Count's great-great-great-grandmother, Agnes Elizabeth Wood, Viscountess of Halifax née Courtenay was born in 1838 at the Powderham Castle in Devon.

[incorrect-koh-posts]

You know what, I'm not ashamed of my history crush and if you're still alive, I'd like to hear your opinions on Baldwin IV and a fierce, sarcastic lover--who might or not be the future Queen😏-- and how he would react to her actually being a smartass when it came to politicals. Like, she knows medicine, philosphy and maybe music?

Hi! So, first of all: Yes, I'm still alive. And yes, I'm aware there are about a dozen unanswered asks / headcanon things currently sitting in my drafts. To those of you who sent them - I'm terribly sorry I'm so slow with my answers at the moment, but I promise I'll get to them all as soon as I can. <3

Secondly: Never be ashamed of your history crushes! Many great works of literature are essentially fan fiction. Many great works of art are fan art. Having crushes - whether fictional, historical, contemporary, what have you - is human. Don't feel bad if you do have them, and also don't feel bad if you don't.

Now, on to your question. Would Baldwin get along with a fierce, sarcastic, and politically savvy lover? Long story short: I'd say it depends.

Let's see: Baldwin grew up with a mother who was very involved in politics (especially when her son ascended the throne) - which wasn't a terribly uncommon thing among the noblewomen of Outremer, so quite a few of our KoH boys likely learned to chug their respect-women juice very early on. But - again, depending on what take on her you follow (Will of Tyre, for instance, tends to be rather hostile to the Courtenay party) - Agnes' nose for politics didn't make her the easiest person to get along with, and adding to that, she was probably bitter as hell about being discarded by Amalric on account of consanguinity when he became king.

Thus, I imagine Baldwin would definitely not underestimate a woman who knows her way around court intrigues and the politics of the Latin kingdoms. Yet, I also think he would probably be wary of such a person, at least initially. If I were to introduce such a character as a potential love interest for Baldwin, I wouldn't write their falling for each other as a case of love at first sight. Time, however, does fix many things, eh? ;D

So, I can imagine Baldwin with a fierce lover, but I do think too much sarcasm and overt feistiness would rather be a turn-off for him. I realise I might be in the minority with that opinion, but I think there is a limit to the sass Baldwin could endure in a partner. A little every now and then - yes, absolutely. But constant, supposedly witty banter and bickering - I think that would rather wear him down. A snarky OC would, in the long run, probably have a better shot with either Imad or Raymond or possibly Godfrey. I don't see Baldwin - who is, generally, of a calm, wise, and rather gentle disposition - deriving much pleasure from the company of someone who constantly verbally challenges him.

Would he like an intelligent partner? Absolutely. But I think he'd rather be into someone who is quiet and humble about their assets, than into someone who flaunts them and feels the need to throw into everyone's faces how oh-so-smart and witty and different they are. I'm sorry - I know many people like this sort of character, but I'm usually not a fan.

I know lots of fics interpret it differently and everybody is of course welcome to their own take on the character - running a blog on this hellsite does not make me an authority on the subject by any means. But the way I see it, Baldwin would have the best chemistry with someone alike to him in temperament. Someone calm or even a little shy, initially; clever and occasionally witty, yes, but not too forward or brash. The king values his peace, after all - and someone calm and well-mannered would likely be a better fit for a ruler in a position as precarious as Baldwin's than someone who constantly stirs up trouble in one way or another, no matter how endearing they are.

Ergo: The success of such a dynamic would mainly depend on how you'd construct Baldwin's fierce, sarcastic lover as a character. If you carefully think their interactions through and give them some time to adjust to each other, I could definitely see their relationship bloom into something very lovely, but I wouldn't say that it is a match made in heaven, per se. So my advice would be: Don't overdo it with the sass. That might become tiring for both Baldwin and the reader rather quickly.

In any case, best of luck to you! I hope this was helpful in some way :)

[incorrect-koh-posts]

Oh yeah bitches say it louder for the people in the back 👏

i’m gonna say it. a thousand times if need be.

GET THIS TWO A DAMN TV SERIES IT’S ABOUT TIME TV HAS A SHOW TAKING PLACE IN THE MIDDLE AGES.

i need a tv show that revolves around salahuddin and baldwin iv and preferably historically accurate, if that’s possible. not only because i am keen on learning history but these two legendary kings really deserves their own god damn show.

also the modern world is disappointing anyway. please take me back to 850 years ago.