#prince du sang

[roehenstart]

Antoine de Bourbon (1518-1562) by Jean-Marie Ribou.

[dreamconsumer]

René d'Anjou (1409-1480). Unknown artist.

[monimarat]

I saw this letter from Camille to his father at an auction website and the crossed out sections, missing from the transcribed version, are interesting.

The letter is referenced in Leuwers’ biography and appears this way in Matton’s Correspondence Inédite:

The actual letter had two crossed out sections:

After asking his father to send subscriptions, he crosses out “Je compte deja parmi mes abonnés deux princes du sang.” Probably because he realized that bragging about getting subscriptions from the aristocracy is not very republican, he extra crosses out “deux princes du sang.”

(Although I wonder if this is accurate, because it looks like more words than “deux princes du sang” to me.)

The other is a minor change, from “à deux heures du matin” to “après minuit.” It doesn’t change the meaning, it’s just a small stylistic choice. The kind of thing that you get to see in a letter that’s lost in transcription.

[flashbic]

Page 7/19 ! Tout. Va. Bien.

Page 6 / Page 8 (pour lire du début, c'est ici!)

Cases individuelles sous le readmore!

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN ||SEASON 2 EPISODE 02 || NOT IN SCOTLAND ANYMORE||

#83daysofoutlander☆

I closed the door of the drawing room quietly behind me and stood still a moment, gathering courage. I essayed a restorative deep breath, but the tightness of the whalebone corseting made it come out as a strangled gasp. Jamie, immersed in a handful of shipping orders, glanced up at the sound and froze, eyes wide. His mouth opened, but he made no sound. “How do you like it?” Handling the train a bit gingerly, I stepped down into the room, swaying gently as the seamstress had instructed, to show off the filmy gussets of silk plissé let into the overskirt. Jamie shut his mouth and blinked several times. “It’s … ah … red, isn’t it?” he observed. “Rather.” Sang-du-Christ, to be exact. Christ’s blood, the most fashionable color of the season, or so I had been given to understand. “Not every woman could wear it, Madame,” the seamstress had declared, speech unhampered by a mouthful of pins. “But you, with that skin! Mother of God, you’ll have men crawling under your skirt all night!” “If one tries, I’ll stamp on his fingers,” I said. That, after all, was not at all the intended effect. But I did mean to be visible. Jamie had urged me to have something made that would make me stand out in the crowd. Early-morning fog notwithstanding, the King had evidently remembered him from his appearance at the lever, and we had been invited to a ball at Versailles. “I’ll need to get the ears of the men with the money,” Jamie had said, making plans with me earlier. “And as I’ve neither great position nor power myself, it will have to be managed by making them seek my company.” He heaved a sigh, looking at me, decidedly unglamorous in my woolen bedgown. “And I’m afraid in Paris that means we’ll have to go out a bit in society; appear at Court, if it can be managed. They’ll know I’m a Scot; it will be natural for folk to ask me about Prince Charles, and whether Scotland is eagerly awaiting the return of the Stuarts. Then I can assure them discreetly that most Scots would pay a good price not to have the Stuarts back again—though it goes against the grain a bit to say so.” “Yes, you’d better be discreet,” I agreed. “Or the Bonnie Prince may set the dogs on you next time you go to visit.” In accordance with his plan to keep abreast of Charles’s activities, Jamie had been paying weekly duty calls on the small house at Montmartre. Jamie smiled briefly. “Aye. Well, so far as His Highness, and the Jacobite supporters are concerned, I’m a loyal upholder of the Stuart cause. And so long as Charles Stuart is not received at Court and I am, the chances of his finding out what I’m saying there are not great.

Jacobites in Paris keep to themselves, as a rule. For the one thing, they haven’t the money to appear in fashionable circles. But we have, thanks to Jared.” Jared had concurred—for entirely different reasons—in Jamie’s proposal that we widen the scope of Jared’s usual business entertaining, so that the French nobility and the heads of the wealthy banking families might beat a path to our door, there to be seduced and cozened with Rhenish wine, good talk, fine entertainment, and large quantities of the good Scotch whisky that Murtagh had spent the last two weeks shepherding across the Channel and overland to our cellars. “It’s entertainment of one kind or another that draws them, ye ken,” Jamie had said, sketching out plans on the back of a broadsheet poem describing the scurrilous affair between the Comte de Sévigny and the wife of the Minister of Agriculture. “All the nobility care about is appearances. So to start with, we must offer them something interesting to look at.” Judging from the stunned look on his face now, I had made a good beginning. I sashayed a bit, making the huge overskirt swing like a bell. “Not bad, is it?” I asked. “Very visible, at any rate.” He found his voice at last. “Visible?” he croaked. “Visible? God, I can see every inch of ye, down to the third rib!” I peered downward. “No, you can’t. That isn’t me under the lace, it’s a fining of white charmeuse.” “Aye well, it looks like you!” He came closer, bending to inspect the bodice of the dress. He peered into my cleavage. “Christ, I can see down to your navel! Surely ye dinna mean to go out in public like that!” I bristled a bit at this. I had been feeling a trifle nervous myself over the general revealingness of the dress, the fashionable sketches the seamstress had shown me notwithstanding. But Jamie’s reaction was making me feel defensive, and thus rebellious. “You told me to be visible,” I reminded him. “And this is absolutely nothing, compared to the latest Court fashions. Believe me, I shall be modesty personified, in comparison with Madame de Pérignon and the Duchesse de Rouen.” I put my hands on my hips and surveyed him coldly. “Or do you want me to appear at Court in my green velvet?” Jamie averted his eyes from my décolletage and tightened his lips. “Mphm,” he said, looking as Scotch as possible. Trying to be conciliatory, I came closer and laid a hand on his arm. “Come now,” I said. “You’ve been at Court before; surely you know what ladies dress like. You know this isn’t terribly extreme by those standards.” He glanced down at me and smiled, a trifle shamefaced

“Aye,” he said. “Aye, that’s true. It’s only … well, you’re my wife, Sassenach. I dinna want other men to look at you the way I’ve looked at those ladies.” I laughed and put my hands behind his neck, pulling him down to kiss me. He held me around the waist, his thumbs unconsciously stroking the softness of the red silk where it sheathed my torso. His touch traveled upward, sliding across the slipperiness of the fabric to the nape of my neck. His other hand grasped the soft roundness of my breast, swelling up above the tethering grip of the corsets, voluptuously free under a single layer of sheer silk. He let go at last and straightened up, shaking his head doubtfully. “I suppose ye’ll have to wear it, Sassenach, but for Christ’s sake be careful.” “Careful? Of what?” His mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Lord, woman, have ye no notion what ye look like in that gown? It makes me want to commit 💥 on the spot. And these damned frog-eaters havena got my restraint.” He frowned slightly. “You couldna … cover it up at bit at the top?” He waved a large hand vaguely in the direction of his own lace jabot, secured with a ruby stickpin. “A … ruffle or something? A handkerchief?” “Men,” I told him, “have no notion of fashion. But not to worry. The seamstress says that’s what the fan is for.” I flipped the matching lace-trimmed fan open with a gesture that had taken fifteen minutes’ practice to perfect, and fluttered it enticingly over my bosom. Jamie blinked meditatively at this performance, then turned to take my cloak from the wardrobe.

“Do me the one favor, Sassenach,” he said, draping the heavy velvet over my shoulders. “Take a larger fan.”

9 THE SPLENDORS OF VERSAILLES

[empiredesimparte]

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Episode III, N°3 | Belgisim, 15 Thermidor An 230

During the Europesim summit, Napoleon V tried to create a dialogue between the leaders of the Empire of Pierreland (Emperor David) and the Union of Iona (Queen Viviana II). This initiative proved to be of little avail.

Collaboration with @funkyllama and @officalroyalsofpierreland

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

Durant le sommet d'Europesim, Napoléon V tente de créer un dialogue entre les dirigeants de l'empire de Pierreland (l'empereur David) et de l'Union d'Iona (la reine Viviana II). Cette initiative ne s'avère que peu fructueuse : les tensions sont désormais fortes entre les pays européensims.

(Napoléon) Ce ne sera pas agréable, mais il va falloir que vous trouviez un terrain d'entente

(David) Je suis d'accord. Nous sommes tous des adultes responsables ici, et... pour être franc, certaines vérités ne devront pas quitter cette pièce, pas encore

(Eloise) Je ne crois pas que mes enfants soient un sujet d'État pertinent qui relève de la politique européennesim, du moins avant la majorité. N'est-ce pas David ? De parent à parent (Napoléon) S'il vous plaît...

(David) Quand j'ai reçu votre lettre... Je craignais que mon fils ne soit pas assez mâture pour assumer sa paternité. J'ai consulté Katalina, qui n'est pas d'accord et veut que Louis soit partie intégrante de la vie de Lenerd. À cause de ce désaccord, j'ai demandé à mes deux fils aînés et conseillers d'État... (Eloise) Vous considérez que votre petit-fils est une affaire d'état ? Comme ces deux-là qui ne sont pas vos fils ? Pardon ?!

(David) Ils sont mes fils. Felipe par le sang et Edmund par la loi. Et oui, mon petit-fils est devenu une affaire d'État ! Le père n'a pas été informé du fait que vous soyez enceinte ! (Eloise) Comme s'il ne savait pas compter jusqu'à 9...

(Napoléon) David, Lenerd devrait être reconnu par votre empire... Sinon mon filleul va...

(David) Nom de Dieu, j'essaye d'admettre mes fautes-

(Napoléon) S'il vous plaît, du calme. Repoussons ce rendez-vous...

(Eloise) Je n'ai pas besoin ni ne veut de son argent. Ni même du soutien, à moins que Louis en soit l'instigateur

(David) Eloise, je vous prie de bien vouloir croire que tout le soutien et l'argent que je vous ferai parvenir sera une attention de Louis

(Eloise) Le même Louis que vous maintenez dans l'ignorance ? Non, merci. (David) Pour le moment. Je ne pense pas que Louis devrait-

(Eloise) Vous, vous vous, VOUS. Il s'agit de mon bébé. De son bébé. Pourquoi pensez-vous que vous pouvez l'éloigner de son fils ?

(David) Le garçon n'a que 19 ans. Il ne peut pas gérer ça !

(Eloise) À 19 ans j'aurais assumé les conséquences de mes putains d'actions

(David) Donne-nous 10 ans, à Katalina et moi. Il sera alors élevé comme un prince de Pierreland avec tous les droits qu'ils lui reviennent et je le reconnaîtrai comme mon petit fils. Je dirai au public la vérité

[angelasscribbles]

What Once Was

Fandom: Vying for Versailles (Romance Club)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: none

Summary: Renee married someone else. But what happens when Alexandre comes back into her life?

“Madame, you have a visitor.”

Renée looked up from her writing desk curiously. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. “Who is it, Beatrice?”

Beatrice had served Renee since she had first set foot in Versailles all those years ago. She had risen from lady’s maid to maîtresse d'hôtel. Her duties now involved overseeing all the other household servants at Chateau de Marly.

“It’s Monsieur Bontemps, Madame.”

The door to the study swung wide as the mistress of house backed away, revealing Alexandre, his fingers twisting nervously at the hat clasped in his hands.

Renee rose from her desk with surprised delight and swept across the room to greet him with a hug. “Alexandre! This is a pleasant surprise! Wait….” She drew back with a worried crease across her brow, “Is all well? The king—”

“The king is fine, Madame.”

Her good mood faltered as her eyes tracked his face noting the agitation in his stance. Very little rattled the king’s spymaster. “Then why are you here?”

“I was hoping we could have a private conversation.” His eyes darted around the room. “May I come in?”

“Certainly, but I think we would be more comfortable in the small sitting room.” She stepped out of the study and led him down the hallway to the smallest of the sitting rooms. It was cozy, plush, and private.

She gave Beatrice instructions to send a maid in with tea service then she shut the door. Turning back to him, she crossed her arms and studied him closely.

He was fidgety, clearly wound up about something, which was completely out of character for him. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled across her face as she took in his agitation. “Do I still make you nervous, Alexandre?”

“You do have a way of knocking my equilibrium off balance, Madame.” He gave her a small smile.

The affection and heat in his gaze sent butterflies exploding through her stomach. “That is good to know, Monsieur.”

He arched an eyebrow skeptically, “You think me indifferent to you?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could never be indifferent to you.” The pure, undisguised longing on his face sent shivers cascading down her spine.

There was a brief lull in their conversation as the tea was served. Renee watched the maid retreat as she stirred her tea. With her eyes focused on the cup in her hand, she softly said, “You should have stayed.”

“Renee…I couldn’t stay in close proximity to you knowing I could never touch you again.”

She glanced up at him and her tone was sharp as she told him, “Those were the choices you made.”

He sighed as he carefully sat his cup on the table. It was the same argument they’d had before he had left for Geneva to serve the king’s interest in Switzerland. “You didn’t choose me.”

“I did. I simply didn’t choose only you,” she reminded him. “And it’s not like you were ever going to marry me anyway.”

“A spymaster—”

“I know. Believe me, I remember all your excuses.”

“They weren’t excuses.”

“Weren’t they?”

He didn’t answer. He had told her that they could never be a couple. He hadn’t had a noble title back then and his work made it almost impossible to conduct a love affair. But when she had accepted a proposal from the Prince du Sang, it had felt like a knife plunged into his heart.

He drew in a deep breath and decided to tell her the truth. “There’s something you don’t know, Renee. I did approach Louis about a possible match. The king had been offering to ennoble me for years. I thought, maybe…”

Renee jerked in surprise, nearly spilling her tea in the process, “What?”

“My request was rejected out of hand and when Philippe got down on one knee in front of the entire court a mere day later, I understood why.”

Louis loved him like a brother. But Philippe was his brother. And he had probably asked first. The prince was a better match for her anyway. He knew that.

Renee quickly sat her cup down and tried to quell the shaking in her hands. “Alexandre…why didn’t you tell me?”

“After witnessing firsthand your pure joy at accepting another man’s proposal? What would have been the point?” He had, instead, determined to keep his distance from her.

And yet when their paths crossed, he had found that he still could not resist her. “Do you remember that night in Paris, right before your wedding?”

Madame de France, princess, duchess, and marquise did not blush easily, but her cheeks colored at the reminder. “Of course I do. But why are you bringing that up? Why are you bringing any of it up now?”

“Pardon?”

“Why discuss these things now? After all this time?”

“Ah, yes.” And here was the reason for his visit. “Do you remember when you told me that you would recognize me anywhere?”

“Yes. And you said the same. What does that have to do with why you’re here?”

“Only that I by chance saw you last time I was in Paris on the king’s business. I only saw your profile as you climbed into your carriage, but I knew it was you.”

“And you didn’t think to say hello?”

“I started to but then I saw your son.”

“Louis-Philippe?”

“Yes. One of the servants handed him up into the carriage to you and I got a clear view of his face, Renee.”

Her heart stopped. “And?”

“And he favors neither the prince nor a certain count that you are overly fond of.”

She ignored his reference to Armand as her heart started to thump even harder. She knew exactly who the child favored but she wasn’t going to make this easy on him. Her hands and her voice were steady as she looked him directly in the eye. “What are you asking me, Alexandre?”

“Is he….is he mine?”

She jumped up from her seat and stalked across the room to stare out the window. After a long pause, she replied, “You are not a father in the way that Philippe is. You do not tuck him into bed at night nor ease his fears when the thunder booms. He does not know you.”

He stood and followed her across the room, resting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Without turning to look at him, she whispered, “Yes, he was conceived that night in Paris.”

Alexandre’s world tilted on its axis. He had known, of course, the moment he had seen the child’s face. But to have confirmation…. He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Anger flared through her as she spun to face him and flung his own words back at him. “What would have been the point? You ran away from me fast enough the moment you didn’t like my choices.”

“But a child, Renee!”

“By the time I knew I was with child, I was already married! What would you have had me do? Put it in a letter so your enemies could use it against us both? You well know how easy it is to intercept correspondence.”

He nodded in acquiescence. He could not fault her logic. “And the Prince du Sang... does he….”

“Philippe knows. He does not care.”

“I find that hard to believe, Madame.”

“Did you think we were cuckolding him every time we were together?”

“Well…”

“I told you, before he even proposed, what our arrangement was!”

“Yes, but I—”

“You what? You thought I was lying?” She stepped closer. So close she could smell the vanilla and cardamom scent that always clung to him. So close that she could feel the heat radiating from him, sense the tension in his body, “I may lie to everyone else in service to my king and my country, but I have never lied to you nor him! I do not lie to the people that I love.”

Alexandre froze, shock, pleasure, and disbelief coursing through him at her words. She loved him?

Oblivious to his reaction to her unintentional confession, she plowed on. “And your assertation that I would have divided loyalties was preposterous! My loyalty to my husband would never put me at cross purposes with you, Alexandre and you know it! Philippe loves his brother and is loyal to him. Furthermore, I do not tell him everything that I know or that I do. He understands and respects the need for discretion when it comes to my duties as a spymaster! He would never ask me to betray—”

“Alright! Alright!” He held both hands up in surrender with a bemused chuckle.

“It’s not funny, Alexandre!” She stood in the middle of the room, just inches from him, cheeks red and chest heaving with emotion.

He was struck nearly speechless by her beauty. She was even more breathtaking when she was angry. How was that possible? He took an involuntary step toward her.

She froze, her eyes trained on him, but she didn’t back away.

He took another step toward her, this one purposeful.

They stood, unmoving, staring into each other’s eyes; two hearts pounding in anticipation. He lifted a hand and reached out for her just as the sitting room door banged open.

“There you are, my love! I—oh! I didn’t realize we had company.” The prince stopped short, causing the chevalier who had been hot on his heels to collide into his backside.

Alexandre jerked his hand back and stepped away awkwardly. “My prince! I…” he executed a low bow. “So lovely to see you again.”

Philippe’s eyes took in the valet’s flushed and guilty expression and then his wife’s stoic demeanor. Renee had not backed away when he entered the room. She had stood her ground. Her ire was evident and he smothered a smile. He understood everything. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Alexandre, but let’s not pretend you came here for me.”

“I….” For the first time in his life, Alexandre was struck completely speechless.

Renee finally moved, closing the distance to greet her husband with a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. She murmured in his ear, “He knows about Louie.”

“Hm,” he hugged her back, but his gaze was trained on his brother’s spymaster.

Renee moved around her husband to greet the chevalier with the same hug and kiss she had just given her husband. “How was grouse hunting?”

“As usual, we didn’t find a single grouse but at least we didn’t end up drunk in a fountain again.” The chevalier laughed at his own joke as he returned her hug. Not a day passed that he didn’t count his blessings.

There had been a time when the king had been adamant that Philippe make a political marriage, likely to some English noblewoman who would expect fidelity from him. He would forever be grateful that Louis had allowed the prince to marry Renee and that Renee had never blinked at the relationship between the two men. Now he practically lived at Chateau de Marly and was both a godfather and cherished uncle to their son. They functioned very well as a threesome and while his whole heart belonged to the prince, he wasn’t completely indifferent to Renee.

He also liked the life they had built together very much so he glared suspiciously at the intruder. “Why are you here, Monsieur Bontemps?”

Finally recovering, Alexander stiffly replied, “I had some…business to discuss with the duchess.”

Renee snorted. “Business? Is that what this is, Alexandre?”

He flushed scarlet which caused the other two men in the room to laugh.

The prince spoke first. “Let’s drop the pretense, shall we? Renee and I have no secrets from each other nor do I keep secrets from the chevalier. His discretion is not in question. You may speak freely. Everyone in this room knows that Louis is your son. So why are you really here?”

“Do you wish to challenge me to a duel, Monsieur?” Alexandre asked carefully.

Philippe looked at him askance. “Why would I do that?”

Alexandre shook his head slowly. “Most men in your position would.” It was dawning on him that Renee had been telling the full truth of the matter. Philippe showed no signs of rage or jealousy.

Of course, it was an open secret at court that his affair with the chevalier never ended, but for most men indulging their own desires did not mean they were tolerant of their wives doing the same.

Philippe’s face broke into a wide smile. “When have you ever known me to be like most men? Come now, stay for dinner and we can discuss everything.”

“As tempting as that sounds…I have some urgent business matters I must attend to tonight. However….”

“Yes?”

“With your leave, I would like to visit the child. As a family friend, of course. I would never disclose the true nature of our relationship to him.”

“You want a relationship with our son?” Renee asked so quietly he almost missed it.

Turning to face her with beseeching eyes he answered her. “If it pleases you, then yes.”

Renee closed her eyes briefly as she fought against the onslaught of conflicting emotions that collided inside her at the thought. When she opened them again, she blinked up at him. “I think I would like that very much.”

Profound relief swirled through him at her answer. He had not known what to expect when he knocked on her door, but things had gone better than he could have imagined. Turning his attention back to Philippe, he asked, “And this is alright with you?”

“It is. You’ll find Louie is a capricious and wild little hellion who delights in his friendships with children and adults alike. I think he’ll be good for you.”

Alexandre barked out a surprised laugh. “He’ll be good for me?”

“Yes….” Philippe drawled out with a mischievous grin. “I think you need to loosen up and he’s just the person to help you do it.”

The king’s valet turned to go but an idea had taken root in his mind and he could not let it go. Turning back he asked, “And your wife?”

“What about her?”

“May I have permission to resume our….friendship?”

“Oh, he wants to court your wife!” The chevalier chortled out loud.

“Monsieur,” Philippe shook his head. “You disappoint me. I thought you understood. You do not need my permission. You need hers.”

Alexandre turned slowly, his heart thudding in his chest. “Madame. I would be most grateful if you would agree to indulge me in a conversation soon. I think we have many things to discuss.”

“For how long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How long will these discussions go on? When do you leave again?”

He nodded in understanding. “Given today's revelations, and assuming you will continue to welcome me as a visitor in your home, I will start making the preparations to return to my house in Paris immediately and permanently.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment and then she nodded. “I would like you to get to know our son and I would be open to you and I having a conversation about where we go from there.”

He couldn’t help the smile that crawled across his face. He left the chateau with a spring in his step.

The truth was, he had not been happy since he’d left court shortly after her wedding. He hadn’t thought he could share her, open relationship with her husband or not. But an even larger concern had been his fear of openly loving her, thereby making her a target for his enemies, which were many.

He would never be comfortable being physically affectionate with her in front of others, he was more private than that, but if there was still a relationship to be had with her, there couldn’t be a more perfect cover than her marriage. No one ever had to know what she meant to him, or that he had a child. They could therefore never be used against him.

The thought of rekindling what they once had made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time….happiness.

It was entirely possible that things had worked out for him after all.

[shakertwelve]

oh just found out that the meaning of nightingale's cape name is apparently not as self-evident as i'd assumed so breakdown of the meanings of all the alt vic & meeb cape names

dauphine - historical title of the crown princess of france

palatine - historical rank within some royal courts, etymologically related to "paladin". coincidentally also anatomically refers to the inside of the mouth

queen of hearts - the one from alice in wonderland. often confused with the red queen, who's only in the second book, alice through the looking glass

heracles - you would think it's because of the "trying to make up for wrongs committed while magically induced into a blind murderous rage" thing, and it is, but it's also because of the "wearing the impervious skin of a beast over his own" thing

gloryblaze - play on "blaze of glory" and "glory days". even dumber than "manpower" and "laserdream" because he doesn't even have fire-related powers, just light

nightingale - florence nightingale is considered the founder of modern nursing. coincidentally, "florence nightingale syndrome" refers to the (likely imagined) phenomenon of nurses falling in love with their patients

helios - sun deity, he has light powers like the sun, his costume is eclipse-themed as previously discussed

swan queen - swan maidens are a common fairy tale motif wherein a girl is transformed into a swan, or a swan into a girl; often the story involves taking the swan's wings away and hiding them to force her to remain in the form of a girl. related, by some measures, to the story of the crane wife, or potentially the ugly duckling

margrave - archaic feudal title, etymologically related to "marquis"; in some languages the two terms are not distinguished

vicereine - feminine feudal title for one who acts in the absence of/as extension of the will of the ruler

artemis - moon deity, associated with hunting & archery, her costume is crescent moon-themed as previously discussed

prince du sang - historical title for male descendants of a sovereign, usually translated from french as "prince of the blood"

[icariebzh]

"Alligators 427 Aux ailes de cachemire safran, Je grille ma dernière cigarette. Je vous attends. Sur cette autoroute hystérique Qui nous conduit chez les mutants, J'ai troqué mon cœur contre une trique. Je vous attends. Je sais que vous avez la beauté destructive Et le sourire vainqueur jusqu'au dernier soupir. Je sais que vos mâchoires distillent l'agonie. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Alligators 427 À la queue de zinc et de sang, Je m'tape une petite reniflette. Je vous attends. Dans cet étrange carnaval On a vendu l'homo sapiens Pour racheter du Neandertal. Je vous attends. Et les manufactures ont beau se recycler, Y aura jamais assez de morphine pour tout le monde, Surtout qu'à ce qu'on dit, vous aimez faire durer. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Alligators 427 Aux longs regards phosphorescents, Je mouche mon nez, remonte mes chaussettes. Je vous attends. Et je bloque mes lendemains. Je sais que les mouches s'apprêtent, Autour des tables du festin. Je vous attends. Et j'attends que se dressent vos prochains charniers. J'ai raté l'autre guerre pour la photographie. J'espère que vos macchabées seront bien faisandés. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Alligators 427 Aux crocs venimeux et gluants, Je donne un coup de brosse à mon squelette. Je vous attends. L'idiot du village fait la queue Et tend sa carte d'adhérent Pour prendre place dans le grand feu. Je vous attends. J'entends siffler le vent au-dessus des calvaires Et je vois les vampires sortir de leurs cercueils Pour venir saluer les anges nucléaires. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Alligators 427 Aux griffes d'or et de diamant, Je sais que la ciguë est prête. Je vous attends. Je sais que dans votre alchimie, L'atome ça vaut des travellers chèques Et ça suffit comme alibi. Je vous attends. A l'ombre de vos centrales, je crache mon cancer. Je cherche un nouveau nom pour ma métamorphose. Je sais que mes enfants s'appelleront vers de terre. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Alligators 427 Au cerveau de jaspe et d'argent, Il est temps de sonner la fête. Je vous attends. Vous avez le goût du grand art Et sur mon compteur électrique, J'ai le portrait du prince-ringard. Je vous attends. Je sais que, désormais, vivre est un calembour. La mort est devenue un état permanent. Le monde est aux fantômes, aux hyènes et aux vautours. Moi, je vous dis : " bravo " et " vive la mort ! "

Je vous attends. Je vous attends. Je vous attends. Je vous attends."

Hubert-Félix Thiéfaine

[pliziu]

★Le petit prince des ténèbres🦇👻🧛★

★Observez le prince des ténèbres🦇📷, le seul et unique... meeeeercutio ❗💜 Celui-là, justement, est très étonnant, ne tombe pas amoureux, il t'emmène dans son château et te suce le sang.🍷🤭

★Il vous invite dans son château mais si vous faites attention🗣️✨, ses mains sont peintes parce que ce n'est que du maquillage... oui... je suis désolé, ce n'est pas un vrai vampire 😔🧛

[roehenstart]

René de Valois (1454-1492), duc d'Alençon de 1476 à 1492. Auteur inconnu.

[dreamconsumer]

Louis-Auguste de Bourbon (1670-1736).

[inky-duchess]

are all European nobility hierarchies the same?

In some ways yes, the French, English, German, Italian, Spanish have similar ranks but sometimes they have extra titles such as the French rank of Princes du Sang or the German Elector or Landgrave. The Russian system has similar ranks but has a few notable changes.

[selidren]

Hiver 1916-1917 - Champs-les-Sims

5/7

Je suis bien loin d'être une spécialiste aussi informée que Constantin, mais il me semble que les autres bustes que nous possédons sont également de la XXème dynastie. Personnellement j'ai un attrait plus particulier pour l'art de la XVIIIème et XIXème, mais je trouve cela fascinant de voir que nous avons dans notre collection des reliques datant d'une lignée de princes de sang, qui se sont autrefois passés le pouvoir de mains en mains. Bien que l'on puisse reprocher aux pharaons de la XXème l'affaiblissement progressif de l'Egypte, il y a quelque chose d'émouvant dans tous ces portraits qui reprennent le nom et la forme d'un ancêtre prestigieux. Cela me rappelle ma petite Eugénie. Le jour où Madame Eugénie nous quittera, elle sera là pour se souvenir d'elle.

Nous possédons aussi une très belle collection de vases canopes que nous exposons dans le bureau, de même que mes photographies. J'espère pouvoir un jour vous les montrer et je sais que Constantin en serait également extrêmement fier.

Transcription :

Eugénie « Tu es bien gentil d’accompagner ta vieille grand-maman à sa promenade mon garçon. Et quelle élégance, tu me rappelles ton grand-père au même âge ! »

Marc-Antoine « Votre mari, André ? »

Eugénie « Oh grand Dieu non ! Tu n’as rien pris de lui le ciel soit loué ! Non, je parlais de Maximilien. Et tu lui ressembles presque trait pour trait. Chez lui, l’élégance n’était pas qu’une question d’allure mais aussi de physionomie. Et tu as la même prestance. »

Marc-Antoine « Merci Grand-Mère, c’est gentil. Allons nous monter jusqu’à l’étang ? »

Eugénie « Non, le froid fait mal à mes vieilles articulations. Nous allons rester dans le domaine pour aujourd’hui si tu le veux bien. Cela te ferait plaisir que nous montions à l’étang un jour ? »

Marc-Antoine « Oui beaucoup ! Il y a une très belle vue sur le village de là-haut. »

Eugénie « Alors dès que le temps le permettra nous irons. Aujourd’hui, j’ai envie de venir ici. Tu sais ce qu’est cet endroit ? »

Marc-Antoine « Oui, enfin un peu. Les filles n’aiment pas venir jouer ici car elles trouvent que c’est un peu glauque. Et vous dites que des fois, les fantômes des morts sortent. C’est terrifiant je trouve. »

Eugénie « Oh ils ne peuvent pas nous faire de mal. Pas plus qu’il n’en ont fait de leur vivant pour certains, en tous cas. »

Eugénie « Je voulais venir ici avec toi, spécifiquement toi. Tu sais qui repose ici j’imagine ? »

Marc-Antoine « Oui, nos ancêtres. »

Eugénie « Exactement. Tous les Le Bris qui sont nés qui sont nés sur cette terre de la Butte aux Chênes, depuis plus de cent ans. A quelques exceptions bien sur. Il y a ton grand-père, Maximilien, dont tu tiens tellement. Il y a son frère, Matthieu, et deux de ses sœurs, Lazarine et Daphné. Mes enfants enterrés bien trop tôt. Il y a aussi feu mon mari, qui malgré ses actions détestables a eu à coeur le bien être de notre famille. Il y a aussi ses parents, Jean-Pierre et Marianne, tes arrière-arrière grand-parents, ceux qui ont rebâti sur les cendres du domaine familial. »

Marc-Antoine « Et un jour... »

Eugénie « Oui, un jour il y aura tes parents, ton oncle Adelphe, puis toi, tes enfants, et les enfants de tes enfants. Et bien sur, d’ici quelques temps, vous m’y enterrerez également. »

Marc-Antoine « Vous ne mourrez jamais Grand-Mère. Oncle Adelphe dit que vous êtes une force de la nature inébranlable et bien trop têtue pour céder aux caprices du destin. »

Eugénie « C’est adorable. Mais vois-tu, j’ai déjà enterré trop d’enfants et de petits-enfants. Je suis trop usée, mon petit. Comme beaucoup de gens de mon âge, j’aspire au repos après tant d’années de bons et loyaux services. Chaque personne enterrée ici a fait son devoir au service de cette famille. »

Marc-Antoine « Quel devoir ? J’ai des devoirs envers qui ? »

Eugénie « La famille, mon petit. Nous sommes chacun ici un individu, une pièce d’un immense ensemble que nous appelons la famille Le Bris, et durant notre vie, nous ajoutons notre pierre à l’édifice. De tous ceux qui reposent ici, je crois que c’est ton grand-père Maximilien qui le comprenait le mieux. »

[fideidefenswhore]

From amongst the regalia, the [French] queen received only the ring, sceptre and crowns, but not the same crowns as the king. She was anointed only on her head and chest, not in nine different places like the king, and with only blessed oil instead of the holy oil from the Sainte Ampoule, allegedly sent from heaven for the anointing of Clovis. She took no oath, wore no special robes and was escorted to the coronation only by ‘regular’ noblemen, not by those of royal blood, the Princes du Sang. The situation in England was similar: while the queen was crowned and anointed at the same location and by the same consecrator as her husband, namely at Westminster Abbey by the archbishop of Canterbury, she received only a ring, a crown and a sceptre and rod. She was denied all of the insignia associated with St Edward—here again the founder of a Christian kingdom—in particular the chalice, as well as enthronement on his throne. She received only two, instead of six, unctions, took no oath and possessed no special robes

Gender and Ritual: Crowning Empresses in the Holy Roman Empire, by Katrin Keller

Citations: A. Hunt, The Drama of Coronation: Medieval Ceremony in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2008), pp. 22–33; T. Rose, The Coronation Ceremony of the Kings and Queens of England and the Crown Jewels (London, 1992), pp. 63–4; D. J. Sturdy, ‘“Continuity” versus “Change”: Historians and English Coronations of the Medieval and Early Modern Periods’, in J. Bák (ed.), Coronations: Medieval and Early Modern Monarchic Ritual (Berkeley, Los Angeles and Oxford, 1990), pp. 228–46; R. Strong, Coronation: A History of Kingship and the British Monarchy (London, 2005).

[empiredesimparte]

Napoléon V: No, I'm not cancelling the official trip to King Alexander of Scotland. We have to keep our commitments, and it would please the paparazzi too much anyway if there were a cancellation Hortense (reassured): Thank you… Louis

Hortense: Oliver didn't mean any harm, he just wanted to…

Napoléon V: To cause you trouble? Hortense: No! Louis!

Hortense: We both agree, he had no business publishing that picture. And I will tell him, I promise you! However, he doesn't deserve…

Napoléon V: I have done nothing, and I don't intend to do anything. Now that everything is made official, there is nothing more to do… Oliver got what he wanted, like Felipe

Hortense: Louis...

Napoléon V (sigh): Let's settle this discreetly. Call Oliver, tell him you will visit him but that I disapprove of his methods

Hortense (confused): I'm so sorry Louis… I never thought that this photo…

Napoléon V (explodes): Don't make me change my mind! All these Valois are trying to make fools of us! You were both supposed to keep a low profile until my coronation! Is that so hard to understand?!

Hortense: No, Your Majesty, it's very clear Napoléon V: Then obey! Pour l'amour de Dieu! Instead of making us look like clowns!

Hortense: We will be more careful, I promise you Louis

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Compiègne, 14 Floréal An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Mention of Duke Oliver and Prince Felipe from @officalroyalsofpierreland

⚜ Traduction française

Napoléon V : Non, je n'annule pas le voyage officiel prévu auprès du roi Alexander d'Ecosse. Nous devons tenir nos engagements, et cela ferait de toute façon trop plaisir aux paparazzi s'il y avait annulation Hortense (rassurée) : Merci... Louis

Hortense : Oliver ne pensait pas à mal, il a simplement envie de...

Napoléon V : De te créer des ennuis ? Hortense : Mais non ! Louis !

Hortense : Nous sommes d'accord tout les deux, il n'avait pas à publier cette photo. Et je le lui dirai, je te le promets ! Pour autant, il ne mérite pas...

Napoléon V : Je n'ai rien fait, et je ne compte rien faire. Maintenant que tout est rendu officiel, il n'y a plus rien à faire... Oliver a obtenu ce qu'il souhaitait, comme Felipe

Hortense : Louis...

Napoléon V : Réglons cela discrètement. Appelle Oliver, dis-lui que tu vas lui rendre visite mais que je désapprouve ses méthodes

Hortense (confuse) : Je suis tellement désolée Louis... Je n'aurais jamais pensé que cette photo...

Napoléon V (explose) : Tous ces Valois cherchent à nous ridiculiser ! Vous étiez sensés tout les deux faire profil bas jusqu'à mon couronnement ! Est-ce si compliqué à comprendre ?!

Hortense : Non, Votre Majesté, c'est très clair Napoléon V : Alors obéissez ! Bon sang ! Au lieu de nous faire passer pour des clowns !

Hortense : Nous ferons plus attention, je te le promets Louis