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when your innocent friend tells you one of their hoe stories and the sheer level of harlotry is shocking even to you
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Royal Court Wrapped
This year you:
Had 23 enemies exiled.
Poisoned 3 people.
Engaged in 18 adulterous affairs.
Were excommunicated by 2 popes.
Wore 241 gowns.
Were executed by beheading once.
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One thing about me is I will see a man who’s a little pathetic in a hot way and failing in all of his machinations at court and I’ll ask “is anyone gonna have him sent to The Tower?” and I will not wait for a response
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me when they haven't beheaded anyone for treason in a while (shortly before i am beheaded. for treason.)
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Tips for driving your man WILD in the bedchamber:
- send him to The Tower.
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This has become a most eventful series of proposals indeed… and in the midst of it all, it seems I must find a new secretary, as Master Callowthorpe has made his intentions clear to vacate the role and marry the richest and most influential of his many suitors. Clearly, he learned a great deal in his time in my household.
In a baffling turn, the honourable Lady Jane Stubbs, a woman one ambassador dubbed “the human equivalent of lettuce”, has become one of the most eligible women of the court. An entire wing of the palace chambers has now been given over to storing her numerous bouquets of flowers, love poems penned in her honour, and sundry other gifts from those vying to woo her.
Lastly, I should like to applaud the sense of Christian forgiveness that allowed so many of you to overlook the unfortunate circumstances of Mademoiselle Gabrielle’s nationality. Sadly, for many of you, this shall prove as little comfort, as she intends to pit all of her suitors against one another in a tournament to the death, and make the spouse her victor. I assume it a French custom, and thus shan’t intervene.
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A mere hour remains in which to propose a marriage, though it must be said that my ladies (and Thomas) have had no shortage of suitors this past day…
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Alas, that I only now realise I have set the polling at a mere twenty-four hours. Ah, too late to remedy the mistake now. Thus, the ladies of my household have but a single DAY to make advantageous matches, lest they be subject to the ridicule and scorn of the court.
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in disgrace at court again #justgirlythings
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Surely they can’t all be drag queens. We need some drag duchesses, drag countesses, drag marchionesses, drag alderman’s wives. The drag peerage system will fall apart if the proper order is not restored.
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its always “you murdered your husband for his fortune and his land” and “you’re a monster” and never “your black silk mourning gown looks nice” or “was the poisoning fun it looked like fun” 
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its always “you murdered your husband for his fortune and his land” and “you’re a monster” and never “your black silk mourning gown looks nice” or “was the poisoning fun it looked like fun” 
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yes I do the cooking yes I do the cleaning yes I commit the grave acts of royal treason.
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ask yourself: does he stand to inherit vast lands and estates in south Wiltshire? or is he just 6′3″?
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