#catherine of bourbon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

histoireettralala · 1 year

Text

Expansion of the royal domain

The way in which the kingdom was ruled in its different provinces had always varied according to the degree that power had been permanently or temporarily devolved to apanage princes and great nobles or that representative assemblies continued to function. It is therefore axiomatic that there was no 'system of government' in the France of the Renaissance. The question is: was there a tendency for the kingdom to become more centralised? R. Bonney has wisely cautioned against the over-use in French history of the term 'centralisation', a term coined in 1794. The main distinction drawn in the early modern period, as Mousnier made clear, was that between the king's 'delegated' and 'retained' justice, the latter covering all the public affairs of the kingdom in which the crown was supreme and the former the private affairs of his subjects. No one would pretend, however, that a clear line of division was ever established between the two.

If we consider the case of the apanages and' great fiefs, for instance, the century from the reign of Louis XI is usually considered definitive in their suppression. In 1480, there were around 80 great fiefs. By 1530 around half of these still existed. The rest were in abeyance or held by members of the royal family. Within the royal house, the apanage of Orleans was reunited to the crown on the accession of Louis XII, although thereafter used periodically for the endowment of the king's younger son, permanently so after the reign of Louis XIV. The complex of territories held by the Bourbon and Bourbon-Montpensier families fell by the treason of the Constable in 1523. Burgundy (and temporarily Artois and Franche-Comté) were taken over in 1477. Among the great fiefs, the county of Comminges was united to the crown on the death of count Mathieu de Foix in 1453, the domains of the Armagnacs (such as the county of Rodez) were confiscated on the destruction of Jean V at Lectoure in 1473. They found their way by the reign of Francis I into the hands of the royal family, through the marriage of Jean V's sister to the count of Alençon. The last Alençon duke, Charles, married Francis I's sister, Marguerite of Angoulême, and Alençon's sister, Françoise, married duke Charles of Vendôme, grandfather of Henry IV. Brittany was acquired through war and marriage alliance in the 1490s, Provence and the domains of the house of Anjou after the death of king René and then of Charles d'Anjou in 1481. The archives of the Chambre des comptes of Anjou for the early 1480s give ample evidence of the king's determination to exploit his new acquisition as soon as possible.

It should not be assumed that the crown pursued a consistent determination to lay hands on all these territories and rule them directly. There was usually a more or less lengthy period of adjustment to a new status. Some apanages and territories taken over by Louis XI were absorbed into the general administration of the rest of the kingdom. This was clearly the case with Burgundy and Picardy-Artois in 1477, both of them in the area under the jurisdiction of the Parlement of Paris. Yet even here, Louis XI had to tread warily in winning over the support of the regional nobility and discontent was apt to break out until the end of the fifteenth century. On Louis's death, for instance, a rising occurred in Picardy at Bertrancourt near Doullens, with cries of 'there is no longer a king in France, long live Burgundy!' The absorption of Artois proved to be an impossible undertaking and had to be renounced in 1493.

Elsewhere, absorption of apanages that were distant from the centre of royal power left affairs locally much as they had been before. The little Pyreneen county of Comminges was governed much as it had been under its counts, with privileges confirmed by Charles VIII in 1496. Only with the work of royal commissioners in the tax-assessing process in the 1540s, the first time an outside power had actively intervened in the affairs of the local nobility, did this begin to change. Auvergne, an apanage raised to a duchy in 1360, was confirmed to the Bourbons in 1425 on condition that their whole domain became an apanage. The duchy was confiscated from the Constable in 1523 but transferred by the king to his mother in 1527 and only absorbed into the royal domain in 1531. Even after that, it formed the dower of Charles IX's queen and then part of the apanage of François d'Anjou, his brother. In the contiguous county of Forez, also confiscated in 1523, little local opposition emerged to the change of regime; although the local chambre des comptes was shortly suppressed, most local judicial officials, along with the entire administrative structure, were retained. Except for a few partisans of the Constable, it seems that there was no great upheaval. Louise de Bourbon, the Constable's sister and princess of La Roche-sur-Yon, demanded a share of the inheritance - Forez, Beaujolais and Dombes. Beaujolais and the principality of Dombes eventually went to Louise's son, Montpensier.

The county of Auvergne, enclaved in the duchy, was held by the duke of Albany in his wife's name, and was then inherited from the last of the La Tour d'Auvergne family by Catherine de Medici. Catherine brought it to the crown by her marriage with Henri II in 1533 but she continued to administer it as her own property. She left it to Charles IX's bastard, Charles de Valois, but her daughter Marguerite made good her claim to it in 1606 and it only entered the royal domain definitively when she willed it to Louis XIII.

After her marriage to Charles VIII in 1491, Brittany was administered as her own property by queen Anne, technically still duchess but in reality sharply circumscribed in her power, until her husband's death restored some of her freedom of action in 1498. Having already established friendly relations with Louis XII when he was still duke of Orleans, she was prepared to accept his offer of marriage after the annulment of his marriage to Louis Xl's daughter, Jeanne, had been agreed. The contract which accompanied the marriage in January 1499 tied the duchy to the crown provisionally on condition that it always passed to the second son of the marriage, while in the absence of issue the duchy was to revert to Anne's heirs on her own side. Anne was able to act rather more independently during her marriage to Louis XII though the conditions of the contract were not observed. On her death Brittany was inherited by her elder daughter Claude, wife of Francis I, who transmitted her rights to her son the dauphin. The queen had, however, transferred the government of the duchy to her husband in 1515 and he continued to rule it in the name of his son François on Claude's death, entitling acts as 'legitime administrateur et usufructuaire' of his son's property. When the dauphin's majority in 1532 brought the question of the imminent personal union of the duchy to the kingdom to the foreground, it was arranged for the Breton estates to 'request' full union with France but on terms which guaranteed Breton privileges and maintained the principle that the dauphin would be duke of Brittany. Only in 1536, on the death of the dauphin, was the union with the kingdom complete and no more dukes were crowned at Rennes. What had been done was the annulment of the Breton succession law, which included females, in favour of the French royal succession law. Late in 1539, it was decided that the new dauphin Henri would have the government of Brittany 'to govern as he pleases', though the documents were delayed by the king's illness. A 'Declaration' transferring Brittany to Henri was drawn up in 1540. In practice, the government of the duchy seems not to have been much changed.

The lands of the house of France-Anjou posed a complex problem. René of Anjou, titular king of Jerusalem, Sicily, Aragon and Naples, was count of Provence in his own right, of Maine and Anjou as apanagiste and Guise by succession. As early as 1478, Louis was scheming to ensure that king René, who had no surviving son, did not leave his territories of Anjou, Provence and Bar to his grandson, René II of Lorraine, warning the general of Languedoc that his region would be 'destroyed' if Provence fell into other hands. On the 'good' king's death in 1480, most of his domains passed to his cousin Charles IV d'Anjou, count of Maine, who died childless in 1481, when Maine and Anjou reverted to the crown, thereafter to be granted out to members of the royal family such as Louise of Savoy. At the same time Provence was acquired by Louis XI by Charles IV's will and the county of Guise was disputed between the houses of Armagnac-Nemours, Lorraine (heirs of René I of Anjou and successors as titular kings of Jerusalem and Sicily) and Pierre de Rohan, marshal de Gié. From 1481, however, the king ruled in Provence as 'count of Provence and Forcalquier'. The lord of Soliès, Palamède de Forbin, who had persuaded Charles d'Anjou to leave the county to the king, was rewarded with the post of governor. The major change came in 1535 with the edicts of Joinville and Is-sur-Tille on the government of Provence, limiting the scope of the old institutions of the Estates and the Sénéchal and increasing that of the Parlement of Aix in justice and of the royal governor in administration. Curiously, Francis I was reported as having said that he felt an obligation to 'ceux de Guise', the house of Lorraine in France, since Louis XI had despoiled them of their inheritance of Provence and Anjou.

The major surviving complex of apanage lands by the middle of the sixteenth century was that held by Antoine de Bourbon, now first prince of the blood and next in line to the throne after the immediate royal family, and his wife Jeanne d'Albret. These involved a group of territories held by different tenures. The Albret inheritance brought the titular kingship of Navarre with a small fragment of the ancient kingdom of Navarre north of the Pyrénées that was held in sovereignty. In the counties of Foix, Albret and Béarn, the family held effective sway under only the most distant royal sovereignty, though Louis XI saw fit to pose as the protector of the young François-Phébus in 1472. In 1476, he sought to revise local tariffs against Albret interests and in 1480 attempts to levy a taille for the gendarmerie there stirred up a rebellion. In western France, the duchy of Vendôme, erected as late as 1515 to detach it from dependence on the duchy of Anjou, was held as an apanage under rather closer royal supervision. In the north, the complex of lands administered from La Fère-sur-Oise and centring the county of Marle was held directly of the king or of the Habsburg ruler of the Netherlands, rendering the family, to some, unreliable. Practical power stemmed from the holding of the governorships of Picardy and of Guyenne by the Bourbons and Henri d'Albret.

Other independent territories persisted, such as the vicomté of Turenne, where the vicomte (of the La Tour d'Auvergne family) ruled with regalian rights until the eighteenth century, could raise taxes, coin money, make war and render justice as a limited monarch in conjunction with very active local estates.

David Potter - A History of France, 1460-1560- The Emergence of a Nation State

4 notes · View notes

hiatuswhore · 1 year

Text

Viper IV

Reputation: The Princess of Conde, said to be a lover of games. Perhaps chess, a game requiring one to think many steps ahead and anticipate your enemies next move. For every missteps brings you closer and closer to defeat.

VIPER III: Versatility

YOU NEVER KNEW FRENCH COURT TO BE SO DULL. The privy council drolling on about issues they will never resolve. No plots or ploys, you settle on a ceasefire allowing the Queen Consort a period of reprieve. You busy yourself with strolls with Sebastian and feigning interest in many high Lord's pursuits of your hand. This does not stop the Queen Mother from focusing on your every movement. Nor are you a fool to the servant in your ranks who reports to her. All information they receive perfectly curated to your liking.

Sitting at your vanity, you huff like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Whispers containing scandals so minuscule you are certain the histories will write you as the first to truly die from boredom.

“Dahlia, any news on the parchment I sent to my brother?” You ask. The shake of your handmaiden’s head garnering another huff. “He wants me to come home, but I have far too much to do here.”

“Princess, you must stop fussing so I can finish your hair,” Dahlia’s silvery voice and gentle touch gaining an apologetic smile. The light tapping of your chamber door stills your handmaiden, your head turning toward the door. Dahlia crosses the room. Opening it, she bows respectfully before lowering her gaze and stepping aside.

“My King,” You rise to your feet, a grin on your lips as you curtsy. Francis chuckles, shaking his head as you ask what you can do for him.

“My wife seems to believe you have a vendetta against her. I am no fool of the deep care you hold for your brother. This afternoon you will invite her on your evening stroll, just the two of you,” Your head tilts to the side, a wide smile taking your features, hiding the thorns beneath rosy-colored petals.

“While I admit I was not very fond, I thought to have clarified my intentions with your wife. Very well, we will have a lovely evening at once,” Clasping your hands in front of you, stepping forward, you peck his cheek. His nose grazes your cheek as he turns to meet your gaze.

“We are not children anymore. You know this is not appropriate,” His words leave him in a breathy whisper. You wet your lips, offering a warm smile.

“I meant nothing untoward, Francis. You are dear to me. I would never have you jeopardize your honor,” Only run it off a cliff, the heat of his skin warming your own at the proximity. His head tilts forward so slightly you nearly miss it as he stiffens. You pull away first, brushing past him with a knowing smirk.

The long corridor from your chambers holds a sea of faces that matter little as you make your way to the kitchens. Fetching to chalices of wine, your smiles large as Mary and Catherine’s eyes land on you. They stand in the throne room, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

“Queen Mother. Her grace. My apologies for the intrusion. I hoped to steal the Queen for a stroll. I even brought us wine,” You say, holding out the chalice. Silence dances between the three of you. Both Catherine and Mary eye the cup in your hand warily, the smile on your lips wicked. She knows she cannot refuse. To do so slights the Princess of Conde--another slight against the De Bourbon family, her kin-in-law.

“Of course, Princess,” Mary swallows thickly, her voice wavering as her fingers brush your own against the cup. She glances at Catherine a final time before joining your side. You wear a kind smile, your airy aura filling the halls. You ramble to Mary just as you do with a dear friend, noting how the chalice in her hands has stayed there.

“What a lovely day. Isn’t it lovely?” Stepping outside, you turn to Mary, her strained smile and stiff posture fueling your amusement. Catherine stands with Francis on the second-floor terrace watching the two of you.

“Very lovely indeed,” Mary mutters, following your toothy smile up the terrace. She’s greeted with differing expressions. Francis wears one of encouragement as Catherine stands as though a guillotine awaits.

“Mary, you are not very good at this game. You went to Francis of your fears, rightful fears, but now here we are. Let me help you understand your particular situation. This is a game of reputation. I very publicly invited you to wine and a stroll. The part the people do not know is that it is at the King's behest. Now imagine if word spreads, you refused my efforts for peace after all you brought upon my brother? What a lecherous cunt,” You scoff, speaking barely above a whisper, shaking your head, a smile painting your lips. Mary’s eyes narrow, her shoulders falling at her side. Stepping into the trap before it was even set.

“I am the Queen. You are my subject in my court!” The ferocity of her tone unlike anything you ever expected of her. You would have commended her in another life, but now your smile falls as you stumble back. Mary’s frown distinct as your eyes well with tears. You shift your gaze down sharply, cowering like a frightened child—the antithesis of your nature.

“My apologies, your grace. Will you excuse me?” You curtsy, wiping the faux tear from your cheek. Mary’s eyes bounce around the open grass field. Ladies and Lords alike lounge around different fixtures watching the exchange. Realization cuts through like a blade to skin, your sorrow not reaching your eyes. Oh, how this game suits you.

“Princess,” Mary breathes out, watching as you fiddle with your fingers. The comely and giving Princess standing before the aggressor, the cruel Queen.

“My apologies, your grace. I know our histories are—” You cry out, the approaching mop of blonde hair arriving with impeccable timing.

“Mary, a word,” The clench of the King’s jaw clear despite the mask of calm he wears. You offer a respectful curtsy heading back toward the castle with your head low. Inside, Catherine greets you with a sneer; taking her hands, you smile.

“I detest you. You wretched girl,” Catherine squeezes your hands tights, to onlookers a warm exchange between family. The Queen Mothers' smile as warm and deceitful as your own.

“Oh, Catherine. To hate me is to hate yourself. I learned all I know from watching you,” You lean forward, kissing both her cheeks. The softening of her glare was not lost on you before excusing yourself. Like wildfire, the word spread of your exchange; invitations of tea and strolls pouring into your chamber like water to a glass.

By noon, you receive word of a private family supper. You naturally assume it to be the workings of Francis but still consider others. While Mary navigates your game as well as a blind man at sea, you await Catherine to guide her hand. You wear a courteous smile as the hundredth invite for tea arrives, your empty promises of soon arranging a meeting becoming almost instinctive.

“(Y/n)!” Your eyes widen at the squeal. Claude rushes down the corridor, her arms wide open. She nearly tackles you to the ground in a hug, squeezing so tight it may very well suffocate you.

“Thank god! This place is so terribly boring,” You exclaim, stepping off to the side. Claude smirks. “I was so upset to learn I had just missed by mere hours the day I arrived.”

“I hear my brother's wife made you cry, and I know for certain that is not the case. You must tell me your machinations at once,” Claude whispers, leaning in close. The two of you stop at the corner, appearing like giddy children.

“That would spoil the fun dear cousin!” You say, crossing your arms and mirroring her smirk.

“The Scottish Queen is doomed then, but that must wait. We have much to catch up on,” Claude hooks her arm in your own. She leads you down the hall, her animated rambling taking the whole of the conversation as you listen intently.

“You slept with Ser Harlin?” You gasp, stopping in your tracks. The French Princess bit her bottom lip, grinning like a madwoman. She spares you not a single detail of her exploits with the pagan warrior, a burly man of few words.

“How have you not? I know, no Lord who looks like him. We must have our fun before our brothers decide to try and marry us off,” Claude says, shrugging your shoulders, your matter-of-fact tone dripped in certainty, “I believe my brother knows if he forces a husband upon me, that poor soul will not make it to our marital bed.”

“Well, if Francis makes me marry, can I count on your diligence in my indoctrination to widowhood?” Claude teases. Nodding your head, you stand straight up with a playfulness to your tone, “I swear this oath to you in perpetuity, my princess.”

“I see you two muck about once more,” Francis greets his sister with a warm hug, his eyes meeting yours with a long pause. Claude’s gaze bounces between the two of you, chuckling shamelessly.

“All these years and nothing changes. Well, you two clearly need a moment. Mother!” Claude calls out, skipping away before either of you can say a word. You bite the inside of your cheek, certain you will not lead this conversation.

“I wish to apologize on behalf of Mary,” Francis says, studying how you render your face expressionless.

“It’s clear the Queen does not seek forgiveness, but who I am to ask that of the Queen. I do not believe she likes me very much. I think I should soon leave,” You shrug your shoulders, pursing your lips. A huff leaves him, taking the bait as easily as you threw it.

“You will do no such thing. I want you here, so that is where you shall be.” Francis taking your hand in his own, the closeness intoxicating—inviting far too inappropriate for the open hall. You wet your lips, watching his eyes travel to them.

“Of course, my King.” The batting of your lashes and low hum of your voice garnering a deep sigh. Francis closes his eyes, rolling back his shoulders as he releases your hand. “Are you unwell, your grace?”

“You very well know what I am at this given second,” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. Leaning in closer, your pointed stare and lopsided grin doing the young King no favors.

“You are King, Francis. It is well within your right to reach for what you want. Who you want,” Placing your hand on his shoulder, you trail your pointer finger up the side of his neck and back down at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“I will not be my father,” Francis says, disappearing into his own mind before you. Your hand travels up to his cheek, pulling him back to the present, testing your limits with your thumb tracing his bottom lip.

“You could never. Far too honorable. Too good,” You draw your words out, the slow whisper and dark eyes evaporating those around you from view. The few who linger in the corridor pretend as though you both are not the center of attention. You lean up, pecking his cheek once more, resting your cheek against his, your breath tickling his ear. Your eyes on the dark mop of hair down the hall, “I am your first love. Mary shall be your last, it seems. Your grace.”

You step back, noting how he stares at you, the adoration clear as day. Curtsying, you brush past him. At the end of the hall, you stop shoulder-to-shoulder with the Scottish Queen. Her glassy staring forward as though someone has commanded it. You do not spare her glance on even turn to address her, your face now one of stone.

“Please, Princess. Ask anything of me, and it is yours.” Mary swallows thickly, her eyes on her husband's back as he continues down the hall. When he turns the corner, she turns to you, your gaze still forward.

“Your demise.”

MASTERLIST

88 notes · View notes

the-paintrist · 28 days

Text

Jacques Augustin Catherine Pajou - Louis-Alexandre Berthier, Prince de Neufchâtel et de Wagram, maréchal de France - 1808

oil on canvas, height: 215 cm (84.6 in); width: 133 cm (52.3 in)

Palace of Versailles

Louis-Alexandre Berthier (20 November 1753 – 1 June 1815), Prince of Neuchâtel and Valangin, Prince of Wagram, was a French military commander who served during the French Revolutionary Wars and the Napoleonic Wars. He was twice Minister of War of France and was made a Marshal of the Empire in 1804. Berthier served as chief of staff to Napoleon Bonaparte from his first Italian campaign in 1796 until his first abdication in 1814. The operational efficiency of the Grande Armée owed much to his considerable administrative and organizational skills.

Born into a military family, Berthier served in the American Revolutionary War and survived suspicion of monarchism during the Reign of Terror before a rapid rise in the ranks of the French Revolutionary Army. Although a key supporter of the coup against the Directory that gave Napoleon supreme power, and present for his greatest victories, Berthier strongly opposed the progressive stretching of lines of communication during the Russian campaign. Allowed to retire by the restored Bourbon regime, he died of unnatural causes shortly before the Battle of Waterloo. Berthier's reputation as a superb operational organiser remains strong among current historians.

Jacques-Augustin-Catherine Pajou (27 August 1766, Paris - 28 November 1828, Paris) was a French painter in the Classical style.

#Jacques-Augustin-Catherine Pajou #france #neoclassicism #portrait #historical

9 notes · View notes

charlotte-of-wales · 10 months

Text

Pélagie de Mac Mahon, now Princess of Bourbon-Parma, poses on her wedding day wearing a tiara and a pair of earrings lent to her by her maternal aunt Catherine Drummond-Herdman, daughter of the late Cherry Drummond, 16th Baroness Strange | July 8th, 2023

credits

#weddings #deposed royals #jewelry #tiaras

26 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 5 months

Text

On December 5th 1560 King Francis II of France, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots, died.

Although not crowned it has to be remembered that Francis was also King consort of Scotland.

Francis was born on 19 January 1544, the eldest son of Henry II of France and Catherine de Medici, he was named for his grandfather, King Francis I.

When Francis was four years old, the Scots and French signed the Treaty of Haddington in July 1548 arranging the betrothal of Mary Queen of Scots and the dauphin Francis in return for French aid to expel the invading English. Mary Queen of Scots sailed from Dumbarton for France in the August of 1548 when she was but five years old. The young Queen was accompanied by her four Marys, the daughters of Scottish noble families, Mary Beaton, Mary Seton, Mary Fleming and Mary Livingston.

Mary spent the rest of her childhood at the court of her father-in-law, Henri II Her father-in-law, Henry II of France wrote 'from the very first day they met, my son and she got on as well together as if they had known each other for a long time'. Mary was a pretty child and brought up in the same nursery as her future husband and his siblings, became very attached to him. She corresponded regularly Mary of Guise , who remained in Scotland to rule as regent for her daughter. Much of her early life was spent at Château de Chambord. She was educated at the French court learning French, Latin, Greek, Spanish and Italian and enjoyed falconry, needlework, poetry, prose, horse riding and playing musical instruments.

Mary was the cosseted darling of the French court, the doting Henri II wrote 'The little Queen of Scots is the most perfect child I have ever seen.' He corresponded frequently with Mary of Guise, expressing his delight in his young daughter-in-law. Mary's maternal grandmother, Antoinette of Guise, in a letter to her daughter in Scotland, stated that she found Mary ' very pretty, graceful and self assured.'

Francis and Mary were married with spectacular pageantry and magnificence in the cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris, by the Cardinal Archbishop of Rouen, in the presence of Henry II, Queen Catherine de' Medici and a glittering throng of cardinals and nobles. The French courtier Pierre de Brantôme described Mary as ‘a hundred times more beautiful than a goddess of heaven … her person alone was worth a kingdom.’

Among the wedding guests was one, James Hepburn Earl of Bothwell. Francis was fourteen and Mary fifteen at the time, Francis then held the title King consort of Scotland until his death.

When Henri II was killed during a jousting contest, incidentally by Gabriel de Lorges, Comte de Montgomery, Captain of The Scots Guard, and a descendant of Alexander Montgomerie of Auchterhouse, Mary's young husband Francois ascended the throne. Francis was reported to have found the crown of France so heavy that the nobles were obliged to hold it in place for him.

The young Francis became a tool of Mary's maternal relations, the ambitious Guise family, who seized the chance for power and hoped to crush the Huguenots in France. The Huguenot leader, Louis de Bourbon, prince de Condé plotted the conspiracy of Amboise in March 1560, an abortive coup d'etat in which Huguenots surrounded the Château of Amboise and attempted to seize the King. The conspiracy was savagely put down, and its failure led to increase the power of the Guises. This alarmed the king 's mother, Catherine de Medici, who reacted by attempting to secure the appointment of the moderate Michel de L'Hospital as chancellor.

During the autumn of 1560 François became increasingly ill, and died from the complications of an ear condition, in Orléans, Loiret. Since the marriage had borne no children, the French throne passed to his 10-year-old brother, Charles IX. Mary was said to be grief-stricken Multiple diseases have been suggested as the cause of Francis' death, such as mastoiditis, meningitis, or otitis exacerbated into an abscess. Francis was buried in the Basilica of St Denis.

There was no place for the seventeen year old Mary, Queen of Scots in France, she prepared to return to her native Scotland with an uncertain future that would hold.

#scotland #scottish #France french #Monarch #king #hist

16 notes · View notes

ricard-blythe-ffxiv · 4 months

Text

Dinner and a Surprise

Rare was the day that snow did not cover the grounds of the Blythe estate - such was the way of most of the properties within the city of Ishgard, but it made for a spectacular sight during the Starlight season. At the direction of Catherine Blythe, the staff were well versed in just how to decorate the grounds to become a sight to behold, welcoming those who might visit during the season to the estate.

Within the estate the Lady Blythe, as she often was on the eve of such events, like the Starlight family dinner was busy seeing to it that final details were seen to - flitting around from room to room and speaking with various staff members.

Her son and husband? They were busy seated within the sitting room, Gerald reviewing whatever the newspaper had to say for the day, and Ricard enjoying a glass of bourbon and barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes and check the timepiece that was currently neatly tucked into his vest. “Checking again isn’t going to make your mother’s guest arrive any faster.”

“The woman is a business associate. I don’t understand what in the world prompted mother to invite a business associate to a family dinner of all things…”

Gerald barely lowered the edge of the paper, narrowing his eyes at his son. “Besides the fact that she doesn’t believe you? Then we’ll say because she thinks it will be entertaining. And keep in mind, Ricard…Lady Gray could have said no.”

Ricard lifted his glass to his lips as he heard one of the staff move towards the door and his father shrugged a shoulder easily. “But, it would seem, she has decided to grace us with her presence after all, hm?”

She had been greeted at the door, snow decorating her raven locks before they eventually melted away upon entering and being surrounded by the warmth of a well tended Ishgardian home. Cordelia was hardly sure what the evening would bring but there were a multitude of reasons she had accepted Lady Blythe’s invitation, one of them being that the woman couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make the younger Blythe sweat a little.

Rounding the corner to the sitting room where she was guided, the specter of a woman likely seemed a bit out of place with her dark crimson and obsidian black fabrics. Even still, she donned a faint smile as she entered and nodded lowly in greeting. “Lord and Lady Blythe, Ricard.” She began, greeting each of them directly, assuming that the man sitting with Ricard had been his father. “Thank you again for the kind invitation into your home.”

Catherine paused what she was doing, giving some additional directions to staff it seemed, to smile in Cordelia’s direction. “Ah, Lady Gray, welcome. Please come in and make yourself comfortable. This is my husband Gerald -” She waited a moment for Gerald to pick up on the hint before disappearing after one of the staff once again.

Ricard gave a small shake of his head followed by a chuckle. His mother never was able to sit still long during any ‘formal’ event.

Gerald had set his paper aside, an older version of Ricard…there was little doubt the younger Blythe was related to these two individuals - with salt and pepper hair, a full beard, and kind blue eyes, stood and offered a small bow before motioning towards the nearby open chairs. “As my wife said, please, come in and make yourself comfortable. Dinner won’t be ready for a little bit yet and Catherine has a tendency to not sit still until it’s time to actually sit down. Join us for a drink?” Gerald turned, narrowing his eyes at his son who caught the look and set his glass down before standing to adjust his jacket and vest.

Ricard took his time wandering over, with his back turned to his parents he allowed his gaze to drift over the length of Cordelia’s form for a moment before quirking an eyebrow and giving a lazy grin, followed by a small bow. “Welcome, Lady Gray.” He offered his arm - motioning towards one of the open seats, “Shall we? What can we offer you in terms of refreshment?”

Cordelia nodded to Ricard as he approached and bowed, taking note of his grin as she flashed a brief smirk at him. She looped her arm around his own and held to it as they passed through the room until she took the empty seat he offered her. “Mm, wine, red please?” Her gaze flicked about the room curiously, taking in the decor before her attention settled on Gerald and then Catherine. “Your home is beautiful. Surely Lady Blythe will join us for a drink as well?”

“Thank you, I’m sure Catherine will appreciate the compliment, should she ever stop and sit for more than a few moments.” Gerald shrugged easily. “But this is the way she is. She’ll slow down just before we move into the dining hall for dinner. Best to just let her be for the time being.”

It didn’t take long for a staff member to arrive with her glass of wine, and a second staff member to stoke the fire, leaving the three to speak and drink at their leisure. “So, Lady Gray - my son says that you’re a business associate of his, which would mean that by extension you are a business associate of mine, since we work together. Not that I plan on asking about work all evening long. Tell me - does your family do much in the way of celebrating Starlight?”

Ricard sat nearby, nursing his drink, content to listen in on the conversation for the time being.

She offered an understanding and curt smile, glancing over to the ever moving woman with a slightly raised brow before deciding to let her be and provide her full attention to the Blythe men. Accepting the offered wine, Cordelia sipped it gingerly, savoring the rich taste of the flavors and pressing her lips together once the glass was lowered. “Ah, well it would seem we are, in that case.” She flicked her gaze to Ricard briefly before continuing further with Gerald’s questions. “I don’t have much in the way of family anymore, unfortunately, though even when my parents were alive they weren’t much for holidays. A dinner, similar and yet much quainter than this perhaps but nothing grand.”

“Quaint and quiet would be appreciated and perhaps the more appropriate route, as it’s often just the three of us.” At this, Ricard did speak up, leaning back in his seat, his glass lazily cradled in one hand. “But heaven forbid mother do anything ‘small’.”

“I wasn’t asking you, son. I’m well aware of how your holidays have been celebrated.” Gerald shot his son a scolding look before turning his attention back to their guest. “Tell me then, Lady Gray, how did my wife convince you to attend this evening as she - as much as I don’t want to admit my son is correct - rarely does anything small.”

Cordelia held silent for the moment, bouncing between father and son as they spoke. “Well…” She began, pausing long enough to return the wine glass to her lips to allow for a brisk sip of the crimson liquid before breaking into a soft chuckle “...Admittedly, she simply asked. Starlight may have never been big in my life or my family’s life but I’m not above trying to enjoy it.” At this, she shifted to set her glass aside to a nearby table, hands smoothing out the fabrics of her gown after she settled back into her seat.

“Well, we are happy to have you and I hope it will be a relaxing and enjoyable evening for you. Despite the way my wife is currently scampering about, and the way Ricard speaks of it, I assure you it is quite a quiet affair.”

Ricard hummed at that, an eyebrow quirking as he raised his glass to his lips, taking a loooong sip.

“Fine, generally a quiet affair.”

Another sound - this one in agreement - came from Ricard as he motioned for a refill.

She was beginning to thoroughly catch on that Ricard was enthused about the evening’s events, Catherine wasn’t wrong about it having ruffled his feathers. “I have no doubt it will be an enjoyable evening.” Reaching for the wine glass once more, she indulged in another taste. “You said that you and Ricard work together in the same business? What other endeavors is your family involved in?”

“We run a financial institution, primarily. Focusing on advising and assisting our clientele in managing their funds. My father did the same before me, and should Ricard ever manage to settle down and have children of his own, the expectation would be that one of his children would follow in the same footsteps. It’s a well established family trade.” Gerald glanced over towards his son for a moment. “He’s always had an eye for details, and so it was easy for him to pick up on what was required.”

Ricard piped up for a moment. “My father is the ‘lead’ partner of the firm, at the current time. I would be considered the ‘junior’ partner. Though, in reality we both have the same responsibilities in regards to our clients. Well - ” He offered a quick nod towards Cordelia. “As you well know - my work for you is in that arena.” He gave an easy, conspiratorial grin before lifting his glass once again.

There was a slight twitch to her features, lips tugging into a smirk before she mirrored the movement of bringing her own glass up to finish the contents. “Ah, yes I do. I must say, I have been quite pleased with the services I’ve received thus far. I’m sure the business will do well under his lead when that time comes.” She nodded once, returning the glass to the table and shaking a head, putting a hand up to say not to a refill.

That earned a chuckle from Gerald, “Take care not to over-inflate his ego, my lady. We may not be able to fit into the dining hall, if you do.”

“Oh, his head doesn’t get that large, dear. Only perhaps half the size of the dining hall.” It was now that Catherine wandered back in, seemingly settled and took a seat next to her husband. “I trust that these boys have been behaving themselves, Lady Gray?”

Cordelia had parted her lips in preparation of retort to Gerald when her attention was pulled away. Her eyes quickly flicked to Catherine upon her arrival, watching her cross the room to finally take a seat with the rest of her family. “Oh, of course, the best behavior. We were talking a bit of business but I believe perhaps the shop talk reached the pinnacle just now. I hope you’re well.”

“Quite. And very glad to hear that someone is behaving.” Her gaze narrowed in Ricard’s direction.

He shrugged lazily. “Ye of little faith, mother. I’m always well behaved.”

Catherine was starting to respond when there came a noticeable knock from the front hall, her brow furrowing in confusion before she glanced up at Gerald. “We’re not expecting any additional guests, are we dear?”

“Not that I know of…”

Ricard, being the nearest to the hall, set his glass aside and stood. “I’ll see what’s going on…just a moment.” He offered a quick nod to his parents and to Cordelia before stepping out into the hall walking down a ways before he spotted several staff gathered and where his was quickly met by a panicked Victor - one of his staff from the Milner estate- just inside the front door, pale-faced and stuttering, barely able to get words out, much less meet his gaze.

“Master…master Blythe! Delivery at the Milner…Milner estate. Terrible, sir…cannot…sir, I cannot….”

“Calm down, man…will one of you get the poor man a drink to steady his nerves, see if we can make sense of what he’s saying?”

It was entertaining enough watching the Blythes interact, Cordelia had little to interject as they went back and forth, though the air stilled around her as the sounds of the panicked man filled the hallway and echoed toward the sitting room. She glanced at Catherine and Gerald with a furrowed brow, shifting uneasily in her seat before pushing to stand.

Instinctively, she wanted to follow behind Ricard, curiosity and admittedly a bit of unexpected concern rising in her chest, but she lingered a moment having not wished to involve herself in matters that did not already do so. But still, her feet slowly began carrying her toward the door to the hallway. “Ricard? Is everything alright?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out.” He glanced over his shoulder for a moment before turning back to Victor, quickly handing him a glass of bourbon when it was offered to him.

The poor boy knocked it back in one swift gulp, not recognizing what it was and sputtering for a minute or two before finally catching his breath.

“You’re supposed to sip it, Victor.”

“Never…never had hard liquor, sir.”

“Seems I’ve been remiss in your education then…” Ricard tried not to roll his eyes before motioning for the younger man to try again. “Well? What’s got you all worked up.”

“...There was a delivery at the Milner estate, sir. I…I…can’t say it here in the hall…”

“Then whisper it to me, Victor, just tell me what the hell is going on.”

The younger man squirmed for a long moment before nodding and leaning in to whisper into Ricard’s ear. As he did so, Ricard stilled, eyes going wide as his jaw and fists clenched tightly. “You’re sure?”

“Yes…yes sir. The poor maid vomited everywhere when she opened it…”

“Return to the estate, make sure the maid is well compensated and sent home - with an escort, check in with Delwyn and his team. Send word for them to return. I’ll be returning to the estate as soon as I can.”

“Yes…yes sir.” Victor turned and quickly exited the manor without another word.

Ricard exhaled slowly, shoulders tight, anger radiating off his form as he turned towards Cordelia, taking her by the hand and guiding her into one of the side rooms - well out of earshot from the staff. “...A box arrived at the Milner estate earlier this evening. It contained five sets of eyes, Cordelia, and a message. Those eyes belonged to my men…the men who were tailing Damien.”

Cordelia was surprised by the sudden removal from everything, she had watched on from a distance but couldn’t make out much of what was said but knew it wasn’t good. But this, this is not what she expected nor had she been prepared for it. Her lips had parted, though for once she was initially at a lack of words.

“You’re sure?” She asked, her hands coming to rest on her hips, brows furrowed even further as her own anger rose. “Twelve be damned, of course it was him. That fragile little man…” her gaze floated off from Ricard as she cursed under her breath and silently went about options silently in her mind of how to handle the situation at hand. “What do you want to do?” The question came abruptly, short and sharp in tone.

“I don’t know if he’s the one who did the deed…though how he would’ve had the information or found the men without additional help…No, there’s Cress involvement written all over this.” He growled under his breath. “Tailing is no longer an option. I need to fuck with something a little closer to home.”

His tongue dragged across one of his canines slowly. “Tell me, Cordelia…what do you know about little lord Gray’s financial history…?”

Her arms moved now to cross over her abdomen with a heavy sigh. “Of course, it’s unlikely his hands did the deed, I’m not sure he has the stomach for that…” Cordelia tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. Lips pressed together in a hum, her tongue running over her teeth to make a soft tch. “Not much of his personal history. Ambrose offered him a monthly allowance, it aided in keeping up his staff and the stables for the Chocobos… I cut off the allowance for the stables, allowed the continuance for the house staff. I’m really not versed in how well his breeding and racing does.”

She paused, moving to take a few steps around the room in thought. “He once was helping with the shipments of our goods and materials which offered another line of payments but he’s since been… replaced.” Her eyes glanced to Ricard on the final word before she continued. “He’s recently come to me in search of a truce, an end to the bickering I suppose. Which I took at face value as I’m sure he’s been scheming something else. Though, Ricard, I’m not sure I want to meddle with a deal with the Cress family.”

Ricard exhaled sharply before running a hand through his hair, pacing as he collected his thoughts. “Then what would you have me do, Cordelia?” He motioned vaguely towards the window. “I had every intention of leaving well enough alone and never mentioning the name Cress again, but I informed Vahalia of what was found and now I have five dead men. It’s difficult to just overlook.”

He paused, turning to look at her, “And if I pause - because tailing is no longer an option, I won’t lose my entire network for this man - then what of our arrangement?”

The two were pacing the room in tandem, the ever growing tension felt in the air and yet Cordelia was as calm as ever. “ I don’t know what you should do,what we should do. Not yet anyways.” His follow up question caused her footsteps to stop, slowly turning to face him with a slightly raised brow. She was honestly surprised that was a concern of his at the present.

“I was unaware that our arrangement held a priority.” She started with a muted tone, gauging his demeanor as she stepped toward him. “However, considering the events as they have followed, I would absolve you of the contract, offer your final pay that is due. What you choose to do personally after that will have no connection in the business we previously have conducted. Unless you have other suggestions.”

“I make sure my clients are taken care of, Cordelia. So while yes, at the moment making sure my remaining men are seen to - this arrangement needs to be addressed as well.” He gave a long exhale, his eyes closed for a moment. “I don’t leave matters half finished…I’ll have to scale back for a time…rebuild - ” He paused as there was a knock at the door, followed by the voice of one of the staff.

“Master Blythe…sir, your father is wondering if everything is alright…”

“Fine…we’ll be right there…”

Cordelia had begun to offer a response when the knock came to the door, she allowed for the exchange before opting to continue. “Ricard… I think the job is done.” Her voice was lowering now, still calm and with little emotion almost as if she were attempting to reassure him, in her own way of course.

Ricard stopped, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I do have a backup, an option I’ve been holding on to in case we needed something … or someone closer to him. I just need someone willing to do it and that’s not you, not only would you be easily found out but quite frankly I’d rather not have you cozying up to kitchen staff for information. I can figure out the finer details and get back to you on that, if you wish to be involved but I see no reason for you to continue to put yourself in a reasonably unsettling position simply for your need to see out terms. It was my contract and if I deem it concluded then so it should be.”

“…if that’s what you want.” He started to speak again before another knock at the door interrupted him again.

“Ricard…honestly son, if you wanted privacy…”

“That’s not…” he sighed before moving to open the door to find his father on the other side. “There was a business concern that came up, as you can see - there’s nothing inappropriate that happened in the last several minutes.” He stepped back, motioning to his clothes, and then towards his guest.

Gerald quirked an eyebrow, suspiciously. “As you say, son…but best return soon, your mother already has…questions.”

Cordelia gingerly reached out to graze Richard’s arm, trying to bring him back to the moment. “We can discuss this further after dinner or perhaps even tomorrow once we have had time to consider options. Let’s not keep your mother waiting.” She straightened her posture and adjusted the fabric of her gown, smoothing it out delicately.

“Of course…” He nodded, motioning for Cordelia to head out first, and narrowing his eyes at his father as the pair walked behind and back towards the sitting room where his mother was waiting rather impatiently.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What was that about?”

“A business issue, that’s all. Nothing that needs to be discussed right this second, again.”

Catherine looked…unconvinced, but chose to let it go. For the moment, anyway.

“Apologies for the interruption, Lady Blythe, it seems work doesn’t pause for holidays, hm?” Cordelia chimed, entering the room with a calm demeanor with unreadable features to easily give off the illusion of nothing being wrong. Her hands clasped together at her lower abdomen as she glanced over her shoulder to Ricard. “No more business for the evening.”

Ricard shrugged easily, moving to grab a glass and filled it quickly with bourbon, taking a long sip before offering a nod. “Right, no more business…not for tonight at least.”

Catherine hummed before taking a sip of her wine and standing gracefully. “Well, fortunately for you two, whatever business you had to see to helped you avoid small talk, we’ve been informed that dinner is ready…shall we?”

Gerald clapped a hand on Ricard’s shoulder before offering his wife his arm, waiting for Catherine to take it before leading her down the hall.

Ricard gave a long exhale before turning to Cordelia and doing the same. “Here goes nothing?”

Cordelia watched as Catherine and Gerald made their way from the room before moving to hook her arm with Ricard’s, giving him a pointed look and inhaling deeply. “Considering everything we’ve dealt with thus far, I’m sure dinner will be simple…” she murmured under her breath to him as she allowed herself to be led behind the other couple and toward the dining room where she would come to take the seat she was offered.

“Either you and I have very different definitions of simple, or you’re highly optimistic, Lady Gray.” Ricard’s gaze cut to her for a moment.

The dining room itself was lavishly decorated - the table laid out and the staff prepared to meet the four guests as they entered. It was clear the staff was well trained, and that entertaining was something that Catherine and Gerald did regularly (even if Ricard seemed to drag his heels about it). Course by course was brought out - one seamlessly transitioned to the next, and while it did appear that at least a time or two Catherine had a rather poignant question right on the tip of her tongue either a staff member appeared just in time to cut it off (unlikely) or Gerald knew his wife well enough to know when to to intervene (the more likely of the two).

Either way - Ricard wasn’t upset when the desserts were brought out, quietly making a mental note that he owed his father…something. A box of cigars or an expensive bottle of bourbon - he’d figure the details out later.

Catherine set her fork down before reaching for her small coffee cup, casting her son a curious glance before turning her attention to Cordelia. “I hope all has been to your liking, Lady Gray.”

Just as Cordelia had hoped and anticipated, the dinner went rather smoothly in comparison to how the night had begun. She had far been done with the dessert, setting her own utensils aside to also take up her own coffee and indulging in a warming sip. “Yes, of course. We are all still intact and enjoying a lovely dessert, couldn’t ask for more.” Her tone was teased at playfulness as she returned her cup back to the table before her and glanced to Ricard. “Right, Ricard?”

Fingers lightly drumming against the side of his own cup, his thoughts traveling a malm a minute as they had been most of the evening, his gaze snapped up at the sound of Cordelia’s voice. His mother’s questions he could almost guess and answer by heart - Cordelia’s he actually paid attention to. He chuckled, with a small smile before turning to his mother with a nod, “It was wonderful, as always mother - you truly have outdone yourself this year.”

Gerald, watching the exchange, turned to his wife before reaching for his cup. “Satisfied, dear?”

Blue eyes, much like her son’s glanced between those seated at the table, taking on an all-too familiar mischievous edge as she leaned back cupping her coffee cup between her hands. “So, then…can we expect you to attend more events should we be hosting them, Lady Gray.”

That earned her an exasperated sigh from both her husband, and especially from her son.

“Mother…”

“Catherine, enough. The young lady was kind enough to join us this evening - but they have both stated that they are business associates and nothing more. IF they were courting that would be one thing, but they are not. Leave the matter be. While Lady Gray is welcome to join us at any time,-” Gerald turned towards Cordelia with a nod, “- and you are.” He then turned back to his wife, “She is certainly under no obligation to continue to answer this line of questioning.”

Cordelia initially sat in silence, glancing between the family members with a raised brow, lips tugged into a bit of a smirk. Eventually her gaze fell back to Ricard, a knowing look in her steel gray hues as she looked at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “I understand your desire to have Ricard marry, Lady Blythe, the need for continuing a family name is ever present and a heavy burden.” She began, setting her cup to the table and turning her attention back to Catherine. “I am only just over a year widowed and Ricard seems to be enjoying being a bachelor for the time being. Then again, it is none of my business, of course.”

Blue eyes maintained that mischievous edge behind her coffee cup. “But it could be.”

“Right. Well, on that note, mother, I believe Lady Gray has made her stance very clear. I know I’ve made my stance very clear so - I think it’s best that we wrap up the evening before you try to convince anyone to enter into anything binding, which, everyone seems to be in agreement, will not be happening anytime in the near future.”

Ricard’s eyes narrowed at his mother as he adjusted his vest, clearly preparing to make his exit.

“It doesn’t completely negate the possibility entirely though…”

“Keep pushing, mother…keep pushing…” he turned to Cordelia, “Lady Gray, may I see you home this evening - since you’ve endured this line of questioning for this long?”

The dark haired woman cleared her throat and placed her hands to the table, pushing back from it enough to stand. “Mm, of course.” She moved to follow Ricard, though paused to flash a faint smile to Gerald and Catherine, her eyes falling to linger on the latter. “Should things change, surely you will be notified.” Her tone was low and likely not meant to be entirely serious, but she couldn’t help but look at Ricard with a smirk before winking in his direction.

She was enjoying this.

Ricard watched the exchange, head tilting ever so slightly as he stood, waiting for Cordelia by the door. His gaze drifted to his mother for a moment, who was watching the pair with clear interest.

“Oh…I’m sure I will. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lady Gray.” Catherine turned to Ricard for a moment before the pair exited. “Ricard, I expect we’ll hear from you soon, yes?”

“Of course, mother…Lady Gray.” Ricard turned, offering Cordelia his arm before turning to lead her from the room, and from his mother’s ever watchful gaze.

As Cordelia finished crossing the room, she looped her arm with Ricard’s before regarding the Blythe’s one last time. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord Blythe, and thank you both again for inviting me into your home.” When she turned back to Ricard and they exited the room, she gave him a knowing look and offered a shrug as she continued to hold her devilish grin. “Could have gone worse.”

“You realize you’ve added fuel to the fire, yes?” He nodded to staff as their coats were brought to them. After assisting her with hers, he slid his on and offered her his arm again. “One might start to think that you enjoy having me around, the way you were teasing my mother.”

She chuckled quietly as he helped her with her coat, fingers then went about fastening the buttons to ensure she was snug. Scoffing, she took his arm yet again. “Perhaps I’m simply enjoying putting you on edge. Then again, I never said I didn't enjoy having you around.” Cordelia’s point was always hard to decipher, her tone often muted and without strong infliction. This time was no different.

That earned her a small scoff, though he managed to keep it down until they’d stepped outside. “There are other ways of putting me one edge besides ramping up my mother’s hopes of pushing me into a relationship, Cordelia.” He exhaled tiredly. “And while that is amusing and all…at some point we’ll need to sort out that other rather pressing issue…eyes and all….”

The cool breeze tickled her cheeks as they now stood outside his family home, the tip of her nose quickly turning a light pink. “Ah, yes…that is a dilemma.” Her free arm reached around to rest her hand to his forearm. “One we should discuss once you have taken me home and I am a bit more comfortable.”

Ricard nodded, guiding her through the well-known streets of the city towards her estate and keeping his head down, but eyes open and scanning, significantly more on edge now than he had been at the beginning of the evening. “Of course - though how comfortable you’d like to be, that I leave to your discretion…this is going to be a rather long discussion.”

“After tonight? I would say rather comfortable.” Cordelia retorted promptly as they continued their trek through the cold Ishgardian streets toward the promise of a warm home and perhaps a little more.

Collaborative writing with @promethea-silk

#collaborative writing #the perceptive smartass #the weaver #it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye #or five someones in this case

7 notes · View notes

comtessezouboff · 1 year

Text

Louis XIV's Gallery of Beauties

A retexture by La Comtesse Zouboff — Original Mesh by @thejim07

This set of 20 portraits was comissioned by the king himself in the 1650s to Charles and Henri Beaubrun (except for a portrait of Henrietta Anna of England, Comissioned to Nicolas Mignard) The portraits comprises the queen, royal princesses and ladies of the court. They hanged at the king's appartments at Versailles. In the 1670s the paintings were progressively relegated to the king's minor residences, but in 1837, Louis-Philippe, King of the French turned Versailles into a museum and rejoined the paintings, in the Louis XIV Rooms, where they remain.

The set includes 20 portraits, with the original frame swatches, fully recolorable. The portraits are of:

Anne Genèvieve de Bourbon, Duchess d'Estouteville and Longueville

Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart (later, Marquise de Montespan)

Anna Martonozzi, Princess of Conti

Anne Louise Boyer, Duchess of Noailles

Anne Marie Gonzaga, Countess Palatine

Anne de Rohan-Chabot, Princess de Soubise

Catherine Henriette d'Harcourt, Duchess d'Arpajon

Catherine de Neuville, Countess d'Armagnac

Charlotte Catherine de Gramont, Proncess of Monaco

Charlotte Isabelle Angélique de Montmorency-Bouteville, Duchess of Mecklenburg-Schwerin

Elizabeth of Orléans, Duchess of Guise and Joÿeuse

Françoise Madeleine d'Orléans (née de Valois) Duchess of Savoy

Françoise Mignot, Mareschalle of l'Hospital

Françoise de Neufville, Duchess of Chaulnes

Gabrielle-Louise de Saint-Simon, Duchess of Brissac

Henrietta Anna of England, Duchess of Orléans

Madeleine-Charlotte d'Albert-d'Ailly, Duchess of Foix

Marguerite Louise d'Orléans, Grand Duchess of Tuscany

Marguerite-Louise-Suzanne de Béthune-Sully, Countess of Gyche

Marie Thérèse of Austria, Queen Consort of France and Navarre

Found under Decor > Paintings for 940 §

Retextured from the "portrait of Anne Marie Louise d'Orléans", found here

Table, torcheres and floor by @thejim07

Rest of the decor by @joojconverts

Drive

(Sims3pack | package)

(Useful tags)

@joojconverts @ts3history @ts3historicalccfinds @deniisu-sims @katsujiiccfinds

-------------------------------------------------------

#the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 cc #portrait #s3cc #sims 3 #sims 3 download #sims 3 cc finds #palace of versailles #sims 3 decor #wall decor

41 notes · View notes

ohhey1293 · 1 year

Text

Like We Never Loved at All ⇢ (5) ▲ Jake Kiszka x OC - 1970s AU ▲ ・ Word Count: 2811・ ● Warning: cursing, physical abuse, smoking, drinking. ● ■ Taglist available ■ Author’s note: Hello again! It’s so good to finally be back and writing this fic again. I’ve been watching Daisy Jones and The Six and it gave me the motivation to get back on the Jake and Cate horse again. I hope those of you that read this story in the past will pick up where you left off and love it just as much as I am again. This chapter is a little slow - more Cate and Henry than Jake, but you never know when he’ll appear. I just want to thank those that have read this story! I really appreciate it :) ✕ Disclaimer: This is purely fiction. This is in no way associated with Jake or the band. ✕

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

“So, my mother was thinking of having the ladies at her church make the food for the reception. She also wants to come with you when you pick out the venue.”

I stared out the window as the scenery passed by. I had been back in Tennessee for almost a week, finally greeting a very pissed off Henry at the airport days later than I was supposed to. My trysts with Jake lasted two days – only leaving the room to get something to eat. We both knew it was a horrible idea but we couldn’t stop. I would lay next to him while he slept, my brain telling me to finally pull my clothes on and get the hell out of there. Even when he was deep inside of me, I knew it was a huge mistake but I never said no. My heart argued with my brain, winning the battle at the end.

“Sweetheart?”

I turned my head, looking over at my smiling fiancé. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Trying my best to sound somewhat chipper. His eyes glossed over with concern but his smile stayed firm.

“You okay?” He finally asked. “Haven’t been your usual self since you got back.” I nodded my head, assuring him that it was just jetlag and not getting enough sleep. “A nice, relaxing vacation is what you really need. You know my family’s got that hou-“

“I don’t need a vacation.” His expression changing drastically at my interruption. “Thank you though.” I patted his leg, my eyes still trained on the road in front of us. His whole demeanor changed at that moment – his body stiff and his face stoic. The meeting with the wedding planner was uncomfortable to say the least. He would only make sounds when asked of his opinion causing my blood to start boiling. He could be rude and hateful to me but she didn’t deserve his attitude. After the meeting, he had to run over to his parent’s house as usual – the annual Sunday meal with the in-laws was always a favorite of mine…(Hint the sarcasm).

He didn’t bother waiting as I exited the car, choosing to make his way into the large home without me. I stayed seated in the car for a moment, a sigh escaping past my painted lips as tears formed. “Just breath.” I spoke to myself. It was my fault that he was acting this way – I pissed him off – He had a right to be angry. I pulled my pocket mirror, checking my makeup before exiting the car. It was evident that it wouldn’t be just Henry and I at dinner tonight seeing as there were three extra cars crammed into the driveway. I pushed open the heavy doors, greeting one of the housekeepers with a smile as I slowly walked into the living room. I could hear the low tone of Henry’s father speaking the guest laughed at his words. Henry sat next to his mother, nursing a glass of bourbon as he paid attention to his look-alike father.

“Looks like Catherine decided to finally join us.” Richard, Henry’s father spoke with a snide look. The other’s, include Henry and his mother, turned in my direction. “Care to take a seat, darling.” It was more of a demand rather than a question. I nodded my head slightly, taking a seat on the edge next to Henry. He remained silent – placing his right hand on my thigh as he continued to listen to his father’s stories. I could feel the glances of those around, including his mother, Nancy. Richard and Nancy were always cordial but you could tell I was not the one they wanted their only son to settle down with. They knew I was a musician and I’m sure at this point they were aware of my past. They wanted Henry to settle with a girl that was – well- lets just say grounded if you will. I was a musician – I would go on tour or have to go to different places to appear on TV. They didn’t want that for Henry and as the years ticked on, I could tell Henry was starting to listen to them. I was supposed to stay home and care for the house and more importantly Henry. Nancy wanted me to be a doting wife – one that listened to Henry and would bow down to his every whim and need. She was the picture-perfect wife – a June Cleaver in a way. Her hair and clothing were always pressed and perfect. She never wore the same outfit twice. When Richard would return home from work or the country club, she was there to greet him with a glass of scotch and dinner being prepared in the kitchen. When going to outings at the church or the club, she was the woman that the other women surrounded – it was her approval they all wanted.

“Smells like dinner is about ready – shall we make our way to the dining room?” Richard smiled as they guest rose from their seats. I watched as he made small talk with them as they passed, his smile slightly dropping as Henry and I approached. “Nancy, why don’t you show Henry that gift you were talking about the other day.” Henry looked at his dad confused. “I need to have a little chat with Cate for a moment.” I was taken back as Henry walked away, not even daring to look back to make sure I was okay. Richard waited until Nancy and Henry were out of the room before slowly turning back, his face expressionless.

“Heard it was quiet the time while the two of you were away.” His voice neutral. “Henry said something about an ex-boyfriend being there?” I pulled at my dress. “Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing pretend and settle into the role of dedicating yourself to my son and his future.”

I stared into his light eyes, a scoff slipping past my lips. “Pretend?” I crossed my arms defiantly. “My career is not pretend and your son is well aware of that. He knew what he was getting into when we met – you and your wife seem to be the ones with the problem.” From his glowing eyes, I could tell that he wasn’t prepared for me to answer back in this manner. “I may be Henry’s fiancé but I wasn’t put on this earth to dedicate myself to him or his future. I bow down to no man – including you, Richard.”

I brushed past him as I followed where the others had walked before. He stayed missing for a moment before joining everyone, acting as if our conversation never happened. I took a seat next to Henry, his second glass of bourbon that I’ve seen sitting in front of him. He spoke with a young couple, smiling and laughing at their words. The awkward feeling enveloped me again as I sat there, ignored by those around.

“Hope everyone is hungry!” Nancy spoke as she walked into the room. The chef followed behind; a large portion of meat spread on a silver platter. She took a seat next to Richard, rubbing his hand as she looked around the table. Her eyes finally landing on me, quickly looking away once we our sites connected. The hired help started dishing out the plates, everyone getting a piece of meat and two vegetables. I quietly thanked the woman as she passed me the plate, the only one to do so in fact. Everyone made idle chit chat as they ate. Henry’s body turned slightly from mine as he spoke to those next to him, laughing in between chews. I was left on my own little island – stranded with my overcooked pork and tasteless sides.

“So, Cate-“ My head perked up at the sound of my name. A head of blonde hair and over-lined eyes stared back at me. “I understand that you are a musician? Top 40? Country?” She was the wife of Henry’s friend.

I wiped my mouth with the silk napkin, “Well, I started off as a top 40 act but I’m looking to go in a different direction now. Get with the sound of the times kind of stuff.”

Richard and Nancy slowly ate their meals, their attention focused on my new conversation. “Well, I was only asking because I never heard of your songs. Not to be rude or anything, but I never heard of you at all.” The girl continued. “I guess your music isn’t really what I gravitate towards.”

Her remark was meant to be rude – meant to make a mockery of me in front of everyone. If she was trying to hurt me it wasn’t working. I’ve heard it all and after a while it just goes right through you. “Sorry to hear that.” I smiled. “I don’t really cater towards the spoiled population.” Her face, along with everyone else’s, fell at my words. “Maybe when I first started you would have liked the music – pink, soft, clean. You can’t remain the same girl after the things I’ve done – my music is evident of that and your kind would never understand.”

“And what is it that you have done, Catherine?” Richard inquired.

I locked eyes with him, “Well, that’s not important is it, Richard?”

The table turned silent as the master of the house and I glared at one another. I wasn’t backing down this time. I was done backing down to these people – I was tired of being someone that I wasn’t. I downed what was left of my wine, quickly pouring myself another glass.

“What about children? Wouldn’t you like to settle down and have children?” An older woman asked. “Surely when you and Henry are married, you’ll step away from that lifestyle and settle down and become a wife and mother.”

Henry and I hardly spoke about having children. It had come up in passing a handful of times but the subject was changed before we could go further. Of course, I wanted children – only when the time was right. It wasn’t right when I was a teenager and I don’t believe the time was right at this moment. Henry didn’t strike me as the loving father type. He was very similar to his own father. He cared about his business and that was his pride and joy.

“My music and career are my children.” I spoke truthfully. “They’ve been my babies since I was 16 years old. You write the songs and send them out to the world – hoping millions of strangers enjoy and love them just as much as you do. Frankly, I don’t believe that Henry and I are at the point to have a real child. Even if we were to get married tomorrow, bringing a baby into this relationship would only bring trouble.” Henry’s head whipped to the side; his eyes boring into my skin. “Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I need to quiet my job and stay home. I’m not cut out for the whole housewife routine. Frankly, the thought of cleaning and cooking all day for my husband is a bit repulsive. Henry’s a grown man – if he’s hungry, he knows how to work the oven – it wouldn’t be the first time…”

The ride back to the house was silent.

I would glance over during the drive, watching as Henry’s face fought with the anger that was coursing through his body, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. I decided to just stay quiet, not wanting to poke the bear and risk us being involved in an accident. As he parked the car in the driveway, he quickly removed himself from the vehicle, stomping up the stairs to our condo. I sat in the dark car, the only sound coming from the crickets in the dewy grass. I understood that my boost of confidence at the dinner was the reason for his sour attitude. I finally found the courage to standup to those people – telling them how I really feel instead of being the phony person I had been.

I slowly walked up the same steps, taking a breath before entering the home. Henry was nowhere to be found; his jacket thrown on the back of the couch. I removed my heels before walking up the steps to our shared bedroom, stopping once I saw Henry sitting on the bed, head in hands. I leaned against the doorframe, biting my lip nervously.

“I’m really not in the mood to even hear your voice right now, Catherine.” He spoke. His voice tired.

“Well-“ I paused. “I didn’t hear you coming to my defense when they were playing 20 fucking questions. I was just being honest.”

His head shot up, “Honest-“He rose from the bed. “Your fucking honestly was the joke of the evening!” I flinched at his raised voice. “You made me look like a fucking fool in front of everyone. Oh, Henry can just cook for himself- He’s done it many times. Henry can fend for himself – he’s a grown man.” He mimicked.

“You want me to fucking lie?” I pressed back. “I told them the fucking truth! I don’t want to be some little housewife who jumps as soon as you come home. I am my own person! Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean you own me, Henry Samuels. I’m not gonna be like your mother and her group of hens that sits at the country club and secretly daydreams about what their lives could have been. Fuck that shit!”

The searing pain of his hand meeting my cheek whipped my head to the side. My hand instantly touched the spot, tears welling up in my eyes as the pain intensified. I could hear as Henry stomped past me, the door to the guest room slamming behind him. This wasn’t the first time I had been hit by a man but it was the first time Henry had ever laid hands on me.

I stood in the same spot for a number of minutes before my anger kicked in. His hit left a large red mark on my cheek – I winced as I did my best to try to cover it. I quickly changed out of my stuffy attire, slipping on a strappy, long dress with see-through material. I clipped back my hair, letting my bangs frame my puffy face. I didn’t even bother telling him where I was going – simply slamming the front door as I left. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew that I didn’t want to be anywhere near him at this point…

“Can I have another whiskey sour, please?”

I watched as the bartender began working on the drink – my fifth one of the night at this point. I drove around for an hour or two before walking into the rowdy establishment. It was right off the highway, mostly occupied by bikers and ruffians. It was definitely not the type of place where you would find Henry

“Thanks.” I muttered as he placed the glass in front of me. I had it finished within seconds, the warmth of the alcohol flooding my senses. I wasn’t drunk though. My tolerance for alcohol growing since my younger years – years of slamming back drink after drink – getting trashed and not even remembering what had happened the next day.

“Can I just have the bottle?”

I looked up from my drink, the voice sitting directly next to me causing my heart to speed up. His hair was pulled back, the same glasses as always perched over his eyes. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked.

He kept his head trained ahead, “Saw you split from your place in a hurry – figured you wanted to get drunk.” A small smirk formed on his face. “Trouble in paradise between you and the prince?”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname he had given Henry. “Just a disagreement is all.” I lied. I could see his eyes roll behind the glasses. “Why are you in Tennessee?”

He took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey, the liquid dripping from his chin down to his exposed chest. “There’s a beautiful girl – woman I know here.” His body turning towards mine. “From the looks of it-“His hand moving my hair away from my face, his fingers dancing on my exposed shoulder. “She’s secretly happy to see me.”

My breath hitched in my throat as my heart drummed against my chest. “We can’t do this, Jake.” My words barely audible. At this point our faces were inches apart – the intoxicating smell of alcohol, smoke, and that damn cologne flooding my senses.

“I know.” He pushed his sunglasses into his locks. Our eyes finally connecting – both sober and our senses intact. “But I can’t help myself.”

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet x reader #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

29 notes · View notes

winterhalters · 3 months

Text

K I N G S I D E, a tale of seven kings

first season 1514-1520. Claude and François finally get married, a vacant seat for Mary Tudor, Louise of Savoy's stubborness to keep her son in check. A new King arises, the New Order, François' quest for glory in Italy. Another crown, another campaign.

second season 1522-1530. The inheritance dispute that leads Bourbon to treason. The pursuit of the italian dream, Claude dies, all is lost in Pavia. Süleyman and the unthinkable alliance, captivity in Spain. The Ottoman fleet. Royal depression. The inheritance dispute that led Bourbon to treason. The ladies' peace, Henry VIII flinching, a price for two princes, a New wife for the King.

third season 1531-1537. Louise dies, tensions between François and Marguerite. The wedding of Catherine and Henri. The rise of Pisseleu, the battle at Court between Charles and Henri and their people. War between Diane and Montmorency. Placards and the anti-heterics frenzy, another war in Italy. Wedding and death of Madeleine.

fourth season 1539-1547. Mending tensions between France and Spain. A very stubborn niece. All eyes on Henri and Catherine's sterile womb. Death of Charles. The duel in Jarnac. The King is dead, long live. Diane de Poitier's absolute triumph over Anne de Pisseleu. The Guises make their move.

fifth season 1553-1559. Diane of France's not so typical royal wedding. Catherine giving birth to the twins, Chenonceau goes to Diane, the cordial hate between the two. Rohan VS Nemours. Montmorency mess and a remarriage for Diane of France. The death of Henri, everything falls down.

sixth season 1560-1564. François II barely hanging on, Catherine's almost giving up, Elisabeth married off, the Guise family's counterpower, Montemorency's political exile, the Amboise conspiracy, preparations for the grand tour.

seventh season 1565-1572. The end of the grand tour, encounter between the royal family and Elisabeth, queen of Spain. The rise of Charles IX, a new queen, Marie Touchet and her bastard boys. Catherine's plans to get a match for Marguerite. Rising tensions between Charles and Henri after Jarnac and Montcontour. Marguerite's nuptials amidst tensions and Coligny's attempted murder.

eighth season 1572-1575. Coligny and the Protestant leaders rallying the troops. The Saint Barthelemew Massacre and the promise of Marguerite to never forgive her family. Catherine finds out Anjou's possible involvement. A new king for Poland. Marguerite's toubled married life. Death of Charles IX. Henri's escape from Poland and slow return to France.

nineth season 1581-1584. Catherine's illusions shatter. New King, no heir. Marguerite returns to Paris. Louise shows some spine against the King's favorites. Quarelling with Anjou, tensions with Elizabethan England, Anjou's election and subsequent death and Catherine's anger. The Guise family veering off the road.

tenth season 1585-1589. The mounting war of the three Henris. All eyes on King Henri who has no sons, Catherine's political exile, the slow burning of the last Valois children. Hunting down Marguerite from stronghold to stronghold, ending with her house arrest in Usson. Assassination of the Guise brothers, the death of Catherine, Henri III breaks down in Diane's arms. Marguerite in exile, Diane the only "true" daughter of Catherine's, as she sets out to (successfully) pacify the kingdom on her own.

#historyedit #perioddramaedit #mine #*#*kingside #16th century #so yeah this took me a whole month instead of a good week #we love crappy laptops

156 notes · View notes

roehenstart · 2 years

Text

Catherine of Bourbon, Duchess of Bar.

#royaume de france #catherine de bourbon #duchesse de bar #maison de bourbon #full length portrait #full-length portrait

4 notes · View notes

palecleverdoll · 8 months

Text

Ages of French Princesses at First Marriage

I have only included women whose birth dates and dates of marriage are known within at least 1-2 years, therefore, this is not a comprehensive list.

This list is composed of princesses of France until the end of the House of Bourbon; it does not include Bourbon claimants or descendants after 1792.

The average age at first marriage among these women was 15.

Judith of Flanders, daughter of Charles the Bald: age 12 when she married Æthelwulf, King of Wessex in 856 CE

Rothilde, daughter of Charles the Bald: age 19 when she married Roger, Count of Maine in 890 CE

Emma of France, daughter of Robert I: age 27 when she married Rudolph of France in 921 CE

Matilda of France, daughter of Louis IV: age 21 when she married Conrad I of Burgundy in 964 CE

Hedwig of France, daughter of Hugh Capet: age 26 when she married Reginar IV of Hainault in 996 CE

Gisela of France, daughter of Hugh Capet: age 26 when she married Hugh of Ponthieu in 994 CE

Hedwig of France, daughter of Robert II: age 13 when she married Renauld I, Count of Nevers in 1016 CE

Adela of France, daughter of Robert II: age 18 when she married Richard III of Normandy in 1027 CE

Constance of France, daughter of Philip I: age 16 when she married Hugh I, Count of Troyes in 1094 CE

Cecile of France, daughter of Philip I: age 9 when she married Tancred, Prince of Galilee in 1106 CE

Constance of France, daughter of Louis VI: age 14 when she married Eustace IV, Count of Boulogne in 1140 CE

Marie of France, daughter of Louis VII: age 14 when she married Henry I, Count of Champagne, in 1159 CE

Alice of France, daughter of Louis VII: age 14 when she married Theobald V, Count of Blois in 1164 CE

Margaret of France, daughter of Louis VII: age 14 when she married Henry the Young King in 1172 CE

Alys of France, daughter of Louis VII: age 35 when she married William IV of Ponthieu in 1195 CE

Agnes of France, daughter of Louis VII: age 8 when she married Alexios II Komnenos in 1180 CE

Marie of France, daughter of Philip II: age 13 when she married Philip I of Namur in 1211 CE

Isabella of France, daughter of Louis IX: age 14 when she married Theobald II of Navarre in 1255 CE

Blanche of France. daughter of Louis IX: age 16 when she married Ferdinand de la Cerda in 1269 CE

Margaret of France, daughter of Louis IX: age 16 when she married John I, Duke of Brabant in 1270 CE

Agnes of France, daughter of Louis IX: age 19 when she married Robert II, Duke of Burgundy in 1279 CE

Blanche of France, daughter of Philip III: age 22 when she married Rudolf III of Austria in 1300 CE

Margaret of France, daughter of Philip III: age 20 when she married Edward I of England in 1299 CE

Isabella of France, daughter of Philip IV: age 13 when she married Edward II of England in 1308 CE

Joan II of Navarre, daughter of Louis X: age 6 when she married Philip III of Navarre in 1318 CE

Joan III, daughter of Philip V: age 10 when she married Odo IV, Duke of Burgundy in 1318 CE

Margaret I, daughter of Philip V: age 10 when she married Louis I of Flanders in 1320 CE

Isabella of France, daughter of Philip V: age 11 when she married Guigues VIII of Viennois in 1323 CE

Blanche of France, daughter of Charles IV: age 17 when she married Philip, Duke of Orleans in 1345 CE

Joan of Valois, daughter of John II: age 9 when she married Charles II of Navarre in 1352 CE

Marie of France, daughter of John II: age 20 when she married Robert I, Duke of Bar in 1364 CE

Isabella, daughter of John II: age 12 when she married Gian Geleazzo Visconti in 1360 CE

Catherine of France, daughter of Charles V: age 8 when she married John of Berry, Count of Montpensier in 1386 CE

Isabella of Valois, daughter of Charles VI: age 6 when she married Richard II of England in 1396 CE

Joan of France, daughter of Charles VI: age 5 when she married John V, Duke of Brittany in 1396 CE

Michelle of Valois, daughter of Charles VI: age 14 when she married Philip III, Duke of Burgundy in 1409 CE

Catherine of Valois, daughter of Charles VI: age 19 when she married Henry V of England in 1420 CE

Catherine of France, daughter of Charles VII: age 12 when she married Charles I, Duke of Burgundy in 1440 CE

Joan of France, daughter of Charles VII: age 12 when she married John II , Duke of Bourbon in 1447 CE

Yolande of Valois, daughter of Charles VII: age 18 when she married Amadeus IX, Duke of Savoy in 1452 CE

Magdalena of Valois, daughter of Charles VII: age 18 when she married Gaston, Prince of Viana in 1461 CE

Anne of France, daughter of Louis XI: age 12 when she married Peter of Bourbon in 1473 CE

Joan of France, daughter of Louis XI: age 12 when she married Louis XII in 1476 CE

Claude of France, daughter of Louis XII: age 15 when she married Francis I in 1514 CE

Renée of France, daughter of Louis XII: age 18 when she married Ercole II d'Este in 1528 CE

Madeleine of Valois, daughter of Francis I: age 17 when she married James V of Scotland in 1537 CE

Margaret of Valois, daughter of Francis I: age 36 when she married Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy in 1559 CE

Elisabeth of Valois, daughter of Henry II: age 13 when she married Philip II of Spain in 1559 CE

Claude of Valois, daughter of Henry II: age 12 when she married Charles III, Duke of Lorraine in 1559 CE

Margaret of Valois, daughter of Henry II: age 19 when she married Henry IV in 1572 CE

Elisabeth of France, daughter of Henry IV: age 13 when she married Philip IV of Spain in 1615 CE

Christine of France, daughter of Henry IV: age 13 when she married Victor Amadeus I, Duke of Savoy in 1619 CE

Henrietta Maria of France, daughter of Henry IV: age 16 when she married Charles I of England in 1625 CE

Louise Élisabeth of France, daughter of Louis XV: age 12 when she married Philip, Duke of Parma in 1739 CE

Marie-Thérèse, daughter of Louis XVI: age 21 when she married Louis Antoine, Duke of Angoulême in 1799 CE

#french #history #medieval

19 notes · View notes

histoireettralala · 2 years

Text

Eléonore de Roye

Eléonore de Roye, (Princesse de Condé, 1535-1564)

Huguenot activist, skilled political negotiator, nursed the sick and wounded during the siege of Orleans

Eléonore de Roye was one of the Huguenot noblewomen who contributed to the establishment of Calvinism in France. Daughter of Charles, count de Roye, and Madeleine de Mailly, and wife of Louis de Bourbon, prince de Condé, she was related to prominent Catholics (Anne de Montmorency) and Huguenots (Antoine de Bourbon, Jeanne d'Albret, the Colignys) and used her network well. Eléonore's influence was particularly important when Condé was imprisoned, first as a suspect in the Conspiracy of Amboise in 1560 (Condé was accused, with other Protestant sympathizers, of plotting to kill Francis II) and subsequently in 1562-1563 after the Battle of Dreux during the first Religious War. In each case, Eléonore corresponded at length with Catherine de Médicis and rallied Condé's supporters, including Elizabeth I. In each case, Condé was freed. Catherine's and Eléonore's negotiations after the Battle of Dreux, through letters and when they met within earshot of the hostilities, led to an exchang eof prisoners (Condé for Anne de Montmorency) and the Peace of Amboise.

Considered a model wife and mother, Eléonore bore eight children, nursed the sick and wounded during the siege of Orléans, travelled frequently to be with her husband, and remained faithful even when Condé's extramarital indiscretions inspired a stern letter from Calvin and Bèze (September 1563). Eléonore's death on 23 July 1564, surrounded by her children, was recorded by a woman companion for an English friend as an example for young women in both countries.

Jane Couchman, in Encyclopedia of Women in the Renaissance

#xvi #encyclopedia of women in the renaissance #éléonore de roye #house of roye #house of bourbon condé #wars of religion #louis i de bourbon condé #françois ii #catherine de medicis #anne de montmorency

6 notes · View notes

womenwhochangedhistory · 1 year

Photo

MARY OF BURGUNDY, THE RICH

Duchess of Burgundy, countess of Flanders, and archduchess of Austria, who fought to save her land from France and preserved what was to become the modern country of Belgium.

In Mary of Burgundy's days, Burgundy encompassed the area surrounding Dijon, Flanders, Picardy, and Brabant. It bordered France, Austria, and the English territories in the northeast part of continental Europe. The future of Burgundy was of utmost importance in the ongoing struggle for power between England and France, as well as in the many smaller conflicts throughout central and northern Europe. Mary's father, who was to be remembered as Charles the Bold, was the count of Charolois. Her grandfather, known as Philip the Good, reigned as the duke of Burgundy. Mary's mother was Isabelle of Bourbon , the second wife of Charles. His first wife Catherine de France had died young, with no children; Mary of Burgundy was therefore the sole heir to a large and rich territory.

Since Charles had no male heirs, potential marriages with Mary of Burgundy were plotted almost from the day of her birth on February 13,1457. Her entrance into the world was celebrated in a grand style, and her baptism at the cathedral of Coudenberg was considered "the greatest magnificence ever seen for a girl." This elegance may have been due to the political position of the child, or it simply may have been expected of the stylish House of Burgundy. Whatever the reason, the festivities lasted an entire day, and Louis of France, later to rule as King Louis XI, was appointed as Mary's godfather. Mary's grandmother, Isabella of Portugal (1397–1471), filled the role of godmother. Gifts were brought by representatives from across Europe, including some from a number of cities which were in rebellion against Duke Philip the Good at the time. Mary of Burgundy spent most of her childhood at the ducal castle of Ten Waele at Ghent. She enjoyed an affectionate relationship with her father, even though he was almost constantly away from her. Especially after 1465, when Charles became the duke of Burgundy, he was personally involved in controlling and governing the cities of his territory. He also developed a flair for conquering new cities, and military operations kept him occupied for months at a time. Isabelle of Bourbon died when Mary was eight years old, and the girl was raised primarily by Lady Hallewijn, the wife of the duke's chief steward. Lady Hallewijn was a constant companion and loyal attendant to Mary throughout her life. Several cousins and other children from noble families lived with the heiress as playmates during her childhood. Mary's great-aunt (possibly Agnes of Burgundy) was responsible for arranging the series of governesses that educated the young lady. Not much is known about Mary's education, but it is clear that she could speak French, Flemish, and English. She enjoyed reading fables and Roman histories, and may have had some training in political philosophy. Her later actions as reigning duchess suggest that she was prepared early in life to govern. Mary developed a keen interest in hunting, riding, and other outdoor sports, as well as in gardening. She cared for her falcons as if they were children; later in life, her husband would express surprise at Mary's insistence on keeping the birds in the bedroom, even within a few days of their wedding. Mary's personal seal was a picture of herself on horseback with a falcon on her wrist. She had a complete court of attendants from her infancy, including a dwarf named Madame de Beauregard. Mary soon made her choice among the many suitors for her hand by selecting Archduke Maximilian of Austria, the future Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I, who became her co-ruler. The marriage took place at Ghent on 19 August 1477, when she was 20 years old, while he was two years younger. Mary's marriage into the House of Habsburg initiated two centuries of contention between France and the Habsburgs, a struggle that climaxed with the War of the Spanish Succession bethween 1701 and 1714. When they had time, the couple indulged themselves with dancing, hunting, music and the love for animals. Mary tried to teach him iceskating, which he struggled to master. They read romances together. Contrary to the custom of the time, Mary and Maximilian shared the same private quarters and bedroom. Mary nursed their children herself and used to dine with merchants from Dijon. She entusiastically cheered for her husband during tournaments, in which he exceled in jousting, not just in feats of strength but also in the luxury he lavished on the equipments, horses, accessories and ornaments. At first, they talked to each other in Latin. With Maximilian by her side, Mary's position became stronger, politically and militarily. Although he came with no money nor army, nor support from the Empire, and no prior experience in governance, his competence in military matters and his prestige as the son of an emperor boosted the stability of her territories. He took over the war effort, concerning both military and financial details. In 1482, a falcon hunt in the woods near Wijnendale Castle was organised by Adolph of Cleves, Lord of Ravenstein, who lived in the castle. Mary loved riding and was hunting with Maximilian and knights of the court when her horse tripped, threw her in a ditch, and then landed on top of her, breaking her back. She died several weeks later on 27 March from internal injuries, having made a detailed will. She was buried in the Church of Our Lady in Bruges on 3 April 1482. She was pregnant at the time. Maximilian was devastated. She had initially hidden the extent of her injury to calm him down. When he continued to display uncontrollable grief, she had to force him out of her chamber so that she could discuss matters of the state with her vassals, concerning which she asked them to keep their loyalty oath to him and their children. Maximilian was not present when she said her last words.

#mary of burgundy #house of habsburg #habsburg #maryandmaximilliam #duchyofburgundy #historicalwomen #history #european history #royal women

28 notes · View notes