ROXY MORTON. Lancelot of Kingsman. Fashionable. Daughter of James & Perci. Badass   Extraordinaire. Oxford University graduate. Lover of literature, history, art and tea

                 {CODE} {ROXY’S FILE} {ASK} {DIRECTORY}

                          𝓲𝓷𝓭𝒆𝓹𝒆𝓷𝓭𝒆𝓷𝓽 & 𝓼𝒆𝓵𝒆𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓿𝒆

{ @madamreine }

“Master Comwell has informed me that the King has given you wardship of my Henry as a gift.” Mary’s eyes remained lidded during her discourse with her sister, all but Queen of England now. “And he is to be sent to a monastery for his education. I hope that this is to relieve my debts, and not because his wardship would bring you and the King money.” The elder sister bit her lip. “Will I ever see him again? And how else am I to survive, a widow in debt, with a mouth to feed? Sweet Katherine...”

{ @ofrxyal }

“I wonder how King Francis fairs in comparison to our King,” Mary mused, “we never really knew His Majesty.”

{ @threecardtrick }

“I understand that I have been replaced in the King’s heart. But what of my children? My husband is dead, my Lord. I have nothing left. You must help me.”

{ @witfullyhappy }

“Then not out of my grasp at all.”

Mary’s lips parted. “Anne...” she began gravely, “have sense. You must be jesting.” She lowered her voice. “You deserve better than being a mistress.”

{ @bloodstainedlecher }

It was perhaps immensely fitting that Mary was chose as Kindness in the masque at Cardinal Wolsey’s York Palace, in one of his many events in homage to the king he so loyally served. For Mary was kind, as well as graceful, glowing, and excessively beautiful.

Despite the rumours of her affair with King Francis, she was chosen by Queen Katherine herself to have the honour of playing in the masque alongside the King’s sister, Mary, the dowager Queen of France, who played Beauty. Mary’s sister Anne (very befittingly, as Perseverance) and her brother George’s betrothed, Jane Parker (as Constancy) rounded out the performers for the night.

The evening ended, as usual, with the most gaily, extravagant feast, and all eyes were on Mary as she danced elegantly in the presence of the King. She twirled and laughed every second, making each of her partner’s feel special -- as if they were the only one in the world to her. A change of the tune, and the partners switched again - Mary finding herself in the arms of the King. 

She stumbled a little, her cheeks flushing crimson. “Your Majesty,” she breathed, shrinking back with shyness, “what have I done to procure such an honour?”

{ @witfullyhappy }

“He is quite a handsome king.” Anne says, her smile a mixture of warmth and sly.

“Firmly outside our grasp.” Mary smiled. “Almost as much as Henry Percy.”

      He is my brother. She is my sister.                            Come what will, they are my kin.