mariusdanjou:
He knew too much of a man turned away from his beloved country, and so forth he offered the Austrian his benefit of doubt. Offering him, in place, a lifeline that was only ever offered once in a blue moon. He knew of his daughter, one made of affection rather than duty. And knew about the mother who had died to unforeseen circumstances related to childbirth, a fate many a young woman was destined for (Marius had been lucky to see Henrietta survive two labours, he knew that, and he prayed for her health more so than he had prayed for something ever before). With a slight respect and understanding, he looked to the Archduke and presented a bow of his head. “I will talk to her about it, your place is rightfully reserved of course, as a Babenberg and a true Austrian. It does not go over my head that I am simply French and not naturally stuck to the Empire’s roots…” Hoping he understood, Marius returned to his bread.
The only thing he did not seem to know nor comprehend was Albert’s resentment to the idea of an heir — every other man jumped at the chance of having a son of his own, to pass down legend and stories befitting a joyous boy. Marius, too, took pride in Maxim — even if he did not hope for him to be as ambitious(or even as loyal) as his father. “What troubles you about such a marriage? Why does it pain you so? Any other man would wish to be married to the jewels of Portugal - what do you know that I do not?” He went to question, pausing in curiosity as he leaned in for some sort of secret.
“Indeed, you may be French, but an ally is an ally,” Albert scoffed good-naturedly, not truly holding ill will towards those of other realms, merely concerned with the fate of his own. They’d started off in similar positions, princes of great families with the potential to rise higher but where Marius had clawed his way up until France was in his power, Albert had all but folded before age ten. “It is not the princess or the Kingdom of Portugal that dissuades me,” He admitted, pausing to polish off his drink, knuckles going white as he gripped the empty cup, “I am a coward. I fear sentencing another woman to death merely so she may deliver unto me a child. I hardly know her and yet her fate may already be sealed. Do you mean to tell me such thoughts have never crossed your own mind?” Perhaps, he could not understand as he had not lived it, had not seen the life drain from a lover’s eyes, had not lowered her to the Earth alongside her stillborn son. Most men of their rank were expected to prioritize duty above all else but the prince had left his wife for the Lady Henrietta, there had to be some part of him that differed from their peers, as well. “I had a son of my own, already, and he was born asleep. No, it’s not the marriage that troubles me, it is what comes after.” His voice was quiet, half drowned by the din of the room but this was the only secret the archduke possessed, all that he kept close to the vest.












