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THE DEATH OF HENRIETTA VON EGGENBERG.

When Henrietta von Eggenberg caught the fever after the voyage from Lisbon to Austria. It was like any other, and so Marius barely raised a brow as he prepared for the official petition to pass on the von Eggenberg inheritance to his long-time partner. With a child on his knee at any given time, he had found it hard pressed to find a moment alone with Henrietta during the voyage - leaving him to mistake the illness as only a moment of slight distress.

It wasn’t till the moment of crossing the boundary between France and the Holy Roman Empire was her illness elevated to a dangerous status. Marius, whom had always found pleasure in work and steady routine, turned every affection and moment to being sat by Henrietta’s bedside. Hand in hand, he listened to her every moan, comment and whispers. For steadily, she fell to the embrace of death - but this wasn’t before she commanded her last wishes.

Do not fight Philip or France anymore. Look to our children and secure their futures. Go to France, and make amends. For France runs through your blood, the Holy Roman Empire is but a surrogate for where to place your loyalty.

For so long, Marius had fought for France. For so long, he had made himself an enemy to a Kingdom he had loved so fearlessly. Then suddenly, with her one remark, he promised to make amends and to embrace his nephew, the King, once more.

With her passing, Marius went with her body to bury her in the von Eggenberg estate where her family had placed - within the heart of Carinthia he watched with his children and various onlookers; and though no tears fell beneath the grey clouds that day, Marius wept openly within enclosed walls, and held his children with a fierce grip. Before her burial, he reserved the land by her side for himself - the money bought with what was leftover from his time as prince regent; his resting place was by her side, it was no longer France.

Maxim & Marie-Therese von Eggenberg had always kept their mother’s name, and so Marius thought it only right not to change them or to even legitimise them. He had nothing to give, nothing to promise. And though they both recognised the other as their marital spouse in all manners than in formal declaration, Marius was happy to leave their offspring as her children entirely.

She died in November, 1458.

mariusdanjou

MARIUS D’ANJOU & HENRIETTA VON EGGENBERG.

@austrianblood

#{ holy is the moon }#mom and dad :)

mihrimahsultan:

location : palacio da correio-mor status : closed to @austrianblood / @albertofaustria

Being followed every second of the day had started to wear on the Sultana who had approached Lisbon with the hope that the utmost freedom would be expected in this new exciting chapter of her life. Alas, it seemed her ladies would follow the strict rules enforced by the Sultan who hoped that his dear Mihrimah would neither get into trouble or start her own.

In a slight hope to escape their watchful eyes that were eager to catch their lady in a tryst of trouble (to report such an action back to the Sultan would surely result in favours and presents), Mihrimah picked up her skirts and escaped the palace door when a crowd of courtiers ventured inside. With her veil yet cascading down her face, the Sultana turned a few corners to meet the walls that belonged to the court of Apollonia, the Empress of the Holy Roman Empire.

Alone for a moment, Mihrimah soaked in it — roaming the halls for art, culture or the sounds of anyone who was not paid to keep her, she sidestepped and came face to face with a grand portrait of some Western man who had probably done little other than being born at the right time, in the right body. Staring upward, with her translator trying to find her, the Sultana barely noticed another join her; her tongue moving in Ottoman-Turkish, as she knew little else. “I would quite like to have my portrait taken… Do you think they’d capture a good likeness?”

The Ottomans were an enigma to Henrietta more than anything, barriers of culture, religion, and language often separating the East and the West like an iron curtain, the leaders of her beloved homeland operating under the assumption that the empire was somehow the holiest of all territories. But all worship came with similar intent, she thought, and the concept of the true faith had always been a piece of the puzzle that never fit quite right. All beings had their own truth, did they not?

Nonetheless, she was surprised to turn a corner and find the Ottoman princess wandering the palace, an impossibly tall woman with striking features, the kind of face not easily forgotten. Her language, which Henrietta had attempted to study briefly during the journey to Portugal, was wholly unfamiliar in practice leaving a translator to be their conduit. “Have you never had a portrait?” She asked softly, turning her gaze to the piece in question, a dull depiction of some long-dead duke. “The artists are so often men and they only see what they wish to see. A proper likeness may be a rarity, no? I did sit for a portrait in France but when the piece was revealed the subject had auburn hair and a prominent bust. Rather odd.”

#mihrimahsultan #have henrietta bc albert is actually...no more :(

santianscrids:

“we did not mean to frighten you, my lady.” santiago smiled apologetically and adjusted the straps on the reins. monte grunted and stomping his hooves at the sight of another person, especially one he did not know. he tended to be a hostile creature, a little much like his owner maybe. “it seems that i am not the only one having trouble with sleep,” the young prince smiled. “it’s rather difficult to catch some in somewhere so foreign so i thought it would be best to ride out—and that, i will have to agree with you, my lady. the cool dawn breeze is quite the contrast to the heat and is the best time to go riding, in my opinion. the iberian sun is rather unforgiving. having grown up around these parts myself, it took some time to get used to.” the castilian had spent most of his time basked under the sun whether he be travelling or fighting. he didn’t have much of a choice really. despite him being accustomed to it, he cant say he liked it very much hence his choice of riding out before the sun peaked through the horizon. “i will be sure to remember that, my lady. you are very kind,” santiago remarked. “perhaps you would like to join me? i am certain a lady such as yourself is capable of riding on your own however it would bring me much comfort to escort you. as a gentleman, i feel it is my duty to so. that is if you would allow me to.”

“well, luckily lisbon is a beautiful city and provides adequate scenery on sleepless nights. i confess, i’ve fallen in love with the tagus river,” henrietta laughed, thinking upon all the secret spots she had found during her time abroad. others had more diplomatic responsibilities than she and while it’d be simple to pout about it, there was no reason to deprive herself of the wonders portugal had to offer. “i’d be glad to join you, sir, but for the safety of the both of us introductions may be in order, yes? lady henrietta of carinthia, i serve her imperial highness, empress apollonia.” tacking on her position in apollonia’s court had become a habit, a shield by which she sought protection that her own name could not provide. the events in florence had ground her confidence down, only a little, but the experience changed her nonetheless. unmarried and with no wealth of her own to speak of, her pride had to be set aside in favor of resilience.

#santianscrids

POINT DIVIDER // JULY 28 - AUGUST 3

+40 points

total: 315 points

allfcnso:

the king of castile’s nod was timed in sync with her words, an arm offered to the austrian-born woman as they embarked on a leisurely stroll throughout the castle. he casted a serene gaze down at henrietta, glancing at her through a thicket of ashen lashes as she narrated her family’s history of service. it was a narrative he was, at least, partially aware of; albeit her words had the effect of enriching the portrait he conjured of her in his mind, adding detail to the rather homely image of a mistress following her lover on an odyssey of both rebellion and a complete reconfiguration of loyalty. it was a brave task –– but most bravery, in the king’s estimation, could be chalked up to indiscretion. and indiscretion, in any age, but in particular this one –– was dangerous.

“it is an honourable ––” and tactful, “–– decision to do so, my lady. i can think of no earthly ruler more deserving of your family’s fealty.” her words, no doubt purposefully, left room for alfonso to leap to and form his own conclusions. if she was intent on serving the empire, and whoever may lead it, until her death, then she may one day serve him. he could not be certain if apollonia would entrust henrietta with the first-hand knowledge of succession, though it was highly probable that marius would be privy and by extent, alfonso knew secrets to slip easily between lovers. “i do appreciate the sentiment, lady henrietta. though i am without clear need at this moment, i will keep your offering close to my chest, and call on you should the need arise. in perhaps the near future, i desire to repay your kindness –– tell me, when was the last time you set foot upon your family’s estates? it is my understanding they have fallen from your family’s grasp.”

“i thank your grace for considering my offer,” there was no tremor in her hand as she took his proffered arm, something that had periodically plagued her since the unfortunate events at florence, almost as if she was still struggling to keep warm. it was easy to pretend one was at peace when surrounded by comforts and luxuries once only dreamed of but history could never be erased. “since my return from france my duties to her imperial highness have prevented a visit to my ancestral home and i estimate it was five and twenty years ago that i was taken from my household.” for something deeply personal, henrietta spoke with clear detachment, a particular characteristic that had earned the ire of many back in france but that monarchs often seemed to appreciate. henrietta was no one’s daughter, sister, or wife and thus she owed no one the niceties that came with such relationships, the little expressions of feminine desperation and perceived hysteria that allowed men to feel powerful. “in my absence our lands have been debased and unlawfully auctioned off piece by piece. i will return one day, of course, once their ownership has been returned to the rightful duchess of the territory.”

when she slept at night, images of the maps she’d studied burned brightly behind her eyes and she dreamed of a prosperous land, a flourishing textile industry and trade with the wealthy italians to bring great importance to the place where she was born and intended to die. all would come to regret depriving her once her plans were fully realized. she couldn’t force the players of the world to respect her but she could do her best to continue to rise in her own right.

“i must ask of your wife, is she well? excuse my curiosity, but talk of our shared motherland brought her grace to mind.”

#allfcnso

santianscrids:

status: open ! location: lisbon stables, dawn

the four walls of the jeronimós monastery was beginning to get a little bit suffocating for the youngest castilian prince. he wasn’t all used to being in such a confined space for this long most especially with this many people. he was a man who loved his open fields as far as the eye can see having been on the road for more than half of his life, hopping from one nation to another may it be for military campaigns or ambassadorial duties. he will admit, the monastery was nothing short of beautiful with one of the most beautiful gardens he has laid his eyes on, however this did not suffice his grace. he needed to be away momentarily, far from the pressures placed on his shoulders and fake pleasantries.

waking up way too early than majority of the castilian court, he decided to sneak away to the stables, hoping to go on a ride before anyone would even notice that he was gone. he had no problems saddling his own horse— these were such trivial things to him and needed no assistance. he also did not want to disturb whoever was watching over the stable’s slumber considering how early he arrived. as quiet he could be, santiago began preparing his stallion, Monte, for his early morning ride.

despite the sleep deprivation, his senses were alert as always; an innate instinct especially in a place that was foreign. he kept cautious of his surroundings while finishing the task at hand. santiago found his hypersensitivity a gift; it was what kept him alive in battle. however he had to remind himself he wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. in fact, he was far from it. it wasn’t like someone would attack him anyway. it wouldn’t be wise to carry out such deed when everyone was in lisbon for peace. “woah there Monte. it’s alright—” santiago calmed his stallion, a hand on his body, a gesture of assurance. “he doesn’t like very many people and we weren’t expecting anyone here this early. my apologies.”

lisbon had proved rather dull thus far and henrietta was in desperate need of a distraction from the perceived target on her back. memories of the unrest in florence had become intrusive and each day she wondered if there would be a repeat at the portuguese summit. she’d gone to the nursery before the sun had risen to hover over her daughter’s cradle, knowing the babe had been struggling with colic since their arrival and once her worrying was sated there was no point in returning to bed. as she pushed onto a wooden stool to saddle her horse, she caught sight of another that her steed had blocked from view. his horse seemed to start and she dropped down from her step with a short gasp, mind still foggy as the morning.

“no, the fault is mine, i thought myself alone, as well,” blue eyes flickered curiously from blond hair to eyes that nearly matched her own, the delicate shape of his mouth. he bore a fair resemblance to the castilian king but she couldn’t recall his countenance from the opening celebrations, “when sleep eludes one, i find it is best to ride out before the sun is high in the sky. however, the heat here in lisbon is not to be trifled with so be sure to take water along, not only wine.” perhaps, she had taken to mothering strangers in the last few years, a habit she’d yet to break.

#santianscrids

ladyofsantorini

austrianblood

ladyofsantorini:

…

status : open to everyone ! location : Palácio da Vila, Lisbon, Portugal

⇢ It seemed that the Portuguese nobleman who claimed ownership of the town palace in Lisbon, which was currently housing the representatives of the Italian League, had his fair share of interest for old antiquities, books, and artworks. This fact, of course, struck a chord on Niccolosa Barozzi’s curiosity, and she explored within a vast room of what seemed to be priceless collectibles and other items she didn’t know the origin of.

While in Venice, the Lady of Santorini acquired an education that would rival a Prince - her family made sure she would receive the same, if not better, than her brother: the man who she recently replaced for this trip. She had the type of personality which was always looking to gain more knowledge and look for any possibilities which could help her cause, and this was definitely influenced by important figures within her life, such as the Superintendent General of the Sea, whom she dearly missed on this travel to Portugal.

Picking up what seemed to be a gold - plated figurine, Niccolosa examined the object of an animal, unsure of the origin of it or the pretense in which it was created. If she didn’t care to be deemed as a thief, she would take all of this nobleman’s belongings back to Santorini, but she cared to develop a good reputation far too much. Distracted by her endeavors, the Lady of Santorini didn’t react when someone called her name, her interest most likely drowning out the sound. When this person called again, she turned and was surprised, like she was taken out of a daze. “ My apologies, your grace. I’m quite fascinated by these things, ” she spoke, her tone strong as she walked around the large room a bit more. Her gaze met the other’s, crossing her ams before she spoke again. “ What brings you to me? ”

Henrietta had a curiosity regarding the palace housing the Italian League but more importantly she was curious about the Lady of Santorini. The making and breaking of alliances would not be an easy quest for the Austrian noblewoman for despite her origins she was not in the same sphere as most in Lisbon. Decried as a harlot, noble birth meant nothing as she had been shuffled about Europe for the first half of her life, forced to ingratiate herself to men of power in exchange for a position and protection. Indeed, she had finally found happiness with Prince Marius, her partner in all things, the father of her precious children but the damage had been done long ago. Still, she would not give in and now that she was a mother it was imperative that she secure a legacy for Maxim and Marie so they would be proud to have her name and that included bringing glory to the realm that controlled her lands. All knew the Italians had wealth but it was the burgeoning Republic of Venice that had foresight and intellect.

“Portugal overflows with beautiful and interesting things, I’ve come to learn.” Henrietta smiled, fingertips ghosting over another of the opulent figurines as she tread further into the room, “I am Lady Henrietta of Austria, I merely wished to make your acquaintance and visit the palace, of course. I hear that somewhere about there is a board for chess made of silver and gold, encrusted with fine jewels.”

#ladyofsantorini

POINT DIVIDER // JULY 21 - JULY 27

+20 points

new total: 275 points

#points

Where does she hope to see her future (as well as Marius, her children) lead, long term? What would her ideal vision be?

Henrietta’s focus has turned to reclaiming her lands in the Holy Roman Empire. Her father Wolfgang von Eggenberg was the Duke of Carinthia and as his last surviving child she was set to inherit. However, due to her young age at the time of his death, there was no one to properly advocate for her rights. Her guardians sold off the land piecemeal to surrounding territories and the title itself briefly went to a distant cousin before he died and the title went extinct for all intents and purposes. In order to exercise her rights as the true Duchess of Carinthia, she intends to gain the favor of the empress and her allies in the hopes that, with some patience, her power will be restored to her. She primarily seeks this for the well-being of her children, wanting stability for them in the wake of Marius’s exile from France. Ideally, she wants his marriage to Caterina annulled so they can be wed and free of their past but she also accepts that France may always be more important to him than she is and simply prays they will continue to make their little family work. They each have their own ambitions but they’ve gone through a lot together and she’s certainly willing to fight for some unique version of a happy ending.

#katrinkc

do you have any regrets in life?

Henrietta has plenty of regrets. She was a young woman when she first arrived at French court and at the time she was vulnerable and in need of some sort of position. She began multiple affairs with men in power, notably the Duke of Étampes who was her financial benefactor during her first years at court. These affairs ceased when she would eventually become the mistress of the then regent and have his son. Despite the many years they spent together, growing tensions in France between the young king’s supporters and her lover, she became involved with Étampes once more, worried for the safety of her son should Marius be overthrown or killed. It was in Florence that she pledged to be loyal to Marius and told him the truth of her dealings with the duke. She’d realized that the prince was the love of her life and that everything would be alright as long as they were together. She stayed true to this and has followed him into exile. She regrets her relationship with Étampes and she regrets the suffering she’s caused Caterina as at the time she had naively thought they all could have been an amicable family. All of their lives could have been quite different.

#isabelofyork

BOLD WHICH HABITS YOUR MUSE HAS.

#hc

allfcnso:

the king of castile could often be seen roaming the labyrinth halls of court; treading below the gothic arches that domed overhead, depictions of ecclesiastical figures carved into the exquisite woodwork, his fair visage brightened by the stained-glass windows that allowed the glow of sunset to stream into the marble walkways, exposing the lively courtyards, bountiful with summery pastimes beyond. encompassed by a gathering of spanish and, a recent addition to his posse, austrian advisers, the king stood out among them as the tallest, the finest-dressed, and, of course, the most easily recognized figure by even foreign mistresses who too meandered the halls. lady henrietta von eggenberg needed no introduction; her reputation proceeded her, and alfonso was aware of her appearance by way of portraiture. first and foremost, he knew her as a harlot. secondly, he knew her to be, at least, an intelligent one. one the empress regarded highly. uncertain where she stood in regards to his own succession –– a train of thought from the empress’ own mind that henrietta would certainly be aware of, given marius’ proximity to the crown –– alfonso treaded on the side of caution.

“lady henrietta.” the clearing of his throat sounded within his chest, followed by a curt lowering of his head in acknowledgement. the stark walls, forged of stone that remained cool to the touch even in the midst of sweltering july climes, caused their words to reverberate louder than they were actually uttered. aware of this, he spoke in low, reverent tones: “any friend of the empress is a friend of mine, i assure you.” king alfonso bided a beat of silence, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a moment of contemplation. a pregnant pause followed, absorbed by the hollow static, the continuous thrum of the emptied halls. unusually quiet, he noted, devoid of the scuttle of nuns passing by, monks and their haunting whistles, or foreign royals and their obnoxious retinues. “these gentlemen were just leaving. will you walk with me, your grace? we will speak in the germanic tongue, if it is most agreeable to you.”

henrietta was accustomed to doing marius’ political bidding as it was the primary way to ensure protection for herself and their family but she knew that she was capable of more. for years she had tried to make peace with her fate, left to rot in france by those tasked with protecting her. she had built a new life for herself there but love had eventually blinded her, leading her to believe she’d left such grudges in the past. then came florence and suddenly she was a girl again, being pushed around by those who were bigger and stronger and it all went back to her damned inheritance. she would have what was owed to her and if that meant presenting herself as an asset to the king of castile then so be it. in any case, it was about time she found a new role to play. “prince marius and i feel much the same,” she replied, settling back into her native tongue. there were no friendships for people like them, per se, only mutually beneficial alliances. “yes, let us take a turn about the palace, it is quite grand, isn’t it? deserving of our appreciation.” jewel-toned eyes watched patiently as his previous companions dispersed, leaving the pair alone in the cavernous hall.

“you may not be aware, but my family were dukes of carinthia for generations, the last being my father. he served the empire until his final days and i intend to do the same.” these were facts known to some but never spoken of aloud by henrietta. her origins had been irrelevant to many considering the life she’d led and so she held certain things close to the vest whilst in france but suddenly it was pertinent. everyone who acted on behalf of a monarch had ambitions of their own whether they wished to admit it or not. “despite popular opinion, i am capable of more than raising children. i wish to make clear that you may charge me with diplomatic tasks if you so require.” delicate hands clasped at her waist, spine always straight as if she could claim a few extra inches of authority. she’d always been loath to shame and she carried herself as such, even as cruel whispers followed her from the empire to france to florence and back again.

#allfcnso

POINT DIVIDER // JULY 14 - JULY 20

+25 points

total: 255 points

#points

closed for: @allfcnso

location: palácio dos estaus, early evening

lady henrietta had come to the palace with the intent of sharing supper with an old acquaintance of her father’s, a margrave who claimed to know her as a little girl. it had taken approximately five minutes and half a cup of wine to realize that the man did not seek a family reunion of sorts, only her favor as she rose in the estimation of the holy roman empress. in any other case she would have known better but her late father had always been her weakness. men never ceased to disappoint. she was preparing to leave when she spotted the king of castile as she walked through the main hall. since arriving in portugal she had only seen him from afar, he and his wife making for a handsome couple, and while she did not care for spanish affairs it seemed her empress favored her son-in-law for succession. each ruler was less and less austrian but her father would have reminded her that it was the nature of power and not her place to question the empress’s choices. perhaps, it did not matter who wore the crown as long as the duchy of carinthia was ruled by the house of eggenberg.

“your grace,” she greeted, fair head bowed in respect, “we have not yet been properly introduced. i am lady henrietta von eggenberg, a loyal subject of her highness, the holy roman empress.” she had become used to introducing herself in this way. while her relationship with marius was common knowledge she felt that she was more than a mistress, a concubine and apollonia saw that within her. the whispers had been unkind to alfonso of castile but whether there was an air of truth to them had yet to be determined. she knew better than most that rumors often arose out of the basest of assumptions. “his grace, the prince of france has spoken highly of yourself as well as queen magdalena and it is an honor to make your acquaintance, i am sure.”

#allfcnso #15

rosalindinwaiting:

“I can hardly blame them, I suppose there is much to chat about since the proceedings have begun and I’m sure their husbands are all quite busy.” Henrietta could only be grateful that she had escaped their prattling and for once her own reputation had been spared. It was something she’d learned to live with long ago but perhaps she was old and tired and merely wanted to be able to marry the man she loved. “I am Lady Henrietta von Eggenberg, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My family and I have come to Lisbon with the Holy Roman Empress’s party.” It was still odd, the notion that she now had a true family even if it looked a bit different than most. The prince and their children had made her resilient enough to hold out hope for a happily ever after. “Was your journey a painless one? I never minded travel until my children came along, delicate little things.” Motherhood had indeed made her a worrier but she’d rather fret over Maxim and Marie than be all alone in the world. “As a girl I resided in England for a short while and I don’t remember much but the weather which I quite enjoyed. The scent of wet Earth and the fog settling over the moors, well, it was like a dream.”

#rosalindinwaiting

POINT DIVIDER / JUNE 29 - JULY 13

+ 115 points

total: 230 points

#points

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