CATERINA DE MEDICI. Daughter of the late Lorenzo de’ Medici, Duke of Urbino and Lord of Florence, and Madeleine de La Tour d'Auvergne. Great-Granddaughter of Lorenzo Il Magnifico de’ Medici, defacto ruler of Florence, and Clarice Orsini.
small mercies— nalini could count the small mercies granted to her in england on one hand. but she would accept this one, take it greedily and tuck it away for later. nalini relaxed, flashing her most charming smile, remembering all the times that it had stunned onlookers into distraction. this lady, rosy-cheeked like spring, was forgiving now, but people— no matter where they called home— were quick to turn.
“there is no offense, my lady, please!” nalini insisted, taking the lady’s hand in earnest. “your kindness is treasured!”
nalini paused. there was something familiar in the lady’s cadence of speech. she cocked her head, jhumka earrings swinging, as she considered, before her face lit up again. “come voi piacete l’inghilterra, madonna?” her accent, much more pronounced in english, diminished once she began to speak italian, what she hoped was the lady’s mother tongue.
“ Kindness? It was but an accident... ” Caterina wished she could be surprised or confused by the apparent relief in the other woman’s reaction to her, but not all of the nobility were aware that mistakes were a common practice, then the hand taking her own lured a smile and a gentle nod from the Florentine. “ I must admit that I was rather captivated by your tale; I did not understand but you appeared so passionate. ”
Even after only having been away from her home for a few months, words pronounced in a familiar tongue set Caterina’s heart alight with familiarity and her expression softening in a strange sense of comfort. There were masses of people at court but so very few spoke the language she knew as part of herself, those that could chose to opt for a more universal tongue, so she could not even begin to express how she appreciated it. “Fa freddo ma sto imparando molto. You speak my mother tongue very well, you have lived on the peninsula perhaps? ”
nalini was an avid storyteller, a creator of beautiful lies. she had always been so: in the beginning, it was to whittle away the hours spent alone in dusty nooks and crannies in her childhood home. later on, she could polish to a high sheen myths and old folktales to tell the sailors aboard the ship that carried her to europe. she was so animated— not only using her voice in stories, but her eyes, her hands, even her nose.
such was the moment that she was so absorbed in— telling her beloved sneha an english tale she had to translate, meandering through the halls, walking backwards— that she did not see her surroundings, much less the person that the back of her flailing hand collided into. abruptly, she switched languages to apologize, hoping she hadn’t hit anyone too malicious.
“oh! —forgive me!”
The court was so full of foreign tongues that they all seemed to blur into one, as they had during her visits to Rome due to her arms remaining wide open to the Christian world, but there was one which was not familiar in any way to Caterina’s ears - least of all in accent. She found herself drawn to the voice’s owner out of curiosity, watching for a moment as she lead a conversation with another in quite an animated way.
Once the moment passed the Florentine continued to drift around in almost a daze until a hand swatted her out of her trance, only to find the owner of said hand was the same person she had earlier been curious about. “ There is no forgiveness necessary, truly, you must never apologise for being as lost in conversation as you appeared to be. I hope my interruption was not incredibly rude? ”
The first glance into the room informed Charles that he was not entirely welcome in the Medici stronghold, but custom dictated his presence be tolerated. Stormy weather was threatened by pairs of eyes and brows, eyes full of insolent delight, and brows furrowed and hard as marble. England had yet to bestow such hostility on him until this moment, and he knew not if he relished conflict once more, or longed for the unflinching respect he had been granted until now. A cool phrase was uttered to officially announce his arrival, though Charles cared little to converse with the entire room. Caterina sat aside, though her countenance shared the same cold temperature as held by the other ladies in the room. He made his way towards her, drawing a bizarre strength from the air of hostility between them, and the hardened look on her noble feature felt as familiar as a childhood companion. “Caterina, forgive me for taking so long to seek out your company; I hope the amiable talk between us will make up for lost time.” Inviting himself to sit with a look of great arrogance, Charles gave a gallant wave of his hand, an invitation for her to speak.
The appearance of the Emperor was not such a surprise it was, however, surprising that it had taken quite so long. Caterina’s dear uncle may no longer have been Pope, but the man currently carrying the Papal crown was yet another figure raised at the side of the Medici and Caterina’s arrival at court had been at his pleasure; to keep the legitimate Medici on side was surely to keep the Pope on side also, was it not? The rightful Ducessa did not rise from her seat, shoulders holding a noble posture with hands sitting idly upon the skirts covering her lap, as Charles invited himself to sit much to the displeasure of the ladies whose company the Florentine had been keeping. With a polite smile and a nod, the surrounding woman rose to curtsy and excuse themselves at Caterina’s silent gesture so to eliminate the audience to Charles’ display of power - or whatever it was he desired to achieve from a display of such arrogance. “ Charles. I believe there to be no forgiveness necessary, surely an Emperor has greater matters to tend to than a guest in His Holiness’ place? It is not your court, after all, you need not entertain the guests. Though I must admit that I almost did not recognise you, it has been quite some years, has it not? I feel as though I was but a girl when we last met. ”
Henri’s eyes narrowed in concern as the young Florentine hurried toward him, any thought of formality for the sake of others forgotten at the fear in her voice. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms securely around her waist. One arm moved to smooth over her hair, hoping that the motion would be soothing. “Shh, Caterina. I am well. I am not hurt.” He reassured, thankful for the explanation however brief. Before the words came from her lips, he’d been ready to draw sword and protect her. Too often he’d been denied that ability, stuck in Spain, a mere princeling with no power to save her from the beasts that wished her harm.
He exhaled deeply, leaning so that he could brush his nose against her hair. He inhaled, committing her to memory without meaning to. “I am well.” He repeated, his voice soft and reassuring as his guards looked on. He was thankful they’d not drawn their own swords, that they’d been wise enough to assess the situation and correctly judge he was far from harm’s way. “The whispers speak of the English king. You are frightened still. Cosa posso fare? You will come to no harm whilst I am here, Caterina. I promise you that.” His words were firm, insistent, as he kept his hold on the petit woman. His own heart thundered in his chest, only now slowing at the recognition that she was alright.
“Come, I am heading to the apartment. You will sit with me until you are again calm. I’ll send for tea, and furs to warm you.” He commanded, lifting his head from hers as he gently reached down to her chin. His thumb held to her, guiding her to look up at him. “I will protect you, Caterina de Medici. Capisci?” He questioned, needing to see the acceptance in her eyes. How could he not desire such, when she had been a light in a very dark time? When she had written of riding with the Pope himself to his aid? He cherished her, in whatever way he was able.
- Previous meetings had balanced upon the edge of formality as though it were a dance, both too afraid to be the one to take a step out of line for fear it might change the dance or worried the other may not follow, but in that moment it hadn’t even crossed Caterina’s mind to adhere to propriety. She had not been the daughter of great leaders as she flew down the corridor, a Duchess in her own right, nor had he been the heir to France when she flung her arms around him and he caught her as if it had been expected. No, instead they had been the pair whom had written countless letters to one another in both the brightest and darkest of times, it had been what Caterina had desired to do above all else when reading from Henri’s own hand the trials he had faced and she selfishly refused to apologise for it.
The young Florentine sighed of relief as she leaned into the warmth radiating from Henri, feeling surprisingly comfortable in embracing someone who, after a hand full of meetings in person, would be considered a stranger by most but to her he was quite the opposite; instead, he was her oldest friend. “ I feared the worst and I could not bear to stand aside and simply wait to see if you were well with my own eyes. ” The familiar language which slipped rather perfectly from his tongue surprised and impressed her, so much so that it sent a flutter of familiarity into her stomach, she had read his words in her mother tongue in the past but there had been every chance someone wrote it for him or translated - this, however, was as real as he was and how it made her adore him even more so.
Another sigh escaped her upon following his hand to look upon his face, eyes wandering beautifully handsome features for a moment as though painting them upon a canvas in memory, before it as shortly followed by a slight nod and her hands leaving the embrace to wrap around the hand which had lifted her gaze. “ Oui, mon ami. ” A French accent pushed aside her usual Florentine tongue with a small smile curving her lips, just as a blush of embarrassment came upon her cheeks. “ I hope you will forgive my...outburst. You have written to me in terrible circumstances several times, I was useless and helpless then, I could not live with myself had I lost - had we lost the Dauphin. Can you forgive me? ”
- Henry is missing. The rumours spreading through court were growing at an alarming rate, snowballing as they passed from tongue to tongue, gaining weight as each person added their own assumptions to the alarming absence which had everyone on edge. Caterina de’ Medici hadn’t had any gossip spoken to her personally but it was hard not to hear whispers which made her feel sick to her stomach. She had made it through breakfast, her mind racing with thoughts of what may have come of the man in question, before fear got the better of her and her feet carried her through the palace at quite a panicked rate; entirely unaware of just how wrong she had taken the rumours.
Thoughts running through her head were akin to those she had during the times Henri wrote to her whilst captive and she wrote to him in similar circumstances, fear plaguing her and causing a tightening in her chest, until a sight further ahead put a stop to it all. The corridor was empty apart from a figure ahead, caution made her slow in pace for a moment but never stopping entirely, and it didn’t take long before heels tapped loudly against the stone floor as Caterina rushed forward. “ Henri! ” Formality was lost as the Florentine only came to a stop right in front of the French Prince, arms raising instantly to wrap around his neck in an embrace - as she has wished she could do so many times when reading his letters in the past. “ There are whispers that a Henry was missing and I feared the worst. Are you well? Are you hurt? ”
The portrait was yet another gift from the King. Since her arrival at court Claude has recieved plenty of them, but this one was special. The French monarch promised her - and she believed his promises so far - that the painting will remain in the main hall of the court, for ever.
The promise of this little immortality was the only thing that stopped her from moving too much. With heavy pearl nacklace on her neck, one sleeve of her dress slightly stripped, and armful of white peonies in her pale hands she was staring at the young artist who couldn’t help but gazed back at her from behind the easel more often than he ought to.
Even once Claude heard the steps of someone entering the chamber, she didn’t look at them. “ Forgive me, is the matter urgent? I was clearly told not to move… Or maybe you simply wish me to deliver some messages to the King? I don’t do that anymore…”
- “ It would seem that it is I whom must ask of your forgiveness, I am still somewhat new to court and these corridors are akin to a maze. ” Caterina’s gaze wandered the scene she had stumbled upon, the woman standing almost perfectly still and the man seemingly hiding behind his easel, before letting her curiosity get the better of her and her feet carried her in the direction of the artist. “ Artista, ” she greeted the man with a smile and a graceful nod, looking at the work he had already begun and occasionally glancing to his muse for comparison. “ These are French chambers, si? If not I do beseech your forgiveness, I did not mean to intrude, I merely wished to speak with a friend but I seem to have taken a very wrong turn. Which King is it you refer to? We do not seem to be in short supply of them here. ”
Sandro Botticelli - The Adoration of the Magi. 1476
Presentation of the members of the Medici family as kings: Cosimo (kneeling), Piero de ‘Medici and Giovanni (back figures in the center) and members of the Medici court
while not as comfortable as her beautiful home in italy, the english palace had some positives. an example being the change of scenery. with much of her life being spent in italy and belgium, she’d hardly the time to travel. as she settled into the chaise lounge, her lips pulled into a wide smile listening to her story. she’d missed her sister in law dearly before arriving in england. she could hardly imagine having to be here alone. “ now, caterina, ” she teased in a lilting voice, “ mind your words; i hear the english walls have ears of their own. nothing is secret. ” giving the other a wink, she moved to pour them both goblets of wine. “ the journey was – long, to say the least of it. i am grateful to not be bounced around inside of a carriage anymore. though, with journey’s as long as ours, the fact that it was uneventful is good. and what of you? how have you been fairing? what have i missed? you must fill me in on everything. ”
- “ Perhaps that is true, however, I do not think even my brother is able to hear us from Firenze, ” the Florentine teased with an equally as playful smile as she made herself comfortable in the presence of the other. In truth there was no company she found to be more welcoming than this - being able to enjoy a rare moment of peace with the sister she had always prayed for.- and she would make certain to milk it for all it was worth. “ An uneventful journey is often a pleasant journey indeed. I must admit that I have been quite well... Very well, I might say. I fear I have been quite anti-social as of late, the journey made me awfully tired, though I have had one meeting which was both unexpected and entirely pleasant. I was finally able to speak with Henri beyond letters - or, should I say, the Dauphin. Though my brother and his advisors must not know this, do you promise to not say a word? I will not have them force my hand. ”
Her words met Henri’s ears but did not seem to process in his mind. He could do naught but stare at the young woman before him. It felt an eternity as he drank in the young Lady. He’d seen her portrait before, but never had he had the privilege of meeting Caterina in the flesh. He’d written her countless letters, and had thought of a voice to match the words written on parchment, but he’d never heard it from her lips. “Caterina,” He spoke, voice low and wistful as if he wasn’t quite sure she was truly there. After a moment, he collected himself, palm moving to rest at the nape of his neck as he tried to shake the embarrassment of being so caught off guard.
“Madonna de Medici, you are wise beyond your years, as prudent and favorable in counsel in the flesh as you are by letter.” His lips edged upward into a smile as he bent his head toward her, hand moving to request her palm so that he might lay his kiss upon her skin. “I was unaware you were in England, my lady, but what a pleasant surprise is this. You are, of course, correct in your presumptions. I shall loose my arrow, if you will be most gracious as to stay and converse with me, else I would be more pleased to accompany you in whatever endeavors you choose.”
- Caterina had been on an aimless wander when the French Prince had been pointed out to her and, for her nerves, she had almost carried on walking by. For each letter she had received over the years she found herself imagining the young man as he put ink upon paper but naught could compare to truly laying eyes upon him - not even the portrait she had dearly cherished for so long. Which she now believed did not do him enough justice. Nerves almost rooted her to the spot once a gaze which was almost familiar fell upon her, an excitable smile threatening to pull her lips into a grin only to be knocked out of her along with her breath at the sound of her name upon his lips - for a sweeter sound she had never heard and she swore none should ever be as sweet again.
Her pale hand granted her permission by resting into his own, Henri’s touch feeling just as warm as the words he had written in comfort to her in the most trying of times, as she offered a gesture of her own in the form of a curtsy and a gentle whisper of ‘mon dauphin’ in greeting. “ Well the servant whom usually passes on my letters has taken ill so I thought I might deliver it by hand, though I had not intended to take you by surprise and I apologise if I have, I was merely passing by and could not bear to hear you torment yourself over the fate of your soul. I fear the child of eleven in me would not allow me to do anything other than stay and converse, your highness, she is very fond of her dear friend Henri, you see, though I believe that I am even fonder. ...But do not let me be a distraction - your target awaits. ”
- “ As a young child, I once spent an entire lent praying that God might grant me a true sister of mine own. I have love for my brother, of course, but the bond of sisterhood is one I have craved for as long as I am able to remember... ” To be in a foreign court was always unnerving for even the most experienced of nobles; but Caterina was not one of them. Her greatest of comfort zones were either in Florence or Rome, this was to be her first venture overseas and without so much as a parent or guardian to accompany her - only servants and a distant cousin - so it was no surprise that she had been absolutely delighted to spot Margherita amongst the chaos of it all.
“ I suppose I did not think my prayers through when that required you to marry my darling brother but at least he has remained in Florence for the time being. Pray you tell me that you are well, how was your journey? Oh how desperately you must miss your husband already... ”
Laughter, bright and true, rang from Maddalena’s lips as she collected her skirts modestly to adjust her shoe once more. “I beseech you, have compassion!” She jested, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and warmth from dancing the last several steps. The dance itself was rather quickly paced, and learning it to expertise would take time. While she retained her wardrobe, preferring the Urbino style to that of the English court, she knew well that learning the dances would serve her in far more than increasing personal knowledge and skill.
“Permit me try again. Go on, where did I go wrong that I must surely trip over mine shoe each time?” She smirked, shaking her head absently as she smoothed her hands over her skirts to settle them into place once more. “You must also allow me to teach you my own favorite, I promise to be more skilled in dance than I seem.”
- Skirts twirled with stifled laughter, feet threatening to trip over one another as the dancing came to a halt. It was an odd companionship considering the rivalry which ran deep through their fathers, or which had once ran through their veins where Caterina’s late father was concerned, but the Medici’s time in Rome had been an isolating and to find any sort of ‘friendship’ was invaluable. It was craved, in fact.
“ I believe I now understand why the English stand at attention and talk so much, their dances are akin to walking on ice. ” Caterina spoke in hushed tones, intending only for her Roman companion to hear her words, leaving their apparent dance teacher unaware. “ Why are you so intent in learning these English steps, Madonna? Have these chilly shores won your heart so dearly that you intend to stay? ”
“it must be unfortunate to be a stable boy, mucking the stalls each day and having to prepare horses of varying tempers,” isabel mused as she briefly glanced upon the scene being caused nearby the hitching posts. the servant on duty that day was having a challenging time bringing a horse out of its stall, with the creature making its intention to not be rode quite clear. in turn, the baron who had made the request to ride had grown impatient with the young man and began to overturn buckets of manure. “lord clifton ought to be kinder.”
- “ Perhaps we see before our very eyes the reason the horse is so...hesitent. ” Caterina spoke in a low tone as she observed the same scene, drifting closer to the musing woman so that she might share in her disapproval. “ A lot can be said for a man by the way he treats those lesser than him; if he treats those who seek to serve him thus we can only imagine how he would treat the animal, no? Unless he treats beast better than man - in which case he is even worse than he first appears. ”
☆ ━ ━ OUT OF THE WAY ! can’t you see CATERINA DE MEDICI, the LADY of FLORENCE coming this way ? I hear SHE is STRONG WILLED, but also SHELTERED. SHE seems to remind everyone of FLOWING RIVERS, SMOOTH MARBLE, .&. HIGH TOWERS. hopefully one day SHE will succeed in HER ambition to DO HER DUTY AND CLAIM HER OWN POSITION IN SOCIETY, but then again, the court is a dangerous place. one can only hope SHE will keep HER head… ( ECE ÇESMIOGLU ) ━ ━ ☆ as written by BEE ;;
Italian baby number two and none of us are surprised that it’s a Medici, let’s be honest. So I’ll be keeping Catherine pretty accurate where history is concerned and only really changing the fact that she isn’t married to Henri of Valois. Here’s a little break down of her dramatic life so far:
In 1519 Caterina Maria Romula di Lorenzo de' Medici was born in Florence of Lorenzo de’ Medici, the Duke of Urbino, and Madeleine de La Tour d'Auvergne, the daughter of the Count of Auvergne and the Duchess of Bourbon. She was and would remain the only child born of the couple, though she has an illegitimate brother who would go on to become the Duke of Florence after her father; though he was rumoured to potentially be the son of Pope Clement instead of the Medici Duke. According to a contemporary chronicler, when Catherine was born, her parents were "as pleased as if it had been a boy”.
Before she was even a month old, Catherine’s parents died within six days of each other and left the young babe into the care of her paternal grandmother, after Pope Leo denied King Francis of France’ request for her to be raised at French Court, until her grandmother also passed away a year later. From 1520 to 1523, Catherine lived with her aunt Clarice de’ Medici in Rome where she was raised and educated with her cousins - an ideal upbringing which was once again cut short when Pope Clement, her great uncle, returned her to Florence to live in state.
Catherine lived happily in the Medici Palazzo, where the people of Florence could see the young girl they referred to as duchessina (”the little duchess”) in defense of her unrecognised claim to the Duchy of Urbino., until relations between the Medici and the public turned sour in 1527. A faction opposing Pope Clement’s representative in Florence overthrew the Medici family, forcing them all to flee the city; except for young Caterina whom was held by the Signoria and then placed in a series of convents.
From 1527 to 1530, when Catherine was between the ages of eight and eleven, moved amongst a series of convent - one of which would be described as the “happiest of her entire life” - until the Pope had no choice but to crown Charles as Holy Roman Emperor in exchange for his help in retaking the city. In the October of 1529 troops laid siege to Florence, amongst them were men whom called for eleven year old Caterina to be killed and exposed naked upon the city walls, some even suggested she be passed amongst them for their own sick pleasure, adding to the young girl’s fear for her life.
On the 12th of August in 1530 the republic finally surrendered and Pope Clement summoned Caterina safely from her convent so he could embrace her and see her safely in Rome once more. Upon her arrival in Rome great interest was taken in the young Medici girl, proposals of marriage arriving from various envoys, most notable from the King of Scotland himself, all of which were rejected by the Pope at first for he sought a union with France for his niece and the security of the Medici family.
In 1531, Caterina visited her home in Florence for the elevation of her illegitimate brother as the ruler of the city as their father had been before him; returning once more to see him later crowned as Duke in 1532 with every intention in staying for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately, the Medici Pope, Clement, passed away in the September of 1534 and this spelled misfortune for the resurrecting rule of the Medici. The new Pope, Pope Paul III, was not of their kin and therefore had no obligations to the family or to Caterina’s marriage prospects; made very clear by his refusal to fulfill Clement’s promise on paying her future dowry, but all was not lost. Pope Paul, previously known as Alessandro Farnese, grew up in the court of Caterina’s Grandfather (Lorenzo Il Magnifico) and still took some interest in the future of the family, summoning Caterina to Rome once more before she was sent on her way to England to join the rest of the world’s Nobility in negotiations and search for a potential husband.
