madame royale

isabeau de valois madame royale of france rp account

[isabeaudevalois]

location: hunting lodge featuring: @giovannamedici​

isabeau had not seen giovanna in some time, still lost in her own grief, and as she made her way toward a lodge that she knew giovanna was staying in, she wondered what the other woman had been up to. upon arriving, she stepped down from the carriage with help from her footman and waited for the other woman to receive her. when she saw giovanna, however, isabeau abandoned some of the propriety she would have otherwise engaged in, and reached out, clasping giovanna’s hands in her own before pressing kisses of greeting to the other woman’s cheeks.

“giovanna, how i have missed you!” she exclaimed, the smile reaching her eyes in a way it had not done so in quite some time. “what are you doing all the way out here? it is rather beautiful, however. i rather enjoyed the ride.”

[isabeaudevalois]

christinedartois‌:

C  L  O  S  E  D;; Christine and Isabeau @isabeaudevalois​

Someone that Christine had missed very much in France, was the Princess Isabeau. Having grown up with the princess, the distance from her and not being able to talk to the person she considered one of her closest friends for the past few months that she had been in Switzerland was agony for Christine, who greatly missed their sisterly conversations about anything and everything. Toting with her a new selection of ribbons from France of the latest fashion as a small token gift, Christine waited to be announced by Isabeau’s guards, proceeding into the princess’s chambers when she was called and beaming as soon as she set sight on the woman that she saw as a sister. 

“Isabeau! I’ve missed you!” she exclaimed, her arms circling around the other woman, “There is so much that we should catch up on, I want to hear everything about what has been going on here with how long you’ve been away from home!” 

isabeau had been angry when claude had taken christine from her; she supposed there was some poetry in the fact that the two generations had been ladies in waiting for the queen, but it was isabeau who had grown up with christine – not claude – and she had rather wanted the woman for her own retinue. but claude’s selfishness ( for that’s all isabeau could see it as ) was hardly christine’s fault and so isabeau received the woman she’d known most of her life with a smile and an embrace, pressing a soft kiss of greeting to her cheeks.

“and i have missed you, christine.” her smile was genuine. “so much has happened here, not all of it good, i’m afraid.” her brows knit together on her face. “the king, as you know, still demands i wed a german bastard and i wish for little more than to be back home.” her lips pressed together. “and how were your travels?”

[isabeaudevalois]

antiquatus‌:

with @isabeaudevalois

it’s terrible, really, how absence has become such a familiar feeling. ever since the start, their presence here seems to have attracted such miserable portents: the disaster that was the fireworks show ought to have been enough to stir hesitation in them, and the events that capped off the spring fair were signs most foul and symptoms of a burgeoning conspiracy that threatened to eat them all alive should they stay here longer. 

(  giulio had heard tell that the recent eclipse is only further proof of God’s wrath—and even if he himself lays no claim to any superstitious tendency, he recognises its strategic usefulness in the present situation.  )

yet the swiss king gathered them all here for the purpose of establishing a peace, however ludicrous that idea seems now, and giulio might have differing ambitions but he is still condemned to play in a board that he has not set up. therefore, there is the matter of following up with past matters, of solidifying links he has set up and channels he tried to pursue outside of the purloin of the Pope and the established Church line.

he comes to isabeau with a bejeweled book of hours, one of the many he has in his possession though one that is precious all the same. medici money has granted him privilege aplenty and has ensured his coffers remain full, and he has used such funds for cultivating the artistic heritage of the Church. it seems to him frivolous now, but it has given him stock for gifts aplenty—and that, perhaps, should be something he is grateful for.

❛  votre altesse royale,  ❜  he says, bowing as his hands put forward the book of hours, wrapped up in black linen, though in such a way that it is still painstakingly obvious what it was that he was giving her.  ❛  i am sorry for the loss of your nephew,  ❜  he says, tone serious,  ❛  especially considering that it is to my understanding that his parents were unable to consecrate him properly to God.  ❜  perhaps it is tossing salt in an open wound, blurting that statement out like that in such a manner; but to giulio, it only underscores the importance of getting to her earlier request. perhaps she will be reminded of it now, and she will come to realise the urgency of the sacrament of baptism.  

❛  my gift is humble,  ❜  he adds, almost a last-second addition and it’s clear enough that his words are a lie.  ❛  i hope it offers you some sort of solace in this trying time.  ❜

the madame royale of france had found herself more and more disillusioned with life in switzerland. she missed her beloved chenonceau, her own lands, and with each passing moment that she remained on foreign soil, she wondered which of her beloved people would be the next to perish. it was not a feeling she enjoyed.

she had been angry with jacques’ death, more than sad, for it had ruined all of her machinations regarding the baptism she’d worked so hard for. isabeau did not wish for france to remain excommunicated and the cardinal, brother of one of her dearest friends, had been her greatest hope in ensuring so. ( and while she supposed that she could expect things would still work well for henri and perhaps for adhemar, she would always wonder just how long jacques would languish in hell, unable to be saved for the circumstances that had arisen )

her lips pressed together when she heard that the cardinal was to visit her, though she would not have forbidden or ignored such a visit: it was kind enough that he was coming to her instead of making her go to him, as many men had done before. the madame royale offered a smile, wan and thin-lipped, as he presented a book wrapped in black linen in front of her. “your eminence,” she said, not forgetting her manners. “thank you for your visit,” she said carefully, gesturing to a chair opposite her that he could sit in if he so desired. “they were not able, no. it is my hope that we might be able to consecrate his brother soon, however.” her fingers might have tightened, might have reacted involuntarily to the remark after how hard she had worked, but isabeau said nothing.

instead, she turned toward the book in her hand and slowly removed the black linen. eyes widened, for clearly this gift was not nearly as humble as the wrapping might have suggested. she expected that if she were to open the bejeweled cover, she might find illuminations aplenty inside, and her eyes widened, filling with moisture. “you do me great honor, your eminence. i thank you and i shall treasure this always.” her words were genuine and she exhaled, softly and heavily.

[isabeaudevalois]

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[isabeaudevalois]

duchessfriederike‌:

Friedi loved Ferdinand dearly. She loved all her siblings, but she was perhaps a little defensive when it came to her elder brother. Like she, he faced much scorn simply for being who he was, and she admired his capacity to laugh off some of the more judgemental of looks in his direction. What Isabeau spoke of did not tally with the brother she knew. Perhaps this was one of his tactics to put an end to the engagement, as Friedi suspect he wanted to do. “Maybe he is trying to get you to see what he wants you to see, rather than the other way around.” She suggested gently. She had never known him to attach such preconceived notions to people before. “I can only imagine. If there is anything I can do…” she trailed off, leaving unspoken what they both knew of. There was nothing Friedi could do to ease the pain of losing family. 

“I have always been a little afraid of bees,” she confessed. “I suppose their existence is worth it for the honey, as long as they exist far, far from me.” She broke off a bit of the cake and popped it in her mouth, taking her time to chew and swallowed. “She is. You would think she would be as spoiled as Leopold.” It wasn’t for lack of trying, but Friedi could not think about how favoured Dot had been without a pang of jealousy. “She does. She has many strange hobbies, my sister.”

it was not proper, that isabeau knew, to discuss so openly how she felt about the man she was to marry. she had hated the idea of ferdinand for so long that once she’d finally met him, she saw a glimpse of a future that was much happier than she’d previously envisioned. to have that taken away as it had been in their last meeting had wounded Isabeau greatly, though she did not wish to admit that to friedi of all people. she smiled at the other woman’s comment and inclined her head. “I had not considered that,” she admitted, her voice soft and quiet in a way that was rare. “and you would know him better than i.” her lips turned up into a tremulous smile and she nodded, ever so softly. “if there is anything can do, i will let you know. Your offer is appreciated, friedi, as is your friendship.”

a laugh left her lips. “i understand the feeling. and their buzzing sound is not one i enjoy very much.” she took another bite of the cake, very pleased with how it felt on her tongue. ears perked up as friedi spoke of dorothea and leopold, though she still had yet to meet the latter. “i still have yet to meet your youngest brother,” she admitted. she was not certain she wished to. “but i have enjoyed dot’s company; it is a gift, to live as she does.”

[isabeaudevalois]

location: sasso corbaro courtyard featuring: @ferdinandlorraine​

the afternoon party, held in one of the gardens outside the palace, was a nice respite from all the political discussions of late. perhaps their hostess, a minor swiss noble, had not thought it would be a problem to invite isabeau de valois and ferdinand of lorraine to the same event. certainly it might even appear polite, for the two were still betrothed to be married, even if neither of them were particularly looking forward to it. but being seated beside one another was too difficult, especially for a woman who recalled just how hard she had slapped the man when they’d last had any significant conversation.

she lifted a goblet of wine to her lips and it was only after the liquid was swallowed that the madame royale spoke. her tone was soft and gentle, much more so than he had seen before. “i would prefer it if we could at least find a way to coexist.” her lips pressed together. “i do not wish to wed a stranger, ferdinand.”

[isabeaudevalois]

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[isabeaudevalois]

inconnuis‌:

a starter for @isabeaudevalois!

not a lot of good things had come out of the valois staying in suisse thus far.

indeed, with the recent arrival of their second oldest brother, louis had remained still and preoccupied — silently waiting for an advantage, anything that would remove him from the poisonous questions that lingered in the depths of his mind with such ferocity.

perhaps the only light at the end of the tunnel was the presence of his younger sister. isabeau was france’s most important crown jewel and dearly cherished by her older brother despite tensions running high within the valois family in light of cumbersome duties and recent events. but if there was little louis was certain of, he at least retained a deep sense of loyalty and love for the only person who had seen him through all the ups and downs of his life without judgement. a gesture he had only been all too happy to return in kind.

“aren’t you the loveliest sight these days.” a part of the boy in the man slipped through when he leaned forward to press a kiss on the crown of his sister’s head before brushing aside a stray blonde lock. isabeau radiated a light he was only all too fond of basking in.

(such beauty, he agreed, was all but wasted on the german bastard.)

“don’t you tire of all the unknown faces.” louis briefly studied his younger sister before settling in one of the seats in her reception rooms, his head falling back in exhaustion. there had been no respite and the stiffness of courtly behavior was beginning to wear him down. with his eyes closed, the prince exhaled once and perhaps for a minute, he felt at peace with himself and the world before eyes flew open to reveal blue-grey eyes roaming his sister’s features in curosity. “what have you been up to? i haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

isabeau missed chenonceau, the chateau on the river her father had bestowed upon her before his death. there, she could focus on her own amusement instead of politics, could whittle her days away on boats in the river, drinking wine that had come from grapes grown in her own vineyard. there was little else she wished for at the moment but to return. at least she had her family with her; at the sight of louis’ face, her own grew brighter.

she smiled, preening under louis’ attentions, as she had since she was a girl. he alone would look out for her first, of that she truly believed. “aren’t i the loveliest sight always?” she inquired, her lips curving upward with amusement, the teasing coming easily with louis, as everything did. there were none she trusted so much or loved so fiercely as her brother. the madame royale went up onto her tiptoes to press kisses to each of his cheeks before she inclined as she looked around them. “i even tire of swiss air,” she remarked, the barb caustically leaving her lips. “i would like for nothing more than to return home.”

at the question, she hummed briefly. “very little. i am still working on ensuring that henri and adhemar are given a baptism before we leave here.” isabeau remained angry that she had been unable to secure one for jacques, that all of her bargaining, her threats and promises, had meant nothing, that her attempts were for naught. “it is my hope that we may return to the fold of the holy roman empire.” if she could convince charles of it, of course. “and what of you, my favorite brother? what has filled your days since the wedding?”

[isabeaudevalois]

forgedsecrets‌:

closed starter for: @isabeaudevalois​.

location: charles’ chambers.

slender digits made way for the shiny material that contained the stained liquid. his presence hadn’t been contained to the confides of the room for very long, but plans had been made to meet the youngest valois to discuss a particular topic. not much of a topic really but a person. one that for the time being both siblings shared an amount of loathing for. a brother. 

at a young age charles had been challenged by both mother and father to pledge his loyalty, not only to his country but to the reigning monarch of his homeland of france. a promise that he did in fact made, swearing his allegiance to both father and brother — who would after the demise of their father become sovereign to the kingdom. it was a promise that he held near and swore to never break. but as his journey into life unraveled the promises of yesterday became that of falsehood. his faith in the eldest sibling diminished beyond repair after the death of his youngest son, but the truth was that his faith had began wearing down long before the royals and nobles had traveled to switzerland.

what remained was simply enough to pose a false sense of security around the other nobles of france and who were settled into switzerland alike. showing his distaste for the king, and brother, at a time where peace was on the brink was just not possible. or smart. 

his eyes were quick to jolt from their position at the fire to the opening of the doors where he noticed an all too familiar face. a grin began to develop at either corner of his lips as she made her way into the room; his mind plagued with paranoia as he wondered had anyone followed her. the way the two discussed their brother at times could be considered treacherous, and losing his life over hypothetical situations was certainly not the way he planned on going out. but nonetheless, their conversations continued and would for as long as they felt the need to discuss their ill temper towards the elder. 

‘ it’s nice to see you again, little sister, ’ he spoke as if they hadn’t seen each other earlier in the day, ‘ did anyone see you come here ? ’

isabeau had made no secret of her disdain for her eldest brother. for a time, she had attempted to make do with what he had given her, well aware that their father might not have been the best example in his rash actions. after all, it was not her brother’s fault that they were excommunicated, much as she might wish to blame it on him.

but then he had sold her to a german bastard before he’d decided staying at his sickly son’s side was more effective than caring for the people of france, for the needs of his family, for those who depended upon him. perhaps, if he had shown any sort of remorse, she might have been able to forgive him. after all, she did not entirely hate ferdinand. and then jacques had died, the life pulled from him before she could arrange the baptism, and any sort of forgiveness was the furthest thought from her mind. she had arranged to meet with her brother charles to discuss how to best move forward – for france and for their family – and she had been careful to ensure she was not followed.

at his greeting, she inclined her head, hair loose around her shoulders as she was with family. her smile was genuine. “charles,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she swept into the room, her skirts swishing around her feet. if his son had not just died, she might have chastised him for his paranoia. instead, she indulged him, her lips quirked at the corners as she shook her head. “no, none have followed me.” she exhaled quickly. “and if someone had, they would likely have agreed. the king is awful.” her lips thinned and eyes flashed with an anger that was not often shown to many. “and he should not have that title at all; a king is dutiful toward his subjects. kings do not sit at their children’s sickbeds when their people are suffering.”

[isabeaudevalois]

jagellicn‌:

The French princess would serve as a most welcome distraction, and if they end their conversation with friendship and camaraderie, then at leas there will be something good coming out of the evening. Truthfully speaking, she was rather uncertain around people as of late - perhaps it was the hormones, or perhaps it was the lingering sense of paranoia and dread, every time she would glance at Helen, that soured her, usually chipper, mood. But, it was a wedding, and so her face remained contorted into a… neutral, if not ecstatic, expression. “Too many, indeed. It seems like the only thing that has happened since we ave arrived in Bellinzona is just one tragedy atop another.”

She was not yet present when the first chaos erupted - when the explosions happened, she was on her way to Switzerland, and she had just missed the tragedy. She had arrived in the midst of people recovering from the shock of it, when another shock came in form of the conspirator’s identity - and his execution. Afterwards, they seemed to be happy and calm for a while, but even the sweetness of the Spring festival was brutalised with loss and death - and revelations that shook the very foundations of the Earth. Adelaide exhaled a soft sigh, before offering the princess a petite smile. “Well, I do not think you have to worry about it. If I am not mistaken, you are marrying into Italy, yes?” She asked with a gentle smile, then nodded at the princess’ question. “Yes, that is the general idea.” At this point, it was no longer a choice, but rather a necessity - or her child would forever be proclaimed as bastard. “Have you set the date for your wedding yet, your highness?”

there was a strange undercurrent to this wedding celebration, of that Isabeau was certain. she could feel it and as the other woman spoke, her head inclined in agreement. the tragedies indeed had seemed to stack atop each other, so much so that isabeau had wondered if it was worth it to remain in switzerland. if her eldest brother were not so inept, she might have been tempted to do so, but she saw more opportunity than most when it came to the french crown. besides, at this point, few knew what home would be for her; perhaps she would marry the bastard of germany while in switzerland, much to her current displeasure. “indeed. perhaps we might be better off at home now than we would be here, just waiting for the next occurrence.”

the first attack, the explosions had been difficult for her to bear and there were still some nights when Isabeau thought she might have died, woken up with her shift clinging to her skin from sweat, from the fear. but now was not the time to think of such things and isabeau’s focus turned back to Adelaide. “germany, actually,” she responded to the other woman’s question with a placid expression and tone, keeping the annoyance at marrying a bastard out of her voice as best she could. “shall it be soon then?” she lifted her goblet back to her lips and took a long pull before speaking once more. “i have not. i believe the king francis still needs to speak with the king of germany about some details.” women rarely held their own lands after marriage and isabeau knew that francis would not want her own holdings to fall to germany. “but it seems likely it will occur here, at any rate. rather convenient, i suppose.”

[isabeaudevalois]

duchessfriederike‌:

Friedi’s lips pursed at the mention of an argument between Isabeau and her brother. She had so hoped that when they got to know one another, they would be able to come to some sort of understanding, even if the engagement was not what they would have chosen for themselves. They were in the same boat, but if there was comfort to be found in one another, the pair seemed yet to see it. “I am sorry to hear that. And I am sorry on my brother’s behalf. It would seem that he is still reluctant to give up his freedoms.” Her dark eyes found Isabeau’s and she reached to take her hand. “I hope you will accept my condolences.” 

Despite her solemn demeanour, the jest brought a laugh out of Friedi, and she shook her head. “There is no risk of that, my dear. I promise you it is stinger free, but I hope you like honey.” It had always been one of her favourite treats, both for the taste and the name. “Of course. I will have it sent to you. Or perhaps my younger sister will know. Dot enjoys baking, for some strange reason.” 

she saw the pursing of the lips, but isabeau did not wish to delve deeper into the argument between ferdinand and herself. already she found the small slivers of hope in her chest, the hope that this marriage would be better than the previous three, dissipating. the disappointment was hard to bear. “he sees what he wants to; it would be better for him if he believes me to be snobbish and arrogant and everything he dislikes than if he were to take the time to learn that i am not.” she squeezed friedi’s hand and nodded. “i appreciate that very much. it has been so very hard to bear.”

lips curved upwards. “i have always enjoyed honey,” she remarked. “not enough to keep bees myself, of course.” such a plebeian task. “i have gotten to know her in recent weeks. she is very kind.” isabeau was not certain what to think of dot, if the other woman was naïve or simply sheltered in a way that she herself had never been. but she appreciated her company all the same. “but you mean to tell me she bakes herself? with her own hands?” the madame royale’s eyebrows rose at the knowledge.

[isabeaudevalois]

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bonus points + 2

[isabeaudevalois]

duchessfriederike‌:

Friedi had taken rather a quick liking to Isabeau, and by now, certainly classed her as a friend. She had nursed hopes that Ferdinand would change his views on the prospect of a union, though her last conversation with her brother had certainly put a dampener on that. Isabeau deserved happiness, but so did Ferdinand, and whilst neither had picked this match, she still hung on to the wish that they would reconcile themselves with it, and manage to find a way to take comfort in each other rather than repeat the cycle of poor marriages she had grown so accustomed to. 

“Please, I am happy to have you,” she waved away the other’s thanks, though her smile slipped a little as she looked at her. “How are you?” The inflection in her voice made her intentions obvious. Death did not escape France, and though she was in the midst of planning a joyous event, she had not forgotten the tragedies of a few short weeks ago. “Try the bienenstich. It means bee sting.” 

though they were to be sisters one day – if what francis and king maximillian had planned ever came to fruition – isabeau liked friedi regardless of that. she only hoped that they could continue their friendship if the two of them were not to engage in matrimony. but now was not the time for such thoughts and her lips curved upwards into a wide and genuine smile. “i am as well as can be expected,” she answered, her head inclining. “it has been a difficult few weeks. your brother and i quarreled quite badly just before the springtime festival and then jacques…” she paused, taking a moment to exhale, her breath shaky. “i will be happy to feel safe once more.”

eyebrows lifted and her lips twitched at the corners at the name. “i can only hope it won’t sting me,” she teased, the words feeling ashen in her mouth, even as she forced the smile onto her face. it certainly looked good, however, and she reached for a small piece, her back remaining straight. after taking a bite, isabeau’s eyes lit up. “i must have the recipe to give to my chef at home.”

[isabeaudevalois]

jagellicn‌:

This was a nightmare. It was not like Adelaide had anything against weddings per se, but being unable to take as much as a sip of wine was the thing that irked her the most ( damn her stupidity and damn Tomas as well ). But, the deed was done and now she had to suffer though the consequences of it. Fortunately enough for her, the wedding was not as dull as it could have been, so her desire for wine dwindled down by the minute, as did her initial distaste of mingling with so many unknown people, without having as much as a drop of wine in her system.

Still, to avoid suspicion and detection, Adda had been nursing a goblet of wine in her hands, pretending to take a sip every now and then, dark eyes browsing through the room - she watched over her family from afar, watched over Helen as well ( more accurately said, she kept a very sharp eye out for her, and her movements - and the people she had spoken to ). She had just been glaring holes into the new Polish princess, when a soft voice spoke somewhere close to her and Adelaide’s own expression softened, as she glance landed upon a gentle looking blonde; the madame royale of France. “Yes, yes it is. I hope it will stay beautiful as well.” She chirped, a petite smile blooming on her lips. “How are you enjoying it so far?”

perhaps if she spoke kindly, thought of that which was positive instead of that which was not, she might forget about the troubles that had befallen her. isabeau de valois had always picked herself back up when pushed down, had stood tall and straight, her back like an obelisk of marble when in public. and yet, the death of her nephew and the lingering in switzerland had created an unease she was not comfortable sharing – both personal and her worry for the state of france. the wedding, it appeared, would be the perfect place to mingle, to speak and be charming to others without worrying about what underhanded plot they might have hovering in the recesses of their minds.

the princess of poland was one such individual and isabeau had heard of her impending marriage to the brother of king alonso. lips curved upwards as they spoke and her own expression remained placid and gentle. “too many events have been marred by tragedy,” she agreed, her lips thinning as she recalled how lifeless her nephew had looked, how pale his skin had become, nearly waxen. she shook her head briefly to remove the thoughts from her mind. “it is certainly a lovely event,” she remarked, her head inclining with a smile. “perhaps not what i might wish for in a wedding of my own, but it seemed to fit well with the customs of the groom.” she exhaled briefly. “you are to be married soon as well, i understand?” she inquired.

[isabeaudevalois]

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[isabeaudevalois]

location: the german/ottoman wedding featuring: @jagellicn​

it was the first of what isabeau expected would be several weddings yet to come -- perhaps including her own -- and while she was quite happy for her friend, the french princess stood with a goblet of wine in her hand away from most of the merriment. she supposed it was rude not to mingle with the other guests, but she had grown tired of the questions regarding her own wedding. the dress she wore was a dark lilac, muted so as not to be insulting given the fact that her nephew had died only weeks beforehand. and yet he was not a child, a sibling, or a parent so she was not required to wear black to an event as auspicious as a wedding.

with a twist of her lips, isabeau began to move through the crowd of people, taking a sip of her wine and inclining her head to those who acknowledged her station. she paused upon seeing the fact of one she’d yet to become acquainted with, and her back straightened. “a beautiful day for a wedding, is it not?”

[isabeaudevalois]

duchessfriederike‌:

@isabeaudevalois

Of all of those Friedi had met in Switzerland, it was Isabeau she liked best. The last time they had spoken, it had been of the prospect of the Madame Royale’s own marriage plans, but things had changed rapidly, and now it was Friederike’s own wedding that was just around the corner. So much had changed in such a short space of time that she hardly felt like the same person she had been when they had first met, but she still greeted the French woman with the same warm smile and an affectionate clasp of her hands. 

“Thank you for joining me, Isabeau,” she said, releasing her hands to gesture to her to take a seat. “I had some German desserts brought here today, seeing as you were kind enough to share your French ones with me last time we met.”

she had not expected to care for her betrothed -- and in recent days, that was certainly proving true given his behavior -- but his sisters were perfectly lovely. isabeau rather liked dot and eleonora, but friedi was the one she had bonded closest with and though she was thankful her friend would be married soon, she found she would rather miss her when they were all parted. she had accepted the other woman’s  invitation quite quickly and she reached over to press two kisses to friedi’s cheeks before she sat down.

“thank you for inviting me,” she responded, lips quirking at the corners. “i know how busy you are, but it warms my heart that we are able to spend time together before your wedding.” the smile was genuine and she looked at the table with astonishment in her eyes “i look forward to trying them. which would you say are your favorites?”