aeternum vale

kismet dudley. maid of honour to princess elizabeth. exclusive for bloodydayshq.

[kismctt]

kismet dudley , MAID OF HONOUR. | exclusive blog for bloodydayshq.  written by sunny. ( they/them )

intro. threads. musings.

[beauregared]

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡    . . .    kismet   dudley    (    @kismctt    )    𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞    . . .    knot   garden   ,   hampton   court    .

the  paleness  of  his  flesh  glowed  with  the  last  vestiges  of  warmth  as  winter  frost  nipped  at  their  heels,  the  trimmed  hedges  of  knot  garden  providing  an  endless  labyrinth  in  which  he  was  the  hunter  and  she  was  the  elusive  white  fawn  ─  golden - haired  and  tanned,  he  was  helios  in  pursuit  of  selene,  moon - faced  and  shy  as  she  darted  through  the  rows  of  towering  greenery  to  escape  her  company  after  he  had  slipped  a  note  into  her  soft  hands  as  his  group  of  boisterous  young  lords  passed  her  circle  of  tittering  maidens,  exchanging  nods  and  smiles  and  gentle  teases  until  duty  had  called  them  back  to  their  respective  masters.  foolishly,  he  had  waited  for  her  dark  eyes,  so  compelling  in  their  depths,  to  peer  from  behind  a  potted  plant  yet  she  had  been  too  quick  for  him  to  catch  at  first  sight,  leading  him  further  into  the  knotted  design  of  the  gardens  until  they  came  to  the  bench  that  he  had  seen  her  weep  upon  some  eight  weeks  prior,  salty  tears  glistening  down  her  cheeks  as  he  had  intruded  on  her  privacy.  beauregard  had  not  meant  to  make  his  presence  known,  watching  in  admiration  from  afar  as  kismet  dudley  entered  court  holding  onto  the  skirts  of  the  princess  elizabeth.  he  had  been  content  in  writing  endless  letters  devoted  to  just  her  features  and  the  sound  that  her  laugh  made  in  the  hallways  of  hampton,  like  bell  chimes  in  the  wind,  never  to  be  sent  to  the  recipient  of  his  adoration  but  kept  in  the  drawers  of  his  desk,  multiplying  like  parchment  rabbits  but  he  had  been  compelled  to  approach  at  the  sight  of  her  distress,  falling  to  his  knees  and  begging  her  to  share  her  sorrows  with  him.

looking  back,  he  had  been  surprised  she  had  not  just  kicked  him  aside  for  his  sheer  impertinence  but  had  instead  shared  her  woes,  spilling  words  and  tears  into  his  offered  kerchief.  their  meetings  had  grown  more  frequent  following  that,  her  gaze  meeting  with  his  own  across  a  room  or  during  sunday  service,  and  soon  after,  she  had  dared  to  touch,  to  kiss,  to  pick  at  his  cheeks  and  lips  and  neck  until  he  was  squirming  in  his  seat,  a  servant  to  her  explorations  ─  beauregard  had  been  good,  patient,  serving  her  to  the  best  of  his  ability  with  his  fists  clenched  beside  his  thighs  until  she  entreated  him  to  touch  as  well.  even  then,  he  had  not  pressured  her  into  satisfying  his  desires,  going  at  her  pace  and  sending  her  off  first,  red  cheeks  and  swollen  lips,  while  he  took  himself  into  hand,  biting  down  whatever  she  deigned  to  leave  behind  (  be  it  a  glove  or  an  embroidered  kerchief  or  a  scarf  )  to  muffle  his  sounds  of  pleasure.

he  was  left  feeling  like  a  lecher,  undeserving  of  her  goodness  and  in  constant  need  of  bettering  himself,  yet  he  was  drawn  to  her  like  a  moth  to  the  fire,  lengthy  gait  bringing  him  closer  as  he  cupped  her  face  between  his  palms,  pressing  a  kiss  to  both  corners  of  her  mouth  in  greeting.  ❝  darling  one  ...  my  light  in  the  darkness  evening  ...  you  gave  me  quite  a  chase.  ❞  the  words  were  panted  against  her  cheeks,  his  lips  busy  pressing  mindless,  hungry  little  kisses  to  the  span  of  her  face  as  he  spoke.  greedily,  his  eyes  took  in  her  appearance,  the  delight  in  her  eyes  but  also  the  exhaustion  beneath,  gathering  like  the  rings  of  saturn.  ❝  do  not  strike  me  for  my  honesty  but  you  look  tired  ...  is  the  princess  still  determined  to  overwork  you  as  though  you  are  a  peasant  in  the  fields  and  not  lady  dudley  of  kenilworth  ?  tell  me,  tell  me  so  that  i  might  think  of  ways  to  make  you  laugh  and  chase  the  tensions  from  your  limbs.  ❞  his  hands  moved  down  from  cupping  her  cheeks  to  travel  to  her  shoulders,  squeezing  gently  at  her  arms  as  their  foreheads  rested  against  each  other,  breaths  intermingling.

[kismctt]

in   the   midst   of   her   ousting   from   elizabeth's   favor,   kismet   had   certainly   not   foreseen   the   arrival   of   an   admirer,   she   was   far   too   accustomed   to   remaining   in   the   shadows   -   any   other   suitor's   attention   was   fleeting.   older   men   who   sought   her   out   in   hopes   of   garnering   any   sense   of   duty   to   robert,   or   to   have   a   little   bird   in   elizabeth's   chambers   as   cecil   had   attempted   -   they   all   passed   like   the   summer   breeze,   leaving   her   restless   and   a   bit   more   tender   around   the   edges   of   her   heart.   even   william's   attention   upon   her   as   of   late   had   felt   like   a   passing   fancy,   as   if   he   needed   a   stirring   in   his   soul   for   his   writing,   and   kismet   remained   half   certain   that   he'd   be   gone   on   the   wind   once   it   was   completed   and   society   lauded   him   further.    beauregard   felt   different,   he'd   caught   her   in   a   moment   of   weakness,   with   ruddy   cheeks   and   a   snotty   nose   that   she   knew   was   far   from   the   visage   of   a   beautiful   woman   struck   by   a   bit   of   melancholy.   she   had   rather   given   the   illusion   of   a   petulant   child   that   was   weeping   over   something   rather   silly,   regardless,   he   had   thrown   himself   to   his   knees   before   her   and   pledged   to   listen   to   every   word   that   she   whispered   to   him.   he'd   remained   by   her   side   wiping   her   stained   cheeks   with   his   kerchief   till   she   was   laughing,   with   a   faint   half   smile   pointed   in   his   direction,   returning   her   to   her   chambers   with   his   kerchief   still   pressed   into   her   palm. 

when   morning   had   arrived,   kismet   had   not   been   expecting   the   little   notes   to   begin   pouring   in   from   beau,   inquiring   about   her   well   being   and   the   dreams   that   she   had   - they   had   all   been   full   of   him   with   his   sunkissed   curls   and   frighteningly   beautiful   eyes. the   passing   weeks   had   seemed   to   flown   by,   full   of   walks   in   the   gardens   and   long   discussions   on   dreams,   ambitions,   fears   and   desires.   when   they   parted   ways,   beau   did   not   demand   any   unsightly   things   from   her,   instead   always   a   token   of   her   favor,   her   affection   in   the   form   of   a   glove,   or   embroidered   hanky,   the   hairpin   from   her   own   locks   that   she   gently   tucked   into   his   own   blonde   strands.   he   endeared   himself   to   her   heart   seamlessly,   till   he   consumed   nearly   every   thought   of   hers,   and   she   found   her   days   no   longer   to   be   full   of   frequent   bouts   of   melancholy   but   rather   girlish   laughter   with   warm   smiles.   soon   enough,   kismet   had   dared   to   cross   the   boundary   that   laid   between   them,   pecks   of   his   flushed   cheeks   shifted   into   the   corner   of   his   grins   into   the   plump   press   of   his   lips.   walks   shifted   into   clandestine   chases   throughout   the   gardens,   her   heart   thudding   rapidly   against   her   ribcage   as   she   playfully   ran   from   him   until   the   grove   of   trees   and   bushes   hid   them   entirely   from   view.   only   then   did   kismet   allow   herself   to   fall   into   his   arms,   arms   tangling   behind   his   neck   as   he   lavished   her   with   compliments   and   kisses   alike. 

"   must   we   speak   of   the   world   outside   these   hedges,   beloved?   it   matters   little   what   burdens   i   may   carry,   all   i   wish   is   to   bask   in   the   glow   of   your   goodness   and   pure   heart,   please,"   she   pleaded   gently,   tugging   at   the   base   of   his   head   so   that   he   may   duck   forward   enough   for   her   to   steal   yet   another   kiss.   "   if   you   wish   me   to   laugh   and   chase   away   the   tensions   that   plague   me,   perhaps   you   whisper   of   the   adventures   you   have   had   in   my   absense   -   i   want   to   know   every   moment   of   yours   that   i   have   missed,   so   that   i   may   fill   your   memory   back   with   fresh   laughter,"   her   voice   dropped   lower,   a   breath   of   insecurity   slipping   between   the   words.   "   so   that   you   may   miss   me   when   we   are   parted,   the   way   that   i   miss   you,   my   helios."

[kismctt]

closed starter for @semperanneboleyn !

the night remained young, despite the ever passing hours that continued onward once the pageant had finished. kismet had absorbed every moment of it, drinking in the performances and beauty of the women as if it was a goblet of wine and she desired to be thoroughly intoxicated, watching eagerly from the sides of the makeshift stage with wide eyes and a hidden grin. now, she fluttered about the company as she if was a tiny bird, dancing through the throngs of people before plucking another goblet full of wine to indulge in, till her cheeks were flushed vividly from the mixture of drink and dance. still, she sought out her helios, unable to find the golden tressed man amongst all the others at the present, a tease as if he was the rabbit and she was the hunter now, a shift in position that kismet was far too giddy to acknowledge at the present moment. her attention is drawn to something that catches the light on the ground before her, curiousity winning as she crouched down to pick up an ornate piece of jewelry and a peacock feather that had laid beside it. with a frown, kismet glanced around to look for the woman who may have dropped such a priceless heirloom, spotting the back of a woman, unable to see her face. " excuse me, my lady," she called out softly, hurrying forward to catch up to the woman. " i believe you dropped this." while she turned kismet continued to talk, her lips running while her mind began to freeze as the woman revealed herself to be the dowager queen, anne boleyn. " i do apologize for interrupting, your grace. i simply did not wish for you to lose such a beautiful piece," she said quickly, ducking her head as nervously curtsied. 

[kismctt]

closed event starter for jane ! @thladyofshalott

the night was far more lively than anything else kismet had experienced yet, full of beautiful scenery painted and dancing that nearly made her legs ache from how frequently she had already spun amongst the other bodies. struck by a spell of breathless giddiness, kismet had pulled herself from the festivities to seek out more wine and perhaps a moment to sit and rest her body, eyes instinctively scoping the mass of people for a particular man. however, her eyes landed on her beloved jane instead - the woman looked akin to a painting hung on the wall with the way that her fabric beautifully sat on her frame. while jane may believe at times that she sat in the corners, modest and to be forgotten due to her married nature ( and absent husband ) , kismet had only ever been able to see her as a shining visage to reach for. 

with a laugh, kismet wrapped both arms around jane once she had approached, enveloping her in her arms tightly. " sweet hestia," she teased, speaking softly in her ear. " you stray so far from your home by the hearth, or perhaps you may seek to inspire a sense of family amongst the ladies and lords dancing?" her eyebrow raised as she took a step back, shifting so that she could stand beside her instead, entwining her arm with her cousin's and resting her head against her shoulder. there was a sense of comfort to be taken in the presence of her family, as if it stirred something within kismet. " your song was beautiful, truly, jane. "

[stingrayextraordinaire]

Greek Mythology Moodboards // Selene

Perhaps that is your binding curse: you can only be seen at night. They will compare you to the sun, but it could never shine as bright.

[kismctt]

𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙 |  kismet dudley as selene ' goddess of the moon '.

while there is very little record of kismet dudley's prior her arrival to court, it was dutifully noted that she attended the king's pagent as a maid of honor with the princess elisabeth's household by the famous historian author xandra murray in the novel that she wrote regarding the elusive, tender household of the tudor princess. the youngest dudley was dressed in thin, silver silks that were noted to leave the woman in goosebumps that were rectified by many sips from her goblet of wine ( referenced in the letter she wrote to her daughter years later, when sending blessings for helena to enjoy a spectacular night as she once had ). her shoulders were left bare in a risque fashion for the times, neckline dipping low enough to accent the plumpness of her breasts, with hair that was loosely braided in a crown around her head, woven through with tiny pearls and tinsels to echo the goddess of the moon that she portrayed, selene. in a footnote, murray mentioned that after the performance ( where kismet danced sensually across the stage in lieu of a chariot to pull the moon ) she was noted to sneak off from her mistresses' attendance with a young fellow dressed in a similar fashion as helios. it is rumored that the sash worn by beauregard parr kept in the parr-seymour archives was stitched by hand by the youngest dudley, but there is no definite evidence of such.

[kismctt]

the return of her family to hampton meant that kismet was far more jovial in the way that she held herself again, doting incessantly on her good sister and basking in the allowance of being her elder brother's shadow once more. yet, despite the shift in her schedule, kismet had devoted herself fiercely to the task of finishing the book that lady de limeuil had allowed her to borrow in an act of good faith. she devoured every word of it, reading till her candle burned too low or her eyes began to sting from the exertion upon them. after a few days, kismet had finished it in it's entirety, allowing her the excuse to seek out helene under the pretense of returning the borrow item, and certainly not because kismet desired to sneak another view of the beautiful woman. kismet would never deign to stoop as low as a foolish bird with a crush, peeking corners and bushes in the hopes of catching sight of the vision that had come from france's shores, to grace hampton with a stunning smile and breath taking sort of laugh. 

" lady helene," kismet greeted, having waited till she saw the other woman alone from the other ladies in waiting that attended catherine to approach her. there's a hint of comfortable familiarity that curls around her tongue, the faintest tint of pink to her cheeks as she ducked her head in polite greeting to the other woman. " i seek to return the novel that you bestowed upon me," in her hands was delicately clutched the aforementioned book, outstretched to be returned to the other. " please forgive me for not being swifter with my return, i was unable to help myself from rereading the last short story again."

closed starter for @thlachesis !

[bdwilliamshakes]

"A girl of ancient Athens - a name, I have found attractive in my recent endeavours." In some cases, William was a lavish, generous man; a worshipper, ever ready with a votive offering. He busied his mind now in devising Kismet gifts, the most delicate; ones such as only a woman, or ardent man, could have imagined. He would fasten no bracelet on her ivory arm, however pretty such a trinket would be - his favour was to pledge his very honour, and to pay in affection. Under these circumstances, how could a man build acceptance of his sweet words as favourable symptoms of earnest affection? Kismet possessed an incapacity to be swayed by sordid considerations - he could not venture, to believe the transaction of sweetness advanced him a single step. "Kismet, you have changed! You would have never regarded me with such coarseness in years past; lest this be a development of your skills as a courtier, and a well-deployed tactic to seize the attentions of a man you desire. If this is your endeavour, I compliment you on your success." 

His passion for her beauty, his appreciation of Kismet's foibles was clearsighted from his general language; for most men, it would be a chance look, or at the best, as evinced by the carrot haired man sharing his Christian name the token of mere a mere momentary impression. Her kin possessed a good deal of benevolence, but William believed she owned a portion better and larger. He understood presently that cheerfully and habitually, a character of active of good. "Shall a better time for us to enjoy ourselves present itself, then now? Your watchful mistress remains; but your faithful guard dog, your brother, has scurried after the Tudor faction - you are bound now, only to your own wishes." William paid her again by showering about her his bright spirits and untempered tongue; with even more affluence than his taunting love wont. If it were to be discovered Kismet wished to put her desires to work, William planned, in recompense, to aid her pleasurable recreations. "I shall have you undressed with another venture - perhaps I can entreat you, into a dress rehersal for my newest work? Regardless, I shall resire to the occassion; tell me, how best shall I win a kiss? A game? Or will you allow me to speak at length, with the full command of my sweetness and passions, 'til you shall beg me for a kiss, to know me all the better." 

[kismctt]

kismet wondered if his playful jests held any true merit, had she truly changed in the years since they last met? it certainly felt far from it as of late, still too quiet, too young, too naïve, too many things that others seemed to look down on her for. perhaps william spoke an ounce of truth, for she'd grown a bit more coarse in the past few months, a defensive layer that had formed without her ever noticing. it was a cruel thing to wear around the other man, when he had been nothing less of a kind man to her, a charming sugar coated tongue that had whispered teasing compliments till her face bled red and he laughed as if she was the most interesting game in the world to him at that moment. it had haunted her dreams for several months after she had returned home from court, giggling to herself as she replayed every word he had said, but like most affairs of her heart it had been fleeting - gone on the next spring breeze, doomed to unravel as no letter arrived calling upon her. " you seek to fool me with guilt, as if it is only i, who has grown in your absence. as if you do not boast the sheen and pride of a man of court, himself. william, i fear that next time we meet i shall not know you from the plump bird that adorns the table in the king's feasts," she teased with a grin. 

the woman wondered if it was morally corrupt to indulge in the attention that william lavished on her, to revel in every syallbe that dropped from his lips, to allow such decadence into her thoughts when her own mistress declared otherwise. yet, kismet found that she cared little in this instance for any notion that may have sent her scurrying back to her own chambers, to a cold, empty bed, where she'd lay awake again struck with a terrible lonlieness. william was a bright, shining light and she allowed herself to be drawn into his orbit, leaning ever closer to him over the arm of the small couch that she sat upon, eyes watching fondly as the dying firelight made his face seem to glow. " what sort of man must you be to fear the mighty jaw of a simple watchdog? tell me, you are so not frightened of amy's sweet robin, not when you write so vividly of forbidden love triumphing," her hand stretched to bridge the distance between them, cupping tenderly his cheek as if he was made of a delicate glass. " i imagine a thousand wishes, but they shall all pale in comparsion to the joy that your company brings me now." her thumb traced the edge of his nose absentmindedly, dark eyes mapping out the lines of his face with a faint quirk of her lips, a tease, a challenge all in one was kismet in this moment. with a gentle pull of her hand, she tugged william closer to her, raising said hand to brush a falling strand of hair from his forehead. " there is little need for such elaborate attempts to win my attention, though i shall gladly listen to your newest story for hours endlessly. no, william, i desire no coy games from you, for court is full of them and i tire of it all at the moment. please, do not think poorly of me - all i desire is for you to act upon the most desperate wants of your heart."

[kismctt]

the family tree of kismet dudley, past - present - future. *phillipa parr is meant to be phillip parr.

[kismctt]

a page delivered two letters to the chambers of the married dudleys, one addressed for robert and another addressed for his wife, amy. the writing is loopy, clearly written with a careful determination, as if the author had spent hours by candlelight composing these words. the letter is lengthy, taken up a full three pages of parchment, and is filled with minute details of kismet's life in her good sister's absence. below, one may find an excerpt from the letter.  | @robsartd

....

i am writing to plead for your forgiveness, beloved sister of mine, and that you may use your tongue to persuade my brother to not be cross with me as well. i have devoted my time dutifully to the princess, as you instructed me to do so ... amy, i am uncertain the transgression that i dared to take against her. there is little rhyme or reason to her anger with me, yet i feel it as one does a heavy storm cloud! it is constantly haunting and pouring onto my being. every morning, i am sent away to attend to the most vile of tasks that one may think of. i swear, i do not raise objection, nor twist my tongue in complaint, though it weighs on me. every evening, i am called again, to help her undress and haunt the shadows of her chambers till i am sent away once more. the days are horribly, dreadfully long now - with little joy to seek in them. without your presence i cannot help but weep, praying for your swift return to hampton so that i may feel less of an outcast in turbulent waters. perhaps you may supply advice to how i may seek forgiveness from the princess and claim her good graces once more. 

...

your troubled sister, 

kismet. 

[bdwilliamshakes]

@kismctt

location: sexy late night library hang 

  When all was still in her majesty's dominion, when supper was over, and the noisy hours of recreation past;  when darkness had set in, and the quiet lamps of study were lit - when the clamorous bells of church were hushed, there William sat. Reading somewhat late, and feeling that the power to read was leaving him; for soliloquies from incessant minds were losing all sap and significance - gold was withering to leaves before his eyes. William was sorrowing over the loss of passion - til suddenly a quick tripping foot broke past the wooden door frame, and brought its owner, scuttling into the light. Kismet Dudley entreated him with her fairy-like symmetry; unlike the dark, acerbic and swarthy attributes of her brother Robert, her features were plump, sweet, and fair. She was a passionate thing; her face, ever the colour of a coquelicot. Last she had been but a child to William; Kismet had grown in harmony and consistency. In her timid yet earnest character, it could not be denied there was a most exquisite and alluring, fairy charm. 

Women and girls snug by fireplaces, so oft had their hearts and imaginations divorced from the comforts surrounding their person; forced to contend with the wildest storms, to dare stress of a younger maiden, to linger by lonely gates - waiting or listening to hear the son, the husband, the father coming to their side. Kismet seemed afflicted by no filial piety; she seated herself on a low couch, rested her cheek and her hand, and thought, and still was mute. She half turned when William's step was heard; their eyes met a moment, but with slight contact. Kismet remained in her place; William threw himself into a seat beside her. He found a great deal he wished to say to her; an inexhaustible fund of discourse, of sweetness - her tongue rested, her eyes reluctant to raise their lids so smooth, so full fringed. "Come, let us not be strangers; you once deigned it pleasurable to know me, sweet Hermia. Has her majesty's tutelage robbed you of any desire for company of the opposite?" Kismet was warm, albeit it a little proud; but to be naive and beautiful, is to warrant such attributes - he could fault her not. William half-feared, half-worshiped Elizabeth; he took refuge with Kismet, a nymph of easier moods. "All those highly recommended by the King have departed - we cast offs, remanning to populate the court. How shall we best occupy ourselves? A night swim, perhaps; fear not lately, for I am well equipped to gift your air with lungs from my lips, should you find yourself in danger." 

[kismctt]

what a fickle thing sleep had been as of late, mind running restlessly with little reprieve, her hand already ached from the arduous task of writing at length to her brother and wife. a self assigned task to inform them of the comings and goings of court in their brief absence, as well as whining childishly to amy about how she was envious that she was not able to travel with them. relieved of her duties till the sun rose once more, kismet found herself in the library, perhaps hoping that being surrounded by the novels would provide her wisdom by osmosis alone. her eyes caught on the sight on another lost soul, dark eyes that seemed to peer inside of her, as if she was laid bare beneath a gaze that spoke of fresh soil warmed beneath the rays. william had always been far too capable of unsettling kismet, not in the sense of un-comfortability, but as if he never believed any honeyed lies she spoke, the sense of knowing what laid behind her eyes despite the gentle quietness she carried. it'd been a few years since they last spoke, though kismet listened fondly to the kernels she overhead of his plays, yet she does not hasten herself to his side, for she remained uncertain if he'd grown too bright for her company. or perhaps he too sought out the comfort of silence, escaping for a moment from his own perilous mind. 

her feet carried her to a low couch, tucking herself into the corner of it as she gazed into the slowly dimming fireplace, allowing her mind to set itself adrift once more. the pressure of him sitting beside her gathered her attention lightly, faintly curious eyes that watched him as if waiting for him to speak first, a single raise of a brow at his presence. " hermia?" she asked, amusement finding home on her features as she continued to rest her cheek on her hand, eyes regarding him more fully. william had grown more handsome in their time apart, the decadency of a poet in court fit well on his figure, far from pauper and fool. " what a pity, i nearly spoke of missing you. consider me a woman scorned, that you do not recall my name, william," her tongue drew out the syllables of his name, claiming it in her own right. as if it was a gift that she sought to bestow on him. a quirk of her lips, a light giggle that falls from her, mood mildly restored as he granted her an escape from the malice that taunted her. " while the king and his men are away, the outcasts may play?" she teased, a coyness present in her tone. " it is far too chilling for a night swim, perhaps you may try a different way to steal a kiss, my sweet lord."

[princessedevalois]

@kismctt, hampton court gardens

The season was turning cold, weeks dragging on, and Elisabeth could not help but feel unhappy. She had hoped that any dealings would be completed, and that she would be returned to France by now, but instead found herself remaining at the English court, which seemed upended in confusion. The princess, for her part, felt unnerved by the uncertainty which seemed to grip the courtiers. Some had vanished from her sight several days since, and there was no denying that she felt as though she were kept in the dark, something hidden from her.

The air was brisk and yet she felt compelled to walk the gardens, despite the waning life of its blooms, if only for some change in scenery. She had not anticipated to encounter anyone else, but found herself confronted with a noble lady who she recognized, after a few moments' pause, as one of the Princess Elizabeth's ladies whom she had met when invited to visit the royal chambers. "Lady Dudley, is it not?" Her tone was warm, a genuineness to it. "Forgive me, I expected the gardens to be well-abandoned. But even on a chilled day such as this, at least there is sun, so I suppose any opportunity to lay claim to it must be taken." She paused, unable to gauge if she had disturbed Kismet in the midst of something. "Would you like to join me as I walk? Or would you prefer to remain without company?"

[kismctt]

the youngest dudley had been sent away yet again after helping the princess get ready in the morning, nothing but a cold shoulder as the other ladies tittered as kismet quickly left the rooms. her head ducked as she hesitated in the hallway, for there was no amy to comfort her nor a robin to distract her currently, both far away in dover. for a moment, kismet felt adrift in a sea of emotions that threatened to overwhelm and drown her beneath them, tears pricked incessantly at the corners of her eyes and she knew that she could not cry within this corridor. swiftly, kismet had headed for the gardens, as if the harsh wintery air may save her from further ridicule for being caught crying like a child. graciously, they were empty and she was able to sit herself on a bench, thick tears rolling down her cheeks as the woman quietly sobbed. 

kismet wiped her nose with the inside seam of her sleeve, making note to remember to wash it deeply later so that it may not stain and remind her of this tiny bit of weakness. the call of her name had her hastening to wipe her flushed, ruined cheeks before she raised her head to catch a glimpse of princess elizabeth, the french woman who'd she seen in passing a few times previously. kismet could not help but feel foolish, with teary eyes, and a trembling lip that she steadied with a tight smile. " please, i may ask for your forgiveness for disturbing your walk with my presence, my lady." her voice remained steady, as kismet rose from her seat, swiping discretely at her eyes once more. " i shall keep you company, it is much too cold to be walking alone, my lady. if you were to slip, no one shall find you before you injured yourself," she teased ever lightly. 

[thunyielding]

With each day a marvel of challenges and societal graces, Elizabeth rarely found a private moment to thus enjoy with her inner circle of well-bred ladies. However, though one may have complained at this lack of solitude or isolation, Elizabeth had found it quite the breath of air needed to swallow the melancholy that had plagued her since the news of Lady Dudley’s quickening. So it did not help then, that she found herself more than often with either the lady who had brought her the intrigue in the first place or the assailant’s sister-in-law and by Elizabeth’s own reckoning, her love’s younger sister. For most of her career beneath the Princess and from within her prestigious household, Kismet Dudley had been offered and presented with luxuries and favouritism that the Princess could not give directly to the Earl himself. She was given leave whenever she wanted, or made to complete such tasks that heightened her name before other wanting courtiers. But with the fall from grace, Kismet had been pushed aside for one of the first times. 

So far, Elizabeth had deemed it necessary that Kismet was kept from her audience till the very first and last hours of the day — when not taking buckets of hot water to her linen lined bathtub or preparing the ointment that another pressed into her skin, Kismet was kept apart from her Royal Highness. This unfortunate turn of events would ripple onto her family, that was, if the distance was kept within renewal, and though some took it upon themselves to tread openly onto the past roles Kismet had once boasted off, some mentioned her in whispers. Why was it that Kismet Dudley had suddenly fallen so far? Had she not been, alongside Elizabeth’s childhood companion Meg Welles, but a favourite of her flock? 

As the day drew into night, Elizabeth returned to her rooms where the other maids began the usual routine of undress. As nimble fingers unwound the ties that kept her sleeves taut and her bodice tight, Elizabeth cast her stare around the room to find the shadow of Kismet. Biting back a hot-headed hiss of temptation, the Princess and presently the Lady Regent, lifted a hand to pause her girls before banishing all but Kismet from her rooms, the private audience an affair barely ever kept since the night Meg had sought it for herself two months previously. “Unbind my hair,” she commanded, sitting atop her stool before a looking glass, her hands clasped together upon her lap, her eyes unblinking as she watched Kismet through the reflection. “How is it, Kismet, that you are finally beyond your brother’s shadow and yet have nothing to show for it?” She asked, her patience thus worn thin before she removed her sleeves by her own two hands, relieving the pleasure of doing so for anyone else. “I should congratulate you on your family’s good luck…” @kismctt

[kismctt]

it perplexed kismet, the sudden coldness in which elizabeth so often now regarded her with, a far cry from the glory of being one of the princess' favorites maids. gone were the little gifts and teasing reprieves duties, feeding from bess' palm as if she was her pet more than a young woman within her household. the dudley had spent countless hours awake in her bed, wracking her mind for any slight she may have taken against the princess unknowingly, that may have caused such a fall from her grace. her mother's voice was still thick in her ears, whispering that kismet was seemingly always doomed to fall, that she had been nothing more than a ewe in wolf's clothing, attempting to scale to heights that she did not belong to. amy's voice echoed the sentiment, a reminder that diamonds were always expected to fall, kismet's guilt arising in her throat till it made her sick that she may be the cause of her own family's undoing. such sentiment felt more present when amy and robin were called away to dover, leaving kismet alone in the princess' hampton court, alone with her thoughts as elizabeth had taken to sending her away for the entire day as of late, a mercy that felt more like punishment in the moment. the other ladies flocked like squawking birds to fill the vacancies that kismet left behind, turning their backs to her as if they had not weeks before been nipping at heels in hopes of stealing some of the sweet favor that the princess had bestowed upon kismet. 

yet, the youngest dudley had never been privy to her brother's quick temper or her sister's ability to hold her head high against any storm. instead, she had endured this cold breath of winter as she had endured her mother's wrath previously, with a faint smile and eyes that wept only in the solace of her rooms. kismet had always been a tender hearted sort of beast, with head ducked and obedient tongue that knew to not speak unless requested, remaining on the shadows of the room as she ghosted about her duties to the princess that were required this night. like a mouse, kismet froze momentarily at the presence of feline esque eyes that watched her as the rest of the ladies filed out of the room, a few casting cruel looks in kismet's wake, surely to gossip once the doors had shut. at the sharp command of her princess, kismet nodded and moved quickly to take her place behind elizabeth, a spot that she had not been allowed in for a few months now. there was no anger in which kismet regarded this task, gentle hands that worked swiftly to undo the princess' hair, as if she was her sister and kismet still adored her. which she suppose she did, for she longed to be elizabeth's beloved maid once more. the question is sharp, and it pierces kismet in the heart, but she does not let it show on her features. instead, a faint smile as she briefly regarded elizabeth in the looking glass.

" have i not rose to the greatest height that one may desire, your grace? i find myself unable to want for anything in your generous household, or the radiancy of your presence." as elizabeth's hair fell softly, beautifully, around her shoulders. kismet's hand hovered, reaching for the comb beside her. " shall i comb for you tonight, your grace?" there's a tiny pause in her words, nodding head. " i thank you for your kind words, it is a blessing that you keep us in your thoughts while you remain busy with your duties as lady regent. if i may confess, my lady, the halls of hampton have never been full of such jovial spirits than now, granted by your own hand. "

[arthistoryvault]

Domenico Fetti - Sleeping Girl (1620-1622)

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[abjurator]

closed for @kismctt, post the private execution of elizabeth talbot.

When he summons the Lady Dudley to his office, the late hour is entirely intentional. The afternoon sun and its accompanying beams of light filter through the window, casting the room in a warmer pallor than most might associate with that of a man like him. The door is shut behind her. The quill with which he's been doing very little over the last hour is placed aside, to be given further consideration once the conversation he intends to have with her has concluded. When he looks up, it's with a veil of warmth in the draw of his brow, his eyes, the pull of his mouth. An entirely put-upon show, just for her, intending to gentle her into where he needs her to be in order for this to work.

The act of selecting spies is not straightforward in nature in a place like this, where the walls writhe under the hot breath of gossip passed from its attendees' mouths. From the top of the tree to the very roots, the flesh of each apple that falls has a chance to spread sickly-sweet rumors. George has determined that every one in three pieces of chatter has enough merit to call for concern; to determine which of the three is most appropriate to attend to, the right hand with the best-equipped touch must be employed, without risking giving anything of importance up. Maids and younger ladies of the court, alongside servants desperate for even a scrap of something kind in their lives, he finds, are best for this purpose. At his age, he's discovered he can often intimidate them on account of the fact he might remind them of the foreboding shadow of their own fathers, and often all that's needed is a little praise, or a little push.

It's with this in mind that he approaches ⸻ with enough space between them to allow for the existence of warmth without necessitating any actual contact. His voice is gentle, almost cajoling, underwritten with a faint trace of what might be understood as genuine apology. "Lady Dudley; thank you for coming to see me with such short forewarning." She is the sister of Robert Dudley, and while he has little suspicion that the man would involve his own flesh and blood with the contrivances of what his other birds in his niece's household murmur of, George has been surprised before.

Had her palms begun to sweat, when he called for her? Did her heartbeat quicken behind her ribs? Did her mouth grow dry? He searches for these signs now but doesn't prescribe anything to the set of her brow or the color in her cheeks. Not yet. "But there's something I need to speak to you of, which has borne its weight upon me for some time." He gestures to the chair closest to Kismet, a clear instruction for her to sit. George, himself, does not. He looms, instead, the way he had when his own children were young and in need of having one thing or another made clear. "I need you to understand, in no uncertain terms, that what I tell you now must remain between us."

[kismctt]

the youngest dudley was accustomed to the shadows, had found peace and contentment within them, and desired little ambition to shove herself from them like her other siblings may have. the other three remained ambitious, brilliant, and bright, while kismet remained resigned to simply bask in the glory that they claimed for themselves. her arrival into the princess' household had been a surprise, for even the young woman, and while she was not spotlighted more within court - kismet still chose to bask in the glory that was the princess. a shining diamond who's household was perplexing for kismet, uncertain if she may remain within favor or be coldly received for a slight that she could never seem to recall. nonetheless, kismet reveled in the times when she was allowed closely at the princess' side, desiring for that special sort of attention frequently - even if she never voiced it to anyone but herself. 

the request for her presence by the earl of wiltshire is a shock, one that struck a bit of fear within kismet's heart, scrambling to find reason that such a prestigious and important man may have called upon her. even knew of her as more than a passing mention in the mouth when speaking of her elder kin. every step towards his office was with a trembling foot, though kismet held her head high as she had been instructed to since girlhood. cowering and head bowing was meant for asking forgiveness, and she had yet to know of the transgressions she may be accused of. her mind sought to calm herself, certain in it's belief that if she was truly in trouble that robin would've came for her first, or had whispered a warning in her direction. it is with this loftish belief that kismet is able to join george in his office, with a passive face that spoke little of the rapid heartbeat that banged against her ribs. 

" please, my lord. it was little trouble to come at your call, though i must apologize for not hastening my steps so that i may have joined you sooner." head ducked in both submission and respect, well aware of her status beneath him. there's a faint smile on her lips, as if she recognized the bit of warmth that george simulated in this moment. her mind wondered if perhaps bess had promised her duties to him for an afternoon, a foolish notion that is disappeared quickly as he motioned for her to sit. kismet sat quickly, obedient as ever, as she gazed up at george. the way he seemed to loom over her, a giant compared to her small nature, reminded her of her father. the taste in the air lingered of a child scolded, her hands resting in her lap fidgeting slightly nervously. 

" i swear that i shall not tell another soul what tell me, my lord. " she is unable to keep the curious tone out of her voice, it is tucked in between the syllables as she attempted to decipher what he may regard her so highly for. " please, is it my brother? is he alright?"

[jamescecils]

  "Clever girl; beautiful girl. What pledge of loyalty do you wish of me? That I shall not taste you, then tell you later, that I feel different? I will never look at your face, and feel different." In his eyes, she was a glacial prodigy; beautiful, proud, and pre-natural. Kismet was a little proud perhaps, with her naive delicacy and beauty; she squeezed the arm of which she had now obtained full possession - she coaxed and conjured 'til James was obliged to pause, and laugh. Throughout their time, she poured up him most fanciful changes on the theme of love - he was unusually perturbed by a sudden reflex to force bravado to champion veracity in its place. "Will you give me a thousand and one nights to craft my tales? I promise you, you shall not be in want of leisure or pleasure; I will fill your nights with the demonstration of my oral abilities, however you best see fit." His heart smote him - he was stirring up contents, but with a gentle and caring hand. James wished to do her what good he could; Kismet was not a child, whom one should not speak of the truths that exist - yet her goodness, her innocence, was alien to his whole life and views. 

Kismet charged James to prove himself true, ere she would cherish him; he knew not to mark this page in his life with a red cross, or a blackened heart. He would have given him beloved manhood to possess the goodness she ascribed to him; he deserved condign punishment for having half the treasures she believed. "You are a Dudley, true and true - do you know this? How masterfully you evade an answer to my question; do you believe I will be too well acquainted with your rivals, or so inferior, that I shall offer not challenge to their affections? If you are courted by his majesty, dear George Boleyn has already paid every man handsomely in the kingdom, to allow the young King to to feel unrivalled in his romantic pursuits." This bright young creature, a delicate, loving, silky haired thing, moved with expressive, attached eyes on his face - her lips maintaining their precious smile. Kismet was so loving, that one could not but feeling loving towards her. "I jest and I prod, but I come to you now in earnest; how does a man earn the goodness, you afford me now? Pray, how am I not to be eternally ruined, by offers as to take me for what I am? If you were not a sweet angel, I would think of a Machiavellian devil." 

[kismctt]

the whispers of court had been unjust and unkind towards james cecil, for they were a far cry from the charmingly sweet man beside her that endeared her with every word that fell from his lips, the whimsical promises of a well loved life that she had dreamt of since she was but a tiny kit tucked against her mother's skirts. certainly this man was not a rake, with the tenderness that he regarded her with nor the curious awe that she had begun to imagine in his eyes as they stared back at her. " what else may i ask from you, my lord, than what any woman desires from a man? i wish for you to stand guard at the tomb of my benevolent heart that seeks to beat only for you, as i shall remain a steadfast shore for you to lay your anchor within   with a promise that i shall weather any storm to keep you afloat." kismet was not naïve enough to believe that james was without flaw or hardships, it was etched in the miniscule fissures of his fissures, the hints of a life burdened on dutiful shoulders. yet, she did not desire a love that was a puddle - still and tepid, she longed for one that mimicked a river, full of ebbs and flow and the reality of a passionate life. if james was an uncertain current then she would be the bend in the river to bear the rush of it, to reorient them along the path that was meant for them. " allow me to be your most devoted audience for each tale, rapt with a pure attention to hang upon each precious slip of your tongue, my dereworthy heart."

a girlish giggle fell from her lips, grinning mischievously at the notion that the grand king's uncle may have paid off any unwed courtier to remain celibate till his nephew had declared his intent, it seemed far too outlandish to be borne from any reality, not with how handsome and charming their majesty truly was. " perhaps i delight in making you weave through carefully constructed traps to seek out your answers? or perhaps i believe the only monster you may slay for my affections is one that you are quite affectionate, for no other's man words shall rival my dear brother robin's." her lips curved downwards into a frown as he waned onward about her eternal goodness, halting in their steps so that she may turn to face him. " dare not accuse me of evasion once more, you ask how shall you claim my eternal goodness - yet, i find myself consumed with the ever-present urge to claim your heart as my own. does this not make me a selfish sort, undeserving of the sweet angel that you affix me to? how may i possess the love of a man so honest and gallant?" another thoughtful smile followed by bashful smile. " pray, let me name you adonis, as i shall be venus - consumed by a grandiose ache of longing and sinful love. for there is no man i find as captivating as you." in a daring sort of move, kismet stepped closer for a moment, stretching on toes to place a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. 

[jamescecils]

His delight surpassed description. James sought a view to contemplate her charms, and find out the secret of their influence. She possessed a genuine good heart not given to all men nor women; and by way of these combined advantages she believed kindly; she behaved well. He had never felt such strange and contradictory inwards emotions towards another person - desire and admiration, a desire to respect and make lurid remarks, shared his heart between them. "And yet I have found you immune to every plead I have made at your door - do you find pleasure in offering me a residency I may never take?" Kismet was a sensitive and loving woman; to hold her in his company or carry her in his warms was to him a treat. Smart, trim and pert, she eyed James with no fear or shyness then if he had merely been a portrait, instead of a living gentleman. "As we walk, allow me to serve your needs in full; I am a man who seeks to amend his wrongdoings, and the dedication of myself to your pleasure takes the upmost precedence." Her gaze penetrated deep, it subdued the heart, and sent a gush to the stomach.

 Kismet, as a mark of high favour, took his hand; she spoke with an infatuated and perservering dotage, a strange to behold in a person not yet thirty. She was the fairest and gayest present; she must have good blood in her veins, for never was any young lady more perfectly, affably demurring than she. James' look as he spoke vindicated her, he grew hot and coloured. "I would suggest nothing untoward, lest you be open to the avenues I seek to take. But humour me; should I seek you as my own, would I be better to meet my rivals on the battlefield or in the midst of a friendly joust? The answer you award me, shall reveal whether I am to be your friend, or your faithful bed partner." Kismet tendered not a remonstrance nor did she testify a shade of surprise at his remarks; a delicious ravelled plot lay tempting her to sin. "Charge me with any crime but cruelly towards you - I never make an offer I am not wholly ready to fulfil. Do you believe me so cruel? I take no delight in reputation, yet I will at least acknowledge my own, humbly, christians me as a tender lover."

[kismctt]

" perhaps i seek to test your resolve, my lord. if i were to allow you residency in my heart and beside my hearth, the most sacred place a lady may offer. well then i must assure that you shall not leave as soon as the summer draws near, yes?" the words drip from her lips, full of amusement and a bit of gentle reprimand before she may stop herself from speaking. as if his presence and good nature embolden her in ways that she previously had not felt, her heart racing in her chest as a grin appears on her cheeks without her noticing. a slip in her demure act that she so easily had worn since the beginnings of her girlhood, a reveal of the jovial nature that she hid so as to not embarrass her kin on accident. her body shivered at his promise, unable to help herself from briefly imagining james truly indulging in her pleasure, the wicked thoughts that it created which flushed her features. " if you dedicate to my pleasure, then indulge me, my lord. will you recount the grandest of your tales for me? please?" she pleaded, resting her cheek against his arm as she gazed up at him with wide eyes. as if they were daringly closer to lovers which the level of comfort that she granted him as they walked, arms intertwined, steps easily matched with one another. 

kismet took a quiet moment, considering deeply the request that he asked of her, wondering if perhaps she may endear to play further coy games with the lord - yet, she had heard the rumors that he was an experienced lover of sorts, and she hardly desired to lose such a honey tongued man over girlish tricks. her chin lifted to regard him with a quirk of her lips, mirth still heavy in her gaze as it rested upon him. " if i requested that you meet them on battlefield, returning to me only once you were certain that there remained no air in their lungs to question your claim to my heart or bed?" her tone is soft, despite the viciousness that she asked of him, as if it was nothing short of a teasing flirt between courtiers. it was strange, never before had a man captivated her as much as james did now, nearly hanging onto every word that dripped from his delightfully sinful mouth. any edge to her softened beneath them. " i shall care not for any reputation that precedes you, my lord. i shall only worry myself with the tender image you present before me, i swear this to you."