Il sangue non e acqua.

Principe Raniero  di Giuliano "Nero" de' Medici di Firenze|| Twenty-two 

[principexnero-blog]

crownprincejacques:

“Tu me manques” Jacques muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair. He was tired of running around and trying to fix any issues after what had happened in Austria. There seemed to be different levels of success and none of them were exactly pleasant. Realising that someone was close enough to hear him, he silently cursed, before turning his attention back to the other man. He wasn’t sure which language was most appropriate and switched to English, “forgive me, thinking aloud. Are you well?” he asked, as politely as possible. After Austria he was never quite sure what people’s reactions would be to him.

@principexnero

Arms crossed, steps slow, Raniero slowly approached the Frenchman. The situation was uneasy, to say the least.  There were two sides to every coin - would have been a topic less...controversial if it had not been for that fact that France had risked so many lives at once. Calculated their attack meticulously, awaited the perfect moment to strike. But, most likely better than anyone, did Nero understand a son did not always condone their father's actions. A dark brow quipped at the switch from french to english and he reclined his head with a curt smile. “There is no reason to apologize, your highness. All of us are guilty of it, every now and then. I heard it is quite healthy but that may have been just a doctors empty words of comfort. I am quite well, thank you. Are you? The past weeks must have been quite stressful, no?”

[principexnero-blog]

valdemarswdn:

The discussions were carried in French, as Valdemar was not proficient enough in Tuscan to rely on it. In verity, he was able to see this bargain through in ten languages, but he would not chance it. A simple slip in verbal mannerisms, a misstep in lingua, and the Principe might take enough offense to scrap everything. People had great penchant for their languages, or so he’d discovered. On his part, he would not be conceited enough to expect anyone would learn Swedish… whether for a negotiation or a lifetime. Now, why did this boy waylay so? He was all rearguard, all fences to cross and ditches to elude: it was prudent, yes, but at great expenditure. Valdemar considered he might teach him how to entrust, how to depend, even, without losing sight of the gamble for a tidbit second. In his years as king, and over a scattered country at that, he had to ascertain one way to rely on people with constructive blindness.

Valdemar’s foot tapped on the marble floor at regular intervals, his smile broadening just as steadily from the corners. One brow arched as if of its own volition. He bid his time before addressing Raniero, before spelling out any assertion that might hinder the other’s flow. It felt as if this boy, too, became enraptured with his own philosophical discourse. It was no wonder. Did not the greatest thinkers now arise from Florence? Almost as if the province uprooted Christianity and brought Rome back in its pot. This factor was not slighted in his previous decision to pioneer such unlikely treaty. After a while, the other’s words subsided - melted into the principe’s smug grimace, Valdemar conceded with indulgence - and he was free to respond. He forgave this boy many blunders, because he sensed Raniero’s simmering power… as well as the power of potentiality, rife in this room, ready to branch out or wither at their feet.

“That was a… most loquacious series of arguments, I daresay. It almost seems as if you sketched in minutes a contract that should have been tinkered in months. To ratify…”

Valdemar abandoned the sentence, his hand raising between them with widely spread fingers, an embodiment of the halt he meant to instill,

“… videlicet, you desire a deal that would not exclude commerce with others - multifaceted, so to say - endorsed by both Swedish maritime expenses as well as Florentian. Moreover, this deal is perishable and thoroughly void of any hinges, accredits, usual legerdemain. Praeterea… it is reiterated by a third party. Was there anything else?” This final question was not just a rhetorical artifice; it was a genuine attempt to order his own thoughts while he enunciated them. Such logical stratagems were crucial for a man with a soldier’s sense and a philosopher’s largesse with words. His present answer bore a laconic emphasis, but his eyes dawdled along the principe in two mutually opposing ways. One signified they had all the time in the world - the other, that Raniero’s time might just become numbered.

Trust. This, a deal so loosely based on mere profit was more than enough trust already, in the eyes of the Florentine. He might have been young, not as versed in the world with a certainty only a King of the Swedes age could but that did not mean he did not understand that haughtiness could be an irreversible trait to own. There would be a time and a place to charge head first, to dare everything but Raniero was the type to await the perfect moment. That perfect moment of true certainty that rarely offered itself within talks of business. Obtain control, stay on the defense and judge your opponents next move. A rather simplistic ideology, applicable to not only commerce - but war. Turning a blind eye or naivety was certain death, whether that to be taken literally or figuratively. 

 What could have been taken as an insult, an accusation of erraticness, only served Raniero as a compliment. He was well acquainted with market equilibrium. The importance of trading, alliance purely out of convenience for either site. “Your Majesty, you do not seem like a man that wishes to waste his time on vaguely worded promises. This is as clear and as...ah, least bullshitting as it can get. It has been established this deal is one thing only - profit. This is not about taking risks by introducing the people to something never seen before. So why over complicate matters?” The arch of the Florentines brow was unavoidable and not without reason as the King raised his hand to silence the Prince. 

While his words were clear, it was the Swedes body language that expressed more than mere letters arranged to form sensical meanings ever could. Whether the King had opposing conditions or disagreed with what Raniero had to say was out of his hands. Yet, no reason for the boyish, as if to press that he was so much younger than the man facing him, smile to waiver. Florence had nothing to lose. Whether the King accepted the deal or not would make little difference. A shame, given the Medici rarely lived to see a contract pass by. But certainly, nothing dooming for the Florentines. “Correct, your Majesty. This deal is solely based on profit. If you wish to end the deal, there will be no consequences and vice versa. The third party being the Medici, which will receive twenty percent of the agreed upon amount between seller and buyer. Contact between seller and buyer will go through us, just a safety precaution, your Majesty. Trust is a privilege that is too precious to lay out for taking. If said trust is established and we have successfully managed to keep the deal intact, of course, there is little limitations to the upgrades and possibilities the future may hold. We will, in return, lay out the documentation of said process since it is vital that both parties are fully capable of trusting each other. We do not expect what we do not offer.” Raniero found himself mimicking the Kings gestures. The drawn gazes, vague and indifferent yet concealing of any thoughts or opinions. 

“Any more questions, your Majesty?”

[principexnero-blog]

How do you feel about what they call 'the italian vice'

//answered— “It is a matter the Office of the night takes care of. Punishments vary but it is a controversial matter to be discussing. I do not personally care who lays with whom for one reason or another. Few are punished with a harder sentence than what goes beyond a fee and a slap on the wrist. I will not be held accountable for an individuals sins by my God, my priorities lay with the well-being of the people.”

[principexnero-blog]

difirenze:

        To be trapped in a room during an unexpected siege was bad enough, Bianca certainly did not enjoy the overwhelming feeling of helplessness, but the worst part of it all was to be separated from those she loved. Most had remained in Florence but those whom were in the Austrian palace were those she happened to hold dearest, meaning the lack of people did nothing to minimalise the pain whatsoever. The longer she had spent locked away ‘for her safety’ meant the more determined she was to find familiar faces once the doors were opened and she was free to leave, to seek out those she cared for and to know for certain that they were well or to raise hell if they were not; either way, she would find them.

Her emerald gaze stalked the hallways of the palace whilst feet moved swiftly along, slipping past those reuniting in her path without so much as a glance or a polite smile. It was very unlike Bianca to so wrapped up in her own head, in public at least, but there were greater things to concern herself with than curtsies and gentle gestures of politeness. Now, usually she was not one to be caught off guard but the events of the previous few days had left the Princess somewhat on edge and she did feel herself finch when she became swept up into the arms of another. Surprise may have captured her at first but it did not last long at all. Once realisation settled in she let out a laugh in a sob, arms which were skinny in comparison to him finally reacting to tightly embrace her beloved nephew as if their separation had been years and not days.“ Raniero, grazie al cielo. ” Her eyes cast upwards as if she was indeed thanking the heavens above, blinking quickly to push back the tears which threatened to expose her much gentler side than most might see before he could pull back to look at her. “ No no, I am quite fine, I was kept away from it all and much more worried for you than myself. Where have you been? Please tell me you did not get caught up in this betrayal. ”

Of all the things that could have happened, seeing Bianca without a scratch or hair harmed, lifted a weight off his shoulders he had not known to be there. For those three, excruciating days, the only left to keep his sanity was the hope she was with her husband. Whom certainly would not let harm come her way, at any cost. But, given the circumstances under which they had all been ushered into rooms, the actuality of those chances was as dim as the well-being of all had the French broken the locks of the doors. A heavy sigh fell from the Florentine’s lips as they pulled away. “I am glad to see you well - as good as one can. No, no I did not get caught in anything. I was with Amelie, I cannot fathom what it must have been like for her, on this day nonetheless. Your worries were needless, Amelie kept me safe.” Nero said jokingly, hands falling to his sides as he took a step back, only to add, more quietly; “This is madness.”

[principexnero-blog]

How do you feel about your aunt being Florence's greatest treasure? ( ~ not bianca )

//answered— “She’s alright. Kinda. I mean, you know, family. Would not necessarily push her off a cliff.”

[principexnero-blog]

How do you feel about the attack in Austria?

//answered— “Attacking a single state when so many people in power are present, whom the Siege had not been aimed at. Sites would have been taken nonetheless but needless enemies were made that night. Lives unnecessarily risked.  It should not come as a surprise many are less impressed by the French’s actions, given we were in midst of it all, locked up for days.”

[principexnero-blog]

How do you feel about your father's ability to rule?

//answered— “Not everyone born into power possesses the ability to use it wisely. It is no secret my father is a very..indulgent man. His interests lay elsewhere, unfortunately. I do not condone his behavior yet it is not mine to openly judge. The good and the bad alike - we have to observe and decide for ourselves which aspects we want to reflect and if it is of any use to us. If that weren’t the case, we would spend our days trying to teach a donkey compliance instead of investing in more obedient horses. ”

[principexnero-blog]

How do you feel about your future marriage?

//answered— “I hope wise decisions will be made in favor of those in question. Of course, I wish it to prosper and be balanced, as anyone would. But it is completely up to what the future may hold. I do not wish to procrastinate or over-complicate things when it is a matter that is influenced only by the parties involved.”

[principexnero-blog]

memoriadifettosa:

Lucrezia tries to hold back a smile, she truly does, but the grin from her brother begs to be matched. Moving forward, she meets him halfway and hugs him tight.      “Bored? In Florence? That’s a hypocrisy if I ever heard one,”      she pulls back, cheeks hurting from the force of her smile,     “ but, I did miss you. Home is never quite right whilst everyone is away – too quiet for my liking, anyhow. ”      News had yet to travel all the way back to Florence, or at least to her ears, of the events that had transpired there. She was eager to hear of the events, certainly regretting that she missed them,      “ Come, you must tell me about Austria! How were the festivities? ”

The Prince’s hands affectionately cupped his sisters face for a moment to inspect her as she spoke. Although upset at first to attend the festivities without her, in hindsight, he was glad that her name had not been on the list of those whose life he feared for during their stay in Austria. Knowing her safe and sound within the Florentine walls. A heavy sigh fell from Raniero’s lips upon her inquiry, his hands dropped toward hers to lead the Princess toward her bed. “Sit.” He flatly replied. “ Word has not reached you yet, I assume. I had wished to hear of your days at home rather than to speak of more serious matters until we know the details. But you have the right to know as much as anyone else. Austria was under siege. France attacked when the castle was in midst of its festivities - vulnerable to any sudden movements. As far as I am aware, no one was fatally harmed. The Austrian guards moved swiftly and brought everyone to safety, although I have to admit, being locked away for three days was quite a task in itself. It was unjust of the French to choose a day meant for joy and mourning alike. We know no further specifications, unfortunately. But I am glad you stayed home - safe.” 

[principexnero-blog]

valdemarswdn:

He timed his smile to match the end of Raniero’s sentence. Then, he did not only time his smile, but also the cogs and gears beneath it, so that such orchestration would reveal only amusement. Valdemar tested the argument’s structures and found them genuine. Florence was better than the north (and he would have to make peace with that even in his thoughts, even in the depths of midnight, so that no morsel of envy can be accused of tainting his actions) but this did not pertain to the point. The point was an alliance where the other’s superiority -temporary or not- would be rendered moot. Where what instilled value was not an internal hierarchy, but the ability to fortify the other’s lack. Manpower in Castille? The King had to stifle a wolfish laugh. Inside him, something scratched at a door and rubbed its hands.

”I would not dare to doubt your offers. To risk sounding bawdy, a man does not reach my age without learning how to desire what others already procured.” His words were cajoling, an appeal to the other’s disposition to keep a merry mood. The king then loomed forward in his seat: taut shoulders, legs taking up more space under the table, seemingly taller. His voice ached to become tall as well. “I reckoned we agreed we are both headed forward. Did I assent, anywhere or anyhow, that only Sweden arrived there? As of yet, no country can give what others cannot — Albeit, Principe, Florence is closest to that than most. I grant you all my respects for how you rule, mythologically divided: a head in the present, another in the future.”

His finger traced the brass edge of the goblet, which swayed and wobbled under the touch. The Swedish King arched an inquiring glance at the young nobleman, as though in wont of an answer… answer which he soon did not avow. “Now that my respects are on the table, is this boyish game of comparisons and puffed feathers over?” He smirked in both self-indulgence and tolerance towards the other. It was painstaking to maintain joviality, to bite back on gritted teeth; for sooth, if he did not garner such good impression of Raniero, he might have found it insuperable. It was also good he was not used to getting what he wanted, not from the first thrust of the battering ram.

”It was never about what Sweden could give you, Principe. It was about the terms of the giving. Greek ships? Malmsey wine? Did my aforesaid include such parallels? Alas; I long for your youthful thirst: you hear a promise and already see the everything in it. Like towards the stars, you arch for totality.” The king stopped, smiled faintly to himself. He put all traces of nostalgia and acquiescence in that expression; erased all convenience from it. “No, lordship. I have nothing to do with Florentine delicacy, as you’ve put it… nor do I  goggle your main source of income. When I underlined commercial advantages, I did not presuppose their entirety… but their independence from whatever else goes on in the world.”

Beside the goblet, his hand spread on the table, an anchor on the bleak waves in the wood.

“This is what I can guarantee that debtors, martial allies, historical friendships cannot. This was the only purpose of me calling you here. An alliance ingrained in nothing but rational, momentary usefulness. Yes, my workforce is steadier because it is skewed by nothing. Like the wool-spinners order a certain amount of fleece every springtime, and warrant for a certain amount of felt, so will our agreement go. Devoid of anything else but numbers. Debts are paid, power scales tip and tremble; the maps of Europe and beyond swell like rivercourses. I want an alliance rooted in something that has bridged future and past together: the desire to profit, and profit securely.”

Of course, the Florentine approached the conversation in a rather...fortright manner, to say. More than often did business discussions drag and pull, a back and forth of power and dominance rather than a meeting on evened out grounds. Every man wanted to secure themselves the best deal - the one that had them walk out a winner. The Swedish King was a particular man. Raniero had heard stories not only of the man himself but the way he ruled his Kingdom. A deadly combination of throat cutting smarts and the will to reign with a strong hold onto his men. Giving him a reputation that did not sit well with many. However, one that gained him the respect needed for any King or Queen alike. One that the Florentine witnessed sitting in front of the proud King himself. 

“You are at risk of nothing, your Majesty. Speak as freely as you wish. I do not doubt you are a man wise beyond your age. Sweden is, most certainly, a blooming state.” The Prince's head kinked ever so slightly in agreeance of the other mans words. Raniero did not care for the shifting of atmosphere, the assertive gestures of the Swede as the conversation progressed. Nor did he weigh compliments too heavily. It was strictly business they meant to talk - intimidation had little room between two level-headed men. If it was business one sought, it could only be agreed on upon even grounds. Those were the simple basics of the grittier parts coming along. A brief smile in appreciation was shown. Voice as calm as it was the second Raniero entered the King’s chambers. 

“Why, your Majesty. This is not a game of pulling feathers or a game at all. You asked for commerce and I asked you what it is you have to offer. It is as simple as it comes. With all due respect, you are an intelligent man and I have no doubt you are reputable and competent. But there are questions to be asked and answers to be given before blindly agreeing to deals whose conditions are not explicitly clear.” An ankle was propped up on his knee as Nero remained the peaceful smile. Under no circumstances, did he wish to anger or question the King. Yet, he wasn’t completely sure whether the man in question had expected a more compliant, young mind or hoped for his reputation to do the work. AS the man implied ridicule and passively worded aggression. 

Raniero’s smile widened almost wolfishly as his head was cocked in curiosity. “Arching for totality - boldness. Is that not what brings us forward, finally? Why should we settle for less, your Majesty?” Words hung in the air like a promise. A world with endless possibility, Florence was. The city of dreamers and visionaries for a reason. Above of all of those dreamers and men seeking a life of wealth, where those thinking in numbers. Those that had to think in clear lines, with a future in mind and a strong grasp of reality to keep everything in balance. Raniero sat back for a moment, allowing himself a moment to think over the Kings words. Then, as briefly as his time of sole thoughts was, the Medici nodded. “So, what you are proposing, your Majesty, is request and demand. Contact to buyers and traders, for your own, independent business within Florence. Not under completely free conditions, as you must understand both of us to have to think of our own numbers. Your commerce will lower the spectrum of other sellers which are under financial obligations to us. The taxes for space on the market, the goods they are selling and a little non-plus-ultra. You are granted your independence, as far as the price, conditions, and quantity go, but communication has to be done through Florence as a third party. Whether logistically or through contacts, traders, or buyers, will be taxed with a plus of twenty percent on the net amount that has been agreed on with the other party. As you certainly are aware yourself, Florence is a hot spot and I do not have to guarantee you that you will find a better offer under conditions as loose as these. If a certain amount of goods is requested, Sweden covers all logistic and traveling expenses. When nothing is requested or sold - no payments will flow one way or another. Completely without obligations if business lays flat.  Both sides are on even grounds and you remain the independence and freedom you seek under these conditions.” 

[the-write-ideas]

Ask my character "How do you feel about ______?" Can be an idea, person(s), place, or thing, and they'll have to answer honestly.

Ⓦ

[ofthemusketeers]

Porthos & d’Artagnan | Requested by @hacash

[principexnero-blog]

eliascfaustria:

Elias watched Nero, agreeing that both he and Amelie had found great enjoyment in Florence. He had actually loved the sun as well, but the heat had been different in Florence than Vienna. Your sister especially. His brow lifted, “What can I say? Firenze changes a person.” He answered, “Though truthfully, my sister and I are grateful for your welcome. The pair of us both needed a respite, someplace away from..” He hesitated, “Kreuzenstein is home, but sometimes being away from home is needed to soothe the mind.” He confessed, trusting Raniero to not judge him at such a time. He was young too, but not inexperienced as Elias was. He sighed softly, “My father rides to meet the Frenchman to negotiate. Amelie seems to be handling things well enough. She is strong of mind and will.” He answered, an air of tiredness surrounding the prince as he spoke of his family. 

“Your family is always welcome, what transpired is tragic but no deal breaker. While Austria sorts out their next step, it is our duty to offer you a stay that is of no judgment or ill intent. In times like these, it is important to know who’s genuine and who is not.” Nero offered the young Prince a smile. Loyalty was something so fragile and rare that it had to be cherished and their families had been rather close for years that it was their duty to continue so. One day, when the both of them were the heads of their own, especially. “Of course, I understand. To take your mind off further - would you be interested in accompanying me on a hunting trip? Austria has beautiful landscapes and thick forests. You must be quite a skilled hunter, no?” Though it didn’t really matter and if it had been anyone else, Nero would not have made that offer. Hunting was no immediate interest of his, without real purpose when there were men making a living out of it. “She is. I am certain your sister will make a fine Queen one day, such as you will. Is the meeting of good intention or can we expect war to break out soon? Granted, no one could fault your father if he chose to do so.”

[principexnero-blog]

eliascfaustria:

Elias glanced over at the Florentine, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. It was nice, genuinely nice, to be outside of Austria, to be focused on the horse and where they may go. He longed to urge the steed into a full gallop, but forced himself to stay at a reasonable pace. There was no need to race. Though an idea sparked in his head at the thought. “You know us Austrians, afraid of the sun. Our winter skies are where we’re most comfortable.” He jested in response, his eyes glancing toward the forests. “What say you if I suggested we race? The trees would be entertaining, there are creeks to jump and branches to dodge.” 

Leaning comfortably into the back of his saddle, Nero just shook his head chuckling. He had not quite expected the Austrian to be in such...excellent moods. Whether that was the Prince’s way of coping or blissful ignorance to the consequences, Nero didn’t choose to judge. “For a country so afraid of the sun as you claim, your house seems quite fond of it in Firenze. Your sister especially.” It was no secret the families were quite close, despite no current existing alliances. “ I certainly would not mind that but you have ignored my question, Hoheit. “

[principexnero-blog]

memoriadifettosa:

Life was brought back to Florence once again as carriages rolled up after having been gone for a week; not to say that Florence was ever void of life, but she had been lonely. She watched from her perch on a chair as servants whirled around the palace and kissed her family as they came through. Even as life returned, she found herself resorting to a closed off mindset once again. There was one person that she did wish to speak with, one person that would tell her all of the details of Austria; or so she hoped. From down the corridor she could see that the door was ajar, she knocked on the slightly opened door whilst leaning on the frame,      “ Welcome home, mio fratello. ”

@principexnero  

The familiar sense of home settled in as soon as the plentiful fields of Florence came into sight. The Olive trees raking their way through the landscape and, soon, they reached the busy streets that seemingly never slept. After everything that had happened, knowing oneself within familiar walls, surrounded by people one knew best, was certainly comforting. The Medici palace was, as always, buzzing. People welcoming the family back, guests - or rather said, permanent owners of their respective rooms - asking to be heard for they had not wasted the days the family had been gone and continued their work. Nero was all too happy to finally get out of his clothes and recover from the long journey back home. “Leave the bags. They can be unpacked later, I wish not to be disturbed.” He said, as one of the maids seemed eager to sort his things out. The Florentine stepped toward his window, taking off his gloves to drop them onto the sill as he heard steps coming up behind him. “Didn’t I say-” Nero didn’t finish what he wanted to say as a smile spread on his lips upon hearing the familiar voice of his sister. When they had departed, the fact she would stay home had been a rather gloomy thought. Now, after the siege, he was glad she stayed home. Safe. Quick steps carried the young man toward her, arms spread in a warm gesture. “Lucrezia. I wish you would know how happy I am to see you well. I hope you were not too bored while I was gone. Come in.”

[principexnero-blog]

eliascfaustria:

The Austrian prince felt as though he could breathe at last. Being outside in the sun was enough to wake him up, though he had still slept very little since the siege. Sleep would not come, even when he’d pulled the blankets over his head and stubbornly lain still for hours. The steadiness of his horse beneath him was a comfort, one he was grateful for. He guided his horse along, his head turning to his company. For once, he was glad to not be alone. At first he had been thankful for the silence that had surrounded him after the siege, but the silence had allowed for far too many thoughts to fill his mind. The company of just one other could help that, if he could get them to talk. He much preferred to simply listen. “It’s cooler under the shade of the trees, or we could ride along the river, either is acceptable to me.” 

The morning sun was high up early into the day, shining bright, illuminating the fields, the morning dew evaporating as the hours went by. Faint drizzling had left the Florentines clothes squeaking and droplets of water dripping down the mans dark hair. Though he wasn’t cold, rather appreciated the cooling effect it had on his heated skin. The past couple of days had been filled with thoughts about what had happened. The siege, France, the why’s and how’s. What could’ve happened, more importantly. Why the French had awaited an event that had most of Europe gathered in one castle when they only wanted to attack Austria. To say tensions were high within the continent, certainly was an understatement. Tightening his grip on the reins of his steed, Nero fell into a comfortable, matching pace as he reached the Austrian Prince. “Why so, your highness? Does the heat bother you? It is barely on its peak but if you wish, we could take the path through the trees if you prefer to stay out of the sun.” A hint of amusement - innocent, lacking any intentions of making fun of the heir - laced the Florentines calm voice. “How has your family been these days?” 

[karolinadeaen]

D’Artagnan in Season 3: Death of a Hero (3.06)