the neva flows

[sophiemlorraine-deactivated2022]

sophie / open

[russianblood-blog2]

sophiemlorraine‌:

The lady beside her surprised Sophie - while she was absolutely stunning, her looks unlike anything Sophie had seen before, her observant eyes did not miss the way she rose. Perhaps just the tiniest bit unsteady, maybe a little fatigued. She supposed it could be tied to excessive dancing, much like her own state, but the softness of the lady’s words as well as her soft movements made for Sophie to respond in kind. 

“Please, rest assured I would never ask someone to leave simply for my sake,” Sophie spoke simply, a ghost of a smile at her lips. She gestured at the bench her conversational partner had been previously seated at before she was interrupted. “I will join you, for a moment.” As soon as her body made contact with the bench, Sophie felt the tension on her aching feet ease, and as she slowly exhaled she added, “… Perhaps for more than a moment.” Fully aware that she wasn’t currently the epitome of German nobility at this moment, Sophie let out a chuckle. “Forgive me, I just barely escaped a sixth turn about the room with an overly excited German man.” Her eyes scanned the woman’s face, noticing a few of the typical features she found in other Romanova women present tonight. The siblings truly weren’t hard to distinguish. “Princess Anastasia, correct?”

It seemed as though the woman was just as exhausted as Anastasia was, though when she spoke, it became clear that it was for entirely different reasons. She couldn’t help but envy her a little, then. How glorious it must be to feel this way because you had fatigued yourself with something as wonderful as dancing! Anastasia had been forbidden from taking part in such things. As ever, there was a worry she would over exert herself, and who knows what that would do to her slowly-improving health. 

“Then please, sit with me,” Anastasia invited the other, sinking back on to the bench and allowing unmasked relief to creep into her expression. “We can remain here for as long as you may like. I certainly am not going anywhere for the time being.” She stretched her legs out in front of them, her feet peeking out from the edge of her skirts. “It sounds as though your night has been wonderful,” she said, a little wistfully. “I suppose it is only natural to be such a popular dance partner. You are very pretty.” The Russian knew little of the world. She had spent so long in solitude that she had never learned to filter her thoughts, and so she spoke the compliment without a hint of anything but a genuine admiration. As soon as her name was spoken, her face lit up with a beaming smile. The joy of being recognised was still a novelty. “I am! And you are Princess Sophie.” There had been little to do, without dancing, and so she had contented herself with annoying the Russian ambassadors by asking the name of every important-looking person she spotted in the crowd. “It is so lovely to meet you.” 

[russianblood-blog2]

evclyncfengland‌:

Evelyn had been mingling with people for far too long now. Her nerves were strained and thinned by the amount of power men attempted to flare her way ( honestly, this whole gathering was just a flock of peacocks, flaring their tails to see whose is the most colourful ). She had been annoyed for the last half an hour, quietly praying to whatever was listening ( at this point, she would have contented with the Devil as well ) that the lord would stop yapping incessantly about his wife and their children who are probably not as smart or glorious as he painted them to be. The princess could only smile and nod, bobbing her head in a repetitive motion that threatened a cramp to the nape of her neck at the end of the evening, but then his grace found his goblet of wine empty and decided to pursue another lady or lord occupying the spot beside the pitcher.

Evelyn sighed, briefly closing her eyes, before her glance slid over the room, searching for an exit, anything that could provide her with momentary respite. But, instead of an exit, her glance fixed upon a petite blonde, looking rather… distraught, and on an instinct she possessed only around children and animals ( and people in distress; curse her kind temperament ), the silver haired princess approached the younger lady, with a concerned expression setting between her brows. “Are you quite sure you are alright?” Evelyn asked, then cast a quick glance at the terrace, finding it vacant at the moment. “Would you like me to accompany you to get some fresh air? The balcony is unoccupied and the air in the room is far too stale and over heated as it it.”

There was a part of Anastasia that despised being fussed over so. She should have been used to it by now, but the more strength she gained, the more she hated it, for such attentions only reminded her of being sick. Even so, the Russian possessed not a single cruel bone in her fragile body, and when combined with a desire to please, could not find in herself to ask the other blonde not to look at her like that.  She wasn’t to know how it made her feel, and so Anastasia forced a smile on her face, and did her best to keep her back as straight as she could, as she had been taught when she had finally taken tentative steps to join the world. “Thank you for asking, but I am sure. I am just a little embarrassed,” she confessed. She had certainly endured worse. 

The offer was unanticipated, but not unwelcome. Removing herself from the room, heavy with smoke from candles, hot from the heat of the bodies within, was doing Anastasia no favours whatsoever, and it may be a little easier to clear her airways out in the open. “If you would not mind awfully?” She asked, her cheeks colouring at the thought of interrupting the other’s night. “I do not wish to pull you away from the festivities if you are having a good time.” 

[russianblood-blog2]

yuecfchina‌:

The lady was pleasant, and there was something honest about her which softened the princess’ ( normally rather stern and hard ) resolve, coaxing out a more sincere smile on her lips as she motioned for the blonde to join her table. She did not expect for the petite woman to speak Mandarin, but the surprise which flashed in her dark eyes had been brief and successfully veiled with a wider smile. “No, of course not. Please.” She urged, head curiously tilted to the side as she observed the blonde - she had seen her earlier, mingling with the Romanov dynasty and given the faint Russian accent she heard in her voice, she guessed she belonged to the Russian royalty ( or nobility, but something told her that her new companion was a princess as well - who else would try to learn Mandarin, if not for potential political reasons? and who, except for royalty, would even have such reasons? ).

Her Mandarin was rather good - Russian accent and some minor errors in pronunciation aside - and she could understand her clearly, which only furthered her curiosity with the woman. “You are not imposing, I could use a more feminine company for the evening. I fear I have grown too accustomed to having my dear uncles keeping my company.” More like keeping her away from the rest of the guests - until they realised they were also keeping themselves away from them. “Princess Aisin Goro Yue, at your service.” Yue introduced with another court bow.

“Her smile widened at the confirmation, and she sank into the seat gratefully. She was pleased that he attempts to speak in the woman’s own language had been successful, and that gave her a little more confidence. The shyness with which she had approached disappeared, overtaken with a burning desire to get to know her new companion, to make a new friend from a distant part of the world. She had always been a solitary child, and a lonely woman. Her illnesses had kept her away from others her own age, from all but nursery maids, tutors, and physicians, there to keep an eye on her and tend to her needs, but not to simply be her friend.This little journey was the start of something new for Anastasia, and she hoped that the Chinese Princess would be the first of many new companions. 

“I was waiting for them to leave before approaching you,” she said, a sheepish grin on her face. “I mean, I am sure your uncles are lovely, I just did not wish to intrude, and...” and they scared me. She trailed off before the words could be spoken, her cheeks pinkening. “Oh, but I did not mean to offend in any way. I am sorry if I have” She copied the bow that Yue bestowed upon her. It was not how they greeted one another in Russia, but she was, as ever, eager to learn. “Princess Anastasia Romanova. Of Russia.” 

[yuecfchina]

The evening had barely begun and she was already pursing her lips in mild distaste. It was not that the gathering was… dull or unpleasant, but rather that she would have liked to be back home, dealing with her uncles on a familiar territory and familiar setting. Now, she had to watch them like hawks, making mental notes to remember and acquaint herself with every foreign dignitary or noble they idly chatted with ( she did not doubt for one second that they were attempting to strengthen their cause, making empty but tempting promises in return for their support ).

The seat next to her had been vacant for a few minutes, once the last of her uncles chose to waltz up to an unknown noble ( mental note to self : gather information about the lord in question ). Yue was grateful for the respite from all the false smiles and even dumber, falser words she directed towards the youngest of her uncles, but it would seem that her solitude would not last for long. A person approached the table the Chinese princess was seated at, and Yue found it the perfect opportunity to attempt to… mingle. She greeted them with a polite smile and a polite invitation. “Please, join me.”

[russianblood-blog2]

For too long, Anastasia had been cut off from the world, separated and sheltered from all that might do her harm. Now, she had a chance, a glimmer of hope that one day, she could live a normal life, though many eyes were fixed upon her, waiting for a sign that she had once more been struck down with something that would bring her ever-closer to death’s door. During her time abed, she had read much, about her own country, and about others. China had been one of her favourite places to read of, their stories and legends capturing her imagination, and when she had desired to read more of their tales in her own language, her parents had found her a tutor to instruct her in Mandarin, though the man had been Russian, and she had a good grasp of it- on paper at least.

Mingling with members of the Chinese royalty would be the perfect opportunity to learn a little more about them, and to practise her pronunciation in the process. Or she would- but there were many men in the entourage, and the prospect of approaching them scared her a little. She had never spent much time with the opposite sex, even within her own family, for she had only a single brother. When the last of them cleared, it seemed far safer to approach, and so she wasted no time in rising and walking over.

The woman greeted her graciously, and a smile broke out over her face. “Oh, would you mind terribly?” She spoke in Mandarin, the words a little awkward, perhaps, but not unintelligible. “I would never wish to impose, but I would so like to join you.”

[sophiemlorraine-deactivated2022]

sophie / open

Open starter

The night’s festivities had been a night Sophie had looked forward to for a long time. She’d spent the first hour or so talking to other nobles, fulfilling her royal duties as was expected of her and had thus far been spending the remainder of her time dancing until her feet ached. She was in the midst of taking a break when she saw a previous dance partner - one she did not want to share another spin through the room with - come toward her, and she quickly turned on her heel to leave. If she were to dance any more, she feared her feet would actually start to bleed. And, if she were completely honest, she was growing tired, too. 

Sophie allowed her feet to take quickly her to a quieter, nearly deserted corridor to the side, save for a few servants running about to bring more food and wine to the guests. As her feet slowed, her dress flowing behind her, she placed one hand on her abdomen and breathed in deeply. The last thing she expected was movement to her right, and she jumped slightly. “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t see you.”

[russianblood-blog2]

It had all become a little much for Anastasia. Whilst she was enjoying herself far too much to call it a night, she had always tired easily, and never more so now she was no longer stuck in confinement. She would do nothing to risk her fragile health, and had spent the night politely refusing calls to dance and ignoring the wine on the tables. drinking had never agreed with her, and she still had a long way to go until she was comfortable exerting herself. Still, though she had no intentions of retiring for the night, she needed a moment of respite, and that was what brought her to the empty corridor. Well, almost empty. 

She hadn’t expected another to join her, and though she was exhausted, she did not mind the company. Placing one hand on the wall, she stood, rising to her feet with all the grace she could muster in her bone-wary state. “Please, there is no need to apologise,” she responded, dark eyes wide and sincere. “You can join me for a moment, if you would like. Unless you are utterly sick of company. I can find another place to be if you would rather stay here alone.” 

[russianblood-blog2]

Her breath was coming out in wheezes, and her thin fingers scrabbled to loosen her dress, just a little, so that she may regain her composure. Her cheeks coloured, though it was plain to her that it was from embarrassment, and not because it momentarily hurt her to breathe. Anastasia closed her eyes, and focused on her breathing, the way her physician had taught her, had coached her through so many times. In through her nose, hold, and out, slowly. Steadily, her chest rose and fell with far more regularity. 

Though she had managed to return to normal, a panic still gripped Anastasia. For the first time in her life, she had felt well. Not quite healthy, but better than she could ever remember being. She had not been hit with a bout of sickness in months, and even her more persistent symptoms, such as the dratted constricting in her chest that restricted her ability to inhale, had lessened. Every slight step backwards had her worried for relapse, for now she had tasted even a small measure of the world outside of her chambers, she could never return to her former life. 

She looked up, and caught another’s eyes. “Please, do not be worried for me! I am quite well!” She insisted. The last thing she needed was word to get back to her physician, for she would surely be ushered straight back to Russia. “Please don’t tell anybody.” 

[queensofglam]