rvssianroulettcs:
it’s almost a dichotomy, aveline and marguerite. where one had been like events filled to the brim with champagne bubbles, the other was a tranquil afternoon of tea and books, but as it was, everyone soon got used to it. there was no room for one who wasn’t so adaptable in the french court with everything going on there. it was a surprise initially, of course, but matthieu had always expected surprises from marguerite and so, safe to say, it did not last very long. “how old is he now? about five or six? he should join our daughters for lessons sometimes, then. i think he shall fit right in.”
the days of her childhood had forged the bond between herself and marguerite, days spent sprawled in the tall grass or playing chase while stumbling over white skirts with dirtied hems. she had been a free little thing, once, without shadowed eyes and dark gowns. “six, yes,” he has the same golden hair of aveline, warm and honey-colored, and the deep dark eyes of his father. she had not thought it possible to love someone as deeply as she had her husband, but gustav is truly the light of her life. “the queen has spoken of much the same,” her lips quirk into a hint of a smile, “it is a wonderful idea - one that i will take you up on. it would do them well, i think.”









