checkmate.

he bleeds for a growing empire that discarded him. royalty and secrets: an envoy. — #bloodygloryrpg —

[suhajan]

ginevrademedici​.

Closed starter for @suhajan

Location : a stall bearing goods from Hindustan

There was never a time in Ginevra’s life when they did not ask far too many questions. A nuisance, according to both of their brothers, though their parents had found it charming in its own way. Regardless of what Cosimo and Antonio thought of their incessant curiosity, the elder Medici brother did nothing to prevent them from chasing the answers to their questions. Ginevra loved him dearly for that. 

They surveyed the maharaja with great interest. They had never met anybody from the Mughal Empire before, much less a prince. A thousand questions sat on their tongue, but it was hard to know which to ask first. Would he even want such questions? Would he see them as impertinent, an annoyance to be ignored,, or would be welcome an interest in his culture? 

“I have a question,” they began, tapping their lips with their fingers before pressing on. “I have many questions, in actuality. About your home.” They allowed the words to linger, giving him ample opportunity to turn and run. “Would you mind terribly if I asked them to you? I have been told that I ask far too many of them.” 

Esra had run off once more, leaving him to wander. Perhaps she hoped for him to loosen up with the festivities. But the weight of his father’s expectations weighed heavy on him. Maybe that’s why he found himself at a stall that held jewels from home: maps, fabrics, and even dried goods. There were a few books here and there, but he had read them all. He couldn’t help but reach out, wanting to grab them and find himself lost in a familiar sea of words. But then a voice caught his attention, and he turned. He eyed them, assessing the face albeit similar to a chess piece, and recognition flickered inside him. 

Ginevra Romola di Piero de’ Medici.

An eccentric child from the Medici family, Suhan had seen them in passing. During the initial ceremony, he had caught a glimpse and made inquiries, but he staged surprised. It was better to keep his investigations a secret for now. The question caught him off guard; home was a subject he doesn’t indulge much in if given a chance. However, he knew that relations with others who carried power would have to toss such feelings aside. Instead, he offered a welcoming smile without a falter seen. The silence on his end was becoming too long. 

“My apologies, such a question has not been asked in a long time. But I wonder if I will ever meet such expectations. My home is merely a landscape of sand, not like here.” He straightened his posture and raised a brow at them before he glanced around at the snow around them. “But do not worry about such things. However, I wonder may I catch your name..?” 

A cunning man Suhan was crafted to be, and he wondered how they would respond.

Which was more important? Formalities or knowledge.

[suhajan]

mchrani​.

Sometimes, she would forget the age gap between them - how serious her brother was ; it didn’t mean she was childish or immature - but, she didn’t see the point in being perpetually tense and calculating ( when they were among the Ottomans, then yes, of course. she did not trust them as far as she could throw them, but perhaps that stemmed from her distrust as a someone being born and raised in nobility - she knows what their smiles mean and she knows they are rarely sincere ). But, to be quite fair, she did not see the point in acting that way in a market place. It is not like anyone would dare to assassinate them in broad daylight, with so many people around them. Still, Suhan followed with only minimal complaining, both stemming from his posture and the soft words he uttered, quietly scolding, but she knew it was only half-hearted.

“I am not getting younger, Suhan. I have to walk fast, or else someone might get to the object before me and I do want to take a good look at it, undisturbed by others.” She pouted, though a smile was already blooming on her lips - it was easy spending time with her brother ; he understood her better than anyone else and she liked to think she understood him better than most - that came in handy when she needed to discern if he was really angry at her, or just… fondly exasperated.

Ah. So that was why he’d agreed to come along. One day - just the one ; that was all she asked for. One day of not having to worry about how to reel in her crush and the current object of her brother’s political interest. Sure, it was her who would have to marry him, but… so far, she had no objections ( and she had a very damning sense that her feelings about this are of absolutely no importance, or validity, at all ). Her violet gaze followed the pin, lips pursed in thought - and for the sake of her brother and the general mood, her smile turned more excited as she observed the trinket. It was a pretty pin, after all ; rose gold with ruby - it complimented her obsidian hair to perfection. “Oh, it’s divine!” Esra exclaimed.

“I hardly did anything yet. I love the mirror, though. And the pin. But, I don’t think he is the kind of man who can easily swayed by a new pin decorating my hair. He is not a romantic in his heart and soul. He does not appreciate the aesthetic, as much as we do, Han.” She pursed her lips in thought. “No… If we want to play this right, perhaps something… more ensnaring to the senses. I was thinking a perfume, rather. It is subtle, but it lingers longer than a tacky hairpin.”

The words didn’t sting; had he been a teen again, then she might hold sway over him. After his mother’s death, there was some weakness in him. But his father and fellow brothers made sure there wasn’t anymore. However, behind all his layers, he held some affection for his sister— the only family with his blood. She was his sister, and in some cases, his ward. Instead, he dismissed the gift he had chosen, no longer interested in the value it held. Esra held a point, and his sister was ever the one to point out the imperfections in his plans. Which made sense; she was not just a pawn. So much more, a right hand even.

“I suppose even you outgrow these little jewels. I forget how much you have grown.” His fingers retracted, and he gave a look of dismissal at the vendor. Suhan plucked the trinket from her hands and placed it back. But none of that matter, he turned towards her. 

There was a sweet smile on her face, and her eyes glittered with cunning intent. But Suhan knew his sister; shadows were dancing under her eyes, and the smile felt too forced. Their images were overlapping as she bore the weight as his political tool. But in the end, she was so much like his mother, and Suhan was a lot like his father. The thought crossed his mind before he cleared his throat. He’d indulge her nonsense if it kept her amused since they were far from the prying eyes of those around them. If anything went wrong, then he could easily find a way to make sure nothing hindered them. For the time being, the two merely needed to keep up pretenses with the Ottomans. Everyone else was fair game.

“Seems you’ve gained more insight; I wonder who has been teaching you.” Suhan mused before pointing towards the candelabra. Not for her, but for the merchant to pack before he motioned towards the mirror. He conversed only for a minute, the price not bothering him at all. Instead, one of the aides that were nearby would make sure to grab it. They were always near, but not too close. Since Esra, in the past, made a point of wanting space. Suhan agreed as well, seeing as no one could betray him if secrets remained hidden between blood. “Now, perfume? I don’t see any around here. Shall we continue walking? There are fewer people.” 

By no means was he giving in to Esra, more so he was patient with her. Suhan had learned at a young age that people were easier to motivate when happy. 

[suhajan]

mchrani​.

icy

location : Rome, Italy. the fair. closed for : @suhajan​

She’s never experienced weather this cold - the kind of chill that feels like someone’s constantly pinching her cheeks and the tip of her nose ; the kind of cold that both dries her eyes and makes them water, occasional involuntary tears pooling at the corners, spilling whenever she would blink. It was the kind of cold that made her feel like she’d never be warm again, and that damned chilled breeze that coiled around the buildings, swept through the streets and wrapped around her, seeping though her thick, fur lined coat, had truly started to vex her. But, there was beauty in all this ice, something both romantic and cruel about it, that made the, what would have otherwise been quite sour, mood all the more lighter, putting a soft smile on her lips as she meandered through the streets, arm laced though her brother’s, bodies close in an attempt to steal some of his warmth.

Still, it was a rather beautiful day, despite the chill and the absurdly weak glow of the Sun ( she missed the heat - but, so long it was not too hot. all was well when the weather was in good measure - not too cold, but not too hot, either. she’s always preferred the warmth of spring and the soft chill of autumn, to the unbearable heat of the summer and equally ferocious chill of the winter. ). Shoulder pressed to against her brother’s arm, Esra hummed as they walked, gaze gliding over the vendors and the merchandise they sell. “It’s so lively today. I didn’t expect there would be so many people out, not with all this frost around us.” She spoke, tone soft, thinly veiling to curiosity laced through her words. “Though, I suppose it adds to the charm. It is a winter’s fair, after all.”

Dark, violet eyes fixed upon a stand with various objects, trinkets really, a sea of gold, silver and bronze gleaming in the morning’s light. Various jewels and gems called for her, but there was one peculiarly shaped item that drew her attention, and an excited sound left her lips. “Oh! Do you see that silver-and-gold mirror? It looks so interesting! Do you mind if we took a peek at it?” She turned to her brother, tugging at his arms, already dragging him in towards the stand. “And I think I saw a candelabra that would look just perfect on your desk!”

A single glance down, and he could see his sister’s eyes glitter with fascination. They remained unmatched by any of the expensive gems that lay on silk and presented at the stalls. After all, Suhan made sure his only sister outshined such treasures. Even in Italy, he noticed how noblemen looked at her with a carnal desire. However, he steered her from such low-grade scum. Instead, they walked along the road that wasn’t too steep. Suhan watched their surroundings, a vigilant gaze that looked for the slightest movement. He could never be too careful when there was plenty of factions within a meeting of many countries. 

However, his train of thought halted when she pulled him by the arm. For a moment, he forgot that she was still young. Unable to stop herself from being blinded by the frosty sights. The two began to walk towards the stall Esra found, snow falling all around them. Suhan acted out of habit and lifted his arm from his sister’s embrace. The swift movement, from an outsider’s perspective, could be deemed as distance. But the two knew better. Suhan’s fur coat in a manner of a shield from the weather until they reached their destination.

“Âbji, you’re impatient. Must you always rush?” He used their mother-tongue to refer to her, albeit informally. They shared royal blood in their veins, but Suhan preferred keeping their ties close. If his sister placed his loyalties elsewhere, then he would find himself in a predicament. So despite scolding her, Suhan softened his tone, and then a soft smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. The wrinkles on the corners of his eyes appear as he begins to push her along the right path. To anyone’s standards, the faint expression seemed to be genuine. But true intentions lay behind the harmless facade as his fingers reached out to grab one of the aforementioned items. Suhan hummed to himself before clicking his tongue and reached for a gilded hairpin instead. “The endless winter will not fade, nor will the festival. Our hosts would hate it if all of us stayed indoors. Perhaps we should obtain you a trinket to show him—”

The vendor watched the two, a simple merchant. But one could never be sure with the eyes of many empires around them. So he made sure to speak quietly to his sister. 

“Hmm, we can make this work.” He held the hairpin to her lengthy hair; on the rose-gold accessory, rubies were decorating it. They glowed beautifully, and he glanced at Esra. “What do you think? I will still get you the mirror you desire too. After all, hard work deserves rewards, right?” 

[suhajan]

Hey, I’m Ocean ! Here is Suhan Gukani, my secretive son. I can’t wait to write with anyone. If you’d like to know more about him here is his info & over here is some connections that were put together. But don’t worry we can all hatch up other plots together !!

[jiminfilter]

[suhajan]

philukas‌:

– Genya Safin, Ruin and Rising