@blessedcharlesv
– The ladies of the marchioness’ party were tittering with the news of Charles’ presence – as though a Messiah himself stood among them like a great monolith of prestige and renown that spanned, seemingly, from continent to isle, isle to a new world. He was neither king nor prince, but an emperor of them all, and rumoured to be as capable as the late English monarch, albeit not with as many scintillating interests. Catherine had to admit she felt some modicum of regard, some flicker of interest lick at her marrow, at the prospect of acquainting herself with a ruler of the likes of the great empire – but her feelings were not so animated, nor as professed or intense as that of her ladies in waiting ; Catherine was the most apathetic of all, something she found to be provoking in women, as though she had only then taken note of the Emperor’s being. Whilst the surrounding gentlemen, emperor included, enjoyed a game of lawn tennis, the marchioness readied herself to engage his curiosity by sidling up to the emperor and casting her head toward his opponent. “ It seems your rival thinks himself as skilled a schemer as he is tennis player. A word of warning – I would be inclined not to trust his motives, but then again I do not have your prudent judgement. ”
