Glorious Troublemaker

⠀⠀⠀⠀indie, priv. & sel. portrayal of claude de valois, daughter of their majesties henri II valois & caterina de medici.

[thevaloisprincess]

Apologies for the disappearance. Life has been chaotic since the move. I have most things sorted now though so I expect a full return by Monday! Thank you for bearing with me.

[leroichevalier]

→ I AM shocked!

[thevaloisprincess]

Activity notice

Mun is moving house in a week and will thus need all time that isn’t spent at work to go to packing and cleaning the old apartment. Activity will therefore be sporadic this week.

[thevaloisprincess]

💔

Send me a 💔 and I’ll generate a number, 1-75, and post a starter based on what scenario I get.

43. Our muses at a mutual loved one’s funeral.

Clad in all black and with handkerchief clasped tightly in hands that rested upon her abdomen, the princess stepped out into the courtyard, joining the other royals, nobles and servants. At the end of the stone path stood a dark coffin, the coffin of her dearest brother Francis. A blurriness overcame the world as tears shrouded her vision, the lump in her throat growing larger by the second. She joined her other siblings, a heavy sigh escaping her as salty droplets trickled down her face. The passing of her big brother had left a large hole in her heart - a pain that burned fiercely, unmerciful. He had been her best friend, the person she looked up to when they were young; her brave brother. The fact that he was no longer there was so difficult for her to grasp. Nimble fingers enveloped in black gloves reached for Henri’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. Something in the air had shifted, France was unstable, and the Valois siblings had to be there for each other. Now more than ever. 

[venus--syndrome]

🌼

[poetics-aesthetics]

~ pink ~

[thevaloisprincess]

💔 ( IM SO EXCITED YOU"RE BACK )

Send me a 💔 and I’ll generate a number, 1-75, and post a starter based on what scenario I get. 

13. My muse by your muse’s deathbed.

     It was not fair. She had only just returned to court after years away, she had only just reconnected with her family - with her father. The man she looked up to when she was a child, the man who protected her and kept her safe from all that wished to cause her harm, he who taught her so much. Now he was lying in his bed, bandages wrapped around his face, covering the eye that had been injured whilst he had been jousting. A red stain was visible on the bandage; begun as a small spot but slowly growing. Hazel eyes shrouded with tears were plastered upon the King’s face. So pale - lacking the usual glow, a mere shadow of what he used to be. Nimble fingers found the larger hand and she squeezed it tightly. “Father, I just came home. Do not leave me, please.” The princess’ voice wavered ever so slightly as the lump in her throat grew larger. “You promised we would go riding together, you promised.”

[thevaloisprincess]

❝ As a princess, the people look to you for reassurance. ❞

Claude’s brows were furrowed into a deep frown and her arms were tightly crossed over her chest. “That is nonsense! My brother is the king, I have no obligations to the french people, that is his job.” Eyes housing a fervid flame locked with Catherine’s. “I refuse to give up my freedom. If the people need reassurance then have Charles send his peasant girlfriend. If anything she’s more eligible to talk some sense into them, being a nobody herself.” 

[thevaloisprincess]

❝ Claude! ❞ There was panic in her voice, a shrillness she hadn't used since the children had been young and more prone to danger. ❝ I can't wear this! ❞ Catherine took a breath. ❝ Sweetheart, I appreciate you trying to help me out, but this... this isn't something I'd feel comfortable wearing. ❞

     Hazel eyes rolled skywards and a frustrated sigh was released from pink stained lips. “Honestly mother, must you be such a prude? No offence, but your usual wardrobe makes you look like an old school teacher, which is not helpful at all, especially not on a first date.” 

     Claude reached out her hand and straightened the strap of the dress whose fabric fell flush against Catherine’s frame, tracing every curve and finishing off in a deep neckline. “This dress is perfect. You look stunning and he is not going to be able to keep his hands off of you.” 

[thevaloisprincess]

Mun is going hiking today and won’t be able to be on here. I’ll get to asks and replies tomorrow!

[babyphotography1]

[existenth-blog]

[saintjoan]

[thevaloisprincess]

「⚜」:: @reignoftheflorentine​

     Growing up as a princess of France, Claude had experienced nothing but the most lavish life. With a simple flick of her hand she was bestowed the latest fashions, luxurious jewels and presented with foods and drinks of the finest quality. She had numerous servants that dressed her, cleaned for her, and took her wherever her heart desired. And then there was the men. How desperate they all were to take a sip of her essence, how easily she wrapped them around her little finger and used them for her own amusement until she grew bored and tossed them to the side. Yes, Claude lived a life led by oppulence. Her life was perfect, no? What else could she ever require? She asked herself this as she laid below yet another man, his heavy breath in her ear and his skin flush against hers. Claude looked away, she could never bare meet their eyes. Moments later the man had been thrown out of her chambers in nothing but his undergarments. Claude felt empty. She could have anything she ever desired. Almost. What she longed for the most seemed the most impossible to acquire - a mother’s love. 

     She did not know what she had done to deserve the neglect, the hatred. It had started when she was five years old, shortly after her twin sisters had died. Her mother, who previously doted on her and was ever so solicitous suddenly stopped visiting her before bedtime, the Queen was suddenly too busy to see her. Claude’s attempts to spend time with her mother, to show her any physical affection were all shrugged aside. The previous softness and warmth in Catherine’s tone was replaced by a sharpness that left bruise after bruise on her little heart. Why did her siblings deserve unconditional love, but not her? As time passed, hope was replaced by anger, and loneliness became Claude’s best friend. The princess turned to promiscuity, alcohol and rebellious acts. All an attempt to gain the Florentine’s attention, but also to momentarily alleviate herself of the pain. But alas, it scarcely worked the way she hoped; the Queen pushed her further away and the alcohol only briefly soothed the fiery wounds of her heart. She felt like an intruder in her own family - unwanted, unloved. 

     To say that she was surprised to be summoned to her mother’s chambers was an understatement. Claude entered the sumptuous rooms of the former Queen with a furrowed brow, a mixture of confusion and suspicion gracing her features. She was not used to this - she dared not hope. She ignored the chair brought forward by the servant and instead she stepped towards Catherine, lithe fingers curling into fists in an attempt to calm her beating heart. Hazel eyes sought the pair identical to hers, a sheen of mistrust and caution evident in her own.

     ❝I don’t understand, why do you want me here? You never wish to see me if it is not of absolute necessity so why send for me now?❞ Her tone was sharp and laced with heavy bitterness. The protective walls around her heart were built high and the sudden interest from her mother was deemed as an intruder aiming to tear the walls down. No. She could not allow it. Hope always led to disappointment.   

[ofhotheads-blog]

THE MEME FOR PEOPLE WHO HATE HAPPINESS.

Who doesn’t love soul-crushing angst? Send me a 💔 and I’ll generate a number, 1-75, and post a starter based on what scenario I get. 

Please note that some of these scenarios may be triggering.

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