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The Return to Woldzmir


MunaZaldrizoti
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"Providence to you, Your Majesty...and God bless."

 

No sooner had the Dowager-Duchess of Adria uttered these words, did she retreat into the walls of the yet-unnamed imperial palace, servants and courtiers rushing all around her. Her sister-in-law Josephine had left earlier, amidst their unexpected luncheon with the Queen of Hanseti-Ruska, so Charlotte found herself almost entirely alone. Allowing her weary legs to carry her, she made way towards the office of the Empress...her office, she supposed it still was.

 

Awaiting her, to both her relief and surprise, was her daughter, Josephine Aleksandra. She had dressed for what was meant to be an auspicious day, her crimson gown trimmed in gold frills and accents. Like a princess, the dowager thought to herself, and now she will never get the chance. Outside, they heard the calls of the ISA, and proclamations of "Long Live Philip the Great!". To Charlotte, she seemed neither dismayed or confused. With her husband dead, she knew she no longer had place within the crumbling court of her father-in-law. The stepson she had known as a boy was a man now, and his animosity for the family he had left behind seemed too strong for her to face on her own. It was her daughter who pulled her from her dismay, bidding it time for the last of the Tuvyics to make their retreat. It did not take long, for the Dowager-Duchess to collect her personal things, a few palace maids, and depart through a postern gate with her youngest child in tow.

 

The further the city walls grew away from their party, the more the aging woman recalled her life there. Her youth, raised to be charitable and forthcoming with kindness by her father. The abandonment of her mother, even the purchase of her own house. A joyless, longing smile graced her lips at that thought. How cosmopolitan she had felt. Just another imperial princess, trying to stand out from the handful of others. Then, her Social Season, where she received much praise, and her subsequent courtships with the Dukes of Sunholdt and Cathalon. Sigismund Carrion-Tuvyic, the brooding man she had settled for came into her mind as well, the gentleman had provided her with the two greatest treasures she had possessed in her life. Finally, she spared a thought for Philip Aurelian, the husband who had reluctantly taken her on as his second wife and future empress. She said a quiet prayer for his soul, at least owing the restoration of her daughters' fortunes to him as they had spoken fondly of mere days before his untimely death.

 

-

 

Her arrival within Woldzmir was warmer than any welcome she had received in months, her daughter and son-in-law waiting to greet them. It made her smile to see too her one step-granddaughter, Julia Amadea, with a loving arm by the Baroness wrapped about her shoulders. She was heartened to see Moliana had kept her promise to protect the young girl, named for both a saint and empress of old. 

 

 Charlotte had never dreamed she'd return to reside within those crimson walls, a place she had once thought of as a prison. However, now it had been filled with life by her eldest child, who the princess knew would care for her in her impending old age. The imperial might care for her grandchildren, watch them grow, and see that at least her own descendants persisted well after she herself was gone from the world.

 

The Dowager-Duchess of Adria had reached the highest-heights of her empire, and now she had fallen. But in her humility, she saw the true value of life beyond that of politics and courtly life. Beyond dresses and marks and hubris. The revelation stood present before her now.

 

Family and Love.

 

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Spoiler

Just a post to explain Charlotte's departure from Providence. She will be setting up a small court of her own within Woldzmir, to live out her life as a widow. If anyone wants to rp with her or contact her, feel free to shoot me a DM on Discord. Elsewise, catch me adventuring around with Unbaed and Toffee!

The last few days, especially for me, have been some of the worst I've ever experienced in almost 5 years on LOTC. But, because I have friends to uplift me, I won't let it get the better of me. I don't condone the actions of anyone's behavior and I hope that all that has happened will at least settle many of the issues Oren has had. I wish everyone the best of luck, going forward. Time for me to just focus on myself, my friends, and my roleplay.

 

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A ginger-haired elfess played with a small bud plucked to early, rolling it between her clad digits as she'd inspect its unfurled petals, lips pursed with a muse. "All flowers hold beauty," She began, glancing to the peasant youth who had gifted her such an innocent regalia. "Yet, sometimes certain buds are taken far too early from an atmosphere from which they could strive within. Never allowing their full potential to bloom. And thus, it is life. Unpreventable and unpredictable. An unbreaking cycle of misfortunate."

Edited by DahStalker
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Moliana rubbed at her tired eyes as she sat at her desk tucked into the corner of her workshop, having only returned from her trip earlier that day.  The nib of her pen hovered over the paper of her journal as she contemplated how to begin documenting her and Elimar's venture.  Though, before her pen would be permitted to scratch away at the parchment, calls accompanied by the clangor of horse hooves were heard from the courtyard of Woldzmir below her.

 

Rising up to peer out the narrow window of her attic workspace, Moliana blinked to make out the familiar shape of her mother and sister entering into the kremlin's grounds.  How long was I gone, exactly? Moliana questioned to herself as she tucked her chair back in, and moved to greet her family.  Not before she offered a gentle kiss to a swathed shape resting within a bassinet.

 

Little did she realize that she was soon to learn of the recent conflict and twists that occurred in the capital these past weeks.

 

[[the velocity of the river was 5.4 ft/s btw]]

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Spoiler

This whole week has been a mess…

I hope you are doing well in Woldzmir, Muna. 

 

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Ostromir Carrion laments the creatures inhabiting his kremlin from the woodlands, Claws running down that skeletal face. 

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Soft and heavy breaths escape the former Lady-Governor.

 

[Reserved]

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The skittishness of the horse beneath her kept Josephine from examining her thoughts too closely, but they were there, rasping against her serrated edges, throwing up sparks. Kindling a deep anger in her breast. A tug on the reins stopped her horse’s head from tossing, but the animal wanted to break into a gallop. Race through the trees, the wind clawing at its carefully braided mane until the hair came loose and flowed behind it like liquid silk, inky black against the soft, dappled light of the forest. Josephine wished she could run alongside it, but the effort of keeping astride was enough to inflame the sickness in her lungs. A cough rose up in her throat and she forced it behind clamped lips. Her mother didn't need something else to worry about.

 

Beside her, her mother’s horse was as docile as its rider. Imperial Princess, Countess Dobrov, Dowager Countess, Duchess Adria, would-be Empress. Twice widowed and aging, her mother was no less beautiful. Dowager Duchess, she was now. But more importantly—mother, grandmother, aunt, daughter. Human. Josephine had no doubt her mother's story was not over, but for now, she would enjoy the quiet chapters within Woldzmir, surrounded by family.

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