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sarahbarah

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About sarahbarah

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    some haeseni girlboss

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  1. A PRINCESS’S MERCY Two figures enveloped in the morning’s light sat upon the walls of Ghaestenwald, contemplating and conversing. It was a quiet morning, albeit the intermittent musings of a Princess and an Oracle filled the gaps of silence, spare for the occasional bird chirping. “This is where Franz died.” The Oracle said with a nod of his head, leaning forward to survey the landscape in front of them. “But, of course, I am still alive.” “. . Vy are niet Franz, then?” inquired Petra after a brief silence. “No. I am the Oracle,” stated he. Curiously, Petra pressed on. “How did Franz die, then?” “He withered away, like a flower.” mused the Oracle stoically. Alas, he continued his spiel. “Franz had a story. The Oracle does not.” “The Oracle has no story; the Oracle is a part of all stories, all but his own.” For some reason, these particular sentiments struck Petra. Glancing down at the trees below her, she drew a sharp breath. Perhaps, she felt that her story had ended, just as Franz's had. Had she withered, too? She had once been dubbed ‘the Haeseni rose in bloom,’ after all. She was bound to wither, surely. Of course, her mind began to teem with distressing thoughts such as these, another deliberative silence consequently befalling her. Once more, the Oracle broke that silence of hers. “Franz was the one who granted you your title, you know.” Petra managed the smallest of smiles at that notion despite her bleak disposition. She adored her Uncle Franz. “Was he? I always felt special, having the title ‘Duchess of Karosgrad.’ I felt I had a purpose.” “Yes. He was the one.” The Oracle simply intoned, nodding his head a few times. The Princess soon fell silent again, however, pondering in that prolonged silence of hers. Where had her purpose gone, the purpose she always craved to have? She had often confined herself to her chambers at Richtenburg, now that her son had come of age to lead their house. No longer was she at the forefront of the bustling courts, nor was she the topic of any idle chatterings and gossip amongst the courtiers. Her prime had come and gone long ago. In her mind, she only existed to feel misery, to feel regret. That was her sole purpose now, it seemed. Momentarily did the Oracle interrupt her contemplation with a particularly striking statement of his own. “Franz had a story. Does Petra Emma have a story?” “. . Petra Emma has a story, da. A rather sad story, really. One that will most likely niet have a happy ending,” Petra spoke softly, looking to the horizon before her. The sun rose upon it comfortably, yet a frigid breeze accompanied the morning sun, beckoning the Princess to tell her story. “She grew up in a bustling court full of life and expectations that she, herself, felt she could never meet. She made many friends that she would come to cherish, even though she tragically lost a few along the way.” Petra reminisced on her youth, recalling how Rosalind Amador discouraged her axe-wielding and pants-wearing escapades. She remembered befriending Abraham, the friendly Southeron boy who shielded her from the torment of Adalia de Astrea. She recalled meeting Eleanora Baruch, her best friend who always provided her a handkerchief when she cried. She recalled meeting Adrianna Barclay, too, who had sheepishly curtsied to her and stumbled over her greeting. She remembered how shy her brother Sigismund was, and how proud she felt to be his sister, too. She remembered the antics of her twin siblings, and how reckless they were in their youth. There was more she wanted to remember, but it seemed that many memories were lost to time, forgotten in her hazy, aging mind. There were many things Petra couldn’t forget, though. She couldn’t forget the angry footfalls of her father’s boots and his booming voice that scolded her when she caused a ruckus elsewhere. She could never forget the suffocating etiquette standards she was expected to uphold within the courts. Petra could never forget her grandmother, Queen Isabel, nor her mentor, Igor Kort, who were taken from the world far too soon - plaguing her with trauma that she would never quite heal from. She could never forget the way her stepmother Annika wiped Igor’s blood off of her debut dress that night, either. “Nevertheless, the Princess still frolicked in her youth. She learned medicine, in fact. She liked helping people. She even met a peasant boy whom she had come to love dearly, though eventually cast aside so that she could attend to her royal duties.” Petra opted to remember happier times, recalling the time she first met Emma Kortrevich. The shy, yet bright Kortrevich girl was someone that Petra would come to admire and cherish dearly. The two bonded over their shared love of medicine and tending to the wounded. Helping others gave her purpose, the purpose she so desperately craved. The Princess pushed on, of course, wanting to remember more of her youth, her prime. Memories of a simple peasant boy by the name of Oleksandr came flooding back to Petra at that moment. Once more, she remembered. It was a brief few encounters, yet they held great weight in her mind. She remembered their picnic, their talks in gardens, and their feelings for one another. Petra recalled that they were doomed from the start. They could never be together. Her standing in society was far more important to her, after all. She was a princess, and princesses were expected to tend to their royal duties. That was her purpose, and her purpose drove that peasant boy away. Her purpose, in this instance, had consumed her entirely. Petra did come to regret this. “She met a Baron and married him. Her father was happy with the arrangement, and thus, she was happy, too. She grew to love the Baron dearly, just as she had the peasant boy.” Petra drew another quiet breath, ruminating over the memories that all seemed to blur together. These were happier memories, at least. She fondly recalled the day she met her husband, Yvo. He shyly offered her a few cookies and a piece of jewelry, which she thought was silly at the time. The two grew closer over the few years they knew each other, sharing laughs and drinks alike in the Hunter’s Inn. Petra yearned for simpler times such as these. A soft smile found its way to Petra’s face as she remembered how nervously Yvo asked her father for her hand in marriage, the wedding dress she donned on her wedding day - her grandmother’s, and how excited she was to wear it. She reveled in these happy memories, but only for a few moments longer. “She had many children, all of whom she held dear. Her happiness was short-lived, though - far too short-lived. Her husband fell into a comatose state, leaving her with a noble house to lead and eight children to parent alone. She led for ten years before she handed the reins over to her son once he had come of age. The strain of leading, though, caused irreversible damage within her household. Her children loathed and resented her for abandoning them and prioritizing the wellbeing of the house over their own happiness.” “Petra regretted that greatly. She should have let her children be happy.” Petra could recall that she was thrilled to be a mother. She had become quite accustomed to tending to the children around Karosgrad, especially her own siblings, as she was the eldest one about. Petra could also recall that her motherhood was not an easy one. She remembered how deeply she had mourned when her husband had fallen into that coma, leaving her the burdens of parenting children alone and leading a house in his stead. She recalled the fear she felt. She remembered how alone she felt, the same loneliness she feels right now. Petra remembered that she pushed through, nevertheless. She worked tirelessly to arrange appropriate marriages for her children, all while attending the Duma to ensure that their spot was secured. The fruits of her labor rotted horrendously, however. Like mother, like daughter, Isabel had taken a liking to a common boy, causing the betrothal that Petra had arranged to fall to pieces within only months. Petra, of course, did not want to remember anymore - yet she had to finish her story. She vividly recalled the disappointment she felt in her daughter, which would lead to the downfall of her relationship with her children. Each child, slowly but surely, drove themselves away from their frantic and paranoid mother. Her children surely resented her, she thought. She believed she neglected them, all to ensure that their noble status remained. Petra now had to live with yet another regret: the regret of driving the children she loved so dearly away. “Petra's daughter, Isabel, died. Her other children are as lonely as she is and yet - she canniet find it in herself to support them. She feels as if she failed, as if she’s driven everyone away. She wonders if she served her purpose - as a mother, as a medic, as a friend. She wonders if she did enough.” “. . Did she do enough? Did Petra Emma do enough? She has regrets - far too many to withstand.” Petra fell into yet another contemplative silence, wallowing in her regret. Tears stained the Princess’s face, yet she did not seek to wipe them away. Hoarsely, she spoke yet again, desperately seeking to break such a deafening silence, to rid herself of the regret ringing in her ears. “She loved her husband. She wishes he was here to bear the burden of these regrets and heartbreaks alongside her.” Petra now seemed unable to speak any longer, letting the frigid breeze fill the lingering silence for her. Her teary-eyed gaze did not stray from the horizon, even after she had finished her story. The Oracle allowed that silence to linger for many more moments after. He too contemplated, taking note of one of her earlier sentiments regarding the regret she lived with. It saddened him, truly. He opted to break the silence, then. “There are many souls that still linger in this world. I've met my fair share of them, most of them have long died, yet they linger, tortured by regrets…” the Oracle began. “I put them into two categories: the ones who did not live long enough, those who were unable to see their goals achieved and regret not being able to do so… And those who lived too long, they've long ago accomplished everything, and lived their joy. Now, that joy is long gone, and their life falls into misery.” Upon hearing the Oracle utter such, Petra’s frame stiffened considerably. She pondered, wondering if she was doomed to a stagnant misery for the rest of her years. Another treacherous silence fell over her briefly. That silence was interrupted by a simple inquiry made by the Oracle. “Do you remember Rosalind?” “I do. Tragic, really. She passed away quite young,” Petra murmured idly, her gaze fastened onto the horizon still. A grim expression crossed the Oracle's visage as he pushed himself to stand again. He seemed more absent than he had before, as if his focus was elsewhere. Gradually, then, did his stoic demeanor begin to falter. “Rosalind was beginning to live too long. She was past her prime, past her joy….” “If I… If I had let her live any longer, she would've stayed too miserable.” The implications made by the Oracle hit her, then. The Princess, however, was at a loss for words. She could not run away, either. She was tired, after all. Their trip to Ghaestenwald was arduous, and her aging joints were weary. Despite the instinctual fear that overtook her, she could not will herself to move an inch. Perhaps she had already resigned herself to a fate similar to Rosalind's. “It was mercy, Petra.” The Oracle insisted. “I can grant you mercy, too… You won't have to linger, you can pass on, truly.” In that moment, Petra began to deliberate - not for her own sake, but for the sake of those in her life. Still, she could not urge herself to move away from the Oracle. “. . My children - my children. Don't they need me?” she weakly inquired, grasping onto something - anything, to validate her existence, her regret-ridden existence, on this plane. “Your children will move on. The world will move on.” He stated, and it held with it perhaps a bout of reassurance. The Oracle only inched closer to where Petra sat upon the wall, frozen in place. “It doesn't matter what you want, Petra. This is what has to happen.” “My brothers, Andrik and Sigismund - will they be alright?” Petra's eyes had once again begun to glisten with tears as the reality of her fate dawned upon her, yet she resigned herself to it. Her purpose was served on this plane - she had no purpose left to fulfill, not in her mind, yet she sought reassurance in her final moments. “Ana, my father, my step-mother . . .” Petra frantically listed off all of those she held dear to her, repeating quick, rapid prayers in her head. “They will be okay, with time.” The Oracle nodded his head once, assuring her once again. Fleetingly, time seemed to halt as Petra exhaled simple words that would be her last. “. . Surely - surely they'll be alright.” Then came a shove from behind, as the Oracle intended to push her off of the railing she sat upon. Just as swiftly as he had pushed her, the Princess plummeted to the grassy plains of Ghaestenwald below. The Princess Royal was dead. The Oracle gazed upon where Petra had fallen. The grim expression upon his face quickly faded, and soon, as she drifted skyward, so did his eyes. And he sighed with great relief, for now he was truly convinced that this had been right. RNASK IV PEACE PRINZENAS PETRA EMMA PRINCESS ROYAL OF HANSETI-RUSKA DUCHESS OF KAROSGRAD 365 E.S. - 409 E.S. | 1812 - 1856
  2. Princess Petra, aging and ailing, sat within the guest chambers of the Nikirala Prikaz, tear-stained and weary. She could not bear to live at Richtenburg any longer, not with the painful memories she associated with the place. She wondered when the pain, loss and suffering would stop. When would her stagnant soul find peace? Her brother, and now her own daughter, were stolen from her. Weakly, the Princess did then chuckle at something she had once said many years ago. It still held its former weight. "Godan takes, and takes, and takes." Petra begged for Godan to take her next in this moment. She missed Isabel - so much, in fact, that the pain was almost unbearable. All of their shouting matches, disagreements, and scuffles - she missed it all. How she had taken it all for granted, she thought.
  3. VE HAUCHNASK FANYMAT THE GREATEST CATCH PENNED 12TH OF TOV AG YERMEY, 408 E.S. VA VE EDLERVIK, Winter is coming to an end, and the rivers, ponds, lakes, and oceans of our Kingdom have finally begun to thaw. As the waters unveil themselves to us once again, so do the creatures that live within. Fishermen from the likes of Valwyck and Reinmar once again hurry to their rods, spending many hours a day angling for the bounty of the lakes. But these fishermen shall not be left alone, for the Duke of Valwyck has rented his docks and allowed the Queen’s Council to hold a fishing competition in Lake Voron! The event shall be a simple one, those participating shall gather upon the docks of Valwyck by Lake Voron, then boats and fishing rods shall be distributed to those partaking. They shall then sail out into the lake for a set period of time, and they who catch the most fish and bring them ashore with them shall be declared the winner. The winner shall receive a prize sum of 150 mina. FORMAL INVITATIONS ARE EXTENDED TO THE HAESENI PEERAGE: His Royal Majesty, Sigismund III, King of Hanseti and Ruska and his royal pedigree @Xarkly His Grace, Rhys var Ruthern, Duke of Vidaus and his noble pedigree @Nolan_ His Grace, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck and his noble pedigree @Gusano His Grace, Johann Barclay, Duke of Reinmar and his noble pedigree @Frymark The Right Honourable, Vladrik Kortrevich, Count of Jerovitz and his noble pedigree @Endershadow292 The Honourable, Isaak Amador, Viscount of Aurveldt and their noble pedigree @Pureimp10 His Royal Highness, Otto Morovar, Baron of Ghaestenwald and his noble pedigree @Mio The Honourable, Johann Ludovar, Baron of Otistadt and his noble pedigree @Raijen Stars The Honourable, Sigmar Mondblume, Baron of Richtenburg and his noble pedigree @AmazingAzura SIGNED, HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Emma Karenina, Queen-Consort of Hanseti-Ruska HIS EXCELLENCY, Eirik Baruch, Duke of Valwyck, Lord Palatine of Hanseti-Ruska HER GRACE, Marie Ruthern, Duchess-Consort of Vidaus, Lady Chamberlain of the Royal Courts of Hanseti-Ruska Event will be held January 18th @ 4:30 PM EST | 9:30 PM GMT
  4. Marie sighs, immensely disappointed in her son. The Duchess was deemed a snack maker for the children of the Kingdom, apparently.
  5. As the gates of the Seven Skies opened to reveal her oldest and dearest friend, Robert, a woman in blue rose to her feet with a renewed vigor that she once had when they were both children. Amicia smiled then, those bright eyes of hers widening in surprise as she stepped forward to greet the man whose soul had just found its way into the afterlife. Pausing, she searched for the right words to say, but she found herself to be at a loss. She had heard Robert’s anguished cries of pain, shouts of jubilation, witnessed all of his sorrows, all of his joys, and more, for she had passed far earlier than he. Thus, she heard all the words he wanted to tell her, but could not when they were both alive. Amicia was a simple woman - she had always been a simple woman, so she resigned herself to simple words. “I forgave you, Robbie. I forgave you long ago.” Marie sat within her chambers at Vidaus, reminiscing upon the interactions she’d had with her father throughout her life. Some, admittedly, were hardly pleasant. The girl had come to resemble her father in a multitude of ways, bearing both his stubborn disposition and fiery temper. …As such, the two butted heads. Frequently, at that. Despite this, she could not come to resent her father, even whilst she ruminated on every petty insult, argument, or disagreement they’d found themselves wrapped up in. She respected him greatly in the end, she’d decided. He was a good father, despite some decisions he had made in his life. He was not the perfect father that Marie had wanted him to be, but he did what was necessary to secure her future. For that, she was thankful. She knew of the love that he had for his family, even if he did not always express it properly. Perhaps that’s why Marie was mourning now. “Ea just wanted to make vy proud, Papej. Ea hope vy are proud.”
  6. Marie, donning black garbs befitting only of a Duchess, hastily turned to pen a response to her dear friend Margot. It was odd, for as she wrote, she bore a neutral expression. The tear stains on her face, illuminated by only the dim glow of a candle sat atop her desk, were the sole indication that she felt any emotions regarding the recent passing of her father. "My dear friend Margot, I appreciate your words and condolences. I am not quite sure how to cope with the loss of a parent yet, though I'm sure, over tea, perhaps, you could empathize with me over such. Let us talk soon. Marie" @Mady
  7. An aging and ailing Princess Petra Emma wailed from within the Barony of Richtenburg, clutching the missive that informed her of her brother’s death tightly to her chest. She was irrevocably inconsolable.
  8. Moda i ve Kort Published under the Mistress of the Wardrobe 12th of Tov ag Yermey, 407 E.S. PENNED BY THE HANDS OF HER GRACE, MARIE LORRAINE RUTHERN AND MISS AMELYA EVELOT COLORS AND THEIR RESPECTIVE SYMBOLISMS IN THE ROYAL COURTS OF HANSETI-RUSKA A depiction of a Prinzenas donning red for her Hauchmetvas. VA VE EDLERVIK, Since the revival of Ruskan fashion during Koenas Annika’s reign, and the birth of it brought about by Duchess-consort Ingrid Barclay, the color of a lady’s clothing has held great significance within the Courts of Hanseti-Ruska. Subsequently, any considerate lady of the courts should want to understand what meaning her attire holds. A key element in that meaning is the hue of her garbs, which may bear many underlying hints to a lady’s noble, marital, or even emotional status. As written by Koenas Annika: “Colors which people often wear speak a message to those around the wearer and can represent a multitude of things.” Haeseni fashion has since then risen to unprecedented peaks. As such, Prinzenas Nikoleta and her assistants, under the caring gaze of Her Majesty, Koenas Emma, shall dutifully honour the beloved legacy of Ruskan fashion by pursuing the regulation and restoration of fashion principles to energize the Haeseni Courts once more. Without further ado, we present Moda i ve Kort: the colors and their meanings within Hanseti-Ruskan fashion. This document is an essential read for any lady of the Courts. RED Donning the color red bears a multitude of symbolisms, though the primary ones are passion and love. This color also symbolizes an openness to courtship, hence why all Haeseni debuts wear it on their fourteenth name day, or Hauchmetvas. Brighter reds, however, are reserved for younger women who are seeking courtships and marriages, while darker reds and wine-like colors are reserved for married women so that they may represent their devotion to their spouses through their chosen attire. Should an older woman be seen donning brighter shades of red, it would be deemed inappropriate and shameful. For the men of Haense, the color red does not hold as much meaning within their wardrobes. It may symbolize strength or devotion to their spouse, though the shades of red they find themselves wearing, bright or dark alike, share these universal meanings. Haeseni men are allowed more leverage; all shades of red are appropriate for them to wear. ORANGE Adorning the color orange signifies determination and ambition. It provokes these feelings from the hopefulness of yellow and passion of red to create the perfect shade of combined sensations. Most frequently worn by those within the upper classes, it is meant to be honored by its symbolism of resilience and determination. Orange also displays a possessed strength both mentally and physically through its vibrance. Since orange dye is a luxury in clothing from its rare ingredients, those who wear it show a much higher degree of wealth. An individual donning this color would most certainly be deemed an ambitious individual, and one not to be interfered with, either. YELLOW Wearing the color yellow displays a yearning for hope or friendship primarily. Should one be seen wearing yellow at a ball or an outing of some kind, it would symbolize the wearer’s desire for friendship. Additionally, donning yellow can symbolize hopeful tidings, hope for one’s good health, etcetera. The color yellow, in these circumstances, serves as a beacon for the desire of friendship and hope for the future of the person that wears it, essentially. Alternatively, this color may also demonstrate a state of mourning. Particularly, those who adorn themselves with a single yellow accessory, such as a flower pinned atop one’s shirt or dress, would be perceived as mourning. Aside from mourning, yellow may also be paired with black during any occasion, as those are the two national colors of Hanseti-Ruska. GREEN Dressing oneself in green may exhibit many characteristics of the wearer, such as one’s wealth, desire for fertility, or love of nature and the outdoors. Green is quite an attractive color in the courts, for those who wear it may be presenting a green-thumb, an exuberant amount of wealth, or even their own pregnancy and impending motherhood. It is also considered to be quite the lucky color, especially for expecting mothers, as many are seen wearing it during or around the birth of their child since the color itself symbolizes fertility. Should any lady of the courts expect a pregnancy, they would most certainly don green apparel for good luck regarding the birth and well-being of their child. BLUE Wearing blue attire is very common among all the classes but still shares many distinct meanings. Blue often signifies someone with a broadened imagination, strong confidence, and a gracefulness to them. The different shades of blue can often dictate its meaning from the affordability of each recipe. A muted or dull blue suits the lower class while a rich or deep blue is only befitting of those that come from royal and upper class nobility. The color blue also exhibits truth, as many partners wear it as a sign of fidelity or faithfulness. PURPLE The adornment of the color purple establishes one’s royal or high noble status within the courts due to its symbolism of regality and luxury. Since the dye required to make purple garbs is quite rare, queens, princesses, and those from ducal families should be the only ones wearing this lavish shade. Otherwise, it would be deemed improper, pretentious, or even rude for someone of a lower class to adorn themselves with this hue. There are exceptions, of course, as those who bear magic in the courts may also wear this shade regardless of their status. Due to the color’s underlying meanings of mysticism and wonder, mages and the like are free to wear purple in the courts should they choose to do so. These rules do not apply to lighter shades of purple, however. Adorning oneself with shades of lilacs and lavender are permissible amongst the lower nobility, and can symbolize the youth and purity of the wearer. PINK Those who showcase the color pink in their apparel express delicate youth and purity, similarly to lighter shades of purple. Pink can be adorned by any class but should not be worn by married women. It would be deemed highly inappropriate if a married woman wore pink as it would be implied that she was wedded but also a child. Moreover, a combination of red and white’s symbolisms are also exhibited when one adorns oneself with shades of pink, in which love, purity, and innocence are expressed. Pink is most often donned by children, but can be worn by anyone of any class if they are unwed. BLACK Should one don black as the primary color of their outfit, it would symbolize that they are in a state of mourning. It is important to note, however, that this color should not be worn outside of mourning unless the wearer is a clergy member. Doing so would indicate that the wearer is of holy status when they are not, which would be deemed improper within the courts. This rule does not apply to accents, though; black accents are appropriate with any garb. Further, black and yellow may be paired together, since these are the national colors of Hanseti-Ruska as previously mentioned. Since the color black is most frequently worn by members of the clergy, this color also symbolizes piety and wisdom, of which all clergy members should possess. Occasionally, the color black may also embody one’s power as well. WHITE The color white is the primary symbol of purity, innocence, and holiness within the Hanseti-Ruskan courts. Adorning oneself with it could imply a plethora of symbolisms, such as a purity and devotion to Godan, hence why it is often worn on religious holidays and wedding days. However, it is crucial to note that it would be considered inappropriate to adorn white as the primary color of an outfit unless it is a religious holiday or the wearer’s wedding day in particular. On the contrary, wearing white as an accent is entirely appropriate and can serve as a symbolism of one’s innocence, purity, and love for Canonism. BROWN Dressing in brown has the least amount of significance with its representation of simplicity. It is one of the most affordable colors to wear, seen regularly among the lower classes. The color lacks much of its symbolism through its earthy tone that's easiest to obtain. If someone of the upper class is seen wearing brown, it shows humility through their lack of lavish and rich colors. When brown fabric is utilized in one’s attire, it is most often seen in tunics, cloaks, or girdles instead. FINAL REMARKS Acknowledging what each color in one’s garb symbolizes is an essential part to understanding Hanseti-Ruskan fashion and courtly etiquette. Not only may it start a cordial conversation, but it properly exhibits one’s status in the presence of the Royal family and within the courts, which is, of course, common courtesy. It should be noted that the colors that may be deemed inappropriate for casual wear (such as purple, depending on the wearer’s status), can be donned if it is part of a wearer’s family colors or crest, but at family events only for the purpose of exhibiting family pride. This is the only occasion when such is appropriate; otherwise, the lords and ladies of the courts should practice etiquette and awareness with the colors of their attire. With the revival of fashion etiquette and color symbolisms, the Mistress of the Wardrobe and her assistants shall continue to dutifully ensure that these standards of fashion are upheld within the courts. SIGNED, HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Queen Emma Karenina, Countess of Reza HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Princess Nikoleta Barbara, Duchess-Consort of Akovia Mistress of the Wardrobe HER GRACE, Marie Lorraine Ruthern, Duchess-Consort of Vidaus Lady Chamberlain of the Royal Courts of Hanseti-Ruska Miss Amelya Evelot Ward to the Mistress of the Wardrobe
  9. Marie Ruthern, the current Duchess of Vidaus, found herself in a whirlwind of turmoil as soon as the news of her father-in-law’s death reached her. Firetly, she had placed a hand upon her husband's shoulder gently, trying to pry him into opening up about something - anything, though she could hardly provide any comfort. She had not yet experienced the loss of a parent, though Ailred certainly felt like one to her. Marie then found herself within the basilica later on. She promptly lowered her head into her hands as she sat upon a pew, dabbing at her teary eyes - only momentarily, as she then found herself holding a crying Angelika within her grasp soon thereafter. She would now have to bear the responsibility of Ailred's youngest children: she felt it was her duty, perhaps. "Ea'll watch vyr girls, Ser Ailred - ea promise vy."
  10. thank you for your service, soldier o7 godspeed.
  11. Amicia smiled as her father finally found his way into the Seven Skies. "Papa - you're finally home now. I've missed you so."
  12. Isabel Baruch continues her screaming. “GLORY T’ WHALEVYCK, GLORY T’ WHALEVYCK!”
  13. DECLERAYSHIN OF INDAWPENDENS A depiction of HER GRACE, Grand Duchess Isabel Alexandra Baruch of WHALEVYCK The missive would be crudely written. It was evident a child wrote it, as many words were misspelled and the handwriting was far from neat. FAR TO LONG has the teeranicall raign of HOONSE lasted! We shood have a voice and a say in our govarnmant. The DUCHYES shood have free raign over their peepul. Sergei kind of smells, and I don’t want to be in Hoonse if he rules, so I am declering INDAWPENDENS. In WHALEVYCK, we will make whale noises and go FISHEENG and none of the stinky adults or mean Hoonse rulers will stop us. If any Hoonse subjects want to leave their steenky kingdoom and join a COOL duchy where we make whale noises, WHALEVYCK is the place to be! (P.S., Matyas is my knight and Margrait is my assestant if she says aye.) SIGNED, HER GRACE, THE GRAND DUCHESS OF WHALEVYCK,
  14. Grand Duchess Isabel of Whalevyk promptly began to pen a response. "EJA LAURITZ YOU CAN COME STAY IN WHALEVYK IT'S VERY WARM AND WE HAVE WHALES." Signed, Her Grace, Grand Duchess Isabel of Whalevyk.
  15. One Isabel Baruch screamed, frantic as she ran around the palace. "DROP YER WEAPONS - DROP THEM!"
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