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| Methinks the lady doth protest too much...; Anne Boleyn | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2011, 09:50 PM (464 Views) | |
| Francois de Valois | Apr 12 2011, 09:50 PM Post #1 |
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(Spring 1510) Seventeen year old Francois de Valois, known mostly as Monsieur le Prince and called Monsieur de Valois, was having a rather exceptional night. The young man was easily the tallest man in the kingdom, let alone in the room, and he was still growing despite the fact that he was nearly six and a half feet tall. He had dark locks of wavy hair that was short and yet framed his face well, seeming to enlarge his chocolatey eyes. Wearing a grand doublet of deep, dark red with gold accents and piping, he moved easily through the crowds. The older, and taller, he had gotten the more he noticed the change in those around him as they prepared to one day accept him as their king. Francois was His Majesty's first cousin once removed and his closest male-line relative. Soon, he would marry King Louis' daughter which would only further solidify the matter. He hardly wished to be king. The life of being Monsieur le Prince was quite grand, and he would not have minded holding that position indefinitely if his cousin managed a son; however, that seemed increasingly less likely. Sighting one of his other cousins with a group of his other favourites, he made his way over toward Guy, but was suddenly distracted. He was suddenly distracted by a vision of a woman with large, expressive eyes unlike most French women. Ahh yes, was that not the daughter of the ambassador from England? She made a pretty figure dancing. Pretty indeed. He must know her. He knew that she must have been at court for some time as the ambassador had been there for some time, and he wondered why he had not yet noticed her; he must chastise his friends and gentlemen for not directing him to her earlier. They were slacking in their duties! Bold in his ways because of his position, Francois walked right over to them and gave the man a brief nod, continuing in French, "Monsieur de Foix, Comminges is looking for you." He said it sweetly, but Foix would know he was lying and that was part of the grandeur of it for Francois. He offered his hand to the lady with a gracious nod and a confident smile that housed a bit of a smirk. "Enchante, Mademoiselle, might I volunteer myself to continue as your dance partner?" Already stepping to move to the music, because she could not slight him - it was simply not done - he leaned in toward her ear during a turn in the music where it was appropriate, "You are English, yes? What is your name, ma belle?" (hope this set up is ok with the year and with her dancing, if not I'll edit) |
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| Anne Boleyn | Apr 16 2011, 11:09 AM Post #2 |
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France! Why would one ever want to leave, especially when they served the glorious French court? It was vibrant and lush and festive at all times of the year -- Why would one ever want to return to a gray and dreary place like the court of England? Anne Boleyn had been at the French court for more than half a decade, and though she was English by birth, she would be perfectly content to never return to England. Why return to a veritable convent when one could spend the rest of their days at a glorious banquet and masque? If Anne could help it, she would stay. Any thought of England was far from her mind as she giggled with her friends and the gentlemen who had joined them, chalices of wine in their hands as they looked over the handsome youths and young men that were plenty in the French court. Anne was eighteen, and in her years at the French court, her personality and wit had come to be beloved by some and hated by others. The brunette did not care, for she was a proud thing, and rightfully so with a boastful lineage of Howards and Boleyns. Whether a person loved her or hated her did not matter; Anne had become skilled shining brightly with even the dimmest of audiences at the French court. The gown she wore this evening was one of her favorite due the the fact it was yellow (Anne was very fond of yellow). The sleeves were not long and flowy, for Anne didn't want them to get in the way when she danced, and the skirt opened up to reveal beautiful gold and white damask underneath. Her matching round hood kept her tide of dark hair out of her face. As a young man in tight hose walked by, one of the gentlemen remarked upon then, causing the young woman to laugh gaily, her eyes flashing with merriment. How she absolutely adored it here! Her eyes turned to the crowd and, without any trouble, Anne was able to pick out easily the tallest person in the room as he began crossing toward them. Anne, of course, knew who he was, how couldn't she? He was the cousin of the French King and heir presumptive at the moment. When he reached the group, Anne set her chalice down upon the table and curtsied for Monsieur le Prince, rising with a soft but pleasant smile on her lips. His invitation was surprising, but not altogether undeserved in Anne's eye, and she kept her expression calm. "Of course, Monsieur de Valois." The French came from her tongue as though she were a native speaker, and she bobbed her head demurely, turning back to give a look to her friends as the prince led to the dance floor. Anne could feel her chest swelling with pride, and it was not hard to maintain the simple pleasant smile upon her lips. Anne Boleyn, dancing with Francois de Valois -- She hoped that Mary saw her! "I am, Monsieur le Prince." Anne replied to his question with a smile as the two parted due to the dance, only to rejoin again. She waited for a moment before revealing her name. "My name is Anne Boleyn, and I serve Madame." She smiled again, the joy reaching her eyes. They joined again in the dance, and Anne asked, "Do you favor dancing, Monsieur le Prince? I find it quite thrilling." |
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| Francois de Valois | Apr 17 2011, 09:26 AM Post #3 |
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The yellow, it was like the sun! Francois felt warmed by it, and it made her skin glow, and her eyes like sapphires. Francois, having been heavily influenced by his mother being a constant presence in his life, saw art and beauty very easily. He was a true humanist prince, a patron of arts, and he worshiped on his knees to many a lady. He made no apologies for it. Francois was who he was, and he had been told all his life that his most singularly important task for France was to have children. Everyone expected him to express his sexuality and many courtiers, strangely enough, delighted in it as if his bedding frequently signaled some victory for France. He was, then, a very victorious man. The mere thought of it made him chuckle haughtily with a graceful allure. Francois hung onto her words as they moved along in song. He noticed the eyes on them, but he was very used to such things. He had been in the public eye since he was four years old. So she was English, even if she spoke very good French. "Anne Boleyn," he repeated, smiling slightly. "I do favor dancing very much, but I hear that the English do not dance as well as here from my cousin. Do you agree, Mademoiselle?" he asked, as they parted ways once more. He wondered if he should ask his half-breed cousin about this lady he was dancing with. Perhaps they knew each other. "I have never been to England, myself, and I do not think I would wish to go. It is a dreary place." He made a bit of a face of distaste and then took her hand once more with a smile. "You seem to thrive here, no?" His large brown eyes cast off over the crowds for a moment, as if to take in anybody watching them at their dance. "Ahhh ha, Monsieur Guy, do not you get any devices on my sweet sister, or I will have to challenge you to a dancing duel!" he called out jovially, as his sister and cousin passed next to them. His sweet older sister had always fancied the other man, safe thing that, because Comminges or some of the others were assuredly less noble. His eyes looked back down at his lovely partner, his voice dripping with honey, he said, "If you would be up for it, Mademoiselle Anne; perhaps I should not threaten before I am ready to deliver, eh?" he chuckled, tilting his head back and then giving her a wink. Feigning, he made a stink eye at the other dance couple. Mischief in his face, he said, "I wonder, what would be the punishment for the defeated and the reward for the victor? Those should be terms I settle before opening my mouth, I know. I confess, sometimes, I am quite eager. I do believe you English take it as arrogant." |
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| Anne Boleyn | Apr 18 2011, 07:38 PM Post #4 |
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Anne basked in attention; it was something that made life worth living in her opinion, and so the natural straying of eyes to both this English maid and the heir presumptive made her that much more calculated in her movements. It did not show, but she ensured that her dancing was as though performed by a master, and perhaps if she extended her leg just so so that a glance of ankle could be revealed, it could have an impressive effect. Of course, if anyone pointed it out, Anne would just bat her eyes demurely and apologize for her unknowing error. It was in these careful ways that seeds were planted in the minds of men that could bloom into something even more beneficial. Monsieur le Prince, while being such a man of high station and royal blood, would alone warrant such actions. But not only was this man royal, no, he was a handsome, beautiful and tall youth with dark alluring eyes. This made Anne's smile quite natural and never forced -- the gazes of he as well as others was enough to put a proud swell in her breast. Anne nodded as she pulled away in the dance from the Prince. "I do agree." She said as she circled around to rejoin the man, joining hands in dance for but a brief moment. "While I shall always be English, I do find that my people lack such grace and charm in such beautiful art forms as dance." Compared to the French Court, which was certainly a jewel, the English Court was like a doused torch -- sooty and dark. "I believe that England's soil would brighten up once your foot touched it, Monsieur le Prince." Anne said, such words flowing from her lips easily and lacking any smack of vain flattery. His comment about Anne's prosperous existence at the French Court made the dark-haired woman's pride swell even more. It showed two things -- either the Prince had paid enough attention to her to notice such prosper, or he could gather that quickly. Both were traits Anne would value. "It is true, Monsieur. Though I was born in England, I have never felt more at home than here in this glittering court." And she hoped to perhaps never leave it. Would wanted to go back to the sty that was the English Court? Laughter trickled from her throat as Francois called out to her cousin, and her cobalt eyes turned to the Prince, smiling genuinely with her laughter. Her lips continued to curve, and after the Prince spoke to her, she replied, "I am sure that Monsieur de Valois would always be ready to follow up such words, especially in the case of your own sister." Chivalry, didn't all men have it? Anne would hope so, especially in the case of a Prince. "Not arrogant, Monsieur, but simply zealous to do such good to your own name and that of your family. It is a trait I fear many men do not have today, both on and off of the continent." Her lips pressed together in ardent thought as the dance continued, and she once again parted from the Prince. When she returned, she said, "Whatever the reward and the punishment might be, it must be worth losing. A beloved jewel, the favor of a lady... It is almost the same thing, oui?" |
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| Francois de Valois | Apr 19 2011, 09:24 AM Post #5 |
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Francois was happy that when he was a married man, he was expected to have mistresses, because it was jewels like these that would never allow him monogamy. No, he was well-aware that his eyes would be tempted, and he was pleased that he was not marrying King Louis' daughter for yet some time. He did not miss the subtleties of how she moved her body, and he knew that she had assuredly learned some lessons well in France. She had that delicate finery of suggestive movement that toyed with the senses. And her eyes, her eyes! Sang Dieu, how they danced and teased as well! "Do they have other graces and charms?" he asked, quirking a brow with a smile. He watched keenly as she moved around him. His eyes going this was and that, to take in her splendors. "I admit, I only much know one from England, and he was born and lived in France and is half-French. From what I have seen and heard, they are prudish whilst being brutish with their manner and deportment." Women, to Francois, always seemed to like the French, and he took full advantage of that fact. There were often visitors to their court. "Oh, how delightful, how you brim with feminine charms, my dear! You do know what they say about French men, that they compliment every lady too freely...perhaps you have been learning much in France, or is it English ladies that play that role in England?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused. Francois was quite certain that England, the rainy place, would infinitely improve if he were there. Alas, he had lost any desire to see the place or visit it when Guillaume had come back to his proper court; why would he wish to go now? "You shall stay for some while then. I wish it," he said, flirtatiously, instead of with just command in his tone. Turning his attentions to the twirlings of his sister, taking her fill of Guillaume. She was growing brazen with her age. What was she now, eighteen or nineteen? He did not know. It was very good he loved them both, because he found this nothing but amusing. Too bad they could not marry, his mother would drop dead from that, because that would make Margot very happy, obviously. It would make Francois very happy. The man was already like a brother. But no, Francois understood too well what sort of hindrances came with birth. Even if he thought they would make a handsome couple. "I can only stand behind my words with a willing lady, Mademoiselle Anne; I would sure not abscond with you to the attention of everyone, Mon Dieu!" he gave her a wink. "And my sister is in good hands. I like to tease her of her affections. She has favoured him since my earliest memories." He chuckled a bit. Yes, his sister favoured Guy, always had, and would likely cry at her marriage for losing him for certain. A thought that made Francois let out a huff of a snort of amusement. "Ahh, bella, not many men have sisters like I, and not many men appreciate a woman like the French. They are a dynamic piece of art, no? Like masterstrokes of a great painter coming to life." He ran a finger lightly from under her ear down her jawbone to her chin, where he only moved his hand precisely as they turned. "Oui, oui, absolument, let us see, yes?" As their song end, he clapped loudly. "Ho! My musicians. We shall have something else." Smirking a bit, he turned to his cousin and his sister. "Monsieur Guy de Pardiac and I shall have contest, for our honor and that of our respective ladies, as we surely cannot settle our many differences by sword." He broke into a smile as some of the courtiers started chuckling and tittering at his joke. Monsieur Guy was his favourite, with Monsieur Gaston. "Monsieur Guy, what shall be the victor's reward. A jewel? Or perhaps we should just embarrass the conquered? What do you say?" |
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| Anne Boleyn | Apr 20 2011, 09:29 AM Post #6 |
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A pleasant look had taken hold of Anne's face -- it wasn't quite one of amusement, nor was it one of flirtation. Every feature, however, was looking completely satisfied from the small smile on her lips, the way her eyes flashed with each movement and seemed to beckon those it fell upon to come closer. Anne had learn that the more subtle movements of coercion often worked the very best, and carried a class and elegance never associated with the blatant flirtation of those lesser women. "They do make me laugh." Anne whispered, smiling as though to confirm what she just said. And it was true, she had laughed much in her youth, but many English were fools in all ways -- religion, society, intelligence. What could they do but make Anne laugh? A dark brow arched as the prince began to speak of someone, and the woman was sure he knew who the Prince spoke of. "Is Monsieur le Prince speaking of William Spencer?" Anne asked, intrigued and pleased. "He and I are friends, and I am quite thankful for it. I would be hard pressed not to agree with Monsieur on such a matter, though it might pain me to admit such about my own countrymen." Honestly, Anne didn't care. France was her home right now, God forbid she should be sent back to England any time soon. "Monsieur, how you make me blush!" Anne laughed, though her complexion lacked a rosy tint. She basked in such words from the royal, and her smile widened. "Any charms I may have is certainly the product of my time spent here in France, Monsieur de Valois. Back in England, I fear I would never had such a possession of my faculties, nor such a beautiful time in doing so." It was in France that ladies were not strictly bound in their actions. While appropriate actions and behavior were still expected, certain activity that was more liberal in execution was not immediately branded with dishonor or shame. And while Anne would never do anything to compromise herself, she could still enjoy her life in France as wanted. Instead of replying to his statement that Anne should stay longer, the woman merely smiled and looked up at the tall man with grateful hooded eyes. Actions said much more than words, and vain declarations of gratitude and humility would not do much for Anne. She wasn't quite sure what she thought of this feather in her hat for the moment, but being in the heir presumptive's favor and caught in his gaze was much preferable than anything else at the moment. Perhaps she could go so far as to be more, but that would take careful maneuvers, among other things. She laughed in return to Francois' fierce declaration and nodded. Chivalrous indeed, but a woman who didn't want chivalry was not in need of it, and she could relate with the torment of siblings. She and Mary would tease one another often, it was a show of affection. "How can one argue with such poetry from your tongue, Monsieur le Prince?" Oh, French men were always quick with flattery and adoration. A lesser woman would be knocked off her feet and into bed with a single syllable of the amorous people, but not Anne Boleyn. That would not stop her from enjoying it, though, and especially the simple but wonderful sensation that the Prince's finger caused as it traced down her jawbone. Her simple gaze from her cobalt eyes said more than words as she looked up at Francois, hooded cobalt eyes allowing what she felt to be seen, but never in a way that would leave her vulnerable. If anything, it was an animalistic gaze still restrained by propriety and Anne's respect for herself and expectations of the man before her. The pride that had been swelling within her breast crescendo-ed greatly as the music stopped and the Prince called for something else, somewhat of a joustful dance to be had between cousins. It would not be for their own honor, accomplishment, and reward, but that of the ladies they danced with. She turned her eyes Monsieur Guy, smiling widely, as those assembled waited for his answer. "Surely, whatever the reward it should be worth the effort. Something sweet, perhaps, and succulent to slake the thirst that shall surely arise from such exertion, and please the ladies as well." |
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| William Spencer | Apr 20 2011, 01:06 PM Post #7 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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Twenty-one year old William Spencer, had been back in France since late in 1508, and when he had originally come back to what he saw as his home, it had been far more difficult than it was now. He had been gone about seven years between Italy with the French armies as his uncle's attendant and then moving himself to England. Then his grandfather Wilmington had sent him away, a familial exile; although not disowned or disinherited, he was shamed and had absolutely no money and no hope of his grandfather restoring his allowances whilst he was in his grandfather's disfavor. It was not the situation any nineteen year old, who had always at least been well-provided for in luxury, wished to be in. Thankfully, as one of the king's godsons and an Anjou, all he had to do was go through the formalities of begging for his place back, and King Louis was more than happy to welcome him back with open arms. His uncle and his grandfather were both desirous to see him thrive back in France, and saw it as likely he would stay there indefinitely, increasing their influence, so both were happy to extend him generous allowances too. That situation had fast transformed into the life he had always hoped to have as a boy. He was a gentleman of Monsieur le Prince's household, and one of his two favourites, and he was one of the few cupbearers to the king. All he had to do was be dutiful, congenial, intelligent, and entertaining. He hardly even needed to try and do those things! It was in this spirit of free and privileged happiness that William, known in France as Guillaume or Guy, the Comte de Pardiac, found himself dancing with Mademoiselle Margot, Francois' elder sister. "Francois is taunting me Margot, you see what a horrid friend he is?" he said to his dance partner with a flashing smile, as he did not miss a beat of dance. "And flirts shamelessly with all my friends, how am I to compete?" he joked. This was something he knew he would never have in England. He had grown up with Francois and Margot, and that is what they were to him. They had shared everything as children. Both of their mothers were widowed young and were the closest friends. Guy had shared beds with them. He would never have that guarantee of a pleasurable life of privilege and affection in England. "Monsieur de Valois, Mademoiselle and I are fully prepared to meet any such challenge. We will see our differences settled with a flourish of the hand instead of sword," he chuckled right along as Margot giggled, putting a hand to her mouth as they ended the song. He was not surprised when Francois wanted to carry through with it. Francois had to be one of the most ostentatious princes you would ever think to find, and he was French. It was a grand combination that produced much entertainment and 'scandal'. Guy had been drawn into some very interesting things by the behest of the undeterred, unabashed, unrepentant, and hedonistic Monsieur le Prince. Guy eyed Anne, a good friend of his actually, which made it rather surprising that she had never shared a dance with Francois. They surely had been in the same small groups together before, and he was sure they must have spoken. She seemed quite pleased. He had noticed her face as she had danced with his cousin. Her words made a mischievous grin cross his face. He gave her a gracious nod, "A Volta, then? And the reward, well Mademoiselle Anne, those sorts of rewards are best left for speculation, yes? Mademoiselle Margot suggests a kiss for the victor, is that succulent enough? I will sweeten it with a case of my best vintage from Isle d'Jourdain. And I will increase your bet by laying out the loser kneel to the supremacy of the victor." Everything he did with Francois had high and often ridiculous stakes. Onlookers would say that the two cousins were kneeling and kissing each other hands almost constantly from the defeat in such amusements. In front of the entire Great Hall? Well that was something indeed! |
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| Francois de Valois | Apr 20 2011, 02:01 PM Post #8 |
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Francois' eyes light as he realized Anne knew Guillaume. If she was friends with Guy, then she would be his friend as well. There was no questions of it. "Absolument, although, I prefer the French. His name in English does not sound so well, nor his English title, what is it? Dorchester. Mon Dieu, it is a good thing he has come home to France, no?" Francois chuckled more. "Ma Guillaume, so much better here, I think." How could it not be? The prince danced lightly on his feet, holding his tall frame which such poise and grace, such that nobody could help but notice him. He was a future king to be proud of, for sure. "A blush! Mademoiselle, dare I say, I am very proficient at making ladies blush," he flirted, suggestively. He had been inundated with the world of sexuality almost since he was born. Such was the life of a prince, for his prime life task was producing sons, and with Salic Law, that was always the thing most worried on by all surrounding the monarch or heir presumptive. He had been talking about the affairs of the bedchamber and how they went and what he was expect to do since he was three or four. Such things were not taboo in France, especially for a prince. "And now you flatter my country. You are quite charming yourself, ma fleur Anglais." Soon enough the song was over and it seemed that Guy was amenable to the challenge, which he always was amenable to challenges. A man could not ask for a better friend and companion. "A flourish of the hand, so deadly!" he grinned and flashed Anne a smile. "A worthy opponent you are, Monsieur. I would be the prime example of my countrymen's skills, of France, though, so prepare for your defeat," he said, haughtily, with a smile on his lips and amusement in his eyes. "A Volta? That agrees with me, if Mademoiselle Anne agrees." He had to chuckle at Guy for out and out pointing out the innuendo in the lady's question. Succulent! Yes, that was best left for his more private rooms with his friends. "Your terms are...presumptuous but agreeable, Monsieur. If my sister wishes the victor show his appreciation and service to his lady, then so he will. I am that confident in all matters." He gave his friend a gracious nod, sweeping his hand. "You will soon find yourself on your knees, my half-breed cousin!" He let out a loud, good-naturedly laugh and turned to the musicians. "A Volta, à présent!" He commanded. The King was not out tonight, so it was his Great Hall. He would take full advantage. "Monsieur will have that half of the floor, and Monseigneur D'Amboise shall judge! Will you not mon ami Cardinal?" he asked the older gentleman. "For we know a man of God shall not lie." He took up his position, ready to see what Mademoiselle Anne would bring him in way of a spirited Volta. Guillaume had the benefit of a partner he was practiced with, as those two had learned to dance with each other. Sang Dieu, but did he have confidence in this English flower as the dance started. |
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| Anne Boleyn | Apr 26 2011, 10:02 PM Post #9 |
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"English is rough on the tongue, I do admit, but we are smooth on the lips." The dark haired woman would leave the interpretation to what that mean up to the prince. She had learned long ago that mystique was the key to the artly way of women. Mystery and items left up to interpretation could foster the seeds of a man's fascination much easier than laying everything out in the open. Where was the fun in that? "Guillaume and I seem to be cut of the same English cloth, but perhaps by French scissors." Anne laughed, for it was true -- she was English, but the French were shaping her into the woman she was becoming. Monsieur le Prince obviously knew the same, as one could certainly interpret his words about the blush of a woman in several ways. The woman's blue eyes looked up slowly at the man that towered above her, the blush fading into her complexion as she did so. "I have no doubt of your skill, Monsieur le Prince." She could say such things, but she would not become another conquest, no. Mary might enjoy such endeavors, but Anne never would. When it came to the life, Anne would not be content with a slice. It was all or nothing, and so far she seemed to be making good with such thoughts. His English flower. She did not object to that in the least, simply smiling at the man in return. Anne turned towards William as he spoke up, asserting in a very chivalrous manner his preparation in such things. The woman couldn't help but smile, her gaze flickering between the Prince and the Englishman as they spoke. Anne was, once more, quite aware of the eyes being set upon her in such a position, and she drank it up without moving a muscle out of place. Yes, yes, Anne Boleyn, the younger of the two English sisters, was to be the dance partner of Monsieur le Prince in what was just a game of sorts, but a game before the whole court. Anne would forever remember this feeling. A smile was given to Mademoiselle Margot as Anne spoke. "I agree with Mademoiselle. A kiss is certainly a sweet and just reward for such a chivalrous thing. I shall willingly provide such a reward to the victor." It was then that Anne prayed and hope for Francois de Valois to come out, if only for her own vanity and pride. William, dear friend that he was, was not going to be the French king some day. At the suggestion of the dance, Anne simply inclined her head in agreement, and inside she laughed. The Volta was a dance that seemed almost carnal in its execution, and Anne was certain that Francois was aware of this, He certainly was a smooth man, if nothing else, and Anne would happily oblige whatever expectations he might have, but in dance only and only toward the purpose of garnering her partner's victory. And if it piqued the Prince's interest even more, Anne would not say no, would she? The verbal sparring continued until those who would judge were decided upon, and Anne gave Monsieur le Prince a coy smile as she joined Margot opposite her own partner. As the music began, an almost cadence as though calling the dancers to arms, Anne gave her curtsy. It was precise and calculated without the outward appearance of looking so as Anne's hooded eyes peered to the man across from her. Her feet were kicked up as the Volta called for, causing her skirts to flourish in brilliant yellow swirls and perhaps reveal just the smallest glance of ankle as the dark haired English maid began to approach her partner, the same coy smile upon her lips. |
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| William Spencer | May 2 2011, 08:21 PM Post #10 |
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
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William looked at Anne, his true rival in this, for they were but two admirers dancing with those above them, and this was even moreso for Anne. The daughter of an English knight. At least William was a worthy Anjou cousin. Nobody would stare at him dancing with Margot de Angouleme like their would with Anne Boleyn dancing with Monsieur le Prince. It made William smirk. His whispered his promises of victory to his lovely little dance partner, knowing already that the two of them could do a volta with their eyes closed and without music. They had been frequent dance partners that had known each other their entire lives. They'd stepped on each other's feet as children. "Présomptueux? Mon cousin, mon bienfaiteur, mon maître, si je tombe, je tombe devant un homme plus grandiose que moi!" He said graciously with an elegant and exaggerated bow which granted him a twittering of amusement from the onlookers. "Just this half, Monsieur? Is there a penalty if I cross to your side?" He chided the prince. He gave a wink to Margot who was obviously very amused by the challenge to her brother. And the delicate and suggestive dance was started and would soon wind up the tempo and intensity, and William's face was quite expressive. A flick of the eyebrow here. A parting of the lips there. An intake of breath next. To watch someone in France dance would be to understand why the French gentlemen were much better lovers. They learned young to emulate the behaviours of expected sexuality, as such was an assurance of performance in the marriage bed. "Oh ho! Penalty, I think I just saw Mademoiselle Anne's ankle," he called out in jest, a hearty smile on his face as he continued on seamlessly with his own dance, invoking his own freedoms of movement that Margot followed perfectly. Like the marriage bed, their movements were intuitive, learned from pleased glances and desired responses, of a purely innocent sort. Yes, it was training. "You will not seduce a priestly judge with your ankles, Mademoiselle!" he added, tauntingly, without taking his attention from Margot. (don't ask me why I put part of it in french when they're obviously speaking French, it was a duh moment, we'll say it adds ambience>.>) |
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| Francois de Valois | May 4 2011, 04:07 PM Post #11 |
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Rough on the tongue but smooth on the lips. It was an interesting turn of phrase that certainly made Francois think. First, he wondered if she had misspoken her French and meant something else. Then, he figured there was no way that could be it. He rather liked the connotations of that comment. The only thing rough on Francois' tongue was thick patches of hair that got in the way. So now, that was all he could think about. He chuckled at her assessment of herself and Guy. "Do you think? I think that to be true of you perhaps, Mademoiselle, and I would love to wield those scissors. Guillaume, I think, has a French heart, but I am not dancing with him, but with you." Francois gave her a cheeky wink. His dark eyes looked down at her as her blush faded. He did not blink but rather looked at those alluring eyes of her. Mon Dieu, the Devil take those eyes. They were dangerous! "Ah, but I am talented, Mademoiselle Anne. My skills are quite numerous. When one is to be king one day, one must be the best at everything. Or at least be able to maintain enough of the illusion of such." He chuckled. No matter what, he would be better at everything when he was king, but he wished to be admired and to make such statements truth. Before they started their competition, Guillaume had to be his typical self. It was one reason why Francois loved the other man so very much. A good nature seemed to be seeped through Pardiac, his Anjou cousin. It did not surprise him that Guy would ask about his half of the floor. "You would like to chance displeasing me?!?" he asked in mock shock of the man clad in blue. "I will replace you with Longueville as my favourite!" he teased. A total lie, as he was not fond of Longueville, a bastard cousin. He waved the musicians on and took up his place with regal confidence. Francois gave Anne a bow with a nice flourish. Soon he was caught watching as the yellow skirts came up as they began. Francois did not miss the sight of her skin under those skirts. As his arms moved gracefully with his body, he could not help the rumble that purred through his throat. A sharp bit of want passed through him as he watched her, matching her skills. Francois had long, graceful legs, but Guillaume was tall too, so he had a much prettier figure for not being quite the giant. If it were not for the fact that Francois loved towering over everyone more than being of perfect height for dancing, he might have been jealous. There was still likely a twinge of jealousy. Thankfully, his favourite's joking made him chuckle a bit. Of course Guy would notice an ankle. The man seemed to have a nose for such things, and he did not even have a large French nose. "Stop trying to basely distract, ma Anjou," he called back. "You admit defeat so early that you resort to such things?" Francois was equally able to taunt and dance, so two could play at that. "You might not impress priests with your ankles, but you impress the more important of men with them," he said to Anne as they came together. He wished he was a height where it would be simple to learn in more to her face. Lifting her gently when the song came to the point, he made sure to pass her closely by his face, catching a waft of her neck as he set her back down, taking in her scent. He has also gotten a very good view of her breasts, something that put a cocky smile on his face. "You are alluring, Mademoiselle Anne, I should have spoken to you more privately previously. I shall chide Guillaume for not having insisted on it. Does he try to keep you to himself, hmm?" he asked as he lifted her again. |
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| Anne Boleyn | May 7 2011, 10:55 PM Post #12 |
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As William caught her eye, Anne could not help but give him a very pleased smile, her eyes flashing at him and somehow being able to be both demure and proud at the same time. Oh, William. William, William -- While he would certainly be a challenge, Anne had confidence in herself and her partner. William could enjoy his moment in the spotlight but, certainly, Francois de Valois would reap the reward that had been set. Anne's head turned back to the Prince as he spoke, listening keenly. The subtle nuances of his turn of phrase and the wink continued to swell Anne's pride and confidence this night. Once again, she would not use any words where such words were said, but gestures. Her eyes hooded as though modestly, but also looked up in a beckoning way. This was topped off with a mischievous smile and a simple turn of the head. "I would never doubt your capabilities, Monsieur le Prince, and I am certain they are many -- and range in all areas of expertise. While you may be a Prince now, I think you must have certainly always had the heart and soul of a King -- naturally, your talents and other abilities would grow to suit such royal obligations." Truthful flattery never hurt, and Anne would always rise to such an opportunity to spout it. Tastefully, of course. As the men verbally sparred with one another, Anne's amused countenance turned from the men to Margot, the other woman in this act. Anne nodded to her, bowing her head slightly in respect, while simultaneously congratulating herself on being a better woman than Margo. She needed no proof other than her own confidence, and Anne was sure the Volta would put any doubts to rest. To think that an English maiden would outshine royal blood at the French Court... Oh the very thought made Anne grin with joy! The subtlest movements in the Volta, this simplest gestures could bring forth lauding like no other. And though the Volta was a dance that certainly called for movements to be somewhat dangerous, one might say, there would always be those who would object to them. Anne didn't expect William to be an objector, but then she reminded herself they were not opponents. A pox on his keen eyes! "I would never think of such a thing, Monsieur Guillaume -- But perhaps your eyes should be on your partner, and not on your rivals." Anne called, smiling triumphantly. Yes, all eyes on her -- as it should be. What a proud peacock she was, but she would repent later, though her pride was completely due to her. "I would shudder for Madamoiselle Margot if you tripped!" Anne's tinkling laugh mixed with the music as she approached her partner for, as she thought, the most invigorating part of the Volta. As Francois echoed William's own thoughts, Anne smiled down at the man upon being lifted into the air. "I haven't an idea what you're talking about, Monsieur le Prince." She teased, and she could almost feel the heat of his face as she touched back down to the Earth. Her fingertips lingered on his shoulders for a moment before she was back in the air again, once more peering down at the future King of France. "I think, Monsieur le Prince, that Monsieur Guillaume would never be so selfish as to keep me from you -- just preoccupied rather." She smiled, her eyes glittering as she did. "Though he should receive stern words from my own tongue as well for not hastening our acquaintance before tonight -- I fell that we may have lost much time to... speak and dance already." She almost laughed, for Anne knew how her words could be taken with the slight pause. There was, if she was not mistaken, one more lift before they would part again. "Perhaps punishment enough would be for you to take this victory from him easily, as I'm sure we will, Monsieur le Prince." |
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| William Spencer | May 8 2011, 06:16 PM Post #13 |
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William laughed jovially at Francois' threat, smiling merrily at Margot as they continued with their dance. Oh replace him with Longueville indeed! Monsieur le Prince was not fond of Longueville, and William knew that when he did displease the prince, he did not find himself long in his displeasure. "Oh Your Highness, I think you will not!" Frankly, Francois usually missed him too much to be cross with him for long. Comical, really, but William was not of a nature to be displeasing. It was a good thing, because he could have been like some of his other cousins and taken advantage of his position and blood. All of his family had been very gracious to him, King Louis especially. William would have been misfortunate if His Majesty would not accept him at his court. William would have had to go to one of his grandfather's country homes and remained there in seclusion and boredom in who would know what sort of circumstance. So, as such, William was very grateful to be here, allowed to share this dance and the plentiful splendor of the French court. He knew how to give in to amusements and how to heighten them. "Ahhh Mademoiselle Anne, Mademoiselle du Angouleme and I can dance with each other with our eyes closed," he taunted back at the women. The heavy lidded woman whose expressions were like a feminine musk, drawing in unsuspecting men. Did not certain female insects do that before the kill? "Are you that easy to distract, Monsieur de Valois? I should have thought not! My apologies, your humble servant did not mean to distract." He let out a triumphant sort of chuckle, enjoying his banter with his friend. He ran the back of his hand slowly down Margot's cheek and just a whisper of her neck before turning. It seemed he even lifted her with a choreographed sort of artistry. Hardly touching at all, their bodies seemed to follow one another with their curves and movements, holding only a few centimeters of length. When the music stopped, William gave his lady a low, graceful bow as she curtsied with that sort of demure look that said just how elevated he was in her eyes. Graciously, he turned to the prince and lowered his head in a nod before he said, "Ah Monsieur, I am sure you have defeated me." He said it because it was what he was supposed to say, but he said it with the obligation evident in the twinkle in his eyes. Francois did not seem to mind, in those close to him, he loved honesty and competition...so long as he knew you stood infallibly at his side. Not many could placate Francois in that way. He was a demanding and intelligent young man. "Monseigneur D'Amboise, what is your Eminence's verdict?" |
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| Francois de Valois | May 10 2011, 08:39 AM Post #14 |
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She was light to his touch and coy. He could not read her lips as well as her eyes, but even that did not speak to him of her intentions. Women could be cruel, and in France almost every woman of note was a worthy seductress in glance alone whilst not being one in action. Francois could never tell, because so many succumbed to his advances. His advances had been one of his most diligent lessons all his life with his prime duty to make an heir. The people wanted a virile prince who would father many sons and some princesses to forge alliances. He had been encouraged to kiss and play since he was a small boy. None of that gave him much an advantage over the mystique of a strong woman. It was simply good that his position meant that most gave in. The prince had his few women with which he enjoyed a tête-à-tête, a private conversation whilst naked, and he tended to not venture too far. At least not publicly. What he did behind closed doors was often a different matter. He should like to add this English rose to his collection. She was worthy of his attentions from what he had seen thus far. Besides, it would be good for relations between their countries. Hearing her speak of him being king made him smile cockily. "I was born a prince du sang, the premiere prince du sang when my father died, but it was God who chose to not bless His Majesty with a son. So it is God who has chosen me, and I must obey." He did not wish to be king, but if he was to be king, he would be a very good king. He hoped His Majesty had many good years left, because Francois enjoyed the pleasure of court without her obligations. Besides, the king did not that often keep long, public company. He had his appearances in the Great Hall for some time and then retired with his own favourites to private galleries and chambers. Speaking of favourites, "Monsieur Présomptueux, I do not accept your apologies or extend you any forgivenesses. I shall merely humiliate you." Francois quipped, enjoying every moment of showing both his grace and his wit. "There is nothing humble about my good servant at all," he pretended to say with harsh intonation, but in the end it merely just came off as typical playful banter. It was the courtly way of posturing such that they could have their fun as equals whilst accentuating who was the prince and who was not. It was clear everyone still knew their place despite their familiar affection. Putting his warm, dark eyes back on Anne, he smirked at her own tongue lashing. "Yes, Mademoiselle Anne, you lesson him. He is obviously quite stupid for not putting all his attention on my sister," he said, hardly able to keep in his chuckling. He and Guy were doing the same exact thing. It was what was expected. "Oh ho! If he tripped! Monsieur Présomptueux, if you trip and assault my sister, I shall have your hide for a RUG!" He cockily looked down at the woman whose artistry was in her eyes and each stroke she painted on the canvas in her fluid movements. Precise and coloured to perfection. "Oh, have you not, ma fleur? I think that you do, but your feminine modesty is not a deterrent," he assured her. "You dance too well of the French court to not be privy to any of her other lessons." He trailed off with a steady rumble that vibrated through his chest. He lifted her high, putting her feet and feet above anyone in the room, tilting his head back to look at her seeming to fly over him with those blue eyes. "Tell me, Mademoiselle, how long shall I have to besiege your defenses before I can burst through your walls?" Francois had purposefully included the sexual imagery and the quirk of both sides of his lips made that quite evident. "Monsieur Présomptueux is distracted? From me? Well ma fleur that will not do at all...stern words indeed, I think, from both our tongues. Thankfully, all is not lost, and we may enjoy each other now." He listed her for the final time, extending his arms and drawing a few 'Oooooo's from the onlookers at how very high she was in the air. Francois knew that Guillaume could not do similarly, and he did not feel guilty about taking advantage of his friend's weakness. A future king could never do such things as feel guilty over taking advantage of a 'rival's' weakness. He would use Guy's limited range of motion and strength in his shoulder to his own advantage; although, Francois had always been thoroughly impressed how much his friend did not allow it to bother him or alter his behavior. Francois knew how bad the injury was from when they were both boys. "A rose must be close to the sun, no?" he asked her as they twirled. "Or are you a flower that blooms in the moonlight? That should please me, I think." He gently placed her back on the floor, finished out the dance smoothly. He bowed to her and then clapped, leading everyone to follow suit. "Ahh Mademoiselle, you bring me much enjoyment. Surely such women are not worthy of such men." Francois did not have to puff out his chest or anything of the like to look regal with his height. As his favourite conceded his 'fears' of 'defeat', Francois too, turned to Monseigneur D'Amboise. "Yes, mon ami Cardinal, who is the victor?" D'Amboise was a man in the later years of his life, wearing the scarlet of a prince of the church. He had clapped right along at the end of the dance, a smile playing on his face. D'Amboise was the King's chancellor, a man of intelligence and honour. He also knew where his bread came from. "I think it a very close competition. Monsieur de Pardiac and Mademoiselle de Angouleme are very pretty together, indeed. Were it not for your Highnesses' spectacular lifts, I should think they would be victors. The ladies, of course, both beautiful and resplendent, admirable dancers indeed. Your Highness and Mademoiselle win, however, because the degree of difficulty much higher in unfamiliar partners. I think all would agree." |
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| Anne Boleyn | May 12 2011, 11:43 AM Post #15 |
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The raven-haired young woman hadn't the extent of knowledge she was now grasping as to how close Francois and William truly were with their friendly teasing. If William had known Francois this intimately the entire time, why had he not introduced the Prince and Anne before? Surely she would chide him when this was all over, as an insult to the injury of defeat he would surely suffer soon. Despite their differences in height, it seemed the pair worked together, but how could they not? Monsieur le Prince was tall, handsome, confident -- as every great man should be, and Anne, content in the knowledge that she was no ugly woman, was eager to show off her partner's talents as well as her own. Ah, what else could they do? Anne could dream and perhaps scheme, and for the moment it was enough to satisfy her, but not distract her from the task at hand. "God has touched Monsieur le Prince in every way, it would seem." Anne whispered so only her partner would hear her words. Her cobalt eyes glittered as she pulled away from the man in the dance for the moment, and then they flickered for a quick inventory of those that watched. Her chest may burst soon it was so full of pride and, while pride Anne did have, she would not admit to being vain. Anne was not vain -- she was merely truthful in the excellence of her skills and beauty. "I hope for Mademoiselle du Angouleme's sake you are right, Monsieur Guillaume." Anne laughed at William's rebuttal. "To slight such a belle would be an unforgivable offense!" Anne had no quarrel with Monsieur le Prince's sister, but she was beginning to grow with some irritation that William, obviously so close to the Angoulemes, had kept them from Anne. Oh, he would get a chiding indeed in a private moment! A smile curved her lips and laughter spilled from them as Francois spoke to William, denying his apology and threatening him were he to harm his sister. The largest laugh escaped from Anne at Francois threat of turning poor William into a rug. Imagine him all stretched out before the fire -- how mirthful an image that was! With a look from Francois, Anne rewarded him with a simple glance of her eyes and her laughter melting into a simple smile. Oh yes... Another lift came in which Anne was certain she was the closest to heaven she had ever been upon this earthly plane. Her eyes gazed down at the Prince as he spoke, his arms not at all trembling with effort or exertion. Her lips mirrored his own coy smile, and she leaned down just slightly enough to whisper, "You shall find I am a fortress not so easily breached, Monsieur le Prince." She purred. Her feet touched the ground once more for but a moment before she was in the air again, even higher. She kept perfect form for her partner, resisting the urge for a greedy and haughty glance around the room. No, her blue eyes were only fixed on Francois. In response to his question, she replied, "I am a flower for all times and all seasons, Monsieur le Prince." With that, Anne had touched back to the ground. The music ended, and Anne bowed her head as she curtsied reverently, those same eyes that were instruments of the woman's trade looking up at her royal partner with gratitude and something else. She straightened up as both men called for the results, and she waited with baited breath. Was she worried? Of course not -- only concerned. The English maiden turned towards the Cardinal, her expression for the moment demure as she waited for him to speak. Victory was theirs, and Anne could not help but release a jubilant smile as she turned back to her partner, her face beaming with utter joy. She curtsied once more to Francois, before turning to the other pair, the losers, and giving them a deep and graceful curtsy. It was all for show, of course, but she would paint herself to be a humble victor. "Monsieur and Mademoiselle's dancing was as beautiful as I might have seen." She said by way of compliment, "But it seems not beautiful enough." Anne gave a look to William, her eyes laughing as she turned once more to her partner. "I believe to the victor the reward called for a kiss?" |
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6:26 AM Jul 11