Let's me introduce you to Prince Liborio, First of the Name

She is…
Of course, she is. Her Excellence Blanca, on such an occasion, cann't be shown without her entire company. Two full days of preparations, and fittings, for a few hours. So as to be unforgettable ...
The Lady of Bourg Blanc, after his office with Blanca, went to dress, having confidence in Madam's Tastes. The curls are up and hidden as it should be, a necklace encircles her slender neck.
Stay right, impassive, smiling and distant, all at once, she thought!
Just to hide her extreme nervousness, even anguish at the thought of not meeting the rules of propriety, and deceive.
The girl has not grasped the subtleties Spanish yet, but a King is a King, and quite an normally inaccessible person to ordinary mortals. And Margot is deadly …

As she stays away, surrounded by her companions, some more seasoned than others to this kind of situation, the heavy doors open, and whispers cease miraculously. Limit to hold his breath.
Fortunately the two men came back to life in the assembly of women, the smiles are more candid, or more tense, or more stylish.

Blanca da Lua is wonderful, as usual, and distinguished guests are captivated by their hostess.
So, feeling less exposed, the girl leaves her bright eyes wander on King and his son, forgetting some of their situation and his. She observes the outfits, noting the physical highlighted. Finally, while it is King, he is a man, even if the man is impressive. It must be admitted that manhood has always attracted more than just pretty faces adorned with beards.
Margot has given way to his contemplation, forgetting the rest. Her ruby ​​lips draw a smile somewhat distant, far from it because the idea of ​​being noticed. A sudden nudge the back of its neighbor to the present, making it slightly startled, and blink.


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Elle est là…
Bien sûr qu'elle est là, la Marquise, en une telle occasion, ne peut se montrer sans sa compagnie au grand complet. Deux jours entiers de préparatifs, d'essayages, pour quelques heures seulement. Mais qui doivent être inoubliables...
La Dame de Bourg Blanc, après son office auprès de Blanca, est allée se vêtir, ayant toute confiance dans le goût de Madame. Les boucles blondes sont relevées et dissimulées comme il se doit, un collier enserre son cou étroit.
Rester droite, impassible, souriante et lointaine, tout ça à la fois!
Juste pour dissimuler sa grande nervosité, son angoisse même, à l'idée de ne pas satisfaire aux règles de bienséance, et de décevoir.
La jeune bretonne n'a pas encore saisi toutes les subtilités espagnoles, mais un Roy reste un Roy, c’est-à-dire normalement une personne inaccessible pour le commun des mortels. Et Margot est mortelle…

Alors qu'elle se tient à l'écart, au milieu de ses compagnes, certaines plus aguerries que d'autres à ce genre de situation, les lourdes portes s'ouvrent, et les chuchotis cessent comme par miracle. Limite à retenir son souffle.
Heureusement l'entrée des deux hommes ramène de la vie dans l'assemblée féminine, les sourires se font plus francs, ou plus crispés, ou plus coquets.

Blanche est merveilleuse, comme à son habitude, et les illustres invités sont captivés par leur hôtesse.
Alors, se sentant moins exposée, la jeune fille laisse ses yeux clairs se promener sur le Roy et son fils, en oubliant quelque peu leur situation et la sienne. Elle observe les tenues, remarquant le physique mis en valeur. Finalement, tout Roy qu'il soit, il s'agit d'un homme, même si l'homme est impressionnant. Il faut avouer que la maturité masculine l'a toujours plus attirée que les minois tout juste ornés de barbe. Margot s'est laissée aller à sa contemplation, oubliant le reste. Ses lèvres vermeilles dessinent un sourire quelque peu lointain, car loin d'elle l'idée d'être remarquée. Un brusque coup de coude de sa voisine la ramène au présent, la faisant légèrement sursauter, et cligner des yeux.

As usually The Guérande was on her boat , watching the see , the horizon .. the seagull shouting as if they were at war with the world. She was watching their flight , imaging them dancing on the wind and closing her eyes , hoping to be with like them. The rolling of the boat in the middle of the sea helping her sensation, imagination of being a bird.

Right in the middle of her waking dream, suddenly a noise …

Bbbbbouuuaaaaaaaaaarrrrrpppppffffffffffff

A seagull falling down in the middle of the Black Salt deck. But it was not whatever seagull, it was one of the precious messenger coming from THE daughter of her life. Her Gwen chérie.

Nobody moves!!!!

Right away , the French Admiral recognize this messenger and jumped on it to catch it. Not to eat it , they still have reserve in the hold of the ship. A little message on the bird , a direction , an address and a perfume. The Gwen's perfume!

Changez de bord!!!! souquez les artibuzes!!!! crénond'une barrique vide , direction l'Espagne et la plus belle d'entre toutes!

It is like that , that one day Alieniore de Guérande arrived for her rendez-vous.

Elorn!! dépêche toi !

And a young boy to run down the boat faster than a rabbit hunts by a fox.

Elorn!! wait for me!!

And the druid mumbles as she is trying to follow her son running to meet his sister and finally arrives where she is supposed to be.

A whisper into her ear, and then she suddently looked in another direction.
A light shadow coming to them, a known shadow. Her mother's...

Nothing to add to this. She simply was happy, but couldn't show it in the way she would have love to... How many months did she wait until the duchess came to her ? How many nights ? How many times did she regret not to introduce Aliéniore to her husband, not to see Elorn and how he grew up ?
How many ?
She couldn't even remember for how long she didn't meet. But that was a shamed last, for sure, because Aliéniore's face had change a lot since her last meeting. And so Elorn was... Almost a man.

Mother, there you are! she said, in a spontaneous sentence. She could have add : I missed you, all of you, and where is Father, and all of them, where are they all ?
But she didn't forget how her Father treated her mother, and so was she happy to see her, and little Elorn.
She didn't either forget who her mother was. She bowed slowly.

Your Grace.

Las escasas lluvias de aquel año traían un paraje desolador a las tierras del norte de la Corona, en medio de aquellas tierras una comitiva levantaba el polvo de los caminos, no haciendo placentero el viaje de los dos hombres que iban dentro del carruaje, uno de ellos el Rey de Castilla y León mientras que el otro era mucho mas joven, alrededor de unos dieciocho años cuando mucho. El joven se quejaba constantemente del polvo que entraba al coche.

¿Por que tienen que ser tan largo y sucio este viaje, padre? - era una de las tantas frases que el joven había dicho durante el camino a su padre - ¿Porque no pudo realizarse en Alba o en la Corte?

Porque la Marquesa es la anfitriona - contesto monótonamente el Rey

Al fin hemos llegado, pensó el joven Liborio mientras el carruaje se acercaba a la plaza de armas del castillo, al descender les ofrecieron unas habitaciones para poder refrescarse y descansar un poco, para luego cambiarse de ropas para poder bajar a los jardines y ser recibidos por la anfitriona. Aquel día era uno muy importante para el joven, pues de aquella reunión se decidiría su futuro.

El Infante, vestido con un sobrio jubón de piel verde oscuro, ante su titubeo inicial, fue tomado por el brazo por su padre para obligarle a tomar la iniciativa. Inevitablemente, tuvo que vencer sus nervios y saludar a la marquesa, haciendo una profunda reverencia, tal y como él había aprendido en la Corte de su padre. A pesar de no tener el pelo rubio de su padre y su difunta tía Elena, si que conservaba los glaucos ojos característicos de los Borja.

El gusto es todo mio, Excelencia, padre me ha hablado bien de vos y ansiaba poder conocerla

El joven dio un paso hacia el lado cuando la marquesa continuo su conversación con el Rey, a quien le presento una de sus damas de compañia. Los nervios invadían al joven Borja, pues sabia que su padre no iba a perdonar ningún error en aquella importante reunión. Los ojos verde azulados del Infante recorrieron escudriñando cada rincón del jardín, el cual le pareció hermoso por su frondosidad y frescura, en aquel mar de sequedad castellana. Sin embargo, su cabeza estaba en otro mundo, y los nervios del joven iban en aumento.


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Poor rains of that year brought a desolate spot on the northern lands of the Crown, in the midst of those lands a procession up the dust of the roads, doing enjoyable journey of two men inside the carriage, one of including King of Castile and Leon, while the other was much younger, about eighteen years at most. The young man constantly complained of dust entering the car.

Why have to be so long and dirty this trip, Father? - was one of the many phrases that the young man had said on the way to his father - Why could not take place in Alba or in court?

Because the Marquesa is the host - the King replied monotonously

At last they arrive, thought the young Liborio as the carriage approached the castle's parade ground, descending offered them a room to cool off and rest a bit, then change clothes to go down to the gardens and received by the hostess. That day was a very important for the young, because of that meeting will decide his future.

The Prince, dressed in a sober dark green leather jacket, to his initial hesitation, was taken by her father's arm to force him to take the initiative. Inevitably, he had to overcome his nerves and greet the marchioness, bowing deeply as he had learned at the court of his father. Despite not having blond hair of his father and his aunt Elena, if you kept the glaucous eyes characteristic of the Borgias.

The pleasure it´s mine, Your Excellency. My father has spoke very highly of you. I wanted to meet you for a long time

The young man stepped to the side when the Marquise continued his conversation with the King, whom he presented one of her ladies in waiting. Nerves invade the young Borja, because he knew that his father would not forgive any mistake in this important meeting. The Infante´s eyes were scrutinizing every corner of the garden, which seemed beautiful in its luxuriance and freshness, in that dryness sea of Catile. However, his head was in another world, and nerves of the young were growing.

The Viscountess and her shadow the Countess Magalona walked along the hall to go to the garden, where the reception took place. Jehanne had to get introduced to Prince Liborio. This was such an honor!
She did not know anything about Blanche's plans and did not even wonder about all this. So pleased to be in Spain, so pleased to here spanish speaking, so pleased to feel the warm sunny breeze on her face. A pilgrimage, again.

She fled away from Languedoc because of her illness most probably caused by drug. She felt so incomfortable running away from the people who liked her! But this was an omen: the beginning of "something else" in her life. Something else than her absent intended, something else than her life in her mother's shadow, something else than feeling angry and sad about her father abandoning her... Something else than Actarius always telling her off about every step she does in the World.

A pilgrimage. No other word could describe this new start in life: now her guardian spirit wasn't Actarius but Magalona, now the footsteps in which she followed were Reginhart's and no more Marguerite's.


After passing the door to the garden, Jehanne and Magalona met Clémence de l'Epine, behind a curtain moved by the breeze. What was she waiting for? Maybe a sign?

- « Bonjour, Votre Magnificence ! »* Those words were delightful. Jehanne enjoyed saying them, although she was sure Clémence would have accepted any "Hi Clémence!" or "Wow, it's been a long time since we didn't met!"
The two young women were both proud of their title, especially because they both snatched them from their absent father by some illegal devices... But chhhh, it's a well-keeped secret.

- « Je ne m'attendais pas à vous voir ici, c'est plaisant ! Je vous présente Magalona d'Alanha, Comtesse du Gévaudan, mon chaperon et mon amie. Mais je crois qu'il ne faut pas traîner... J'ai entendu du bruit de notre fenêtre, je crois qu'ils ont déjà commencé ! »*

With a handgesture, she parted the curtain and stepped forward. To Blanche. To Carolum. To light.
Her byzantine headgear sparkled.




____________
*Said in french :
"Good afternoon, Your Splendour!"
"I didn't expect to see you here, it's nice! Let's me introduce to you Magalona d'Alanha, Countess of Gévaudan, my chaperon and friend. But I think we have to hurry... I heard some noise from our window, I think they have already started!"

People supposed to be present in this topic
Dead people
Living people, absent from this topic

She was waiting for a sign and was there a better sign than Jehanne-Elissa apparition? Clémence startled and suddenly sat up when she recognized without any hesitation the voice of the little “Goupil”*.

Even if she met Blanche in a few occasions before, it was in Cauvisson that they learned to love each other. Thanks to Jehanne-Elissa. Thanks to Aléanore as well but Aléanore was dead and it would be more a miracle than a sign if she decided to appear now.

Anyway. Jehanne was surely the sign she expected. The sign that God was with her and definitely approved what she was about to do. Don't forget that Clémence saw many signs in many occasions: probably a way to reassure herself about the pertinence of her acts and thoughts.

Jehanne ! That was a exclamation of surprise and relief. She even had not the time to think of call her “Viscountess”.

Je m'attendais tout aussi peu à vous voir là également.** Actually, she did not also expect to be here herself a couple of days ago. Vous ne pouvez pas savoir à quel point cela me rend heureuse.**

No, she could not.

Clémence remembered the last time she saw her. It was during her wedding. But she had no occasions to go and talk to her. Did she forgive her for the thing she told her, many months ago? She did not hear from her after she learned her that her father was actually not dead, contrary to what certain people wanted she believes.

She looked at the young lady by the name of Magalona and smiled to her. With a small smile, almost shy. What a strange moment. It was not like her to smile shyly.

Je suis enchantée de faire votre connaissance.** She says. And she meant it, for once.

Jehanne was already about to get into the room and she could not ask if Magalona was Cristol's or LeGueux's daughter, and it was finally a good thing, because it is not the kind of question you can ask when you meet someone for the first time. Countess of Gevaudan? It could mean that Polstephie and Cristol were dead, but she did not know that. Was Cristol dead? He was not one of her friend, not at all, but he was so naive and honest - and so did she, during her time of innocence and purity - that he impressed her, like a child in front of something he cannot understand. And probably he was one of the last person to see her, pure and innocent.

She did not realize that, lost in her mind, she followed Magalona and Jehanne-Elissa inside the kind of tent put up in the garden. And when she did, it was later to turn around. She kept eyes down, and stayed behind them. She knew that we could think that she was just a Lady in waiting, in the shadow of the two ladies from Languedoc, but she did not care for once. She just wanted not to offend Blanche, appearing like she was invited, proud and triumphant like she usually did. She would be humble, as the regretful woman she was.

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*The "Goupil" is the emblem of Volpilhat family. It's an old french word meaning "Fox"

**French dialog translation:
"I didn't expect at all to see you there either"
"You can't imagine how happy I am to see you there"
"I'm very pleased to meet you"

She smiled to the Prince, and then turned her head in Carolum's direction.

Your father seems to have a higher opinion of me than the one I deserve, she said. But I also have a hudge admiration for him, so it doesn't really matter. In her mind, she may was egal to Carolum as she never shouldn't be, but it was the King's fault, to let her become close to him, to let her know his fails, his fears, and all that made him a human being. He wasn't sort of a God to her, he was a man, and as a man she admired him, that was the point.

I think it's time, she then said.
First of all, let's me introduce to you Jehanne Elissa de de Volpihat-Appérault, daughter of Marguerite Corteis de Volpilhat and of Louis Raphael d'Appérault, and also niece of Réginhart de Malpertuis. She is Vicomtess of Cauvisson and Baronness of Malpertuis.

And... And... Next to her, there are...
Magalona Eufrasia d’Alanha, Comtess of Gevaudan, and... and...and also Clémence de l'Epine, Marquise of Nemours.

Oh-My-God.

God bless translators.

Clémence did not speak any languages but french and a few words from Sicily or Venice. But it was a meeting between the King and the Prince of Castile, and some ladies from France. So of course, and fortunately, there was a translator.

She was very afraid of Blanche's reaction, and probably her smile was a little more tensed than usual, but she was a socialite, she was used to be spontaneously smiling and polite. Especially with kings.

So she smiled in return, listening to the King, Jehanne-Elissa and the blessed translator. She smiled to the words of Jehanne, thinking that every child was certain not to match up his ancestors. She smiled to the King, to his son, curtseying to both of them. She smiled to Blanche, behind her gold curly locks.

Votre Majesté, c'est un plaisir que de revenir sur ces terres de Castille. J'eus l'honneur d'y accompagner une première fois feue notre bien-aimée reine Béatrice, lors de sa visite de courtoisie à la Reine Elena. En compagnie de Blanche, d'ailleurs. She said, turning her deep blue eyes to look at Blanche, shouting to her “Remember our old days of friendship”.

Je suis enchantée de pouvoir faire votre connaissance, ainsi que celle de votre fils, c'est un réel honneur.

It was, indeed. With this stop in Castile, she was missing the allegiances towards his own King. So what? She was with a king, still.

The Marquise of Nemours thought for a second to ask for his opinion about the french situation of trouble and confusion. One king on a throne and another one claiming it for himself. One legitimate but controversial, the other one rebellious and tenacious. She was curious to know how the events were perceived by His Majesty of Castile. But this was probably not the good moment to enter in this kind of discussions. She knew why Jehanne was here, she heard the reason of this meeting from the servant who brought her sooner to the gardens.

J'espère pouvoir échanger quelques mots avec vous, quand le contexte s'y prêtera davantage, et si vous le voulez bien.

That was enough – even if she refrained to tell him that Jehanne-Elissa was the ideal match for his son. A little curtsey, again, and then she moved aside to let the pretenders at the foreground.

-------------------
"Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to come back on the land of Castile. I had the honor to come here a first time with our late and beloved Queen Béatrice when she visited the Queen Elena. Together with Blanche, by the way."

"I am delighted to meet you, and your son. It is a real honor."

"I hope I could exchange some words with you later, when the context will lend itself more for that, and if you want so".

What a shame Clémence was here! thought Blanche, keeping a discret smile in Carolum's direction. She started not to feel so good, because of the sun, of her pregnancy, or of the memories coming back from darkness to her mind. What a shame... She would rather feel hundred deaths than this, again. Back from the beginning, as if nothing had ever happen.
She never was threaten. She never was armed. She didn't ever suffer at all.

Je suis très étonnée que le chemin pour Rome passe pas la Castille. She smiled. Et sans invitation! And kept Margot's hand into hers.

She'd never forgive that kind of humiliation. Never.
And then, remaining the past, she presented the next one.

Aranelle du Ried, daughter of Ztneik du Ried, Duke of Trun, and of Rose du Ried, Vicomtess of Almenêches, and whose lost brother was a close friend of mine. She now is the one who work for the King of France to organize celebrations, as Aleanore Jagellon Alterac did as well.

Isn't she pretty? she asked Margot.

Yes, everything was perfect.
This society life was far from being the first one for the young woman, really accustomed of noble interviews. However, it was the first time when Aranelle walked on the Spanish ground with a certain delight. The parts of the country of Gondomar had nothing to envy at the Duchy of Trun. Nothing could let think that the heiress would like the Kingdom of Castile, and nevertheless the blonde appreciated her stay where the heat was in a premature way.
Exhausted by her travel, the Ried arrived one week before the meeting, as it was agreed with the Marquise. The castle welcomed a lot of ladies come from France, in the optics to meet the son of King Carolum, or more modestly to meet Spanish personalities, what would constitute a diplomatic approach which the young woman liked so particularly. Effectively, "the art of the feather", as she liked calling it, was a real passion for Aranelle, who won in influence in this middle with time and the appointments. And Valdecorneja, that's where led her it this adulation.

The Ried did not travel only, accompanied by her lady's companion, who accepted with pleasure the proposal of Aranelle, for the fact of following her in Castille. The week which preceded the society life was shared between the rest and the visit of the big cities of the Hispanic Kingdom, always with Esmey. So, the young woman appreciated the frame of her stay and prepared her only very late for the interview with the sovereign and his son.

The hour had come.
Aranelle clothed a dress weaved by the hand of her alençonnaise friend, noble work made of prestigious tissues and the other luxurious materials whose the beauty equalled the price. The blonde ask also a second dress, for Esmey. So, after a few moments reserved to diverse preparations, both young women were finally ready. Aranelle abandoned the room for win the garden. At this time of year, the temperatures in Castille were very soft, so this room of outside was very pleasant.

She was here, placed beside the King and his son. A look understood with her lady's companion, then Aranelle went to the noble assembly, the smile on the lips. It was long since the young woman had seen Blanche and seeing again her he pleased. Before addressing the Baroness of Donges,the Ried execute a humble inclination in front of the Prince and his father, with a certain respect for the label and the propriety. To be Master of the Ceremonies of France, that formed in this kind of formalities.

- Marquise, vous revoir est un grand plaisir, dont je ne me cache pas. J'ose espérer que vous vous portez merveilleusement bien, du moins aussi bien que lors de notre dernière rencontre. Aujourd'hui, vous voilà une influente Marquise du Royaume de Castille. Je vous félicite de cette ascension de laquelle je me réjouis. A short break followed by a new look to Esmey. Aussi, permettez-moi de vous présenter ma demoiselle de compagnie, Esmey de Verchères. *

After that the young people breathed her tirade ine the ear of the Marquise, the heiress waited that the King or his son speaks.

__________________

* Marquise, to see you again is a pleasure, whose I do not hide. I hope you are well, at least as well as during our last meeting. Today, you are an influential Marquise of the Kingdom of Castile. I congratulate you for your ascent whose I'm delighted. So, allow me to present you my lady companion, Esmey de Verchères.

Your Grace

A lot of important people around, Alié understood her daughter attitude but she didn't really care and gave her a hugs. Quick hug and whisper to her ear : tu m'as tant maqué ma belle.

The french admiral just arrived form sailing and was not wearing proper dress for the occasion. A lot of nice women around Gwenn.
She preferred to put herself aside so. Wondering what she 's doing there and when she could be able to speak with her daughter alone.