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lesecretdelamaisondubourbon · 2 years

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⚜️XIV⚜️: I am Dieudonné (Ch. I/Pt. V)

It would be a few days before we would get to see Papa again. It was difficult to keep Philippe occupied the first day. It seemed he would ask to see our father every hour of the day. At night, he would cling to me so tightly, my arm would become numb. Once he fell asleep, I pulled my arm away gently. When I fell asleep, he take my arm again.

One morning, I opened my eyes to see a face I was not often accustomed.

“Louis.” It was Maman.

I sat up quickly. My movements woke Philippe.

“Maman,” he said, sitting up. “Where is Papa?”

“You will both get to see your father today,” she said. She was smiling at us. As a child, I never questioned her motives, but I knew she was always thinking behind a pleasant façade.

“Now,” I asked.

“After you have dressed and have eaten,” she said motioning to the servants. “Your father is eager to see you both. He is feeling much better, but he must stay in bed until his health recovers completely.”

“Yes, Maman,” I said softly.

“I want to go now,” Philippe said.

“Philippe, you will listen to your mother,” she said, sternly. “Do as you are told.”

“Yes, Maman,” he answered, giving her a cold stare. While our father lived, his confidence was unbroken.

“Good boy,” she said. “Françoise, bring them the king when they are ready.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” our governess answered, bowing to our mother. With that, Maman left the room. Her grace and beauty was as undeniable as her ambition. As our governess took Philippe to be dress, I got out of bed to be dressed.

After we had eaten, we were taken to my father apartments. When the doors were opened, Philippe nearly flew out of our governess’ arms.

“Papa,” he squealed in delight. We both ran to our father. He was lying in bed propped up by pillows. He looked far better than before as color had returned to his face.

“Bontemps,” Papa said to the man standing beside his bed. “If you would, please.”

“Of course, Sire,” he said. He had a gentle smile. He lifted each of us up onto the bed. Philippe jumped on top of Papa. He tried to hide the pain but I could see it.

“Easy, Philippe,” he said. “I am still recovering.”

“Take us outside,” Philippe said.   “I am afraid I cannot do that today,” he answered. “But perhaps when I am feeling better.”

“Why are you ill, Papa,” I asked.

“Do not worry, Louis,” he said. “It is nothing.”

“Then take us outside,” Philippe said. “I want to go outside.”

Papa laughed as he looked at me.

“Has your brother always been this persistent,” he asked.

“Since he learned to speak.”

“When I get better, I promise I will take you out into the garden, Philippe,” Papa said. “Will you behave until then?”

Philippe thought about it for a moment.

“Yes, Papa,” he finally answered. “But you must get better.”

“I promise,” Papa said.

“Your Majesty,” a man from across the room. “Monsieur has arrived.”

“Send him in,” Papa said.

My uncle came into the room. Gaston Jean-Baptiste, Duc d’Orléans, our father’s younger brother. I could hardly remember a time when they got along. I never understood their relationship.

“Good Morning, Brother,” he said. He was remarkably gleeful. “I see my two nephews are doing well.”

“Gaston,” Papa said, smiling. “How are you?”

“I am doing much better than you are,” he said, approaching the bed. “I pray that God may return you to good health. France needs its king.”

“I can rule from my bed,” Papa answered. “It is my body that recuperates, not my mind.”

��How is Le Dauphin,” Gaston said to me.

“I am well, Uncle,” I answered softly.

“That is good,” he said. “And le Petit Monsieur?”

Philippe looked at him. I could not tell what he was thinking until he opened his mouth.

“What?”

“How are you,” Gaston asked.

“Good,” he answered. “I am not ill. Papa is.”

Though faint, I could hear soft chuckles around the room.

“I have an idea, Philippe,” Papa began. “How would you like Gaston to take you into the garden?” I wished he had not asked that question.

“Why,” Philippe asked.

“Because you wanted to go into the garden, remember?”

“Not with him, Papa,” Philippe said.

“Your Majesty,” our governess said as she walked over to us. “I will take them. I am sure you require some time with His Highness.”

“Thank you, Françoise,” Papa said.

“Yes, Thank you, Françoise,” Gaston said, as she took Philippe into her arms. I jumped off the bed.

“Papa, will we see you later,” I asked.

“We shall see, Louis,” he said. “For now, I wish for you and your brother to play. Do not worry about me. I shall be with you for some time.”

“Yes, Papa.” I took my governess’ hand and she led us away. I thought his words to me were unusual. I did not understand how long ‘some time’ would be.--The Secret of the House of Bourbon–XIV by Jaynaé Marie Miller. 1-5-2022

#the house of bourbon #louis xiii #louis xiv #philippe duc d'anjou #gaston duc d'orleans #anne of austria #france #kingdom of france #french history #kings of france #writers of tumblr #books on tumblr #historical fiction #historical drama #history #two year olds #life and times #17th century

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animanightmate · 4 years

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Drawing The Musketeers 18

18?! Blimey, next thing you know this project will be voting and having ill-considered, alcohol-related adventures. Talking of ill-considered: I was going to draw a different character, then realised that it had been over a month since I’d drawn, so really, I’d better draw someone I dislike, in order to warm up. So have a smarmy, spoilt, royal brat or, as I like to call him, Monsieur le Dickhead (as ever, best seen on small screens, for reasons of resolution):

Some thoughts about this:

For a not-drawn-for-a-while warm-up, it ain’t bad at all!

Andre Flynn is an extraordinary-looking human. I felt like I was constantly doing a caricature, but no – that’s just his bone structure.

Fucking lace. Black lace. I can’t quite work out whether black or white is worse.

However, what’s worse than either is fussy little bits of fucking stripy piping everywhere.

That hair was a bloody nightmare, not least because it shifted in whether it looked dark or light depending where it was, and there was a lot of it, and it was everywhere.

Halfway through fiddling with the cheekbones/ long side of that smug smirk, I found myself thinking how much it looked like the same bit on Jason Flemyng, and – like channeling Anthony McKie into Ashley Walters before – I think a little bit of JF turned up in this rendition of AF.

I am really pleased with the eyes. Probably my best eyes yet. (I know the bar is low, shush, doesn’t matter, inner critic, because this is my bar I’m raising, please be at peace.)

While this isn’t a wildly precise portrait of the man, it also looks very much like A Person to me. And it probably my most accurate facial proportions on one of these to date.

We don’t talk about the collar. Some things aren’t meant to be accurate.

Andre Flynn has such a narrow waist! I measured the proportions at least three times before relenting!

We’re going to skip over the clothes – let’s leave it as: I know I can do better, and this one was tricky, so I will do better in future.

I’m actually pretty chuffed with this one.

⬅Day 17 Day 18 ➡

Progress shots below the cut, to avoid timeline spamming.

#the musketeers #bbc musketeers #bbc the musketeers #musketeers #art #fanart #sketch #drawing the musketeers #drawing #Andre Flynn #gaston #monsieur le prince #duc d'orleans #troublesome younger brother #retracting pencil #the nice thing about sublimating your stress into something creative is that at the end of the process you have something to show for it #I appreciate that's not always possible #oc

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