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#prussian royal wedding
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FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH
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masterlist
pairing: prince friedrich x reader
description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.
warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !
“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”
You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.
“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”
“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.
“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”
Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.
“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”
As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”
Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.
“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”
You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.
You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.
Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.
“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”
You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.
“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”
The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.
“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.
Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”
The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.
“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”
You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”
He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.
Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?
Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?
You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.
You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.
You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.
“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”
“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”
He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”
You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.
He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.
Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.
The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.
“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”
He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.
“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”
“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”
He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.
“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”
“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”
“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”
“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.
“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”
“You flatter me, my love.”
“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.
“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”
“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”
———
ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!
if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!
also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!
in the meantime, here is my masterlist!
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tiaramania · 5 months
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First Tiaras for Spanish Royals
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Princess Leonor turns 18 on Tuesday and I feel pretty confident in saying that her first tiara will be the Princess Victoria Louise's Prussian Diamond Tiara because it’s used as a starter tiara within the family. For example...
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Queen Sofia, back when she was Princess Sophia of Greece, started wearing tiaras a little before her 18th birthday in November 1956. (Joining Princess Anne in proving that these are not the strict rules people in the fandom think they are.) The picture on the left is from the Greek state visit to France in June 1956 and the one on the right is labelled as her debutante ball. I don't know if that's accurate and I can't find a date for when her debutante ball would have been but she looks to be about the same age.
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Infanta Elena turned 18 in December 1981 but the first dated pictures I’ve found of her wearing a tiara are from the Swedish state visit in March 1983. It’s possible that she wore Queen Maria Christina’s Diamond Floral Tiara before that because she also wore it often when she was young.
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Infanta Cristina turned 18 in June 1983 and the earliest pictures with dates that I've found are from the state visit from Nepal in September 1983.
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Queen Letizia's first tiara was on her wedding day in May 2004. The Prussian Diamond Tiara was her primary tiara starting out but like the other royal women she moved on to other pieces.
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Princess Leonor can choose whichever tiara she wants for her first one but the Prussian Diamond Tiara seems most likely. I have a post coming tomorrow with some more possibilities. Even though she probably won't wear a tiara for awhile yet, it's still fun to think about!
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mathsandwhiteroses · 23 days
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Royal Tiara Challenge 2024: Favourite Spanish Tiara
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The Prussian Tiara
The sparkly elegance of this tiara makes it my favourite Spanish tiara by a wide margin. From Hanover to Greece to Spain, the Prussian tiara has travelled across Europe passing from mother to daughter as a wedding gift. It was last worn by Queen Letizia in March 2011 for the State Visit from Chile while she was Princess of Asturias.
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charlotte-of-wales · 10 months
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The royal wedding of Felipe, the Prince of Asturias and Letizia Ortiz ♡
The wedding of Prince Felipe and Letizia Ortiz was held on May 22nd 2004, in the Santa María la Real de La Almudena Cathedral at the Royal Palace of Madrid, Spain. The couple’s engagement was announced on November 1st, 2003.
The wedding was the first state wedding in Spain for more than 50 years, and the first royal wedding in almost a century to be held in the Spanish capital. More than 1200 guests attended the wedding, including from 36 royal houses and almost every head of state from Latin America.
Letizia wore the Prussian Tiara, also worn by Queen Sofia at her wedding. The wedding dress, designed by Manuel Pertegaz, was white, tight around the waist, with long sleeves, a neckline in the shape of a corolla, a wide skirt and a 4.5-meter long train embroidered with heraldic motifs. The bride's gown was woven with Valencia silk and embroidered with silver and gold threads. The nuptial veil was a gift from the Prince to Letizia; with a triangular shape, three meters long by two wide, of natural silk tulle in ivory white with scrolls and hand-embroidered wreaths, which mixed the fleur-de-lis and the spike. The shoes were made by the illicitana designer Pura López. Felipe wore the Great Tag suit of the Army.
Upon the wedding, Letizia received all constitutional titles recognized to the Prince as heir to the Spanish throne, such as: The Prince and Princess of Asturias, the title of the heir of the Crown of Castile; The Prince and Princess of Gerona, the title of the heir of the Crown of Aragón; The Prince and Princess of Viana, the title of the heir of the Kingdom of Navarre; The Duke and Duchess of Montblanch; The Count and Countess of Cervera; The Lord and Lady of Balaguer.
The royal wedding was broadcast by Spanish public television, reaching a national record as the most-watched television program ever with 25.1 million viewers in Spain alone. Approximately 5,600 media outlets from around the world covered the wedding with a potential audience of between 1.2 and 2 billion.
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loiladadiani · 8 months
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The European Royal Family that Queen Victoria created
This is a very interesting group of Royal guests assembled for the wedding of the parents of the future Phillip, Duke of Edinburg: Princess Alice of Battenberg (1885 - 1969) to Prince Andrew of Greece (1882 - 1944.) The wedding was celebrated at Darmstadt in 1903. I doubt I will be able to identify all these illustrious guests, but I will list the ones I recognize. There are representatives here from the Greek, Danish, German/Hessian/Prussian, and Russian Royal Houses. I count thirty-three adults and children in this picture.
Prince Heinrich of Prussia
Princess Heinrich of Prussia (nee Irene of Hesse)
Grand Duke Sergey Alexandrovich Romanov
Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna
Grand Duke Ernst Ludwig of Hesse
Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovna the Younger
Grand Duke Dmitry Pavlovich
Grand Duke George Mikhailovich
Grand Duchess Maria Georgevna
Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicholaevna
Grand Duchess Tatiana Nicholaevna
Princess Elizabeth of Hesse and by Rhine
Grand Duchess Olga Nicholaevna
Grand Duchess Maria Nicholaevna
Emperor Nicholas II
Empress Alexandra Feodorovna
Prince Nicholas of Greece and Denmark (Greek Nicky)
Prince George of Greece and Denmark (Greek Georgie
Queen Olga of the Hellenes
Prince Valdemar of Denmark
King Hakoon VII
There are roughly thirteen royalties I do not recognize, so if you identify anybody I haven't, please let me know. It is also possible I have made some incorrect identifications, especially among the Greek contingent.
This type of gathering stopped happening gradually, so these photos are treasures!
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whatthecrowtold · 1 year
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#unhallowedarts The Tale Of Lohengrin, Wagner and the Golden Age of Illustration
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“Aye , quick it is with the seeds of
change
With blessing and with bane.
But I deem it a thousand years shall run
Or ever beneath the open sun Thy voice shall sound again”
(T.W. Rolleston)
It was a knight in shining armour all right, albeit not white-steeded but pulled up the river Scheldt by a white swan, to save Elsa, ubiquitous damsel in distress, from dark Count Telramund’s cabal to usurp the Duchy of Brabant. In trial by combat, goes without saying, as it was the custom back in the days of King Henry the Fowler, which were at the turn of the 10th century when the place was part of the East-Frankish kingdom of Austrasia. Or so Richard Wagner would have it in his usually somewhat giddy take on Medieval epics and historical events. The valiant’s name, however, was Lohengrin, the one from Lothringen, Lorraine, obfuscating the man’s true origins: Lohengrin hailed from the grail castle Monsalvat, Wagner’s scene for “Parsifal” thirty years after “Lohengrin” premiered in Weimar in 1850.
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Lohengrin’s mystical provenance is one of the arch-Romantic opera’s central motifs and, of course, the Germans have a word for it, “Frageverbot”, the forbidden question after the man’s origins, checking at least two of the “tall, dark, stranger” three boxes. Lohengrin is a luminous figure, but a rather sad one and the story ends in tears when the hero sails, swan-propelled, into the sunset after his work is done. Bitter, but Wagner and the zeitgeist wouldn’t have it any other way.
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The tale of Lohengrin itself hails back to the High Middle Ages, honourably mentioned by Wolfram von Eschenbach in the early 13th century as Garin le Loherain in the minnesinger's “Parsifal”, gets two own contemporary verse epics and several variants of the swan knight theme over the next centuries until Wagner collected them all and crammed the rich material into his three hour opera, along with heroics from antiquity, elements that were perceived as Germanic paganism in the rather clouded view of the 19th century on Iron Age customs and beliefs and politics of Wagner’s own day when the Germans fought for their national unity. Along with romanticised Christian mysticism. Lohengrin is a grail knight, after all. And they do get properly married, Elsa and Lohengrin, to the sounds of “Here Comes the Bride”, no less, faithfully guided, “Treulich geführt” in Wagner’s original German from the opera’s libretto, a tune heard at the fabled joyous event across the globe ever since a Prussian royal wedding in 1858.
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Wirkmächtig, efficacious, and if only for said tune, even if the topic borrowed from the old tale of Zeus and Semele, the metaphysic being hiding its true identity because the partner-to-be, as the saying goes, “can’t handle the truth” should raise every imaginable red flag, Romantic mystery or not. Even if Lohengrin reveals his true identity in the end, before his picturesque exeunt when the king calls to arms to make war against the pagan marauding Hungarians down South.
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On that note, it is not without irony that Willy Pogany, born in 1882 in the back-then Austro-Hungarian city of Szeged, illustrated the tale of Wagner’s “Lohengrin” for Rolleston’s retelling with rich imagery that equals that of the better known Arthur Rackham’s of the “Ring” trilogy published around the same time. Pogany’s “Lohengrin” hit the booksellers’ shelves in 1911, along with “Parsifal” and “Tannhäuser”, when precious “gift books”, illuminated by the luminaries of the Golden Age of Illustration, were still all the rage as Christmas presents in a time when “education” was a hallmark of what passed as “better classes” back in the day.
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Pogany, pronounced PO-gahn, immigrated to the US before the Great War turned the world upside down in Europe, after getting properly married in London, revealing his true identity from the very beginning, goes without saying. He continued to illustrate mainly children’s books and stuck to his Art Nouveau-influenced style that sometimes reminds of Edmund Dulac, albeit with stronger lines and expressions than the Anglo-French better-known master would come up with in his dreamy takes on often the same themes as Pogany took on.
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T.W. Rolleston retelling of Wagner's "Lohengrin" along with all of Willy Pogany's enchanting (and often quite dark) illustrations can be cherished following the link to a facsimile below:
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losers-clvb · 4 months
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slow burn // two
pairing: lucas samos x nymph!female!reader
summary of chapter: it's the welcome party before the wedding. y/n and lucas are, visually at least, the perfect couple. of course, they can't get along for longer than a few seconds and get into an argument about a certain prince.
content of chapter: arguing, the royal family makes an appearance
word count: 1.4k
note: this is a little bit of a shorter chapter, but the next will be much longer.
You would have thought that out of everything, Y/N would have had control over how she was dressed for her welcome party. At least, that’s what she had thought. She was wrong. Her mother chose her dress, chose how tight to lace up the corset, chose everything. It was a Prussian blue thing, with silver fabric peeking through on the skirt. It wasn’t completely hideous, though Y/N would never admit it. She was wearing heels and, even though she had told her mother that there was absolutely no way that anyone would be able to see her feet, they were just as elaborate. Y/N was never one to complain about wearing a heel and sometimes would rather wear them over anything else, but these were making her feet ache within just ten minutes of wearing them.
Nonetheless, she had a smile plastered on her face. She wouldn’t be anything but a blushing bride. Her parents would be a horror to deal with if she was any other way, and all it would do was embarrass her. She couldn’t be caught being rude or in any way cold towards any guests. There would be nobles and government officials there, allies that her’s and Lucas’ families would need if the time ever came. Plus, it didn’t look as if Lucas was uncomfortable. He had a beaming smile on his face as he stood close to her, one hand occasionally grazing her back in a show of comfort, the other used to shake the hands of their guests. The medals and ribbons on his jacket seemed to glint in the light, showing everyone who could see them just how awarded her fiancé was.
What they didn’t see was the tightening of her jaw every time she felt his hand graze her back. She knew it was just another way to convince everyone that the two were in love, a way to save both their reputations even if everyone knew that their families had arranged the union. It was better this way. Better that the two looked to be in love rather than forced to marry. Then maybe Y/N wouldn’t be looked down upon with pity for her situation.
She was lost in this thought, mind straying away from the present due to boredom and the horrible pain in her feet, when an announcement of the arrival of the royal family sounded. Her eyes snapped to the entrance. The first to walk in were the King and Queen, looking as handsome and beautiful as anyone their age. They donned the colors of their houses, the King in red and black with his crown of flames atop his head, the Queen with her dress of navy blue and white with her own crown. While Delia had never quite enjoyed the company of the Queen, her icy gaze always sending a shiver down the girl’s spine, she had to admit she was strikingly beautiful. The two royals made their way to the couple, the smiles on their faces obviously ingenuine.
“Congratulations on the union,” the King merely said, eyes gliding over the two young Silvers. In response they bowed their heads.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Lucas spoke. Y/N was suddenly much more aware of his hand resting on her waist along with the fact that the older couple standing in front of them seemed just as uncomfortable with each other as herself and Lucas. She knew they weren’t married because they loved each other, but she would have hoped that after being together for so long that they would have figured out a way to be happy with one another. The sight did little to make her optimistic that one day she could have a comfortable life. If even the Queen wasn’t happy with her partner, the king, how could she? Y/N watched as the two made their way through the party while greeting others they were closer with. Her eyes tore away as they disappeared into the crowd, only the tops of their crowns seen moving away.
She watched as the two princes entered, both wearing jackets with just as many, if not more, medals than Lucas. She was sure that they hadn’t earned them as Lucas had, but that wasn’t for her to discuss. Despite both of the boys being Burners, Maven seemed to be much colder. He still held a smile upon his face, but there was something… off. Maybe it was the fact that his mother was Elara, or just because Y/N was just closer with his older brother. Cal, the heir to the throne, had been one of the only people that hadn’t excluded her from groups. She had been told numerous times, from Cal’s uncle Julian, that the late queen Corianne, Cal’s mother, had taken a liking to Delia before her death. She had been too young to remember, but from the stories she had heard, the old queen seemed like a beautiful soul.
“Congratulations, Y/N/N.” Cal spoke directly to Y/N, a wide grin appearing on his face as he used the childhood nickname he had given her. They had grown apart as they had gotten older, but the nostalgia was still there. Y/N had been given more opportunities to find a husband or a career that would help the family move up in court. Cal had been given more jobs and responsibilities in a move to help him be prepared for the throne. Neither could or would do anything less than what was expected of them in fear of the backlash from their families. They weren’t in love, and it wasn’t as if Cal could have the luxury of choosing his wife anyways.
“Thanks,” Y/N replied simply before adding on, “Your Highness.” She bowed her head as she had with the King. Maven was slightly less pleasant to greet. His icy blue eyes were similar to his mother’s, so different from Cal’s. The way he looked at her reminded her of the way others would look at her in training when she could perform a simple movement of the water in front of her. It had been years since then, and Maven hadn’t been much older than four or five at the time, but it was as if he had been there himself. But it wasn’t as if the boy was evil, right? He was just a kid still, only seventeen.
It was then Y/N realized she hadn’t even acknowledged his presence. Before she could greet him, or even open her mouth, Lucas beat her to it. She had forgotten he was even there, too caught up in thinking of the past.
“And thank you, Prince Maven, for attending.” Lucas greeted the younger boy, a forced smile upon his face. Y/N thought it was strange that even such a dedicated soldier as Lucas couldn’t find a way to be comfortable with the prince. The only response the officer had gotten was a simple nod and hum, which made Y/N frown slightly. She looked back to Cal, only getting a small shrug with a smile before the two boys continued on into the crowd, following their father and Maven’s mother.
Y/N hummed in annoyance, feeling Lucas shake with quiet laughter at her discomfort from the interaction. She looked up to him, furrowing her brows when he looked back at her.
“You find it funny that the prince looks down upon us?” She asked him, making sure she kept her voice quiet. She bit her lip to keep herself from bursting out in frustration as she had the week before when they had seen each other last.
“He’s the prince, there’s not much I can do about it. And what I find funny is how much it bothers you.” Lucas replied, his voice just as low as hers. “He seems to make you almost as bothered as I do.”
“That’s not possible.” She sniped back with narrowed eyes, seeming to forget that others were around them.
“What is it about me that makes you so furious all the time?”
When Y/N didn’t answer him, he smiled softly. He tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her twisted hairstyle behind her ear, lowering his head to speak into her ear.
“Try to keep that smile on your face until the end of the party.”
He turned away from her, going to speak with one of his friends from his time in the army. He left her with a flushed face and a strange feeling in her stomach. A feeling that didn’t fade away even after her mother ushered her over to the wife of the head of House Rambos to talk of wedding details.
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welldonebeca · 2 years
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For You (I)
Summary: Rey was married off to Armitage Hux, 12th Baron of Hux and a man filled with dangerous ambitions, at just 18, and became Queen at 19 after the death of her grandfather; Now, five years later, every day in her marriage was a ticking time bomb as her secret affair with Benjamin Solo, her chief of security – can be revealed at any moment to the press, and her husband plots to murder her. There’s no other choice. She had to kill him before he did it to her. It’s the only way. Pairing: Reylo WC: 1.8k Warnings: Violence, angst, (emotionally and physical) Hurt/Comfort, 1950s AU, Royal AU.
Masterlist
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Rey didn’t look to the side when Hux entered her room, knowing pretty much what he was there to do. The night was quiet and peaceful, but she wasn’t resting at ease. It was that time of the month again, and while any time before she would be hopeful and clinging to the smallest possibility of something good coming out of her situation, now her mind had changed.
“You can leave,” she brushed her hair back. “It’s not gonna happen.”
Her husband stopped, and when she looked over her shoulder, she could see how his belt was still unbuckled, and he had a hand midway through opening his pants.
“What, are you on your period?” Hux scoffed.
“No,” she put the hairbrush down. “We both know it’s not going to work. I don’t want to waste my time.”
He just rolled his eyes, lips curling in disgust and eyes rolling as he continued, disregarding what she had told him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he hissed. “Just lay down and raise your stupid dress, I’ll be quick.”
Rey didn’t move.
She’d married Armitage six years ago, a bit over a year before the death of her grandfather, the previous king, the tragedy that made her queen. He was a German Noble, already a Baron before their wedding was arranged by his parents and her grandfather, and probably the biggest disappointment she had ever lived.
Rey was always meant to be a queen. Her father was her grandfather’s only child, and she was her parents’ only child, as they died when she was still too young, leaving her as the only direct descendant.
Armitage Hux was the 12th Baron Hux, descending from the Prussian Royal Family, and the only reason she had even married him and not some other man was that he was the only one who could move into Exegol, as no other prince was much available for that.
What a big mistake.
“You can be as quick as you want,” she sighed. “It’s not like it’s going to make a difference.”
Rey needed children. At least two of them, to make sure the Palpatine line would continue to rule the country.
Hux could give her none.
It took their marriage only six months to become something miserable and just for show, and Rey’s ascension to the throne just made it worse: they only saw one another in official occasions and three days a month, during her fertile window, when he came to fuck her quickly and try to impregnate her.
She was done with it, and with him.
“So you’ve finally accepted that that frigid cunt of yours is good for nothing?” he snickered. “Took you long enough to realise you’re never going to give me a child. What a great queen you are, aren’t you, darling?”
Her blood boiled, but Rey only took a deep breath.
“I’m not the one with a problem here, Armitage,” she answered simply. “Putting the blame on me isn’t going to help you climb any invisible ladder you created in your head to the throne.”
Her husband swallowed down under her eyes, lips pulling back in a disgusted face.
“Would you blame me?” he asked, playing the innocent part. “With someone like you commanding them, this stupid place is going to crumble in less than a decade.”
He was a Baron. A German and Prussian Baron, and no more than that. Not a Prince or a King, and God forbid he stopped reminding her of it.
“Is that all you have to say?” Rey asked, impatiently. “Because if that’s it, you can turn around and leave.”
“I’m here for my royal husband duties,” he said simply.
“Then you can go,” she insisted. “We both know the only reason we even do this is for procreating, and you’re as dry as a bone.”
“Me?” he asked. “And how do you even know that?”
Rey shrugged, losing her patient already.
“Bazine told me,” she listed. “And Phasma… Oh, of course, we can’t forget that pretty redhead… what is her name again? ”
His face became paler and paler at each name she spoke. They were his lovers, his affairs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, are you sure?” Rey asked. “Because you should know they were all trying to get pregnant by you. And then there was Karin and… what’s her name? Mary Anne? Yeah, you never used any protection with them either.”
Her husband swallowed down, staring at her with his jaw clenched.
“I know about them,” she answered simply. “All of them, from the start. Enough women to justify legally requesting a divorce, it isn’t going to take more than six months to see myself free of you.”
Hux rubbed his hands down his shirt, growing more and more nervous.
“The church would never allow it.”
“Oh, they will,” Rey nodded, correcting him. “Some of your lovers are ready to be interrogated as witnesses.”
It took a split of a second for him to cross the room, and even less for his fist to collide with Her face, and the only reason she hadn’t been sent back a few steps was the way he was holding her arm.
It hurt, more than she was ever going to show him. Her cheekbone instantly started throbbing and aching, and she knew it would foster a bruise.
“And who is going to believe you or any of them?” he hissed. “The only proof of anything you have are your lies.”
Rey swallowed down, looking at where his big hand was wrapped around her arm.
Armitage had plenty of moments of aggression: he broke furniture and plenty of things when they were fighting and used very colourful language to talk to Rey, but this… this was the first time he ever laid a hand on her.
“I made you Queen,” he whispered. “And I can easily turn the tables on you. Everyone knows you’re the one who is failing to get pregnant, not me.”
“Don’t you think this bruise on my face is going to be enough to tell them, to tell anyone, you really are?” Rey spat out.
Her husband chuckled darkly.
“What do you mean?” he asked, absolutely cynical. “You stumbled and hit the doorknob.”
He released her with a push that sent Rey down to the floor, hitting her ass on the soft carpet, and fixed his pants, closing his belt and adjusting his shirt.
“I’ll take a trip,” he announced. “This place is souring my mood.”
Armitage walked out of the room and Rey blinked away the stubborn tears that insisted on showing on her eyes, still shocked by what had just happened, and stood up slowly, brushing her hands down her sleeping gown to try and clean it from whatever could have dirtied it.
She picked up your phone, pressing it against her ear and swallowing down before dialling the security office.
“Send in my chief of security,” she requested in an almost whisper.
“Yes, your majesty.”
She sat down on the closest armchair, taking in deep breaths to try to control herself.
She was done, simply done. Six years was more than enough, especially after his cheating. Everyone knew of it, and it was just time before it leaked to the press.
She would be humiliated.
“Your majesty?” Rey heard from outside her door.
“Come in.”
She looked to her side as he walked in, and was able to see Benjamin’s face changing slowly as he realised her state.
“Rey,” he whispered.
She didn’t answer and watched silently as he walked in her direction and knelt in front of her.
“What did he do?” he whispered.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to keep herself from crying in frustration.
“He punched me,” she finally answered. “And threw me on the floor.”
Ben’s face contorted into anger, but Rey could see him covering it up before standing up and walking to her phone, redialling the number to security’s office.
“Please, bring in an ice pack for her majesty, she had an accident.”
It wasn’t even three minutes later before someone knocked on her door again, giving Ben an icepack that he quickly pressed against her cheek, just watching her face as she clenched her jaw.
“He should be messing with someone his own size,” he muttered.
Rey sighed.
“I told him that I knew,” she whispered.
Benjamin frowned, confused.
“Everything you know?”
She shook her head.
Armitage had said he had made her Queen, and she knew that.
“About the women,” she corrected him. “And I told him about the divorce.”
He watched her silently.
“He doesn’t know I know it was him,” Rey sighed. .
Her grandfather was old when he died, but it was still initially seen as an accident – it was reported as an accident – but she knew better now. After investigations directed by Ben himself – the only person Rey knew she truly had in this world – she had found out her husband had been directly involved with sabotaging his car and causing his deaths.
He made her Queen just so that he could be King, and then kill her.
Benjamin moved a hand to her face and brushed his thumb over her lips.
“What do you want to do?”
She swallowed down, unable to really answer, to tell him the truth.
“He won’t give me the divorce,” Rey whispered, looking away. “I know it.”
Ben shifted on his place, and raised his chin, looking at her with determination on his beautiful face.
“I’ll kill him,” he affirmed.
Rey turned to him with wide eyes, shocked by his words and feeling her heart pounding in her chest.
“I will,” he repeated. “I’m just waiting for you to tell me to do it.”
She swallowed down and breathed in, and nodded slowly.
“Please.”
. . .
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drosera-nepenthes · 2 years
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The most recent war wedding at the German Court was that of Prince Joachim to Princess Marie Auguste of Anhalt. That took place just a year after I had left Potsdam. The Princess Marie Auguste had  the reputation of being one of the most smartly attired royalties in Germany; she habitually wore a veil, which she had to removed in the presence of the Empress, a thing that greatly annoyed her. She was once among a party of half-a-dozen Royal ladies who were with the Empress at a concert, and on that occasion she ventured to wear a veil, trusting perhaps that the Empress would not notice it, as she was sitting at some distance from Her Majesty. The Empress at first apparently did not do so, but during an interval in the concert the Princess received a message from the Empress by a lady-in-waiting calling her attention to the fact that she was wearing a veil and asking her kindly to remove it, which the Princess did with a very bad grace.
Seven Years at the Prussian Court, Edith Keen, 1916
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The other day I had an ask about Sophie's marriage to Ferdinand d'Orléans. In the answer I quoted a fragment of an account of the wedding by Prince Hohenlohe-Schilling, which in turn was quoted in Erika Bestenreiner's book about Elisabeth and her siblings. Well I should have digged a bit deeper because it turns out that the Prince's memoirs from which said quote comes from had been translated to English, so we actually have his full account of the celebrations. You can read the whole thing here, which includes tons of biased descriptions of several of the royal guests, but also really bad smell in your guest room, someone looking at you like if you were a scorpion and a mediocre perfomance of one of Verdi's operas during Mass.
STARNBERG, September 28, 1868.
In obedience to the Royal command I came to this place to attend, as Minister of the Household, the marriage of the Duchess Sophie with the Duc d'Alençon, son of the Duc de Nemours. Prince Adalbert and Minister Pfretzschner were appointed to act as witnesses. As the latter preferred to spend the night at Starnberg, I decided to leave yesterday afternoon at half-past two. We arrived at four o'clock, took possession of our rooms at the Hotel am See, and then took a walk, dined at five o'clock and then went down again to the shore of the lake in hopes of seeing something of the illuminations which were to take place nominally in honour of the Czarina of Russia then staying at Berg. But it was nine o'clock, and as nothing happened we preferred not to wait about any longer, and soon got to bed. The fireworks and illuminations would seem to have been very fine, but very little could be seen here. It was Sunday, and consequently a numerous and beery contingent of the general public had taken post under our windows, and kept up a horrible din and shouting. At intervals they sang ''popular airs," but these almost immediately degenerated into mere brutish yells. However, I soon fell asleep, especially as a wholesome storm of rain dispersed the gang. This morning I went to the railway station to see the Empress of Russia depart. Tauffkirchen* was there too, to pay his respects to the Empress. The King accompanied the Empress and travelled some distance with her on the railway in the direction of Munich, but I do not know how far.
At ten we drove over to Possenhofen in my carriage, which I had had brought here yesterday. It was not eleven o'clock yet, so we were taken first to our rooms. In mine there was a villainous bad smell. Soon the time for the wedding ceremony arrived, which took place in a hall of the Castle transformed into a chapel. The guests assembled in the adjoining salon, where a grand piano further blocked the scanty space available. Pfretzschner and I hastened to get ourselves presented to all personages of rank. Besides the family of the Duke Max, Prince Adalbert and Prince Karl were there. The latter bowed to me across the room with a look such as one generally bestows upon a scorpion. Then Count and Countess Trani. The Hereditary Princess Taxis wore a mauve or violet dress trimmed with white. Others present were the Comte de Paris and his brother, the Duc de Chartres, two young and well-built princes, but who give the impression rather of Prussian than of French princes. The Duc de Nemours looked like a French dandy from the Cercle de l'Union. He wore the Order of St. Hubert, as did his son, the bridegroom. The Duc de Nemours recalls the portraits of Henri IV., yet he has a certain look of his own that makes you set him down as a pedant. The young Duc d'Alençon is a handsome young man of a fresh countenance. The Prince de Joinville and his son, the Duc de Penthièvre, have nothing very striking about them. The former is old-looking and bent, too old-looking for his age, dignified and courtly. The Duc de Penthièvre has a yellow, rather Jewish face, and speaks with a drawl, but was very kind and friendly to me. Duke August of Coburg is as tedious as ever. I was interested to become acquainted with his wife, the Princess Clementine, a clever, lively woman. The Princess Joinville, a Brazilian Princess, is rather mummified, with big rolling eyes in a long, pale, wrinkled face. Then there were two daughters of Nemours there too, one grown up, the other a little girl. The ladies were all in "high dresses." The bride in white silk, trimmed with orange blossom, with head-dress of orange blossom and a tulle veil. On the sleeves braids of satin, after the pattern of the Lifeguardsmen's stripes. A lady-in-waiting attached to the Nemours party wore a flame-coloured silk with straw-coloured trimmings. When all were assembled, we proceeded to the chapel. The bridal couple knelt before the altar. Behind them, on the left, Prince Adalbert, behind him we two Ministers, and then behind us the gentlemen of the House of Orleans. On the other side the Duc de Nemours and the Duchess, likewise all the Princesses. Hancberg began the ceremony with a suitable address. Nobody cried, but Duke Max looked rather like it once or twice. The bride appeared extremely self-possessed. Before the "affirmation" the bridegroom first made a bow to his father, and the bride did the same to her parents. The Duchess's "Yes" sounded very much as if she meant "Yes, for my own part," or "For aught I care." I don't wish to be spiteful, but it sounded like that to me. After the wedding, I kissed the Duchess's hand, and congratulated her. She seemed highly gratified and pleased. The pause between the wedding ceremony and the State dinner we spent in our room. I forgot, by-the-by, to say that during the Mass a military band played an accompaniment to the religious ceremony. It began with the overture to one of Verdi's operas, I don't know whether it was Traviata or Trovatore. It was but a mediocre performance, the sort of stuff you hear played at dinners.
The State dinner was held downstairs in two halls. In one sat all Royal personages and myself along with Pfretzchner, in the other the courtiers. The health of the bridal pair was drunk without speechmaking. I sat between the young Princess of Coburg and Duke Ludwig. The dinner was not particularly long, nor was it particularly good either. On rising from table there was some more standing about, and then all the company separated. The Orleans Princes took their departure at once, about half-past four, as did the other Princes. Only the Duc de Nemours stays on till the day after tomorrow with his children.
We drove back to Starnberg in one of the Ducal carriages, from whence we return to-day to Munich by the eight o'clock train.
At dinner the "Wedding Chorus" from Lohengrin was played. It must have been singularly agreeable to the King's ex-fiancée. Another odd coincidence was that the very evening before, the lake and mountains were illuminated (for the Czarina), and the King had to celebrate in this way his erstwhile fiancée's bridal eve.
The Comte de Paris spoke to me about war and peace, and maintains that popular feeling in France is opposed to war. But he said it was difficult to gauge public opinion in France, the Press is so wanting in independence.
He is a sensible, well-meaning man, who would make an excellent Constitutional King of France.
*Count Tauffkirchen was at that time Bavarian Minister at St Petersburg.
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Deutsch/English (second text!)
👑 Ein preußisches Diadem im Besitz Königin Margrethes II. von Dänemark Das häufig von Margrethe II. getragene sehr repräsentative Diadem mit zahlreichen Diamanten und großen Tropfenperlen war zusammen mit anderen Juwelen ein Hochzeitsgeschenk König Friedrich Wilhelms III. von Preußen für seine jüngste Tochter Luise (1808-1870). Prinzessin Luise heiratete im Mai 1825 ihren Cousin Prinz Wilhelm Friedrich der Niederlande (1797-1881). Das Prinzenpaar lebte in den Niederlanden in einem ›Huize De Paauw‹ genannten klassizistischen Palais in Wassenaar sowie auf seinen preußischen Besitzungen Schloss Muskau in der Oberlausitz und im schlesischen Schloss Schildau, das König Friedrich Wilhelm III. 1839 seiner Tochter schenkte. Unter den Linden in Berlin stand dem Paar das sogenannte Niederländische Palais als Absteigequartier zur Verfügung. Bis heute erinnert die Luisenstraße in Berlin-Mitte an die Prinzessin, von der ihr Vater Friedrich Wilhelm III. meinte, sie sähe ihrer früh verstorbenen Mutter sehr ähnlich. Über ihre gleichnamige Tochter ist Prinzessin Luise eine der Stammmütter der heutigen dänischen Königsfamilie und die dreifache Urgroßmutter Königin Margrethes II. Text © Thomas Weiberg; Fotos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Portait Friedrich Wilhelms III. im Schloss Charlottenburg.)
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👑 A Prussian tiara owned by Queen Margrethe II of Denmark
Often worn by Margrethe II, this very prestigious tiara with numerous diamonds and large pearls was, together with other jewellery, a wedding gift from King Frederick William III of Prussia for his youngest daughter Luise (1808-1870).
Princess Luise married her cousin Prince William Frederick of the Netherlands (1797-1881) in May 1825. The princely couple lived in the Netherlands in a neoclassical palace called 'Huize De Paauw' in Wassenaar as well as at their Prussian estates Muskau Castle in Upper Lusatia and Schildau Castle in Silesia, which King Frederick William III gave to his daughter in 1839. Under the Linden trees in Berlin, the so-called Dutch Palace was available to the couple as a place to stay. To this day, Luisenstraße in Berlin-Mitte commemorates the princess, who her father Friedrich Wilhelm III thought looked very much like her mother, who died young. Through her daughter of the same name, Princess Luise is one of the progenitors of today's Danish royal family and the triple great-grandmother of Queen Margrethe II.
Text © Thomas Weiberg; Photos © Det danske kongehus; Thomas Weiberg (Portrait of Frederick William III in Charlottenburg Palace.)
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✵ May 4, 1938 ✵
Grand Duchess Kira Kirillovna of Russia & Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia
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Royal Wedding on 11 March 1916 in Berlin.
Prince Joachim of Prussia (25) and Princess Marie Auguste of Anhalt (17).
#rare photo
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europesroyalsjewels · 4 years
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Prussian Diamond Tiara ♕ Queen Emerita Sofia
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charlotte-of-wales · 1 year
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Royal Tiaras Highlights: The Prussian Diamond Tiara
The tiara was made by the German court jeweler, Koch, as a wedding gift to Princess Viktoria Louise in May 1913. Viktoria was the only daughter of Kaiser Willhelm II and her marriage to Prince Ernst August on Hanover meant the union of two German royal houses that had long been enemies.
The piece was then gifted to Viktoria and Ernst’s daughter, Princess Friederike, on occasion of her wedding to Prince Paul of Greece and Denmark, later King Paul of the Hellenes, in 1938. The tiara was then passed onto Princess Sophia of Greece and Denmark, later Queen Sofia of Spain, and it remains in possession of the Spanish Royal Family ever since.
Via The Court Jeweller
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Kira Kirillovna on her wedding day with her husband Louis Ferdinand and grandfather-in-law Kaiser Wilhelm II [supersized].
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