Margaret Tudor (sassy_margaret) wrote in tudorcourt, @ 2009-12-27 18:37:00 |
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They had only recently arrived to port and they were whisked off to horse and carriage to carry them up a disheveled road up the side of a hill that led them to Belém Palace -- an hour or so from the port. Margaret sat uneasily in the carriage with her ladies. She detested everything about this place, it's smell, it's sights, she found nothing appealing or attractive to her new land.
They arrived to the Palace and her first thought was ... ostentatious. Followed quickly by opulent, gaudy and many other words that she wouldn't say aloud. She had been shown around ... as customary but she didn't seem very interested. In the least bit. Rather, she complained of exhaustion from her long trip and asked to be shown to her room. Her ladies bustled about -- looking over every knick-knack in the room, that had ... in all honesty, beautifully arranged. Had it been in England she would have never wanted to leave but it was in Portugal and she couldn't find anything she took pleasure in from this place. She stood idly, her hands clasped on top of the material of her dress. "Duke," she said as she moved away from everyone in the room flaunting over the opulence of the stone work of her fireplace -- she moved toward the bay window. Her gray eyes watched from above at the gardens below for only the moment it took Charles to join her at the window.