Chapter One
Henry stirred, the light in the room alerting his groggy senses that it was time to rise for the day. A smooth hand ran sleepily up his arm, and he turned to smile at the dark-haired mistress who had occupied his life and his bed for so many years. Much as he enjoyed her, he was already looking forward to the evening he had planned with Kenna, his younger mistress. He smiled at his good fortune – what it was to be King! He had the country and the nobles under his control, and heirs enough to make the rulers of other countries envious. At one time, it had been thought that there might be no heirs for the King and Queen of France, but there had been no need for concern after all. The strain of the years waiting for children had cost him his marriage, but at least he had Diane and Kenna, and well, any woman he damn well chose to have. He did not want for anything. He pushed away a hint of bitter heartache that welled up at that thought, and turned the covers back, climbing out of bed.
Pulling on his robe, he tied it securely around his middle just in time for the door to open and his wife to stroll in. He looked at her questioningly, and she cast a look of disgust at the woman in his bed, before pulling herself up to full height (which was in fact, less than she made it appear), and addressing him with false cheerfulness.
"Ah, Henry. You're up."
He returned the sentiment. "As you see, Catherine. To what do I owe the pleasure of this early visit?"
"What I have to say cannot be said in front of her." She gestured sourly with her hand towards Diane, who was pulling herself into a sitting position in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. Henry followed his wife's gaze, and then turned back to her.
"Diane and I do not have any secrets. There is no need for her to leave."
"I thought she was in Paris. I wouldn't have dreamed of disturbing the two of you if I had thought she was here." Her voice was laced with bitterness and sarcasm. Henry could hear the hurt in her tone, but to him, it translated as resentfulness and jealousy. He sighed with exasperation.
"Can this not wait, Catherine? This is not the way I had planned to start my day."
She scoffed. "So I see!"
In the uncomfortable silence, Diane reached for her robe and pulled it on. Approaching Henry, she paused at his side, laying her hand on his arm sensually. "It's alright, Henry," she purred. "I'll give you some space to talk to Catherine." She kissed his cheek and, giving Catherine a side-glance with a slight smile, she crossed the room to pick up her dress and shoes, and disappeared into the adjoining wash room, closing the door behind her.
Henry turned his attention back to Catherine.
"Now, what is so important?"
Catherine shifted uncomfortably, clasping her hands before her, and looking momentarily as though she wasn't sure how to begin.
"I wanted to talk to you before your meeting this morning. I wanted…. to try to help you see that aggressively pursuing England is not the answer at this time."
An expression of annoyance crossed Henry's face. "And you are suddenly an advisor to the King now, are you? Suddenly you know better than my most trusted, most experienced men?" He turned abruptly and strode with irritation to the table, helping himself to some grapes from the fruit bowl with his back to his Queen.
"I've seen as much as they have over the years, perhaps more!" Catherine's voice rose slightly. "And unlike some of your advisors, I have France's best interests at heart."
"Oh, is that so?!" Henry turned on his heel, sarcasm dripping from his words, before letting out a bitter huff. "I'm sure your motives are as they always were – self-preservation. What really serves your purpose in persuading me to release my grip on England, hmm?"
Catherine took a step towards him, her eyes betraying concern now – almost fear, Henry thought as he watched her. She spoke again in a quieter, less certain voice.
"The Valois is France's best interest. My goal is to protect my children and their legacy. I have heard…" She faltered, taking another step closer to Henry. "I have heard that you may be considering Sebastian as the next King of France, instead of Francis, if Mary will not marry him."
Henry looked down at the tiled floor, his hands clasped behind his back, and his shoulders straight.
"Yes," he replied, "I have considered it."
Catherine closed the gap between them quickly, her tension evident. "All to take hold of England?! Don't you see that there's more at stake than just Francis?! Charles, Henri, Hercule – the rightful line of succession would be usurped, and their lives put at risk, all for England!" She grasped his sleeve, her temper rising. "And I'm sure that parasite Diane would be only too glad to rid French Court of me and take my place as Queen!"
Henry shook off her hand. "Enough!" She stepped back, silent for a moment. "This is not your decision to make, Catherine."
"I should be allowed a say in my sons' futures! What you're considering is an injustice! I have every right as their mother and as Queen of France - "
"It is not your place, and you know it. I am King. I make the decisions, whether they are to your liking or not." Seeing her chin lifted in angry defiance, he added, "And don't think I am not aware of your way of dealing with things that are beyond your control." Catherine turned away with a huff, but Henry grasped her by the wrist and held her still. Her eyes rose slowly from his hand on her arm, to meet his eyes, unsure of what she might see in them.
"I will not allow it, Catherine. Do you hear me? If you go against my wishes in this case, I will have you executed. I am King, I will find a reason if I have to. Your place is as Queen Consort, not ruler of France."
Tears of anger and hurt came to her eyes as she stared him down silently, her chin set and her mouth a tight line of frustration. Henry felt a pang of regret for his fierce words as he saw her colour rise, and her eyes shining with emotion. He had not expected that. Not wanting to show her the tenderness she was stirring inside him, he dropped her wrist and looked away, straightening his shoulders.
He heard her take a breath and let it out in the silence, before speaking to him again, her voice controlled and steady.
"Always so quick to threaten to take my life. You know, Henry, if you use a blade too often, it becomes blunt and doesn't cut like you intend it to."
Though she was hurting terribly inside, Catherine stood bold and elegant, her shoulders back and her chin lifted, trying to make sure that Henry should have no idea of her true feelings. It was working, as it always did. He was convinced that she was impervious to anything that he threw her way in his anger. She never showed any hint of feeling, and he believed the rumours about her, that she was cold and black-hearted, incapable of love. The hurt in his eyes revealed itself as anger as he turned to face her again.
"If you had ever shown me a hint of affection, I might not be so inclined to do away with you!"
Catherine huffed indignantly, "Is your memory really so poor?! How convenient for you to remember only the years where you've put me aside, and not those first years when we loved each other!"
Henry sighed, tired of this conversation. "We've been over this before, Catherine. It's a pointless discussion. Whatever happiness we had in those years has been irrevocably damaged by your decision to put everything in your life ahead of me, ahead of us."
His wife, her anger rising, moved quickly to stand in front of him. "Can you not for once put aside your childish pride, and see the situation as it really is?! You only look at your own feelings! It's all so one-sided!" She clenched her fists in frustration. "No matter how many times I explain it to you, you simply will not consider - "
Catherine broke off and turned away, walking to the window. Henry's curious eyes followed her, watching her as she stood bathed in the morning light, still and thoughtful now as she looked out over the castle grounds, her fire apparently out.
"Consider what?"
She didn't move, but spoke quietly after a pause. "My feelings, Henry."
He scoffed slightly. "Do you have any?"
The look she gave him over her shoulder was withering. He enjoyed the rise he got out of her by pushing her, but something in him gnawed anxiously, as though he was hurting her and he didn't want to. Even though she didn't seem hurt, he couldn't shake the feeling, and tried again in a more reasonable tone.
"What feelings are you speaking of, Catherine?"
She seemed to shake herself suddenly. "What does it matter." It was a flat statement, not a question, muttered almost to herself rather than to Henry.
She turned, her shoulders squared and her quiet thoughtfulness gone, as she approached him with confidence once more. "You hardly have time to talk to your wife right now, with all the pressures of your day upon you." She glanced at the closed door to the wash room with a tight smile. "Diane will be finished and ready to join you in just a moment. Or will she move along and allow Kenna her turn at occupying the King?"
Henry's jaw tightened. Before he could respond, she continued, her sarcasm evident through her tone. "What a thing it is to be King of France! What privileges are afforded you!" She gave a bitter laugh, casting her gaze down at her hands as she folded her fingers together. "If only I could enjoy the same favour! Lovers at my beck and call, ready and willing to satisfy my every need. Power to just take the life of anyone who happens to annoy me - "
"ENOUGH!" Henry's angry voice rang off the stone walls of his chambers. The audacity of this woman! Whether she annoyed him or not, whether he chose to share his body with her or not, he could not stand to think of her in the arms of another, when she belonged to HIM. It made his blood boil, and more so that she was enjoying teasing him with it.
"I will NOT have you speak that way! You know perfectly well that a Queen cannot take a lover, and that such a treasonous act would mean your execution. And yet you taunt me on the subject?!"
Catherine sighed. "Yes, you've made that abundantly clear." She reached out, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder and looking into his eyes. "Henry… do you even remember the last time we were intimate? How long has it been?"
He looked down abruptly. "It's not as though there is any further need for heirs, Catherine."
"So my use is over? I'm to be tossed on the pile now, irrelevant, while you play with other toys? Really, Henry, is that how you would treat your wife and Queen?!"
In the strained silence as the King and Queen faced each other down, the door to the adjoining room opened, and Diane, dressed for the day, slunk across the room to Henry's side.
"It's time for you to leave, Catherine." Henry's voice was dangerously low and soft, as Diane curled her hand around his forearm. "I have duties to attend to, as I'm sure you do too."
Holding his gaze with a fiery expression for a moment, Catherine turned and swept out of the room without another word. She knew when she was being dismissed and she hated it. Complying was the safest option, but she was not done with him yet.