False Pretences


She had always known that she would fall in love with a Phillip. She deserved a regal gentleman; the numerous Thomas's and William's of the court were too common for her. They all panted after the women of the court like little dogs, seeking favour and night-time rendezvous. She was a Princess, even if her father had forced her to deny herself of the title she honestly deserved, and she deserved someone that would treat her like his Queen.

Her father would never allow to arrange her own marriage though. She was to be used like a pawn in his ever-confusing international strategies- first betrothed to France, then Spain and so on and so on. Honestly, she was sick and tired of working herself up to be shipped off a foreign country and then having the marriage plans fall through, time after time. Was she destined to become an old maid, a woman who never married and never had any offspring? Her greatest desire in life was to be as happy as her mother had been when her father had truly adored her, all she wanted was to be told that she was perfect and be loved- by anyone.

And then Duke Phillip came to court, all blue eyes and charm. She allowed herself to be charmed by him, allowed herself to think of future in Bavaria with him, surrounded by children and happiness. She allowed him to kiss her, allowed him to stare into her eyes in hopes of drowning himself in her.

All she wanted was to be with him forever, and always.

But as it was with everything that happened in her life that caused her happiness, he went back to Bavaria, leaving her completely and hopelessly alone. She was surrounded by the court, praised as a magnificent jewel to the King, but she had never felt so alone.

Nothing could have ever happened with her and Duke Phillip, she tried to convince herself. He was a devout Lutheran and she would never renounce her religion. No matter how handsome and charming he may have been, she could never had truly loved him, with her heart and soul. Her mother would not approve, and she would never do anything to injure her beloved mother's memory.

But she would marry a Phillip.

The other men of the court could simply not meet her standards, she needed someone regal, someone who could erase the pain of Duke Phillip's sudden departure.

She needed someone she could pretend to love.

After all, hadn't her father taught her the art of pretending? He had pretended to hate her, made her think he would kill her. He had pretended that he had loved her mother fully, when all the while he had been sneaking around with that whore. He had thrown countless women in her face, constant reminders that they were taking her mother's place and she could never do anything to stop the cycle.

Princess Mary was one to follow by example.