Paring: Princess Mary/Philip of Bavaria.
Their lips met, away from prying eyes.
The kiss was slow and sweet and tender and Philip thinks everything is fine until she starts to cry.
The young woman in question has never felt so, so, happy.
It is a potent word, and one that she has barely had use for since that dreadful moment when her father turned from her.
But for once. Just once. That is all forgotten.
That kiss makes her feel special. It makes her feel loved.
" Why are you crying?" and Mary almost cries out from joy when she sees nothing but concern in his eyes.
" Only because I am so happy."
And in that moment, when their lips meet once again, it doesn't matter that Philip is a heretic, it doesn't matter that as a Duke he is below her in social standing and it doesn't even matter that she shouldn't be meeting a man alone, let alone kissing him.
Like secret lovers. She thinks and the words make her shiver inside.
Mary finally has something that is wholly hers, and hers alone.
She is loved.
Not even her father could take that from her.
Mary should have known better than that.
She should have known that she could never have a happy ending because she is Mary Tudor, second best.
Always.
When her father sends her first bit of happiness away she feels her heart breaking.
This was exactly how her mother must have felt.
She lies, for the first time in her life she lies and prays that God will forgive her because she can never, never admit that she loved him with her whole heart and soul.
Because love is weakness,
God knows she's suffered for loving her mother and loving her father.
And because she is Mary Tudor and she is the girl who never cries.