Note: Anyone who is a history buff is going to notice that I'm sticking strictly to what actually happened, so I'm going to inform you of a few of my changes now. Historically Charles Brandon was born 1483 or 1484 I'm calling w.p. and having him born 1499, because frankly who wants to read about a man in his 50s falling for a teenager, that's just creepy. So in this he never marries Princess Mary, but he still has two daughters from his first marriage to Anne Browne and they will play a part in this. Also Anne Bolyn she was born in either 1501 or 1509, I'm usng the younger age just so we're clear. If you have any questions, feel free to reveiw or pm me and I'll do my best to answer, and if you come up with any other historical inaccuracies let me know and I'll let you know if it was a mistake or a w.p.

London, July 1531

Celeste looked out her window thinking of how she had gotten there. There being the Tower of London. Well, she supposed it all started when the Grand Duke of Tuscany called her into his study. . .

Florence, April 1531

Celeste knocked on the door and patiently waited to be allowed into the study. She did not know why she had been called by Alessandro, but she did know that if she opened that door without being called in she would offend him. If there was anything her father taught her about court, it was not to offend any of the di'Medicis. They enjoyed a good execution.

"Come in Mariabella." She shivered at the use of her formal name. It meant he had a visitor.

She squared her shoulders and went through the door. "Buon giorno." She said executing a perfect curtsy to Alessandro.

Alessandro stood behind his desk holdind a hand out to her. "Come Mariabella. Sit." She hastily obeyed his command and only then did she look at the other person in the room. It was not someone she recognized. "Sir Garnish may I present to you the Dona Mariabella di'Tartaglia of Montemurlo; my future daughter." The man bowed his head to her and she returned the courtesy with one of her own. "Mariabella, Sir Christopher Garnish. He has come here on behalf of King Henry of England."

She nodded and looked back at Sir Garnish. "Yes, he was hoping to have an ambassador from Florence at his court. I was sent to bring said ambassador back with me if possible."

Celeste looked to Alessandro sending the silent message 'Why am I here?'.

Alessandro met her eyes and answered the unasked question. "You are to marry Ferdinand next fall. I want you to have diplomatic experience before taking on the role of Duchess of Tuscany. You will go with Cosimo and his party to London and return next June."

She didn't know what to think. She had been trained from the cradle to take on such a responsibility as this, but she was scared. As frightened as she was she knew she could not say no without it bringing adverse effects on her family. So she swallowed hard and continued to meet Alessandro's eyes. "Si Signore."

"You may leave now Mariabella." Celeste got up and left without a word.

Yes, she had been nervous and just a bit frightened, but it hadn't gotten bad until her father had talked to her about England and the true debauchery that is the English court. . .

"Women give each other their favors freely. The men will expect it of you because you will have no real protector while you are there. Only the name of a fiancée, and one that has no semblance of ever caring for you because he is not there by your side."

"Papa, you know as well as I do I must go, and yet you stand here trying to convince me to stay whilst I am packing." She put her purple gown into the trunk (This she believes to be her first mistake because everything leading up to that had not been her fault and the purple really was her best gown).

Domnio sighed. "I am just concerned for your safety Celeste. You are to be the next Duchess of Tuscany, but that will not stop the wolves of court."

Celeste turned to face her father and cupped his jaw in one of her hands, "I will be fine Papa, and if I am not I will write to you at the first sign of my distress to go along with all the other letters you will receive from me."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a tight squeeze. "Do not worry Papa, you and mother have trained me well for this obligation."

Sure, she had had extensive training in decorum, literature, and languages. In money, religion, horses, leather trade, grapes, olives, and fashion. But through her entire sixteen years, never had she been told by anyone she was not to wear purple in England because you could be executed for it.

Yes, that was the reason Celeste sat there in a cell in the Tower; she wore her best gown to meet the king and it just happened to be an illegal color. Could her life get any worse? She certainly thought not.

It was hours later when the door to her cell was flung open and a man came into the room. The door was closed firmly behind him and then he looked at her as she looked at him. He sat in a chair across from her at the little table, putting down paper, quill, and ink. Then he spoke, "Just who are you and why did you wear a purple gown to court?"

Celeste was deliberating whether to speak her English with an accent or not when he growled, "Well, I don't want to be here all day."

"Si," Her accent won out. She said quietly, "and if I had a choice I would not be here at all."

"Again, what is your name?"

She sighed. "I am Dona Mariabella Celeste Giovanna Aurora di'Tartaglia of Montemurlo. I am here under the orders of Alessandro di'Medici as an emissary to the Tudor court."

His jaw dropped for just a moment and if she wasn't so highly trained she would have smirked at his reaction. As it was she just sat there while he collected himself.

"And why pray tell Dona, did you wear the offensive color?"

She tilted her head to the side and gave an indelicate shrug. "It is my best clothing."

The man shook his head and looked down at the paper he had out in front of him. "You may write to whomever you choose to make them aware of the situation. If you really are the Dona Mariabella, may I suggest writing to Cosimo and perhaps your father." He stood up and went to the door. "Knock on the door when you are finished and someone will take them from you. Good day Dona."

Celeste reached for the items he had left on the table and spread them out in her usual fashion before dipping the quill in ink and beginning. . .

To Don Domnio di'Tartaglia of Montemurlo

Dearest Papa,

Excuse the lack of crest in the wax, I will explain later.

I have been in England already for two weeks and today was the first opportunity there would be to meet the King. I say there would be because. . .