Hey, everyone! How are you guys?

I've finally finished the second chapter. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to upload, but my muse for The Tudors had ran away to the magical world of Harry Potter. If any of you are Potterheads like I am, go check out my two new stories — Jinx It & Edge of Seventeen — and leave a review to let me know what you think.

Anyways…. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Chapter 3 is currently in the making as you read this so I plan to have it up soon, but I make no promises.

*More information, along with credits and disclaimers can be found below.


Steelegirl19: I hope you like this chapter, too. I'm trying to go about all the different angles and relationships Henry had, and I thought that a female Brandon would be a good way to start.

HPuni101: Again, thank you so much. I couldn't do this without you.

Nic: Thank you, and Henry won't be finding out about Buckingham's behavior until later chapters.

HermioneandMarcus: Thank you!

CCL: I hope you continue to enjoy.

BeyondB21: 5 out of 5? Thank you so much!

Musicluver246: Thank you.

TwilightEclps: I'm sorry I've made you wait for so long.

Guest (who I think has reviewed multiple times): Rosemary will marry Buckingham, and if you haven't read my other Tudor story then you wouldn't know that I have OCD when it comes to history. Buckingham didn't die until 1521, and as of right now we are in 1514 so it's going to be awhile until I can kill him off. Josephine is a pretty name, though! But I haven't truly decided who I want to play Rosemary. Honestly, it's between Katie McGrath from when she played in Merlin because she just had that fiery spirit to her even though she turned evil, and she was truly meant to be a Queen, or Jessica De Gouw because she played in NBC's Dracula and her character Mina was obviously the love interest of Dracula who was played by our very own Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Although, I'm leaning more towards Katie McGrath.

Emmettluver2010: I'll try to update more often. My muse has come back to me.

Saddlebrat: Thank you!

Anne: Your review made me laugh so hard. I've never heard someone say that before. I must admit that Buckingham was more manly than Henry, which always did bother me. In actual history, Henry was tall, well built, and had an athletic body. I appreciated Eric Bana's portrayal of Henry VIII in The Other Boleyn Girl even though he had dark hair instead of red. And I happened to watch the tv series of Robin Hood here and there, but I always thought he did an excellent job.

Guest (who I think is the same Guest from before): I plan on finishing both my Tudor stories, and I will never abandon any of the stories that I put on this site. It may take me a while to finish them, but they will one day be completed.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Mrs. Morgan 35: I hope you like this chapter.

Lady Syndra: Thank you for your kind words. Hopefully my updates will be a little more frequent now.


Chapter 2: 7th–24th June, 1514; The Field of the Cloth of Gold

"You know that was wrong of you to do, yes?"

"I know, Aunt Rosemary."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because he wiped my kiss away!" The young Princess Mary stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "Who does he think he is? He was very lucky that I wanted to kiss him."

Rosemary stifled her bubbling laughter. Mary may have favored her mother look wise, but her attitude was all Henry. Her niece was a prim and proper princess with a beautiful face, but hot Tudor blood ran through her veins which made her temperamental. Rosemary thought it was sweet that Mary looked up to her father, but she doubted that Henry was the best person to idolize.

"I believe he thinks he is the Dauphin of France." Leaning down to lift Mary into her arms, Rosemary said, "It wasn't nice to push him, though."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Rosemary." With the power of her rosy cheeks and big brown eyes, Mary could have anyone wrapped around her fingers.

Kissing her niece's cheek, Rosemary smiled. "I think you should apologize to your mother."

The second Mary had pushed the Dauphin down, Rosemary's eyes sought out for the Queen. Catherine of Aragon disliked the French and she was strongly against the betrothal between Mary and the Dauphin. The Queen thought that Mary should have been promised to someone of Spanish blood. Like her nephew, King Charles V of Spain, the Holy Roman Emperor, who was more than a decade older than Mary. The age gap didn't bother Rosemary so much, although Mary was far too young, it was the fact that it would be a cousin marriage. That was perverse, that was incest, and it showed how deeply the Queen disliked the French. But the look of embarrassment that filled the Queen's face was enough to make Rosemary feel for her.

"But papa thought it was funny," Mary whined. She didn't want to apologize to anyone.

Rosemary rolled her eyes. "Your father finds anything insulting towards the French to be comical."

That much was true. Rosemary hadn't missed the prideful, amused smirk Henry sent his daughter's way. Since the Dauphin was Francis's child, it made the whole situation all the more entertaining to Henry.

Francis and Henry were close in age, with Henry being three years older than his French cousin. Both Kings had been hailed as great Renaissance Princes and this meeting was also another chance for both of them to display the grandeur and wealth of their countries.

And display they would.

The purpose of the meeting was to form a solid an unbreakable friendship. To put into motion, the treaty that would forbid wars among Christian nations – England and France included – but there was much more to it than that. Rosemary knew for a fact that the political part of the meeting would get lost in all the magnificence and glamour of the event. Rosemary had foreshadowed such an outcome when Henry said he was just "Simply Henry".

"Papa said you always pushed him when he kissed you."

Rosemary laughed softly, remembering those moments from her childhood. "We were children then and we never acted like that in front of other Kings."

That may have been a lie, but Rosemary had never pushed Henry away when they were in the presence of guests. What commoner girl would deny the young Duke of York? At that time, no one; mainly because Henry was a handsome child. Growing up together gave Rosemary an entirely different perspective of him, though. To the young Rosemary, Henry was nothing more than her brother's annoying best friend. Henry, although he loved to mock her, only did so because he fancied her. The only females who were a constant in the young Henry's life were his mother, grandmother, little sister Mary and Rosemary. At the time, Mary was an infant so she held no interest and that left only Rosemary. Charles, just to annoy his sister and knowing about his friend's crush, would always dare Henry to kiss Rosemary. Henry knew he'd get pushed away every time, but he never backed down from a dare and took every opportunity to kiss his beloved.

"Did you really kiss papa, Aunt Rosemary?" Mary lifted her head from her aunt's shoulder and looked at Rosemary with curiosity.

"Your father did most of the kissing," Rosemary admitted.

Mary gasped, "Mother wasn't angry with papa? She's always mad when he visits his lady friends."

Visiting his lady friends. Rosemary snorted at the thought. It was also amusing to see how serious the young Princess was.

Taking her thumb to smooth out Mary's furrowed eyebrows; Rosemary kissed the top of her niece's hair. "Your parents weren't married yet, sweetheart."

"Oh, alright!" Mary smiled again, her aunt's answer pleasing enough. "But papa said you never pushed King Francis away."

Rosemary choked on her own saliva. She certainly hadn't anticipated for those words to come out of Mary's mouth, nor had she suspected Henry to share memories like those with his daughter.

"He did?" Rosemary feigned innocence, humoring her niece.

Mary nodded her head and hummed. "That's why papa doesn't like him – well, one of the reasons."

Rosemary felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She recalled a few times during her childhood when Henry and Francis would fight, and most of their fights were over her.

"Why did you kiss King Francis?" Mary's thirst for knowledge was always adorable when it wasn't directed towards Rosemary's personal life.

"Well, I thought he was handsome I suppose," Rosemary said.

"He's not as handsome as papa," Mary said in a matter-of-fact tone. The young Princess thought her father was godsend.

"Of course not, darling," Rosemary said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Your father is the handsomest man in all of Europe."

In Rosemary's opinion, Francis was the better looking out of the two Kings. His dark hair, eyes and complexion was more attractive than England's view on beautiful/handsome. Of course not all French men were attractive and not all English men were unattractive. It was just the luck of the genetic draw.

"Who was the better kisser? Papa or King Francis?"

Shockingly enough, Henry had been the better kisser, but Rosemary knew that Henry had plenty of experience.

Rosemary didn't want to go down memory lane of Henry's mistresses and one-night stands, so she decided to focus on the matter at hand.

"Mary, where is this coming from?" Never once had Mary asked about anything intimate, minus the age old question of "where do babies come from?"

Shyly looking down, a small blush made its way to Mary's cheeks. "The servant girls are always talking about boys."

"Ah, I see," Rosemary said. She remembered being young and dumb with innocent eyes in court. "They shouldn't be talking about such things around you, though."

Lord knows that the King and Queen would have all the girls' heads if they ever found out.

"What's so special about kissing anyway?"

For Rosemary, she could tell if a relationship was going to work after the first kiss. She could still remember how her lips tingled with excitement when Henry stole her first kiss. She even remembered the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. But all too soon, the kisses turned into sex and a life full of court duties. Rosemary no longer kissed a man because she liked him; she kissed him to relieve herself of any sort of tension.

"A great kiss can make the world dissolve," Rosemary explained. "It can make you dizzy with desire."

Mockingly, Mary placed her small hands on Rosemary's cheeks and pecked her on the lips quickly. "Do you desire more, Aunt Rosemary?" She giggled as she was put back down on the ground.

Pretending to think for a moment, Rosemary said, "I do believe you awoke the kissing monster."

"The kissing monster?" Mary looked up at her aunt with a sceptical expression. "What's that?"

Gasping loudly to entertain her niece, Rosemary placed a hand over her heart and kneeled down until she was eye level with Mary and whispered, "You never heard of the kissing monster?! It's everywhere! It could be under your bed, or hiding in someone's hat. If it finds you, you will be showered with kisses and hugs!"

Mary let out a loud round of giggles when Rosemary pulled her closer to tickle her sides and shower her face with kisses.

"No," Mary wailed as she wiggled out her aunt's arms. She began to run away. "Stay away kissing monster!"

Chasing after her niece, Rosemary laughed, "I'm sorry, Princess, but I won't go away until you give me all your hugs and kisses!"

Running as fast as her little legs would carry her, Mary spent the rest of the day laughing and playing with her aunt.

~Page Break~

"The English Mare?" Rosemary crinkled her nose up in disgust. "That's a wonderful pet name. Her parents must be so proud."

Charles laughed and gave his sister a pointed look. "We both know that Francis likes the English women."

Rosemary rolled her eyes. "I kissed him once."

"And slept with him once, too."

"Charles!"

"So the rumors are true," William Compton said. He looked a bit surprised.

Anthony Knivert chuckled. "Come now, William, we both knew that our Rosemary wasn't the purest flower in the garden."

All three of the men laughed loudly, attracting more attention to their group of four than Rosemary liked. She rolled her eyes at them, though, but didn't say anything. Charles never had a filter when he was sober, so he was just a social butterfly telling all when he was drunk. He'd come grovelling for Rosemary's forgiveness in the morning, though. Maybe she'd make him sweat for just a little bit before she assured him that she wasn't angry with him.

Looking across the room, Rosemary noticed how Henry's eyes lingered on Mary Boleyn — the English Mare of the French court. "He's already slept with her, hasn't he?"

Charles drowned his third cup before he said, "You know Henry all too well. She showed him the "French graces" she has learned while at court."

"Surely the French aren't that different when it comes to sex." When Charles gave her a lascivious stare, Rosemary blanched. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

"Did you know they can tie a knot in a cherry stem with just their tongues?" Anthony looked too awfully excited with that piece of information. "Imagine what they could do to your—"

They all groaned in disgust before he could finish the sentence.

"No one needs to hear about what you want done to your…. little friend," William said.

"Little?" Rosemary nearly snorted her drink out through her nose at how offended Anthony looked. "There's nothing little about me, William."

"Except for your brain," Charles piped up.

Rosemary stared at her brother. "Like you're one to talk."

The three men laughed jovially again and Charles pulled his sister in close. He whispered in her ear, "Have you seen your future husband?"

And just like that, all the happiness in Rosemary's body left. She stopped smiling and laughing, looking almost like a shell of herself.

"I saw him running off with some French whore," she said. Any other woman would have been mortified to see her fiancé chase after another woman, but Rosemary couldn't have been more than relieved. The further away Buckingham and his thoughts were of her, the better she could live her life.

Charles nodded his head, thinking the same thing. Before he could say anything else, a wrestling match between an English and French man started. Everyone quickly gathered around to watch. Sitting next to her brother, Rosemary saw Buckingham sitting next to Norfolk.

Focusing more on the match, Rosemary cheered along like everyone else. It was clear that the Frenchman was winning, but the Englishman didn't give up. As she continued on to cheer, she felt eyes burning a hole in the side of her face. Looking in the direction the sensation was coming from, both Henry and Francis were staring at her.

Then Henry suddenly stood up.

"Do you want to prove it?" He asked Francis, obviously annoyed with whatever was said to him.

Francis looked mildly confused. "What are you suggesting?"

"I am challenging you to a wrestling match, brother."

Francis's guard step forward, but the French King stopped him. "Démissionner," he told the guard.

Henry scoffed and waved Francis off. "You're a coward."

"Vous osez?" Francis stood up, too. "The French honor is at stake. I accept your challenge. Et je vais gagner. Let's do it now."

Henry smirked. "GROOM!"

Both kings began to undress until they were in nothing but their trousers.

The whole room was buzzing. Charles and Rosemary shared a look and they both agreed: Henry was an idiot. But that didn't stop Charles from looking highly eager to witness the match.

"Majesty's, gentlemen," the referee began. "The rules are as followed: The first man to throw his opponent to the floor shall be declared the winner. Are you content with these rules?" Both kings agreed, neither taking their eyes off of each other. "Then fight on."

As soon as the referee finished speaking, the kings immediately lunged. The whole room was louder than ever, cheering for their king.

"Come on, Henry!" Charles shouted.

"What bet will you lay?" Anthony asked William.

"Two kings, two queens and a fool," William said.

"Who's the fool?"

"Henry," Rosemary said.

Both men laughed, and William said, "I don't know yet, but it's a full house." William then got to his feet and yelled, "Come on, Your Majesty!"

Anthony and Charles got to their feet as well as Rosemary remained seated. She acted like she didn't care about the outcome, but she secretly wanted Henry to win. Francis, although handsome, always did like to ruffle Henry's feathers. He had ever since they were children.

"Henry's going to win," Charles said like a fact.

Sir Thomas More, who had abandoned his seat to get a better angle of the match, disagreed. "Whatever happens he is not going to win."

His words did nothing to sway Charles's opinion, though. He just continued to cheer for his friend.

Grab after grab, break after break, Henry and Francis were still going at it. Both were red in the face and slick with sweat. Bets were going around and almost everyone were on their feet. Unknowingly, Rosemary was standing, too, cheering on her king.

Henry had Francis bent at the waist, the French King's shoulder lodged into Henry's stomach. Before Henry could even attempt to lift Francis over his shoulder, the latter shoved forward, knocking Henry off his feet and onto the floor.

The French roared from their victory as Henry was being restrained by his friends, shouting over the victorious cheers. "I want a rematch! I want a rematch! Are you afraid to go against me again?!"

"Are you calling me afraid?" Francis stepped forward and sneered. "And what do I have to be afraid of?"

"Of me!" Henry snarled.

Francis looked just as enraged. "Let's have it then!"

Sir Thomas More intervened, however, and pulled Henry to the side before Rosemary could reach him.

She rushed over to his side and heard him say, "I will not sign! Tell Francis I will not sign the treaty!"

"Henry…." Rosemary began, touching his arm lightly, but Henry snatched his arm away like she had burned him.

He stared Rosemary dead in the eyes. "I will not sign it."

Tired of Henry's temper and incompetence, Sir Thomas More grabbed Henry's face, making the king look at nothing but him, ensuring that Henry heard every word he had to say. "All right! If you want the world to know that the King of England is easily changeable, shallow, intemperate, incapable of keeping his word, then of course I will go and tell them. After all, I am merely Your Majesty's humble servant."

Like a cloud had been lifted, Henry suddenly looked like he had just woken from a dream. He stared back at Sir Thomas More like he didn't know the man who had so openly berated him in front of everyone. Shock emitted through Henry's eyes, clearly not use to people talking to him like that. The last person who had ever talked to Henry in that manner had been his late paternal grandmother.

Reaching out, Rosemary's tried again. "Henry…."

But again, he moved away from her touch like she was some sort of leopard and stalked out of the tent.

Looking over her shoulder, Rosemary caught Francis's eyes and the French King stared back at her with enraged eyes that were clouded with lust.

~Page Break~

Three weeks later, Rosemary found herself sitting in the church among her fellow Englishmen and the French, as Francis and Henry signed the Treaty of London which would solidify bonds between the two countries.

Applauses were made once Henry signed, and Rosemary along with every other Englishman, let out the breath that they had been holding. Rosemary was actually surprised that Henry signed the treaty. Once he had his mind set on something, he'd follow it though until the very end. It took some persuasion and a lot of spare time to throw Mary Boleyn his way, but they had actually got Henry to agree to sign the treaty. Now, they just had to worry about him upholding it.

Unfortunately for Rosemary, Buckingham sat right next to her with Norfolk on his other side. He didn't acknowledge her or Charles presence, but he sat so close that Rosemary could feel the heat rising from his body. He sat slouched, obviously not interested in the signing, but he clapped anyways.

Once the signing was over, and the kings had left, everyone began to file out of the church. Rosemary stuck close to her brother's side and Charles wrapped a protective arm around her waist, keeping her close as possible. She didn't want Buckingham grabbing her like he had done last time.

"My Lord Suffolk."

The siblings turned around and Rosemary stiffened at how close Buckingham was. He took another step until he stood directly in front of Rosemary, but he stared at Charles. It was clear that her fiancé was trying to intimidate her with his large size and stature, and Rosemary hated to admit that it was working.

"Lord Buckingham," Charles said a little too politely. It didn't sound like him at all. "What can I do for you?"

"I have yet to receive my full dowry."

"The papers for half of my father's land and estate have not been given to you yet?"

"I was talking about the money," Buckingham said with a sneer. "How can I marry the woman with only half of her dowry?"

Charles took a dangerous step forward. Rosemary noticed that her brother and Buckingham were of the same height, both standing nose to nose.

"My sister Rosemary is not some common woman. She is far too important to just give away with a little lump sum." Charles practically growled each word out. His fists were clenched and he didn't back down when Buckingham reared his ugly head. He did, however, try to calm himself down when he felt Rosemary squeeze his arm in warning. "I thought a wealthy Lord like yourself wouldn't stress over matters such as a dowry. Unless, there is something you wish to tell me, Lord Buckingham. Do I have to worry about my sister marrying a man who cannot provide for her?"

Rosemary nearly choked on her tongue. She yanked on her brother's arm a little more forcefully and hissed out his name to gain his attention. Buckingham was a man who never forgot about those who scorned and humiliated him. The last thing Rosemary needed was Charles having a hand in making her life more of a living hell than it was soon about to be.

"No, of course not," Buckingham spat between clenched teeth. He turned his dark, cold, devil-like eyes on Rosemary and gave a cruel smirk when she flinched under his gaze. "The wedding is in five months and so I expect her to bring forth the rest of her dowry. That is, if she can afford it."

Buckingham left without another word, but he harshly brushed up against Rosemary, making her tiny frame move like she was some rag doll. If Charles hadn't been supporting her with his arm, then she surely would have made a fool out of herself, as she would have been covered in mud.

"I hate that man," Charles hissed. He yanked Rosemary forward and took larger strides than she could keep up with. "I hope he burns in the fiery pits of hell."

"You're the one who agreed that I would marry him," Rosemary pointed out. Five months - in five months she would be Buckingham's wife … officially his property. She shivered violently and Charles pulled her closer.

"Do you think I actually want you to marry that man? Wolsey proposed it and the church agreed."

"WHAT?" People, who had been startled, looked over in Rosemary's direction. The girl blushed, but she lowered her voice and hissed, "Why would he do that?"

Charles rolled his eyes. "Wolsey's just looking out for himself."

"But what would he gain out of me marrying Buckingham?"

Charles sighed and kissed the top of his sister's head. "I wish I knew, Rosie, I wish I knew."


Information/Credits/Disclaimer:

The Tudors: TM Productions Limited/PA Tudors Inc. An Ireland-Canada Co-Production. All rights reserved.

© 2016 Showtime Networks Inc. and Showtime Digital Inc. All rights reserved.

I am in no connection with the productions and networks stated above. I do not get paid to upload this story.

Rosemary Brandon and the plot of this story are of my own creation.

This chapter was edited and looked over by my beta HPuni101.

Princess Mary (the daughter of Henry VIII) was actually born on 18th February, 1516.

The Field of the Cloth of Gold was hosted from 7th to 24th June, 1520.

In the series, Mary Boleyn's relationship with the King is very short lived but in reality it lasted for around three years, at least.

Princess Mary was actually promised to the Dauphin in marriage when she was 2 and he was a baby. This arrangement did not take place at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

The Treaty of Universal and Perpetual Peace is based on the Treaty of London, a peace treaty promoting everlasting peace in Europe, between France, England, the Holy Roman Empire, the Papacy, Spain, Burgundy and the Netherlands, which was signed in 1518 and did not have anything to do with the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

Henry VIII and Francis I did have a wrestling match at the Field of the Cloth of Gold and Francis I did win.

The Palace at the Field of the Cloth of Gold was made out of canvas. It covered 10,000m2 and above its 2m high brick base were 10m high canvas walls.

Red wine really did flow from the fountains at the Field of the Cloth of Gold.

The Anne Boleyn Files (Copyright © 2016 The Anne Boleyn Files) was a major help with finishing this chapter.


If you liked this chapter, please favorite this story and review! It would be very helpful to get the next chapter going.

Until next time! xoxo