Beautiful Girl
On top of the world
Don't fall down
Because an angel
Should never touch ground
"Beautiful Girl" by Broken Iris
July 5th, 1519
Heavy feet trudged over the cold stone floors; every step forward was an effort. William was worn from the never ending days and long drawn out nights. There was not a day it seemed that passed without another hunt, joust or masquerade. The King and his court didn't have days off, everyday been an event, a spectacle. William was always one for a good time but as of late he was struggling to cope now everything was finally catching up to him.
He supposed this was the catch with being friends with Henry. Sure you had an invite to the most lavish balls and you got to play tennis with the Kings but you had to keep up with the pace. Those who faltered or flagged were simply left behind or Henry would simply grow so irritated or bored you simply fell out of favour. William couldn't afford to fall out of favour with the King, he had come too far to turn back now -his family's security depended on it.
As he collapsed into the great cushioned armchair near the fire he called to a servant to bring some ale. It would help to lull him into a peaceful sleep, he needed sleep. The fire flickered lazily as the hot embers begin to accept their slow cool death. He was alone. Mother, Catherine and Anne were all asleep and for that he was glad. He needed a little silence; it was a comfort and a rare luxury these days. So William relished it and his drink that the servant brought of whom he dismissed thereafter.
Leaning into the soft velvet backing he let his mind wander, not to be interrupted by his mother's listless drone or Anne's chatter. He sighed as his frame sunk into the deep cushions and began to think or rather...evaluate. Evaluate the current state of affairs. Something had been bothering him for a while but he hadn't the time or energy to mull over it.
Catherine had- as he had secretly predicted long before she had even arrived- made a big impression at court and everyone within it. She had quickly charmed her way into the hearts of many, even the King it seemed. While they had met only a time or two Henry's interest had grown in her daily. It was this that unnerved William. He hadn't been friends with Henry long but knew that the King changed his women as he would his clothes. Henry was a passionate man and his passions often inflamed then waned and occasionally one would come along that would last a longer than the others. But like the sweet nothings he would whisper into their ears to seduce them into bed all were meaningless.
William knew that while Henry kept a distance now soon his curiosity would lead him to pursuing her, ensnaring her and making her his. William was no fool... though even fools understood. Everyone knew the routine. Everyone knew what would happen soon enough. They knew the moment she arrived, another lamb to the slaughter. Poor girl, poor girl, beautiful girl- another notch to the King's bedpost. Seduced and shamed before being shoved at any man who would take her after he'd been bought off by the King. As if that would ease the pain.
He'd be expected to step back if the King were to make a move. Just turn a blind eye while his King violated his sister and family. What choice had he? But Catherine was different. She wouldn't stand for it he was sure she'd refuse his advances. Catherine was no man's puppet but then she'd never faced a force like the King. He held all the strings. William could only hope that Henry soon lost interest in her in favour for some other pretty little thing.