KINGS AND PAWNS Chapter IX
December 9th, 1555 GREENWICH PALACE, ENGLAND
"The green?" Elizabeth spun around, pouting heavily "Hadn't I change my colors once in awhile. Its always green, green, green."
She was in a beautiful gown, shipped from Florence, made of silk and damask. It was three shades of green and studded with flecks of diamonds. It was beautiful and she was throwing a fit. Catherine stared at Margaret, who shook her head, exasperated.
"My Lady it is a wondrous gown. A gift from the Prince Eric. And green suits you most beautifully. It would be a waist not to wear it."
Elizabeth shook her head, pacing the length of her bed, back and forth, back and forth. She had been a woman possessed since the Swedish Prince's arrival three days earlier. It had been a total surprise, and Elizabeth had decided it was Edward's doing. He had invited the Prince, in secrecy, to blindside her. Margaret didn't believe that. He had meant it as a surprise, and any sister would be thrilled. Eric was tall and well made, the Heir to a Kingdom of his own. Edward could make Elizabeth a Queen, if she would only cooperate. Jane sat sullenly, looking out the window, depressing as she always was. Eleanor huffed.
"Its a party Elizabeth!" she said, getting to her feet "You're not betrothed. You are going to welcome a fellow Prince to England. Let us ready, we wouldn't want to miss the revels!"
Eleanor Neville, dressed in a buttery yellow colored gown, was always cheerful. She was the best at raising Elizabeth's spirits. The Princess looked up, seemingly accepting of her fate. She signaled to her Ladies maids who began setting her hair, as the other girls helped each other dress.
Catherine wore a maroon and red dress with a daringly low cut neckline. She was soon to be betrothed herself, to the wealthy and handsome Henry Hastings who would be Earl of Huntingdon someday. She'd been especially mindful of her appearance since her Father had announced his plans. Jane wore a plain gray and silver gown. It was her finest, but was modest and simple. That was Jane's way. But the poor girl looked more like a prisoner lead to the gallows than a pretty young maid off to see her own betrothed. Guildford Dudley was no handsome, landed man. He was a spoiled brat, landless, title-less and the last in a line of four sons. But that wasn't why Jane was upset. She would have rather been wed to a book than a man.
Margaret had gone for a dark blue, which set off her skin quite well. She was neither scared or upset. She was excited for the banquet and the entertainment, but she was more excited about something of another nature all together. She had seen Paul twice since he'd kissed her. Both occasions had been exhilarating and frightening. It was what most poets and troubadours called love. Her stomach flipped nervously at the thought. She blushed, and smiled to herself.
"What are you smiling about?" Jane asked sourly, as they all readied to head down to the revels "You're beloved will be in attendance too. You're no free maid Madge, remember?"
Margaret turned, her face set stonily.
"Oh don't be so tragic Jane."
"It is tragic isn't it? We have no say. Our Father and Brothers sell us like livestock to slaughter. You're butcher is just a King."
She smiled sadly and walked past, leaving Margaret alone in the room. No matter how much she thought of Paul, the idea of a betrothal to the King of England always loomed over her head. It was only a matter of time before she learned the truth. She should have been excited, waiting on pins an needles. But she was frightened. More so than she'd ever been in her whole life.
"Madge!" Catherine's voice called from down the corridor "Come now! We must enter together, as always."
Margaret hurried out, joining her small group of maids. They had become inseparable lately, all lead by Elizabeth and cared for by the Lady Knollys. Some said it was a little court within a court. It was certainly exhilarating, being at the center of the Court's attention. Exhilarating and daunting and treacherous. Favor could easily turn to disgrace. She had learned that in her short time at the Tudor court.
"THE LADY ELIZABETH!"
As they began to file in, they were announced. Margaret was at the end of the line and cursed herself. She would be the last to enter and target for many glares and stares. But there was no going back now. As she entered she tried to keep her eyes glued to the wall in front of her. It wasn't hard. The Great Hall had been decorated beautifully in red, blue and gold. Those were the colors of the Swedish Coat of Arms, or so Madge had been told. Banners streamed down from the rafters and huge tapestries covered the walls. The assorted Nobility who had come to see this foreign Prince, had arrived in all their finery. The crowd was ready for dinner and a show, and expected the King to put on a good one.
At the head of the hall, sitting in a seat next to the King, was a fair haired youth. He was well built, muscular, with an easy smile. His eyes were sharp and his posture proud. He and Edward's heads were close together as the two young men talked of Princely things. Eric was well dressed, enough to garner attention but not enough to outshine the King. Suddenly Edward laughed, giving the Prince a hard pat on the back.
"THE LADY MARGARET SIDNEY!"
The King paused, his eyes lifting to meet hers. She paused and curtseyed low, her eyes on the rushes, before walking to her seat at the table, just to the right of the King's. Elizabeth sat next to Eric and Mary sat next to Edward. The whole royal family was out in force. Dudley watched from across, his eyes keen as always.
"I'm starved." Catherine said with a frown "And where is Henry? His Father and Mother are right over there? Shouldn't he be-"
Margaret wasn't paying attention now. She was taking in the whole Great Hall. This was the grandest banquet they'd had yet, and she was still in awe of how opulent the lives of Edward's courtiers really was. She felt his eyes on her as she studied her surroundings, but tried not to look. If she did, she might bolt.
"To the good King Edward!" suddenly, a voice rang out, silencing the chattering hall.
A toast to the King was a common gesture, usually at least one was called for at each gathering the court had. But the entire room seemed to be witnessing something vibrant and new, the way they were hanging on this strangers words. Margaret noticed Edward, however, was still staring at her. A small smile played on his lips and she couldn't help but feel like running from the hall.
Is this how Elizabeth's mother had felt? This impossible weight on her chest at the thought of the King giving her a second glance, favoring her above all others. It was impossible, it was frightening and it was confusing. Of course, it must have been much worse for Anne Boleyn, as the late King Henry had already been wed when his eye landed on her.
Was Edward's stare as piercing as his Father's? If so, Anne would have been a mad woman to have not been frightened at what that stare implied. Margaret shivered, looking up.
"-and my Father, King Gustav of Sweden, extends his hand in friendship. Any King, so willing to bring the word of our Lord to his people is an ally to my Father and the true faith."
Margaret felt Jane perk up. Any mention of "the True Faith" immediately garnered her interest. She was leaning forward listening now. It was widely known that Sweden had separated from the Catholic Church during their own Reformation years before.
"So, in lieu of his gratitude and friendship, I come, bearing gifts!"
The doors were suddenly flung open. A shot of flame burst forth into the great hall, from the darkness. A few of the noble ladies screamed, and men's hands reached for their weapons. But then three men burst in. Two of them had landed from back flips onto their feet. Jesters!
They were dressed in all white, with wooden swords and masks shaped like Knight helmets. Them came the dragon.
Claps and cheers exploded and the creature entered. It was three men, on walking and two perched on his huge, muscular shoulders. They were dressed in green scales and one of the men on the shoulders had a torch. A fire breather! The monster stalked in, breathing flame and the two Knights attacked. As they slew the dragon, Eric stood again. The crowd cheered merrily at the masque and he bowed smartly. Elizabeth was laughing and Edward nodded at her, playfully.
"That was rather...unexpected." Jane said, straightening her bodice. Margaret laughed and took a sip of her spiced wine.
"Now that you've all been properly entertained, shall we sup?" Edward bellowed, slamming his fist on the table "Feed us!"
More cheers. And the food was brought out. The feasting would go on into the night, but the first course was always the most spectacular. Eels and lampreys in a thick, spicy sauce. Huge platters full of several kinds of roasted meats. Fish of all kinds, venison, rabbit, soups, sauces, breads, sweet meats, pastries, and so much more. As Margaret set down her spoon, she couldn't help but rest her hand son her belly.
"You'll get as big as a German Frau if you aren't careful." Catherine said with a coy smile "Then what would the King want with you."
Madge fixed her with an angry stare, but Catherine giggled. In the background a tune started, the musicians playing a lively song. Many stood, leading partners to the middle of the hall or slapped the table to the beat. Prince Eric stood, offering his hand to Elizabeth. She hesitated, but smiled and accepted as he swept her off to the floor. Robert Dudley sat sullenly, his arms crossed like an angry boy.
Soon everyone was up dancing, passing thru the crowd, touching only hands as they spun. Margaret joined in. Since coming to court she'd found she loved celebrations like these. Especially the dances. The world spun in a dash of color, as she twirled and spun, from partner to partner. Some faces were familiar, others strange. But it didn't matter. One face, as familiar as it was, made her gasp.
"A dance, My Lady?"
It seemed every eye was on them. Margaret looked up into Edward's face. It was handsome, and honest and kind. He watched her, waiting for an answer.
"Of course Your Majesty."
His hands were steady as they performed the steps. The music slowed, and the steps of the dance grew dignified. Edward was the perfect gentleman. His hands pressed softly on the small of her back. He held her hand delicately as he twirled her beneath him. Soon, Margaret found herself laughing. Edward smiled warmly, and leaned towards her ear.
"I have dreamt of you night and day." he said in a breath "My men call it infatuation. Is that what this is Margaret? It is rather unpleasant."
She stiffened, and looked away. He found her unpleasant? Or just his being drawn to her? She felt cornered, but he laughed.
"You would soothe my discomfort if you would only-"
His sentence broke away and she raised an eyebrow.
"Your Majesty?"
Edward looked down and laughed loudly. A few courtiers turned to look at him and laughed themselves. Margaret frowned. He was playing with her. Suddenly she was less afraid and more impatient. What did he want?
"Your face was rather telling. No, dear Margaret, I would not proposition you to be my Mistress. But I would proposition you."
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"In what way, exactly, would you do that Your Majesty?"
She was smiling now, she couldn't help it. He was confident, and witty. She had spent so much time cowering from him, she had never let herself see him. He was a man, as much as a King.
"I would beg of you, sup with me tomorrow. Just you and I." he pressed his hand to her back again, pushing her towards him just an inch "And I will honor your maiden virtue with no propositions of that kind, I assure you."
He winked and she laughed softly, her face inches from the fur on his shoulder. How nice would it be just to close her eyes and rest her head there. Then he would lean down, his blonde hair brushing her face and her would kiss her, as he had done-
She froze. She had been envisioning Paul's arms around her, Paul's hands pulling her closer. She stepped back, giving a quick curtsey.
"I would be honored, Your Majesty. But for now, I promised Mary I would come to her before I went to bed and as the hour is growing late, I should go."
Margaret turned, her heart thudding in her chest. She was playing a very dangerous game and she felt a heavy anxiety in her stomach as she tried her best to walk slowly out of the Hall, though she wanted to sprint.
As she passed through the door and passed a dark corridor, a hand shot out. It was bejeweled and slender. The Maid stopped her in her tracks and looked at her face to face. She looked sour and sullen, like a child who hadn't gotten her way.
"What Lady, in her right mind, would marry Henry VII's son? Wouldn't you much rather keep your head?"
Madge balked.
"That is treasonous! Unhand me!"
She obeyed, but a smirk replaced her features. She was dressed in a gown of cream and lavender, but it wasn't a very new gown. It looked a few seasons old, and not that well made. Margaret dusted the sleeve of her own dress.
"You should watch how you speak of our King, girl." Margaret tried her best to sound authoritative "It is not wise to say such things."
The girl laughed and waved her away. She made her way back into the great hall and Margaret continued back upstairs. Maybe she would visit Mary. Any excuse to keep her from running off to the stables. For now, she didn't need the distractions Paul would bring.
