Hello there faithful readers!
Do you remember me...? IT'S COURTLYLADY! I'm so sorry I haven't updated anything in months, but I am writing again. Please visit me on youtube. I love making Tudors videos (a recent hobby). Anyways... there are a lot of plots in this chaper so I hope you enjoy them.
Recap:
Thomas and Katherine have a daughter :O What happened to her? Lol this was my recap. Enjoy :)
*x*x*x* CourtlyLady
Chapter XI Smeared ink
King Henry sat in his fabulous chambers, surrounded by his possessions and richness. A crown, ornamented with rubies balanced on his grayish hair and gave him a godly glow. He was dressed in fine clothes, made by the hands of his humble subjects who had treated the fabric with care. The money and energy which had been necessary to make such a piece of clothing, still could not be compared to Katherine's selfmade shirts. His hand slid over the shirt which stuck to his body in an uncomfortable way, growing tighter around his chest as he thought about past and future. He felt poor.
The atmosphere in the room was highly tensed. His Grace Thomas More had just entered the chamber. He remained on his spot, waiting to be acknowledged.
'Please be seated, Thomas.' He said hoarsely, averting the brown eyes of the man in front of him.
The hour in the presence of his ten-year-old son had been an emotional weight on his aged shoulders. And of course his former wife Katherine, the Queen of Spain, had also been there. Dressed in a black, Spanish gown which covered to much of her olive-tinted and despite her age still pure skin, her eyes colored blue like a clear sky and her long dark locks were tight together in a elegant bun. Her accented voice had softly spoken to him, almost as if – he imaged she had really done that - she was whispering affectionate words to him. For a moment he had closed his eyes and listened to her Spanish alto. He had almost convinced himself that hardly anything had changed between them, that their love had maintained through the years they had been separated. Ridiculous thinking, but King Henry VIII owned an great imagination. However the truth had struck him with force, upon hearing the undertone in her voice, the cold and the hardness had chilled him to the bone. His eyes had shot open, boring straight into her piercing blue eyes. He had been so wrong.
Thomas More obeyed without any shown complaints, but in thought the former chancellor felt more like disobeying the man who he had once called a true friend. These days Thomas could only remember the inferior events which had occurred for what it seems ages ago. Nevertheless those bad memories confronted him every morning as he greeted a new dawn and every night when he felt lucky and somehow relieved, he had survived another day. Another day without her.
Thomas More held Henry accountable for his broken engagement. In Thomas's view the king deserved neither his respect nor his obedience. He was fed up with Henry's mood swings. He had put him through hell and he was sure to make this known.
But the funny thing was that Henry did not realize what he had destroyed. His jealous nature had been gnawing at his thoughts since Katherine of Aragon had bluntly told him about her history with Thomas More. History? Henry could not remember if she had said that the relationship had ended. He knew Katherine's pious and faithful way of living so he assumed, because she was properly married to another man, it had.
Afterwards Katherine regretted telling Henry about her and Thomas. At the supreme moment the old feeling of irrationality had taken over her reasonable thinking. She had wanted to make Henry understand that even after he had tossed her aside, locked her away from the rest of the world, men desired her and felt the need to save her out of the dreadful position he had put her in. This tiny bit of information, this kept secret, could ruin both of her or Thomas.
More than a decade ago, Thomas, Katherine and the newborn prince had left England for Spain and lived a quiet live incognito. The emperor of the Holy Roman Empire himself had devised that his cousin's life, Mary's, could be in danger if Henry would find put that Katherine and Thomas had left the country. So they presented themselves as a common duke and duchess. It was there, in the countryside, where their love had flourished into something so solid. The love which in England had only been platonic, soon broadened to a physical one. Some might call it the weakness of the flesh, but God soon blessed their engagement with child. They stood for a decision; telling the emperor or keeping it a secret. Lastly, they had decided to keep it a secret, because they both feared the emperor's temper. They were afraid that he would oblige them to live at court, something they would avoid above all else.
In a niche she sat every day, killing the lonely hours by sewing baby clothes and closely watching the horizon in the hope to catch a glimpse of her betrothed. He had promised to be back before she would go into labor, which meant he could arrive any moment. Her nephew had given her an own estate surrounded by memorizing gardens, which was the ultimate dream a child's imagination. Eustace Chapuys had arranged some midwives behind the emperor's back, for which Katherine was grateful. The fruit of her womb kicked avidly, for which Katherine thanked God every moment, thanked Him for sending her such a healthy child at her age.
The countdown had already started and each day Thomas did not arrive she grew more uncomfortable and more nervous. She sewed and waited. She sang lullabies to the large bump and waited. She told her small boy stories of her childhood and waited. She waited. And waited. And waited. Thomas did not arrive, but something else did. A letter written in a hurry.
It had arrived in the afternoon of an August day in the year of 1534. Eagerly her small hands had torn the seal and at that very moment the child kicked her. She paused for a moment, laying a hand on her enlarged stomach, to caress the place where she had felt the sign of life and she whispered the words 'it is a letter of your father'. Then she went on, her eyes scanning the short parchment letter and the smeared ink.
5th of July 1534
My love, my everything, my Kate,
While I am writing this the tears are flowing freely. There are so much things I would like to say and I cry over the words of love which will remain unsaid. I regret the day I left your warm embrace and travelled to this unfortunate realm.
This is not the England as we know it. The subjects are forced to swear an oath, which means acknowledging Henry as Supreme Head of the church. I refused, because it is against everything you and I believe in. I have been put into the Tower of London for denying Henry this power.
Henry also found out you are gone. He confronted me with the bloodstained sheets and clothes (the remains of Carl's birth which we had left that way). He is absolutely convinced that you have been killed by an enemy. He is outraged. Henry holds me accountable for keeping this from him and his wrath is fiercer than ever. I have been sentenced to death. I will face the axe tomorrow and I will be dead long before you read this. Please do forgive me, and please do understand that I leave this life to protect you and our child. You are save in Spain and in my view it is better that Henry thinks you are dead.
Take care of yourself and our precious little one and may God keep you. I beseech you to forgive me for leaving you behind like this and breaking the vows before they were even officially made; that we would die in each other's arms. I will be waiting for you at the gates of Heaven my love. I thank God on my bare knees for the days I could call you mine.
Yours for always and ever,
Thomas
According to the date Thomas had been dead for over a month. The hours that followed this goodbye had passed by in a blur of pain and emotions. The midwives had found the princess on the floor, collapsed in amniotic fluid and blood with the letter pressed close to her heart. They had with difficulty escorted Katherine to the bed, removed her gown and laid her down on the clean sheets. After useless hours of waiting, a blond woman about the same age had told the crying Katherine that she was ready to bring the child into the world. She clang to Thomas's words. Whatever it would take the former queen promised herself to take care of their precious little one. Breathing deeply, she pushed. With all her might she tried to keep focused but fate had made another decision. She started to get lost in waves of blackness that seemed so temping. Relief filled her body when she heard the soft wails of the newborn. She lifted her heavy head and caught a glimpse of the reddened skin of her daughter. Katherine blew out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
After midnight, Katherine's eyes fluttered open. A single candle shone light on a figure at the end of the bed. Tears blurred her sight as she thought about her Thomas. Half of her heart had died, and if she had the strength she would scream and call his name. He should have hold her hand, stroking the hair from her sweaty face while she delivered his child, he should have carried the small bundle to her, wearing a smile from ear to ear. He should have been alive. 'Please bring me my daughter.' Katherine of Aragon begged the figure in front of her.
The blonde midwife remained silent. Had she sounded so weak that the woman had not heard her plea?
'Please my daughter' Katherine managed to say. The blonde woman walked towards the bed, with stone face and dropped shoulders. On the mattress she sat down and grabbed Katherine's hands tightly. 'I am sorry madam…' she whispered.
Confused, Katherine propped herself up. Her eyes stared at the woman and waited for her to start speaking. She did not understand what was wrong.
'The child did not make it. The babe died in your womb. We could not save it.' Katherine quickly pulled back her hands, wearing a disgusted look on her worn-out face. 'No! You are lying! Give me my daughter!' she demanded, throwing of the new sheets.
'My Lady I am sorry…' The woman said, desperately coving Katherine with the sheets again.
'I heard my child crying! I want my daughter!' Throwing of the blankets again, she tried to leave the bed, but before she could succeed the woman softly pushed her back. Katherine struggled for seconds, though her weakened body gave in and obeyed.
The woman shook her head slowly, adverting the broken woman in the bed. 'People like you who has just experienced a great loss, sometimes imagine things to comfort them. The child has never lived. It did not cry.'
Katherine sank into the pillows. She had lost the baby… lost their child… why was God so displeased with her? Why?
'Thomas help me!' she cried out hysterically, burying her face in the pillows. 'Thomas… Tom…Why did you leave me?' Only God knew at that moment that Katherine wished to be dead as well.
'You have summoned me, Your Majesty?' Thomas More in person asked. Wishing he had not asked the question politely but smashed the words harshly against the old king's head, Thomas sat down on the pointed chair. Looking around the room, he noticed that nothing had really changed.
'She has changed' was all Henry sighed. Thomas's blood boiled dangerously and rushed through his veins with great speed, reaching his cheeks and coloring them in a faint tint of red. Of course Katherine had changed. The disappointments in her life had somewhat hardened, scarred her.
'What do you think Thomas? Is it because of me?'
That was the final drop. Losing all control, Thomas rushed to his former friend and pushed him against the wall. Henry was shocked and stood there paralyzed while Thomas moved his face closer to him.
'Now you have to listen very carefully Henry' Thomas roared angrily 'You have put us both through hell so YES, you are the cause of her everlasting unhappiness!'
'You still love her' Henry spoke anxious. The look in Thomas's eyes betrayed his feelings of love. He loosened his grip and rushed to the door rapidly. Henry, still pressed against the wall, watched Thomas leaving the room.
Thomas paced aimless through the hallways, until… until she was standing there in all her glory in the middle of the hallway, staring at some random point in space. Without thinking, Thomas took his chance. He grabbed her arm forcibly, dragged her towards the nearest door, swung it open and pushed her inside.
'Thomas! What has gotten into you?' Katherine hissed. 'What if someone sees us? Have you thought about that?' She freed her arm and tried to escape. Unfortunately Thomas blocked her way. 'Move over! I really need to go!'
'Oh run away like you always do! If you do not want to be in my presence, just run back to your precious husband!' Thomas snapped, annoyed and angry.
'Why are you acting like this?' She could not suppress the salt tears, stinging at the corners of her blue eyes. Jealousy did not suit her Thomas. As a matter of fact the emotion was destroying him, making him this cold-heated man. But what hurt the most was the realization that she herself was the course of the behavior. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The tears rolled down her cheeks and stuck to her eyelashes. She watched the man in front of her in awe.
'I thought you were the only person on earth who knows my true feelings, who I really am.. the woman underneath the veil of royal appearance… my fears and my desires… bu-but apparently I am mistaken.'
The words broke Thomas's heart again. For the first time he truly noticed that she was a petite, fragile woman, bending under heart ache. She sobbed uncontrollably, the crocodile tears falling down to the ground. 'Do you seriously think I am happy with this life?'
In thought she went back to that night, the night of Elizabeth's kidnap. To the kiss she had shared with her Thomas. It had been a mistake and she had been feeling guilty ever since. Guilty towards her dear sweet Thomas for raising false hope and of course guilty towards her husband for deceiving his trust in such a sickening way.
Something in Thomas's abandoned heart was changing since they had arrived in the country in which they had fallen in love with each other. Back in Spain he had been able to put away his feelings for the new Spanish Queen, hiding them for the rest of the cruel, hazardous world. Katherine had only needed to look into his direction to confirm the thoughts she permitted herself to believe in from time to time; their love still bounded their bodies and souls. Nevertheless being a clever man Thomas had kept himself quiet, aware of the deadly consequence if this secret would come to light, especially since the Queen herself shared the same feelings.
Thomas did not know what to do. He could not predict what she would do if he took her in his arms. 'I have a daughter who has lived in unhappiness for the past fifteen years' she continued with vibrating voice 'A son who barely knows his own father and-and our daught-' her voice trailed off.
The sorrow was too much for the poor queen. Years of ache which she had concealed, pressed her to the cold, stone floor without any mercy. The floor felt the same way as she was feeling; cold and distant. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wept soundly. 'I had no choice Thomas, no choice..'
Thomas decided to kneel next to her, and luckily she did not back off. She spoke, stumbling over the words and her thick accent running through the words.
'When my sister Juana died and she left me the throne, my neph-nephew, he was the one who told me I needed a king… practically forced me to marry….I have never wanted to… I married Antonio for political reasons…and…then you came back… and I was pregnant with Josefina..'
'Oh my love' was all he could whisper. He just did what his heart told him to do. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her hair.
'That is why you did it, is it not? That is why you took Elizabeth. You took her because Henry could keep his daughter and we could not.' She sounded strong despite her teary face. Thomas nodded soundlessly. They sat like that for a while, until Katherine made some excuse that she was ought to prepare Carl's birthday.
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