Chapter 21
White Hall Palace
London, England
April 6, 1537
Mary Tudor presided over the events of the day as any regent would, but there was a pit in her stomach. Something went wrong, very wrong. Her husband sat besides her enjoying the festivities for the King's first birthday. The boy was still safely tucked away in the country, with Thomas Boleyn being the only to know the royal children's whereabouts. It was better for them that way, especially with only one letter coming from Anne, who was stuck in Calais for another three weeks. There was no news from the front line, but Charles himself remains to be seen. Francis is in place, fighting just enough to taunt the Emperor, but he has not taken the bait. The Princess suspects there is a spy among them, and part of her hates to wonder if it is her own husband.
Their marriage so far has been one of joy, and the Duke of Beja has been a huge help in their preparations since their wedding… but what if it was all a ploy? What if he was sent as a spy and Mary was now carrying his child? She hadn't told him of her condition due to her suspicions. Everyone but Anne's family seemed to be at ease, confident in their ability to overcome the Emperor. Suddenly there is a page appearing at her side, and her lady Catherine Howard is whispering that he has a message from the frontlines. Mary smiles and sends the girl away. Despite everything, she had been weary to have a relative of Anne's in her household, especially one so ill-suited to the position. She was proud of the young girl, especially hearing of the upbringing she had. The young Howard was slowly becoming a pious and intelligent girl, if still slightly ditzy.
The page approached the Queen's throne which she sat upon, taking Anne's example of never daring to sit in her younger brother's throne. He handed her a letter donning the French seal. She stood, excusing herself from her husband and stepped aside to begin reading it. Her eyes became wide with fear before she could control them. She heard footsteps behind her and hid the letter. She turned to see Luís approaching her with a nervous smile.
He noticed her face and began to frown, "Meu amor, what is wrong?"
"Nothing. I simply need to retire for the evening. Stay and enjoy it," she insisted before stepping around him and reporting back to her ladies, giving Lady Alymer an order before announcing her need for rest and encouraging the party to continue without her. Luís watched the young girl go to the councilors and grew angry. His wife was hiding things from him, and he intended to find out why. He moved quickly through the crowd and was soon making his way to their rooms. He found her pacing, and she jumped slightly as the door shut. "Oh, Luís, I was not expecting you."
"You are keeping secrets from me María," he huffed, "I want to know why."
"I do not know what you are talking about," Mary tried to push off the accusation, staring out the window to not lie to his face.
"So you are not pregnant with our child? Or is it not mine and that is why you have not told me?" he demanded.
Mary twirled, furiously, "how dare you accuse me of such things? Me, of all people!"
"What am I supposed to think when one moment we are as close as could be, and the next you will barely sit next to me?!" he hollered.
Mary held her arm in shame, he was right, but she was still not sure of his loyalty. "The Emperor has failed to show himself on the battlefield. Did you warn him?"
"What?" the Portuguese Prince demanded.
"Did you, or did you not warn the Emperor of our plans?" Mary snapped.
"María… you think I would betray you so? I have not even told my brother that I have been assisting you," Prince Luís stepped away from her clearly hurt. "I told you I would try to be a good husband and I meant it…"
Mary held her head in shame, " I am sorry. Things have gone extremely wrong in the Low Countries, and I am not sure if we have a spy among our midst. I was terrified that I married him, and became paranoid."
"María if we do not have trust, we have nothing. We are royals, the opportunity to do terrible things will always be there, but I need you to trust that I will do what is best for you and our child," he smiled holding her face.
She nodded, "I am sorry Luís."
"I forgive you," he replied, "now please share your burdens with me, for your sake and our child."
She nodded, pulling him into a hug. Just then the door knocked and her page announced the arrival of the royal advisors. She nods her assent for them to enter as she steps away slightly from her husband and whispers, "we just had our first fight."
"So we did, do you want me to depart?" he whispers back.
She shakes her head as Thomas Boleyn, George Boleyn, Thomas Cromwell, and Charles Brandon enter their chambers. She pulls herself up as the bow, "gentlemen, we have received some troubling news this evening. King Francis has been injured. He is safe and is being hidden well away from the front lines, but injured no less."
"What of Anne? Any news from her?" George asked. He couldn't keep thinking he should have escorted his sister.
"Nothing since the report of her premature birth and having to wait to be churched to return… gentlemen, something is terribly wrong. I can feel it," Mary admitted.
"Why do you think that?" Charles asked.
"Where is the Emperor? We have not heard of him since this all started, Anne is silent, and now the French King is hurt. I think there may be a spy among the court, but I could not say who," Mary replied.
"We will find him," Thomas Boleyn replies, looking at Cromwell.
Thomas Cromwell grimaces, "I will find out what I can. You need to go ensure the safety of the King and Princess. If Mary is correct, we could all be in trouble. We need to get Anne home. Now. Lord Suffolk, Lord Rochford, attend to her safe return."
Burg Herzberg Castle
Alsfeld, Hesse
April 10, 1536
Francis sat in the bed that provided for him, in a castle deep within the Holy Roman Emperor, just outside where the final battle where the Emperor would come to fight him. He had been fighting here and there to draw the man to him, but there had been no such luck. Finally, when an immense rush of troops came into their flytrap, he had known Charles had finally arrived. When it turned out to only be the bastard's younger brother, Ferdinand, he became enraged and less cautious as he should have been. He slaughtered four Spaniards in the span of ten seconds before being stabbed in the stomach, by the man he had not seen. He was sure he was to be captured again and prayed for death instead. He was blessed to have brought his most loyal friend, Anne de Montmorency, with him. The man lifted his King onto his horse, and they fled to safety. The battle had been won though, despite his injury, and they would win the war, but it was not enough. He needed to strip the weasel Charles for all that he had done. The atrocities he has done could not go unpunished.
Without the battlefield all he felt was pain. Pain of failure. Pain of his injury. Pain of being separated from his loved ones. He had still not heard any word from his wife and her recovery, and he was beginning to think something was wrong. His advisors swarmed around him like bees to a hive, causing him more aggravation, for they have naught to do but twiddle their thumbs and worry about the outcome. Finally, fed up, he hollered in an uncharacteristic manner, "If you are all so damn worried about ending this battle, find the man responsible. Get out and find the damn Emperor!"
The men shuffled out of his room, giving him reverence as they passed. He fell back against the pillows as he tried to remember to thank the Count whose name he couldn't remember at the moment, for all the comforts he has provided. Soon his sleep found him, and so did his nightmares.
Château de Boulogne-sur-Mer
Nord-Pas de Calais
April 13, 1537
Anne glanced out her window into the dark, and towards the water as she bounced Louise, who is wrapped in a violet swaddle. She has the windows open and takes in the breeze of the fresh, night breeze. Soon she could return to England with her child, though she did worry about the journey with her newborn. She prayed she would survive it. She kissed her daughter and laid her down to rest, She had her ladies dress her in her night garments. She had a handful of maids here that she barely knew, borrowed from her sister-in-law, Marguerite, to aid her on her journey to England. They would remain with her until she and Francis reunited. She thanked the ladies and dismissed all but three, as per her usual routine. She grabbed a book to read, as they closed the windows. Soon they were settling in besides their Queen, waiting for her to sleep. Anne kept a sharp eye on one of them, who was deeply Italian, and paid her the smallest amount of respect she could get away with. She was used to the behavior, but found it odd considering Marguerite said she had asked for volunteers.
Knowing the girls had to remain up if she did, Anne finally set her book down and shifted for bed. The candles were blown out and all was quiet. Soon the girls were all snoring, deeply asleep. Anne could not sleep, though it was not for an overabundance of exhaustion, or stress. In fact, having been forced into the isolation of the fortress, and being unable to exchange letters in order to maintain her cover, has done wonders for her stress. When fears for her husband and children plagued her, she prayed. It was all she could do until she was permitted to be churched in two week time.
Something was disturbed within these halls though, and Anne could not figure out why. A chill fell down her spine, keeping her alert. It was quiet, eerily quiet. When she heard shuffling in the hallway and the murmur of her guards, followed by shouting that was quickly silenced, she shot out of bed. She began frantically searching for a way out as her ladies stirred around her. It was too late, and the men barged into her rooms. She quickly jumped back to her bed, fishing a knife out from under her bed, and hiding it among her, just as they broke into the bedchamber. She sat up straight, glaring, "I am the Queen of France, and Regent of England. How dare you barge into my chamber as thus. You will all die for your actions unless you leave now."
She heard a deep laughter from behind the men as their leader stepped forward. Her eyes widened, before she took a deep breath and swallowed her fear,"your chin precedes you, Emperor Charles."
"So does yours, Concubine," Charles chuckled. "And now you are my prisoner."
