Chapter Fifty-Nine is finally here. I hope that you all weren't dying of anticipation. A little hiatus was needed for creative reasons. This will be the last chapter for the very hectic year of 1560. I hope you all enjoy this Chapter and leave many reviews. Enjoy!
3 September 1560
Palace of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
The Infante Eduardo of Spain sat fidgeting as his governess tried to fasten the cape around his neck. His parents told him not to fuss, but the five-year-old prince couldn't always manage it. He sat still for most of his lessons, except for mathematics. He hated mathematics, even if he was good at it. It was boring. Eduardo would much rather be on his horse or drawing with his art instructor. He liked those activities better.
Today, he wasn't in class though. He was being given a great honor, according to his mother and father, the King and Queen of Spain and Navarre. He was being made Prince of Asturias, Prince of Girona, and Prince of Viana. He didn't quite understand what that meant, but he knew that because of those titles, he would one day be King of Spain, with Navarre united under the Spanish crown.
Eduardo had to sit very still as the chambermaids readied him for the ceremony. They bathed him and dressed him in his official uniform, then placed his dagger around his waist. Finally, he had the cape put around his neck. He had been told that at the ceremony he would receive his first crown, showing that he was the heir to the throne. He was excited about that part. It would make him look more like his father, King Luis. He wanted to look like his father. His mother liked the way his father looked, and he wanted her to like the way he looked too.
Once he was ready, the ladies led him to the throne room of the palace where the ceremony was to take place. His father had told him what to do. Eduardo hoped he could remember it all as he entered the large room.
The herald tapped his staff three times and said, "His Royal Highness, the Infante Eduardo."
Eduardo nodded to the man, then stepped forward into the room where a great number of people had gathered to see him created as heir to the throne of Spain and Navarre. He walked slowly to the dais, where his parents were waiting. When he reached the steps, he knelt in front of them. His father stood up and walked towards him carrying a scroll.
"Eduardo, Infante of Spain, today, you are created Prince of Asturias and Prince of Girona by order of the King of Spain. You are charged with the official duties of the heir to the Spanish throne and are hereby granted the rights and privileges of the same. Do you solemnly swear that you will abide by the laws of Spain, protect your people to the best of your ability, and serve no master but your King and God for as long as you live?" his father said.
"I solemnly swear to do so," Eduardo answered as he had been instructed yesterday.
King Luis stepped forward and placed the scroll in Eduardo's tiny hands, then placed a small crown on the boy's head. Then it was his mother's turn.
Queen Elizabeth of Navarre stepped forward and stood before her son. "Eduardo, Infante of Spain, Prince of Asturias and Girona, today, you are created Prince of Viana by order of the Queen of Navarre. You are charged with the official duties of the heir to the Navarrese throne and are hereby granted the rights and privileges of the same. Do you solemnly swear that you will abide by the laws of Navarre, protect your people to the best of your ability, and serve no master but your King and God for as long as you live?" his mother said.
Once again, Eduardo said, "I solemnly swear to do so."
Queen Elizabeth placed a gold necklace around Eduardo's neck. The heir's crown of Navarre was kept on its pillow behind the young prince, as he already had one upon his head. His mother then placed two rings on his fingers, both too big for his hands. She then had him rise and face the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," said Queen Elizabeth, "I give you His Royal Highness, the Infante Eduardo, heir apparent to the crowns of Spain and Navarre, Prince of Asturias, of Girona, and of Viana."
The guests bowed to the newly appointed heir, who smiled at them widely, as any five-year-old boy would, especially one who was getting to stay up and hour past his bed time to attend a party.
13 September 1560
Royal Palace of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
Queen Elizabeth of Spain's Privy Chamber
"Your Majesty, how do you keep winning?" Princess Giovanna, Duchess of the Infantado said.
Queen Elizabeth smiled.
"My older sister, the Queen of Portugal, taught me how to play cards and dice when I was a child. She always prefered making a wager than the embroidery needle." she said.
Lady Sancha laughed, but then winced and grabbed her swollen stomach. Sancha and her husband were currently expecting their fourth child in just three months time.
Elizabeth looked at her friend, with concern.
"Sancha?" she asked.
Sancha smiled.
"I am well. My child is just deciding to kick me a little harder today. Besides, you should be worried about my husband's Stepmother here. She is not even in confinement." she said.
Elizabeth looked at Giovanna. She was full term in her pregnancy and was due any day now. This was her third child with her husband, Lord Diego de Mendoza, Duke of the Infantado, but it was his sixth child in total.
Giovanna smiled at Elizabeth.
"I will be taking to my Chamber tomorrow, Your Majesty. I just wanted one more day of freedom." she said.
Elizabeth nodded.
"I understand. It is not easy to go into that stifling room and wait for the labor to start." she said.
Sancha sighed.
"We are shut sway from our husbands and children." she lamented.
Giovanna took a deep breath.
"I am not taking confinement tomorrow." she said.
Elizabeth looked at her.
"I know we all hate it, but you will be fine." she said, with a smile.
Giovanna shook her head.
"No, my time has already come. I need a midwife." she said, calmly.
Elizabeth looked at Sancha, with urgency.
"Help her to her Chambers. I will send for the midwife
Later that night...
A loud infant's cry filled the room, as Princess Giovanna took several deep breaths. Her third labor had been slightly difficult than her second but not as bad as her first.
The midwife brought the crying infant over to her.
"It is a healthy and beautiful girl, Your Highness." she said.
Giovanna smiled, as she took her crying daughter into her arms. After awhile, the new baby girl began to quiet down.
Giovanna looked at her new daughter.
"She is beautiful." she said, aloud.
"That she is." a voice said.
Giovanna looked up and saw her husband of six years, Lord Diego de Mendoza.
She smiled.
"Come closer." she said.
Diego sat down next to his wife.
"We have three children together. Can you believe it, darling?" he asked.
Giovanna shook her head.
"No. If you were to tell me seven years ago that I would be in a wonderful marriage with three stepchildren that I love and then have the Lord be merciful to me and open my womb three times, I would think you are a cruel jester." she said.
Diego smiled.
"You were the blessing to us. I am happy that we have Alfonso, Maria and... Juana?" he asked, suggesting a name for their youngest daughter.
Giovanna smiled.
"I was just thinking the same thing. Lady Juana de Mendoza." she said.
20 September 1560
Belem Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
Catarina, Princess of Portugal's Bedchamber
Catarina smiled, as she watched her younger sister, Infanta Joanna, trying on her wedding gown. She loved being back home and especially with her two remaining sisters. The three Royal Daughters had become very close, since Catarina returned home.
Joanna smiled.
"Do you think Manuel will love this gown?" she asked.
Catarina nodded. Joanna was wearing a pure white gown, with white diamonds on her bodice. Her long reddish-brown hair was down her back. She looked like an angel.
"You look beautiful, little sister. You are going to make him so happy." she said.
Joanna slightly teared up.
"Do you really think so?" she asked.
Catarina took her hand and wiped the tears away from her seventeen year old sister's face.
"I know so. I am curious. Why did you choose white?" she said.
Joanna sighed.
"We have have had so much darkness. I wanted to enter into my marriage with a light that shines bright as the heavenly sky. The white dress for me is a new beginning as a wife, something I thought I would never be." she said.
Catarina smiled.
"Let me get the veil for you." she said.
As Catarina walked to get the veil, she suddenly felt very dizzy and held on to her bed, for support.
Joanna noticed.
"Catarina, are you well? Please don't be ill." she said, fear filling her voice.
Catarina shook her head.
"No, I am not ill. I will be fine." she said.
Joanna shook her head.
"You will see a physician at once. Please do it for me. I can not lose anyone else." she said.
Catarina took a deep breath. She knew that Joanna would be scared. Catarina was also the heir to Portugal. She knew that her health made a difference to the future of her homeland.
"I will see a physician. We can summon him now if it will keep you calm." she said.
Joanna smiled.
"It would." she said.
Catarina nodded at one of her ladies-in-waiting to fetch a physician for her and then she hugged Joanna to calm her down.
Catarina took a deep breath as the physician pressed gently on her stomach. Queen Mary was also in the room, scared if the illness was hitting her family again.
The physician stopped his examination.
Catarina stood up.
"Is there something wrong?" she asked.
The physician looked at Catarina.
"Your Highness, when is the last time you bled?" he asked.
Catarina began to think and then looked up, in shock.
"It was July." she said.
The physician smiled.
"As I suspected. Your Highness, you are with child. You shall be brought to childbed in April." he said.
Catarina smiled. She couldn't believe that she was expecting another child.
"Thank you, Doctor." she said.
The physician left, leaving Queen Mary alone with her two older daughters.
She grabbed Catarina's face lovingly.
"A new grandchild. Oh, Catarina, this is a blessing. Ww are gaining a new grandchild through you and a new son through you, Joanna. Maybe the clouds will finally go away." she said.
Catarina smiled and placed a hand on her belly.
"The storm has passed, Mamae. We shall all be happy now." she said.
29 September 1560
Tre Kronor Castle, Stockholm, Sweden
Princess Matilda of Sweden's Bedchamber
Princess Matilda was lying in her bed. She was a little tense, since her husband, Crown Prince Eric, had decided to share her bed tonight. Pleasure wise, she did not mind his visits and when they were alone, they got along well. Matilda had accepted that Eric would not be faithful to her, but it still hurt her that he had two illegitimate daughters. She had nothing against the two girls, but they were a constant reminder for her.
She felt Eric shift beside her and wrap his arms around her.
"Why are you still awake?" he asked.
Matilda sighed.
"I have several thoughts on my mind." she said.
Eric held her closer.
"Is it because of Father being ill?" he asked.
Matilda turned to face him. King Gustav of Sweden had been seriously ill for several months and his condition had deteriorated rapidly. He even said a farewell speech to his Court in July.
"It is not just him. I am also thinking about you and your daughters." she said.
Eric sighed.
"Do you have anything against Virginia and Constance?" he asked.
Matilda shook her head.
"Of course not. They are innocent children. However, their mother has been a thorn in my side. She is very disrespectful." she said.
Eric sighed.
"i am sorry. I will be looking for a husband for her. I am growing tired of her as of late." he said.
Matilda looked into his eyes.
"What about the girls?" she asked.
Eric sighed.
"My father has given my younger sister, Anna, an estate outside of Stockholm. They can be her wards until she is married." he said.
Before Matilda could say anything, there was a loud bang on the bedroom door. Eric jumped up.
"The Princess and I are not to be disturbed!" he yelled.
A voice from outside said:
"I am sorry, Your Highness. The King is deteriorating. He has requested to see you both." the man said.
Eric looked at Matilda and they both rose from bed and grabbed their robes.
King Gustav I of Sweden's Bedchamber
Queen Catherine silently wept, as she sat next to hey husband's weakened body. They had only been married for eight years and there was nearly a forty year she gap, but the he twenty-five year old Queen cared for her elderly husband.
She kissed his hand.
"Gustav, do not leave us. Your children need you. Our little Kristina needs to know you more. I need you." she said.
Gustav looked at her and smiled.
"You have been a wonderful companion to an old man. I humbly thank you for that, my darling. Thank you so much for the joy of being my wife." he said.
Catherine cried.
Suddenly, Eric and Matilda walked in and bowed to the King's bed.
Gustav reached his hand out.
"Eric, my boy. Come closer to your father." he said, weakly.
Eric, with tears in his eyes, walked over.
"Yes, Father?" he said.
Gustav sighed.
"My time in this world is coming to an end. Sweden will be yours now. I urge you to be a just King to our people. Do not spend so much time chasing the gown of your next mistress. Matilda is a wonderful wife to you and will be a wonderful and beloved Queen. I beseech you, as your father, to do good unto her and to your children." he said.
Eric nodded his head.
"Of course, Father..I promise you." he said.
Gustav looked at Matilda and gave her a smile. He had always been fond of his daughter-in-law, despite their differences in religion. She nodded and smiled at him. He knew that when it came to her, he had nothing to worry about.
"Lord Jesus, receive my soul." he said.
After a long breath, King Gustav I of Sweden departed from his earthly life, leaving a sobbing young widow, a crying new King and a mournful, but stoic new Queen Consort.
30 September 1560
Belem Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
Infanta Joanna of Portugal's Bedchamber
Infanta Joanna was being dressed by her ladies. The day had finally arrived that she was marrying Lord Manuel de Silva. The seventeen year old was nervous, but also excited. She knew that Manuel was a good man and was loyal to her family.
Queen Mary walked over to her daughter and smiled.
"You look beautiful, my sweet girl." she said.
Joanna smiled.
"Oh, Mamae. I will admit I am so nervous. What if I cannot make Manuel happy? What if he is not a good husband?" she asked.
Mary sighed.
"Darling, you must not second guess yourself. You are a wonderful daughter and sister and you will be a wonderful wife and hopefully someday a wonderful mother." she said.
Joanna sighed.
"That is why I am nervous. I was fifteen when I started to have my courses. What If something is wrong with me? Even though I bleed, what if I still cannot bear children? What if my marriage will be childless?" she said.
Mary sighed.
"The physician say that there is nothing wrong. I am sure that you will have beautiful children. I would caution you that they try to get away with mischief, especially if they have Lord Manuel's blue eyes." she said.
Joanna smiled and softly laughed.
There was loud banging on the door, signaling that it was time for the wedding to start, which would be held in the Royal Chapel.
Mary looked at Joanna.
"I will depart now. I love you so much." she said.
Joanna hugged and kissed her mother. Mary then left the chambers and Joanna took a deep breath and walked out of her room to finally be married.
The wedding feast of Lord Manuel, Prince of Eboli and Infanta Joanna, Princess of Eboli was bustling and was a joyous affair. The feasts consisted of an assortment of meats and imported wine from Naples. The music and dancing was done by everyone in attendance. Despite the tragedies in the Royal Family just six months earlier, King Carlos made sure his second daughter would have a marvelous wedding.
Lord Manuel and Infanta Joanna were sharing a dance and openly smiling at each other.
"You are so beautiful, darling." he said.
Joanna blushed.
"Thank you, husband." she said.
Manuel smiled.
"I know you are nervous about tonight, but I cannot wait to have you. I want to show you how much I love you." he whispered.
Joanna could feel his desire and it overwhelmed her. She never had a man want her this way. For several years, she thought she would be a Royal Bride for the heir to France, but that was cancelled. She married for love. She would not have to leave Portugal.
Joanna looked at her husband and kissed his cheek.
"I am going to be prepared for bed. I will wait for you." she said.
She turned and nodded at her ladies-in-waiting to follow her, as she left the Banquet Hall.
Infanta Joanna, Princess of Eboli's Bedchamber
Joanna was being prepared for her wedding night. Her new ladies-in-waiting were attending her and were already fond of their young and kind mistress. Joanna's older sister, Catarina, Princess of Portugal, was also there.
Joanna looked at her sister.
"Did it hurt?" she asked.
Catarina looked at Joanna.
"I will not lie to you. It does hurt at first. However, after some time, it becomes pleasurable." she said.
Joanna blushed.
"Is that how it was with you and Juan?" she asked.
Catarina nodded.
"I was about your age when I married him. I was terrified as well. However, I know Manuel. You have nothing to fear, dear sister." she said, with a smile.
Suddenly, Infanta Maria, Dowager Princess of Portugal, came up. She had a cold expression on her face.
Joanna offered her a smile.
"Sweet Maria, thank you for attending the wedding. I was so glad to see you." she said.
Maria sighed.
"I am my late husband's widow and I was ordered by the King to attend. I do not care that you are married now." she said.
Joanna looked down.
"I was hoping to ask for guidance from you as well. It is my wedding night." she asked.
Maria smirked.
"I hope you are torn to shreds like an old curtain." she said.
Catarina turned towards her.
"You may leave, Dowager." she said.
Maria looked at her sister-in-law and glared. Catarina was now the third most powerful person in Portugal and by Court protocol, she had to obey her.
Maria bowed and left.
Catarina turned back to her younger sister.
"Do not pay her any mind. She has gone mad, just like her mother. The apple does not rot far from the tree." she said.
Before Joanna could say anything, Manuel walked in, in his night shirt. Catarina and Joanna's ladies left the room. Manuel had asked for a private consummation. After it was done, Joanna's bedsheets would be collected as evidence that the wedding night was successful.
Manuel walked up to his new wife.
"Are you well, sweetheart?" he asked.
Joanna nodded her head.
"May I kiss you?" she asked, innocently.
Manuel smiled and gave her a soft, but passionate kiss. Joanna softened and returned his kiss. Manuel's hands found their way into Joanna's dark auburn hair. Joanna let her nightgown slip off and Manuel looked upon her naked body and became naked as well. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, still kissing his wife and they spent most of the night making love, deepening their new love.
2 October 1560
Turkey
Hurrem was in her chambers with the young girl who'd been left in her charge. The girl was not very communicative, even in her native tongue, and all that was really know about her was that she was a European princess that had been taken from her family by pirates and sold to the Ottoman court as a slave. Hurrem's husband, Suleiman, was Sultan of the Ottoman Empire and wouldn't dream of allowing a princess to become a slave, even if she was of foreign birth, so he had placed the girl in Hurrem's care until her identity could be discovered. So far, that had proved a nearly impossible endeavor, and the little girl had been with them for nearly two years.
The girl was sitting on the floor with her guardian, looking at objects that the Sultan had brought. He had one of his advisors go to the markets and buy a few things that were from Europe in the hopes that the child would recognize something that could lead to her family. So far, nothing had worked.
The little princess, who Hurrem called Banu, was holding a doll that resembled a wealthy woman with string hair. The doll was made from cloth, and it wore a fine silk dress, but there was little that could identify why the girl was nearly obsessed with the toy. Hurrem watched her for a few moments, then an idea came to her. Perhaps if she could teach the young girl Turkish, then communication would be easier.
Hurrem got the girl's attention by gently tapping her shoulder. She pointed to herself and said, "Hurrem". The young girl looked confused. The Sultana repeated the action, which led to more confusion from the girl. Hurrem pointed to the doll that her charge was holding. She said, "Oyuncak bebek." After repeating the action and words a few times, the girl repeated what she said. Hurrem smiled at Banu widely, trying to let her know that she was pleased.
Then, Hurrem tried with the table that held the other items they were looking at. Hurrem said, "Tablo." Banu repeated the word, touching the table. They spent a little while touching and naming things. After they'd named about five items, Hurrem touched the doll again and raised her eyebrows towards Banu. Banu looked at the doll and said, "Oyuncak bebek." Hurrem nodded and smiled. The girl remembered what it was called.
Banu looked at the doll in her hands. She said, "Oyuncak bebek Maman."
Hurrem didn't recognize the word she added to the name for doll, but it sounded like the Polish word for mother. Hurrem repeated the word to Banu. Banu nodded and said, "C'est ma maman." Hurrem did not know what she was saying, but she suspected it had something to do with the girl's mother. Hurrem smiled.
She pointed to herself once again and said, "Hurrem." Banu looked at her, not sure what the older woman was trying to tell her. She sighed, then went to sit on the window seat and looked outside. Hurrem went and sat next to her charge. They had made a breakthough, but it wasn't enough, not yet anyways. Perhaps as the girl got older, it would become easier. Hurrem could only hope that Banu would remember her life in Europe and could tell them more then.
14 October 1560
Imereti
King Bagrat I of Imereti was in his council chambers with ambassadors from Moldavia, attempting to settle a matter of a betrothal between his niece and their heir, when his page knocked at the door, announcing the arrival of several nobles from the area formally known as Greece. Their arrival was unexpected, but the King welcomed the men without question. Imereti had a friendly trade agreement with many of the nobles, though negotiating was more difficult without them being part of a single nation since the Ottoman takeover. It was this matter that the nobles had come to discuss.
Hours before, the King had met with his son and heir, Prince George, to discuss the fact that he had been married for a while to his second wife, Princess Aimee of Cyprus, and there was still no heir in the royal nursery. In December 1559, George and Aimee's third child, a son, was stillborn and she had not become with child since the unfortunate tragedy. His son understood the need for an heir, but he had grown to love his wife and did not want to put undue pressure on her yet.
The men bowed to the King as they entered the room.
"Gentlemen, what a pleasant surprise," King Bagrat said. "How can I help you?"
"Your Majesty," one of the older nobles in the group began, "we have come to seek your assistance in regaining control of our fallen nation. As you know, the Ottoman Empire conquered Greece, and we are currently ruled loosely by their visers, who are of the Islamic faith. We are not content with this and prefer to be ruled by men who share our faith, rather than heathens who do not understand our ways. We mean to gather armies of like-minded nations in an attempt to reclaim our homeland."
The King looked at the man for a moment, bewildered. Taking on the Ottoman Empire would not be an easy task. He glanced at the ambassadors from Moldavia, then turned back to the nobles of Greece.
"I appreciate your position and your candor," he said. "The Ottoman Empire is a formidable foe. This is not a task that we should undertake lightly."
"Of course, your Majesty," the man responded.
"Once I have concluded business with the Moldavian ambassadors, I will hear your grievances more thoroughly," the King said. But as the nobles turned to leave the room, the ambassadors from Moldavia spoke up.
"Sire," one said, "we would also like to be part of these talks, if it is agreeable to you. We lost land in the Ottoman attacks and are certain His Majesty, King Stephan, would be interested in regaining that land."
King Bagrat nodded. He started to speak when his page knocked once more.
"Your Majesty," the page said, "it seems you have more guests, sire. The representatives of Crete are also here."
"Show them in," the King commanded.
As the two ambassadors entered the room, they looked around and were confused at the other men's presences.
"Gentlemen," King Bagrat said, "Welcome to Imereti. These are the ambassadors from Moldavia, and the gentlemen to your right are some displaced Greek nobles."
The men from Crete nodded politely at their counterparts. "It is fortunate that the Greek nobles are here, your Majesty," one of the men said. "It is that very topic we wish to discuss with you."
"Greece seems to be a popular place," the King commented. "How can Imereti help you?"
"We wish to discuss the situation and how to reclaim Greek lands from the Ottoman Empire," the man continued. "As you know, our nation is wealthy, but we lack the land space that our future generations need. The lands of Greece were vast, and we would like to reclaim them in the hopes of settling some of our people there."
"Wait just a moment," one of the Greek nobles objected. "Those lands are not up for grabs, gentlemen. They are ours and belong to our people."
"No offense, sir," said the ambassador from Crete, "but you can't possibly hope to reclaim those lands on your own?"
"That is why we sought the assistance of Imereti, sir," he replied.
"Crete would like to offer assistance as well."
"But at the cost of our land?!"
"What other price would you be willing to pay that we can make use of?" the ambassador questioned. "We have no need of more gold; we are wealthy in our own right. Land is the only thing we seek."
"Then we have no need of assistance from Crete!"
"You have no standing army, no resources of your own to supply said army, and no chance of winning against the Ottomans without help, sir."
King Bagrat had heard enough of the argument. "Gentlemen, if I may," he interrupted. Both parties turned to the King and nodded. "Imereti has an army that we will of course, lend to the Greek nobles to reclaim their land, but we are no match for the Ottoman Empire alone. I think the cause is just, but the efforts futile at this time. Our armies, even if we were to combine them, would be ineffective."
"Surely not," said the ambassador from Crete.
"You are young, sir, and although youth has its advantages, it does not have knowledge that comes with time, or the decades of personal experience," King Bagrat said. "My father was King when the Ottomans conquered Greece, but I fought their armies when they invaded. They are no laughable foe, and it is said that the current ruler is more intelligent than his father was when it comes to military tactics." The aged King paused. "We would need more men than I can supply, more than Crete can supply. It would take the forces of more than half of Europe to agree with this to reclaim those lands through force. No, the best option would be to attempt negotiations for the lands, and that would only work if their leader needed something we could provide that they cannot already take."
The groups of men looked from the King to one another. This would be a long day.
20 October 1560
France
The dungeon cell where Diane de Poitiers was held was cold and damp. She spent her time pacing, thinking of ways that she could possibly free herself from the prison she was confined to. Although she was a woman, she knew that if the truth came out about Princess Joan's disappearance, she would be hanged. She couldn't let that happen.
She couldn't believe that she was imprisoned, or that Queen Catherine and her son, now King Francis, had caught on to anything. She had always thought Catherine to be dense, except when it came to poisons, and her son was too good-natured to harm anyone. She had raised Francis, more or less. She expected him to be loyal to her, not his mother. What she didn't consider was the fact that as Francis grew from a child to a teenager that he would see the pain that Diane caused his mother, and that through those actions, he would develop loyalties to Catherine.
The guards had questioned her before, but apparently the new King decided that she needed to be questioned again, and this time, he was present for it. Diane hated to see him fall under Catherine's control so early into his reign as King of France, but there was no helping it now.
"You said that my sister was in Turkey," Francis stated. "No one knows where Joan is, so how could my late father's former mistress know the whereabouts of a French princess that no one has seen or heard of since 1558?"
"I was angry, Francis," Diane tried to explain. "I threw out the name of some random nation."
"It is your Majesty," he yelled, "NOT Francis. . . not to you. . . not any longer, madame."
"Forgive me, your Majesty," Diane said. "I watched you grow up. The transition is not easy."
Francis gave her a sideways glance, wondering if he should acknowledge anything she says as truth. His mother, Queen Dowager of France, Catherine de Medici, had wanted him to have Diane's eyes pecked from her head by crows, but Francis was more of a mind to find his sister first.
"Why Turkey if that is the case? Why not Spain? Why not any nation in Europe?" he asked. "No, Diane, you know where my sister is, and you will tell me." He turned to the guards. "Put her on the rack!" he ordered.
The guards moved towards Diane, seizing one arm each and dragging her to the device. They strapped her down, then looked at their King. "This is your last chance, Diane," Francis told her. "Tell me where exactly Princess Joan is, or I will have them stretch you until your limbs are disfigured."
"Your Majesty," Diane said, "I do not know where your sister is. If I did, I would tell you. I only know that she was taken by pirates away from France. I swear! I was angry when I threw out Turkey as her location. I do not know where she is."
Francis nodded at the guards, who turned the wheel attached to the rack. Diane screamed out in pain, despite it being only a small turn.
"I loved your father, your Majesty," Diane said once they released the device. "I wouldn't hurt any of his children, no matter who their mother was!" Francis nodded at the guards again, who repeated the action, causing more screaming from the prisoner. "I could never harm any of you! I loved you all, raised you as if you were my own children!"
Francis turned to her and got in her face. "That would be a great motive for someone like you to harm us though!" he yelled at her. "My father was careful to never have illegitimate children with you, so you were jealous that he had them with my mother!"
Diane shook her head. "Your father never wanted to be with your mother in that way! He told me so! I was the reason he slept with her and continued to do so until the twins were born, and the doctor said she couldn't have any more children! He stopped only because her life was at risk!"
Francis smirked at his father's mistress. "Didn't you know Diane?" he asked. "My father never stopped sleeping with my mother! Not long after the twins disappeared, he went to her chambers and comforted her over the loss they shared when Joan wasn't returned with Victoria!"
Diane looked at him. Was he telling the truth? Did Henry actually betray her? The look on Francis' face said he was serious. She chose her words very carefully as they stretched her again. "I. . . hope. . . you. . . all. . . rot. . . in. . . Hell!" With that, Francis ordered her chambers at the castle searched, and if nothing was found, then her estates as well. He looked at the woman who had raised him with disdain, then left the room as Diane de Poitiers passed out from the physical pain of the rack.
25 October 1560
Belem Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
King Carlos I of Portugal's Privy Chamber
Carlos took a sip of his wine, as he waited for his daughter and her husband. Catarina was now officially the Princess of Portugal and he wanted to sit down with her formally yo discuss what will lie ahead of her journey. He knew she would be a worthy successor and hoped things would go smoothly.
The door opened and Catarina and Juan walked in. Both bowed to Carlos.
"Your Majesty." both said.
Carlos walked over to his eldest daughter and hugged her. He nodded at Juan.
"How are you, my girl?" he asked.
Catarina smiled.
"I am well. The sickness I feel in the morning is starting to subside. What did you want to see us about, Father?" she asked.
Carlos smiled.
"Have a seat." he said, gesturing to two chairs opposite his own.
Catarina and Juan both sat down.
Carlos took a deep breath.
"I have summoned you both here to discuss your raise in station . Catarina, you are now the Princess of Portugal. When the Lord calls me to His side, you will be the first Queen of these lands. I wanted to see if either of you have any questions about this new situation." he said.
Catarina looked at Juan and then back at her father.
"Am I to expect that Juan will make the decisions and rule in my name?" she asked.
Carlos shook his head.
"No. You will be the sole ruler of Portugal and all of its territories upon my death. You will have the last word on everything. You will also be the one to decide what Royal rights Juan will have, but he will not be the sovereign." Carlos said.
Catarina looked at Juan. She could tell that he was slightly perturbed at the thought of being subordinate to his own wife. She prayed that this would not put another strain on their marriage.
Juan looked at Catarina.
"You will be Queen. I will not usurp you. I just humbly ask you that you do not treat me as a mere consort." he said.
Catarina smiled and took his hand. She turned back to her father.
"We both want to discuss our children's marriages. I want a possibility of them being in happy marriages and knowing who they will marry." she said.
Carlos nodded.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked.
"We have talked about our little Maria marrying the Prince of Asturias. They are two years apart in age and have met, despite their young years. Also, our Sebastian should marry Infanta Isabel of Spain." Juan said.
Carlos looked at Catarina.
"What do you think, Princess?" he asked.
Catarina looked at Juan and took a deep breath.
"I agree with the double alliance with Spain. I agree with little Maria marrying the Prince of Asturias. However, I do not agree with Sebastian marrying Infanta Isabel of Spain. She's four years older than him and as the eldest daughter, I do not believe the King and Queen of Spain would want her to wait longer to remain unmarried. I would prefer that Sebastian become married by the time he is twenty-one years old and by that time Infanta Isabel will be twenty-five years old. However, the King and Queen of Spain do have a third, Infanta Maria. She's currently two years old and is three years younger than Sebastian. I think that marriage makes more sense and she would have more childbearing years than her eldest sister." she said.
Juan looked at Catarina, surprised. She actually made a good point.
"Why not their second daughter, Infanta Juana? She's only a year younger." he said.
Catarina shook her head.
"No. Infanta Juana is currently betrothed to the heir of Poland. Maria of Spain is Sebastian's age and unbetrothed." she said.
Carlos decided to test his daughter's knowledge.
"That is all true. However, what about the dispensations?" he asked.
Catarina looked at her father.
"The Pope already issued it for us regarding our Maria and the Prince of Asturias. They fall into the same degree of consanguinity, just like little Joanna when she was alive, so we could actually use that papal dispensation as it called for a granddaughter of yours to marry into Spain.. It should not be hard to secure a dispensation for Sebastian and Maria of Spain. We have a great relationship with Rome and I am sure the King and Queen of Spain would not object." she said.
Carlos nodded his head and smiled. He was proud of her. She even possessed knowledge that her late brother probably would not have thought about in this particular situation. He knew that he had made the correct choice for the future of Portugal.
31 October 1560
France
Catherine de Medici couldn't have been prouder of her eldest son, Francis. He was now King Francis II of France, King Consort of Scotland, Duke of Edinburgh, and Lord of the Isles. He had gained most of his titles through his wife, Mary, Queen of Scotland, but Catherine was proud, nonetheless.
The coronation had been spectacular. The cathedral was dressed in the French royal colors, symbolizing the significance of the event that had occurred, and Francis now wore the crown of the French monarchy as his own, and as he was of age to rule, he needed no regent; just his wife by his side and his mother to guide him when it came to dealing with the nobles.
Francis and Mary now stood in the banqueting hall of the palace, receiving their guests for the festivities to follow. It was a good thing that Catherine was there. Each noble, as they were formally introduced to their new King, wanted his ear. Francis would have been bombarded for hours had Catherine not been there to usher them away after a few moments.
The herald tapped his staff once more and called out, "His Grace, Lord Alexandre Dumane, Duke of Lautrec, representing the crown of Spain and Navarre."
Lord Alexandre stepped forward and bowed to the new King of France, then to his wife, kissing her hand. "Majesties," the man said after he was acknowledged, "it is a pleasure to be included in this most historical occasion."
"Lord Lautrec, it is an honor to meet you," Francis said. "Your King and Queen spoke highly of you when we met at our wedding."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Alexandre replied. "King Luis and Queen Elizabeth send their apologies for not being able to personally attend, but there are a number of issues that kept them from this celebration."
"No apologies are necessary, Lord Lautrec," Queen Mary responded. "The weight of the crown comes first." He nodded at the beautiful, young Scottish Queen.
"May I present my siblings to your Lordship?" Francis asked. "These are my brothers, Prince Charles, Duke of Orleans and now Dauphin of France; Prince Alexandre, Duke of Anjou and Prince of Conde; and Prince Hercule, Duke of Chevreuse." Francis paused. "And my sisters, their Royal Highnesses, the Princesses, Elisabeth, Claude, Margaret, and Victoria."
Alexandre looked at the other Valois children as Francis introduced them. He knew that both Elisabeth and Claude were betrothed, but he had no recollection of arrangements for Margaret and Victoria. Victoria was a beautiful young girl, about the same age as his son, Albert. She would make a wonderful wife for a Duke, and he couldn't help but wonder if Francis would ever entertain the idea of his sister marrying a future Duke of Navarre.
"I have a son who is the same age as Princess Victoria," he told Francis. "They would make great playmates, should we ever be invited back to French court."
Francis nodded. "Victoria is extremely intelligent for her age," he told Alexandre. "In some ways, I feel sorry for her future husband." The King of France chuckled. "She may have the ability to outthink him."
Alexandre laughed, then composed himself. "Is she spoken for?" he inquired.
"Not of yet," Francis said. "Elisabeth is due to marry the Prince of Wales, and Claude is betrothed to the future Duke of Guise. Margaret recently was contracted to the heir to the Swedish throne, Prince Johan, right before my father. . ." his voice trailed off for a moment, and Alexandre nodded, solemnly. "But little Victoria is still available." Francis wondered if he was inquiring for his King or his own son.
"Would your Majesty be inclined to consider a Duke for her future husband?" Alexandre asked.
Francis thought for a moment. "Depending on his status and his dukedom, I would."
"Then consider this a nomination, your Majesty," Alexandre said. "I will send an agreement to you in the coming months for a formal contract between Princess Victoria of France and my son, Lord Albert Dumane, Future Duke of Lautrec."
Francis nodded. "I will take your proposal under consideration when it arrives, my Lord Lautrec."
"Thank you, your Majesty," Alexandre said. He then kissed Mary's hand once more and left to join the other guests.
Francis looked at Mary, who nodded her approval. Perhaps his little sister's future would be secured by the end of the year, or maybe it would come to nothing, but either way, Princess Victoria had her first real marital interest declared, and it seems that the Duke of Lautrec was interested.
4 November 1560
Palace of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
King Luis I of Spain's Privy Chambers
King Luis and Queen Elizabeth were both going over important state papers. Luis was looking over problems with the Catalan people and Elizabeth was looking over most of the Navarrese welfare system. They sometimes worked together and would get the others input on issues.
Elizabeth looked up.
"Are you still worrying over the Catalan people? Surely they can not still be causing you grief." she said
Luis rolled his eyes.
"It would snow in August, before they stop giving us problems." he said, bitterly.
Elizabeth smiled. She loved her husband's sarcastic humour, unless it was directed at her.
Suddenly, both of them heard a knock at the door.
"Come in." Luis said.
The door opened and Alex Dumane, Duke of Lautrec, walked in.
Luis smiled.
"Alex! How was France, my friend?" he asked.
Alex smiled.
"The French Court was lively, but so much is going on." he said.
Elizabeth stood up.
"Thank you for representing us there, Alex. We have heard the whispers. Is it really true that the late King's mistress was arrested for the disappearance of Princess Joan?" she asked.
Alex sighed and nodded.
"Yes, Your Majesty. King Francis even put her on the rack." he said.
Luis glared.
"I hope the whore falls to the lowest pit of Hell the moment her head is seperated from her miserable shoulders." he said.
Elizabeth looked at her husband, in shock.
"Luis." she said.
Luis shook his head.
"No, Elizabeth. She took an innocent child and gave her to those savages. God only knows what happened to the Princess. Do not expect me to have sympathy for that she-wolf, who could not keep her legs close to a married King." he said.
Elizabeth sighed and nodded.
"Poor Queen Catherine. I can not imagine the pain she is going through. It has been two years. I an glad that little Victoria was returned." she said.
Alex cleared his throat.
"This may not be the best time, but I wanted to talk about Princess Victoria." he said.
Elizabeth looked at him.
"Dear Lord, please tell me that nothing has happened to her." she said.
Alex shook his head.
"No, Your Majesty. At the Coronation, I met King Francis' siblings. Princess Victoria is an adorable child. I realized that she is only a few months older than my Albert. I mentioned the possibility of a betrothal between them. I wanted to bring the matter to both of you for approval, as your loyal subject and friend." he said.
Luis and Elizabeth looked at each other, in shock.
"Is it something that you want, my dear friend?" Luis asked.
Alex nodded.
"Yes. A prestigious match for my boy. He would have respect in the Court. However, I will only go forward with your blessing. She is a Princess and would be better suited for one of your sons." he said.
Luis walked closer to his friend.
"No. You have my full blessing to proceed. I hope that Victoria will become a wonderful wife to little Albert. As a matter of fact, I am going to make you the Duke of Huescar. You will look more attractive to the French." he said.
Alex smiled and then took a look at Elizabeth.
"Do I have your blessing as well, Your Majesty?" he asked.
Elizabeth nodded and smiled.
"Of course, Alex. You and Jeanne have been nothing, but loyal. You have my blessing as well." she said.
Alex smiled and bowed and left the two Monarchs alone.
Luis looked at Elizabeth.
"You can fool him, sweetheart. However, fooling me is not possible. We have been married for ten years. What is wrong?" he asked.
Elizabeth sighed.
I trust Alex and his family and I adore his children. However, Albert marrying Victoria would add Royal blood to their line, which is Jeanne's line. How do we know that some rogue won't use their blood against us and try to usurp me?" she asked.
Luis shook his head.
"Darling, they will have to get through me first. Let Alex have this for his son. Nothing will happen. I promise you that." he said.
Elizabeth smiled and kissed him. After a few seconds, they broke apart and she felt relief overcome her.
16 November 1560
France
Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, sat by the bedside of her husband, King Francis II. He was ill with a fever that the physicians had been unable to diagnose, and the whole family was concerned. Francis had fainted at dinner two nights prior and was taken to his chambers. He had been sleeping since then, and there was some concern that if he didn't wake soon, he would die. Mary had not left his side, except to deal with important matters of state, now that she was acting as regent of France.
Catherine de Medici, Queen Mother and Dowager Queen of France, was beside herself. Her son had been crowned King less than a month ago. Charles, his younger brother, was only ten and not ready to become King if something happened to Francis. She prayed for her son's recovery, but also for the strength to endure whatever was to come. For the time being, she had to tolerate Mary ruling France in Francis' name, as she was regent while he was unconscious.
The physicians tending to France's young king were beside themselves. The fever was unlike any they had seen. It wasn't constant. It would come and go. What troubled them most was that there were no other symptoms to make a diagnosis from. They contemplated a number of treatments, but all were met with resistance as they had no idea what they were dealing with. If they did the wrong thing, the King could die, and they would be executed. If their methods worked, they would be deemed heroes. For the time being, they could just watch the King closely and wait.
Catherine went from the chapel to her son's bedchambers. She entered the room to find Mary at his side, holding his hand, silently crying. She nodded at the Queen as she went to the other side of the bed. She felt her son's forehead, which was cool for the time being. She said nothing.
Mary wiped her tears away and looked at her mother-in-law. She knew Catherine was worried about Francis too. "I keep praying for him to wake," she said softly.
Catherine looked at her daughter-in-law. "As do I," she replied. "You know, when he was a babe, they said he wouldn't live to see his second birthday. He was so tiny when he was born, much smaller than my other children, except for the twins." Mary nodded. She knew her husband had been weak as a child, but he had surpassed the odds and survived. "I know mothers aren't supposed to have favorites, but he was my golden child, our heir. We waited for him for ten years."
Mary knew the story. Francis had told her how his parents had not had any children for the first ten years of their marriage. He didn't know why, but he knew that once he had been born, the others came almost yearly. Mary suggested that there was a reason for it taking so long, perhaps because God had fated that they would marry but if he had been born in the 1530s instead, he would have already been married by the time she was ten. Perhaps God knew they were supposed to be together, or perhaps God Himself had deemed they should be together for whatever reason. Mary only knew that she was glad that they were, and she thanked God every day for bringing him into her life.
"The physicians said that Henri and I had problems conceiving because of medical issues," Catherine continued. "They suggested we try different ways of making love to conceive. It took a while to get it right, but it finally paid off. We were blessed with ten children, though little Louis took ill, surviving less than two years. The others survived though, including our Francis." Catherine paused, looking up at Mary. "I know it doesn't help, but you will have more children, Mary."
Mary looked at Catherine. "If he wakes up," Mary said.
"WHEN he wakes up," Catherine replied, trying to give the young woman hope.
Mary nodded. "When he wakes up," she repeated.
19 November 1560
St. Hilarion Castle, Kyrenia, Cyprus
Queen Christina of Cyprus' Bedchamber
Queen Christina sighed and rested her hand on her swollen belly. She was currently expecting her third child. The entire Court was excited for the impending birth. However, Christina was very nervous. It had been ten months since the untimely death of her and King Janius' five-month old son, Prince Yiorgos. Ever since discovering she was with child again, she had been very nervous.
Suddenly, her door opened and King Janius walked in. He walked over to Christina and kissed her.
"Hello, sweetheart. Are you well?" he asked.
Christina nodded.
"Yes. I just wanted to rest more. I do not want to fail again. Yiorgos is dead because of me." she said.
Janius sighed.
"Do not say that. Yiorgos died because he was an ill child and he just did not make it. It was no fault of yours. I love you, Christina. I do not want you to keep blaming yourself. Ww are having a new child and I am so happy. This child will never take the place of our baby boy. However, let is keep loving little Nicholas and embrace this new child. It is a gift." he said.
Christina nodded and then grabbed her stomach and took a deep breath.
"Sweetheart, please alert my ladies. While you were speaking, our child decided that today it will arrive." she said.
Janius kissed her and went to get help.
Christina screamed, as her labor progressed. Janius was holding her hand. Despite the rules that men were banned from the birthing chamber, Janius absolutely refused to leave his wife's side.
He kissed her hand.
"You are doing well, sweetheart. The Lord will protect you." he said.
Christina looked at him and smiled through her pain.
The midwife looked at the young twenty-one year old Queen.
"Your Majesty, you are doing well. The head is starting to become visible. I need you to push harder." she said.
Christina screamed, as she pushed with all her might. She felt a burning sensation, as her child slid from between her legs. The child let out a loud cry.
Christina smiled at Janius.
"The cry. It is so much stronger than Yiorgos was when he was born." she said.
Janius kissed her.
"The child sounds so healthy." he said.
The midwife brought the whimpering infant over to the young King and Queen.
"Your Majesties, you have a healthy and beautiful baby girl. She is strong and will prosper." she said.
Janius smiled.
"I knew that she would be a girl." he said.
Christina took the baby from the midwife.
"Are you upset that she's not a boy?" she asked.
Janius looked at her.
"Do not ever say or think that. Even if we never have another son, I will always be happy. My concern is that you survive childbirth and that our child is healthy. Now, let us focus on what we are going to make our beautiful girl." he said.
Christina smiled.
"God gave her to us. She is our gift." she said.
Janius smiled.
"Maria. We will call her Maria, after the Blessed Mother of our Lord." he said.
22 November 1560
France
The King of France was still in bed in his chambers, unconscious from whatever illness was plaguing him. Before he had fainted a week ago, he had ordered the chambers and estates of Diane de Poitiers searched in connection with the disappearance of his youngest sister, Princess Joan. His father's former mistress had opened her mouth in front of the wrong people, namely the King and his mother, revealing that she had news of the princess' whereabouts, which led to her imprisonment until evidence could be found against her, if any existed. The searches were concluded yesterday, and Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, had hoped her husband would wake before having to decide on Diane's fate, but that was not the case. Francis remained sleeping in his chambers, leaving Mary to meet with the royal guards on her own.
She left him sleeping, after kissing his forehead, and made her way to the throne room, where the guards who led the searches were waiting. They all bowed as she entered.
"What have you discovered?" Mary asked, getting straight to the business at hand. She didn't want to spend more time away from her husband than she had to, even on a matter such as this.
"Majesty," the Captain of the Palace guards stepped forward, "my team searched her quarters here at the palace but found nothing that would incriminate Madame. Mostly clothing and books, none of which were banned."
Mary nodded and thanked the man.
Another guard stepped forward and told her that they had searched Diane's cottage, also finding nothing that would suggest she had anything to do with the disappearance. Several of the team leaders reported the same, but finally, the leader who had searched Diane's Paris estate stepped forward carrying several documents.
The man bowed. "Majesty, we found these items in her home in Paris." He presented Mary with the documents. "They seem to indicate that she organized the kidnapping, and there are also a few other things."
"Other things?" Mary questioned.
"Yes, Majesty. There are also documents here that indicate that she organized other tragedies that befell the royal family over the years, as well as purchase orders for some items that would support the evidence," the man said.
"Thank you," Mary responded. "I will have our council look over these documents and see what occurred."
She thanked the guards who had gathered, then dismissed them. She took the documents back to Francis' chambers, where she began to read them after checking on the King. Several hours passed, and it was time for their evening meal before Mary realized how long she had been pouring over what was found. She was brought back to reality when Catherine entered the room.
"Mary," Catherine said, "it's time to eat."
Mary looked at her mother-in-law with tears in her eyes. "Catherine, sit. I have things to tell you."
Catherine did as she was instructed, which was a rarity for her. Typically, she would not take orders from a younger woman, even if she was a Queen, bust something told her to listen this time, so she did.
"What is it?" Catherine asked. Mary handed her a document. Catherine read it, then looked up at Mary with disbelief in her eyes. "Is this saying what I think it is?"
Mary nodded.
"So, Diane was behind the kidnapping of my Joan?" Catherine stated and asked at the same time. "Is Joan in Turkey, then? Was Diane telling the truth?"
"I don't know about that part, Catherine," Mary said. "There's nothing here that says where the men were supposed to take her. But Joan is not the only person affected by what Diane has done. Read this." Mary handed her another piece of parchment.
Catherine stared at Mary for a moment, then reached to take the paper. Her eyes grew wider as she read what was written. "Diane was behind the death of Henri's older brother?"
Mary nodded. "She wanted Henri to become King when his father died, so she killed Francis, slowly, with poison, then planted that poison in your chambers to make it look as though you had done it."
Catherine recalled being questioned about the bottle in her chambers, but nothing ever came of it. King Francis had decided that her money was more important to France than his own son's life, especially since he had Henri to take the throne still. No one ever suspected that Diane de Poitiers would have done such a thing. There was no reason to at the time. Now it all made sense. Diane had poisoned Francis in order to make Henri the king, hoping that she would then gain favor and could control certain events through buzzing in Henri's ear. Catherine just shook her head. "I can't believe it," Catherine said. "I mean, I can, but I can't."
"There's more," Mary told her.
"More?"
"Yes," Mary said. "You need to know because it's all going to come out at the trial, and I'd rather you hear it from me than the tribunal."
"You're going to launch a tribunal against her?"
"I don't know what else to do, Catherine," Mary said. "While Francis is. . . sleeping, I am regent. I don't want to appear unjust while acting in his name, but something has to be done about this and the kidnapping of Princess Joan is grounds for death in its own right. But she needs to answer for the death of the King's Uncle, as well as her other crimes."
"What else has she done?"
"Well, according to these documents, at least the ones that I have read through, she was also the cause of the Protestant uprising five years ago, in the hopes that Henri would think you had turned against him. She was planning to pin that on you, but her contact in the movement was unexpectedly killed by one of the French legions."
Catherine shook her head. "All to keep Henri's trust and loyalty," Catherine stated. "She's unbelievable!"
"Catherine, there's also some suggestion that she may have been behind Francis' ill health as a young child AND your Louis' death," Mary informed her mother-in-law softly.
"WHAT?!" Catherine screamed, putting her hand to her mouth to cover it. Tears were already in the older woman's eyes at the news, but her anger could not be suppressed.
Mary looked at her. "According to these documents, she used something called atropa to poison them slowly. It was added in very small doses to their food."
"I know the effects," Catherine said. She was silent for a moment. "It all makes sense now. Neither of them would cry but would slowly get weaker. Louis simply didn't wake one morning." She looked over at Francis, still sleeping on the bed. "During one of his worst illnesses, the physicians said he needed to get away from the ill-humours of the palace and into the fresh air. Henri and I took him to Nice, and he got better. We thought the doctors were right. Diane was not with us on that trip though." Catherine looked back at Mary. "She poisoned my children! My God Mary, is she doing it to him now? Is that why he won't wake?"
Mary shook her head. "I don't know Catherine," she admitted as she glanced at her husband. "I just don't know, and there's no evidence to suggest she's done anything to Francis currently. The purchase orders for what she did before exist to supplement the evidence against her. The times of those purchases coincide with the illness of Francis and Louis, but there are no purchase orders for anything suspicious now."
"I'll kill her!" Catherine declared. "I'll kill that wench with my bare hands for harming my children!"
"Wait!" Mary ordered. "She needs to stand trial and answer for what she's done. The nation needs to see that we don't act without reason and law behind us. It will help Francis' rule, especially with us being so new to the throne here."
Catherine looked at her daughter-in-law and nodded. She tried to suppress her rage, and once she had control of herself, she started to leave the room. Catherine paused at the door and turned back to Mary. "Just make sure she dies painfully," Catherine said, tears flowing freely down her face. "She destroyed any hope of Henri and I being happy, and I can live with that, but she cannot under any circumstances get away with the murder, kidnapping, and harm she has done to my children. Henri and I may not have been the best parents in the world, but we did everything we could to protect them from harm. Don't let her get away with this."
Mary nodded. "Don't worry Catherine. She won't."
30 November 1560
France
Nobles from all over France had gathered for what promised to be the trial of the decade. The mistress of the former King, Henri II, who died in July, was on trial for the kidnapping of the Princess Joan, the alleged murder of the late King's elder brother, and the possible murder of Prince Louis of France, who died before the age of two from what was now thought to be poisoning. If that wasn't enough, there was also evidence to suggest that she was also the reason that the current King had been ill as a child from slow poisoning by the same method used to kill Prince Louis. To be found guilty of any of these offences would mean her death.
Diane de Poitiers was led into the room in chains, as befitting a suspected murderess. It wasn't often that a woman stood trial in France, much less one that was so highly placed at court, but justice had to be served in the charges brought against her. She sat in the chair provided for the accused and faced the dais.
There, alone, on the throne of the King of France, sat his wife, Mary, Queen of France and Scotland. King Francis was still sleeping from his recent illness and had yet to wake. However, few knew anything more than the King was appalled by Diane's alleged crimes and could not bring himself to face her without the possibility of killing her with his own hands. Those who did know the truth were not speaking of it, and those who didn't, believed that he was outraged and instead of being present at her trial, he was praying for the courage to remain civil and just.
Three magistrates were in charge of the proceedings. One was an older noble who was deemed to be suitable to stand as a peer to Diane in standing. He had known the Valois family for a long time, including Diane de Poitiers, and she had accepted his presence as one of those fit to rule on her case. The second was a younger man, but he was a cardinal of the church, who would make certain that all was handled as God would see fit. He was there because Diane was a woman and needed protection in the eyes of the law, and he had a duty to uphold biblical law in the matter, regardless of the outcome. The third man was head of the tribunal; a legal mastermind of sorts, who knew the laws of France like his own hand. He would make sure that the laws were obeyed, especially since Diane was of the fairer sex.
Once everyone was seated, the head of the tribunal, Lord Chenery, called the session to order by reading the charges against Diane. When he was finished, he asked, "How pleads the accused?"
"Not guilty," Diane replied. It was the only thing she was allowed to say in her own defense, given the laws as they stood.
"So noted," Lord Chenery said. "Present the evidence as gathered."
The guardsman who led the group that found the documents read the brief he prepared, stating what evidence was found, where it was found, and what it said. He also included the notes of what supported the evidence, like the bills of purchase for various herbs and medicines, with notes about the date of the purchases.
Once the matter of the evidence was concluded, Lord Chenery turned to Queen Mary. "Majesty, you have heard the evidence as presented by the guards who found it. You have heard the accused claim that she is not guilty of these crimes. Is there any ruling or statement that you would like to add to these proceedings before we adjourn to discuss the matters presented here?"
Queen Mary stood. "Only that all aspects of the law should be considered in this matter, as it is a hard situation to bear. Both the law of God and the law of France must be adhered to in regard to the case before us." She sat down and left it at that, not wanting to sway either side of the argument.
Lord Chenery nodded, as did the other two gentlemen on the tribunal. They rose, bowed to the Queen, then exited the room to debate the evidence, taking the scrolls of parchment with them. When they returned two hours later, everyone took their seats and waited for the verdicts.
Lord Chenery said, "In the matter of the kidnapping of Princess Joan, what say you?"
"Not guilty," both men said.
Everyone gasped, but Lord Chenery held up his hand. "In the matter of conspiracy to have the Princess Joan kidnapped, without having committed the offense personally, what say you?"
"Guilty," both men said.
The crowd applauded.
"In the matter of the death through poisoning of the late Prince Francis, former Dauphin of France, and brother to the late King, Henri II, what say you?"
"Guilty," both men said once again.
Once again, the crowd that had gathered applauded.
"In the matter of the death of the late Prince Louis of France, younger brother to the current King, His Majesty, King Francis II, what say you?" Lord Chenery asked.
"Guilty," the Cardinal said.
"Not guilty," the older noble said.
Lord Chenery thanked them both. "After hearing the evidence presented, I must add my own not guilty to the verdict. The evidence supports the idea that Madame de Poitiers could have committed the crime in question, but the death of the Prince was so long ago that he could also have died from other unknown medical issues."
The crowd was silent on the matter. Many of them did not know what to make of such a verdict, as in previous trials, only guilty or not guilty were permitted from the tribunal. The members of the audience looked at one another, wondering if Queen Mary would object. When she didn't, they let it go.
"In the matter of the alleged poisoning of the current King, Francis II, while he was a child, what say you?" Lord Chenery asked.
"Guilty," both men said once more.
The crowd applauded ferociously at the verdict. Queen Mary heard their applause, but her focus was on Diane. The former king's mistress was fuming at the idea that these men, who had sought her favor less than six months prior, were now condemning her to death. Mary, who showed no outward signs of her emotions on the matter, stood to address the prisoner.
"Diane de Poitiers, you will rise," Mary ordered. The guards forced Diane to stand. "You have been found guilty of the crimes of conspiracy, murder, and attempted murder against the royal family of France. For these crimes, you will be executed within the month, by whatever method pleases the King once he is informed of your guilt. Until that time, you will be imprisoned in the dungeons of this castle, stripped of all titles and lands you have been granted, and will have all of your remaining assets seized by the crown." Mary looked at the guards. "Remove her from my sight."
The guards each took Diane by one arm and led her from the room. She did not speak a word as she was taken to her cell. That would come later when she appealed the verdict and the sentencing. It was still considered cruel in France to execute a woman, regardless of the crime committed, and she would be appealing to the Pope himself to keep from dying at Francis' order. No, her life would not end like this, regardless of what she had done, and once she had her appeal, she would make the Valois pay for everything they had done to her since Henri had died.
5 December 1560
France
Nearly a month had passed since the new King of France had fainted. Francis II had a fever that came and went randomly, and the court physicians were still baffled when it came to the illness that plagued their young king.
His wife, Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, sat by his bedside nearly every hour of the day, except when duties called her away. His siblings had come to see him and spend time with him, praying for their elder brother to wake. His mother, Catherine de Medici, had spent more time in the royal chapel since he fell ill than she had in her nearly thirty years in France. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, and whether or not the ten-year-old, Charles, would become the next King of France.
Mary held his hand, kissing the back of it, like she did many times during the day, when his mother walked into the room. She sat on the other side of the bed, crossing herself.
"The physicians say that if he doesn't wake soon, he will die," Catherine said. "They say he's not getting the nutrition his body needs to fight the infection."
Mary looked at her mother-in-law, shocked that she would say that, even if it were true. "I know."
The two women sat in silence for the next thirty minutes before either of them spoke again. It was Catherine who broke the silence.
"Diane should have been executed immediately for her crimes against this family," Catherine told Mary. "Even Henri. . ."
"Henri isn't here," Mary interrupted. "It's up to Francis how and when she dies." Mary was determined to stay loyal to her husband, and as King of France, it was his call.
"Francis is in no condition to make such decisions," Catherine reminded her.
"I am well aware," Mary replied.
"Well, what are you going to do if he dies Mary?" Catherine asked, her voice rising. "What will happen to Diane then? Are you just going to allow a murderer to walk free from our dungeons to terrorize this family further? I don't know how you do things in Scotland, but in France. . ."
"In France, we obey the King," Mary said in her own defense. "The King is currently indisposed. When he wakes, he will decide Diane's fate, as he should."
Catherine appreciated Mary's loyalty to her son, but she wanted justice for what that woman had done to her family. She wanted the wrongs of the past righted, and she wanted Diane de Poitiers to suffer as she had during her marriage to Henri. "What is your plan, then, for if Francis doesn't wake before the end of the month?"
Mary looked at her mother-in-law with daggers in her eyes. All she wanted was for her husband, who she loved with all her heart, to wake from his sleep. She couldn't bear the idea of facing her life without him at her side. Mary couldn't even think of the alternatives if he didn't. All she knew was that if Francis died, she would soon follow him to the grave, as it was too painful to think about living without him.
"If what the physicians are saying is true, it won't matter. If Francis dies, it will be soon, and then you will be regent of France with young Charles as King," Mary reminded her. "IF that happens, YOU can decide what happens to Diane and when, for I have no doubt that I will be on my way back to Scotland before Francis' body is cold were it up to you at this point!" Mary's words were sharp and loud, resounding the pain she felt at the idea of what could happen. "I feel for what Diane did to you and your family, but honestly, right now, all I care about is Francis. I do not want to think about living without him, and Diane is the furthest thing from my mind and my heart. Now, please, do us both a favor and grant me your silence if you wish to stay, for I cannot tolerate another word about Diane while Francis fights for his life!"
Catherine looked at her daughter-in-law with fury at first, ready to retaliate against Mary's words, but then stopped herself when she saw the tears flowing freely down Mary's cheeks. Her marriage to Henri had been a farce on all fronts but the political. Francis and Mary had a different type of relationship though; one built on trust, respect, and a love that Catherine had never before seen on a personal level. She reached out to apologize to Mary but was stopped when Mary's head snapped back to the bed. Catherine also looked to her son, where he lay sleeping on his bed.
Francis had moved. His hand now lay resting on top of his wife's. Mary gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then placed her other hand on his forehead, brushing his hair back out of his eyes softly. "Francis?" she questioned softly. "Francis, come back to me, please. I need you."
Francis moaned softly, then turned his head to his wife, trying to open his eyes. It took a few minutes, but finally Mary's efforts were rewarded, and her husband looked at her for the first time since he collapsed. "Mary," he said in a whisper that could barely be heard. "My beautiful wife."
She gave him a smile and the tears flowed even more from her eyes. "Francis, you came back to me," she said. "You came back."
"How long?" he asked, wondering what would make her act like this.
"Nearly three weeks," she told him.
He was shocked. He'd been out of it for three weeks? He was confused at first, then felt another presence in the room. He turned his head and saw his mother, who was also crying. "Mother," he acknowledged.
Catherine stroked his hair gently, bending over him to kiss his forehead. She looked at Mary, who nodded. "I will have the kitchen send up some broth. Let's see about getting our King's strength to return." She turned and walked out of the room.
Mary turned her attention back to her husband. "I'm so glad you are finally awake," she told him. "I can't live without you, Francis."
"Shhh," he responded, lightly squeezing her hand again, as it was all he could manage. "I'm fine now. I didn't leave you."
Mary could just nod. "A lot has been going on since you fell ill," Mary told him. "Diane was found guilty of murder, conspiracy, and attempted murder, and the people, as well as your mother, are calling for her head. I left it up to you as to how and when she should die but promised the people that it would happen within the month."
Francis looked shocked. He knew she was responsible for his sister, Joan's, kidnapping, but he did not know about the other charges. "Murder?"
Mary nodded. "Evidence came to light from her estate in Paris that she was responsible for killing your uncle, Francis, though poison. There was also evidence that she tried to kill you as a child, and that is the reason you were so sickly. She used some type of slow acting herbs that would have never been detected. God only knows why she didn't succeed."
Catherine walked back into the room with some wine and a tray. She had gone to the kitchens herself to make sure that everything was done properly. She placed the tray next to Mary, stepping aside so Mary could be the one to care for Francis. He looked at his mother as she returned to the other side of the bed.
"I will take care of Diane, Mother," Francis said. "Give me a day or two to regain some of my strength, and the matter will be dealt with." He turned back to his wife. "Mary, should I relapse, handle her execution as you see fit in my name with my blessing. It is important to my mother, to our family, that Diane be dealt with and the matter settled."
Mary nodded, lifting the spoon to his mouth with some broth in it. He took it, gratefully, and smiled as best he could. Right now, he needed to recover from this illness so that his wife could relax, and so his mother could finally be avenged for everything that Diane had done to their family. There was time to deal with the other issues once he was back on his feet, but for now, he was grateful to be alive and have the two most important women in his life at his side.
9 December 1560
Palace of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
Lady Sancha de Mendoza, Viscountess of Narbonne's Bedchamber
Lady Sancha cradled her newborn child, with a huge smile on her face. She was so happy to have given birth to her fourth child. She didn't think that by the time she was twenty-three years old, that she would have four healthy children.
Princess Giovanna of Naples, Duchess of the Infantado and Sancha's stepmother-in-law, walked over to Sancha.
"He's beautiful, Sancha. You have done well." she said.
Sancha smiled.
"This little one took awhile to be born. The midwife said I lost a bit of blood this time. Will I recover?" she asked.
Giovanna nodded her head.
"Yes. The midwife has said you don't have a fever and you will recover." she said.
Sancha sighed, in relief.
"Thank God." she said.
Suddenly, the door opened and Queen Elizabeth walked in, with Sancha's husband, Lord Carlos de Mendoza, walked in.
Carlos smiled.
"Is this our new son, sweetheart?" he asked.
Sancha smiled.
"It is. Our second little boy." she said.
Elizabeth smiled down at the infant.
"He is adorable. The Lord has truly blessed you two." she said.
Sancha looked up at her Queen and best friend.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I am glad that you decided to come see me." she said.
Elizabeth took her friend's hand.
"That is what friends are for, dear Sancha." she said.
Carlos carefully took his newborn son from his wife.
"Sancha, would you be against naming him Diego, after my father?" he asked.
Sancha nodded.
"It suits him." she said.
Carlos placed a kiss on little Diego's forehead.
Princess Giovanna smiled deeply.
"Your father will be honored and pleased." she said.
Elizabeth and Giovanna quietly left the room so that the new parents could be alone with little Diego.
11 December 1560
France
The sixteen-year-old French King, Francis II, was still in bed, recovering from his recent illness. He was on the mend, but was weakened, and he required a lot of rest. Fortunately, his wife, Queen Mary, was able to bring most of the matters of state to him, and the story they had concocted was that the King was indisposed, spending most of his day in prayer concerning the execution of his late father's mistress, Diane de Poitiers.
Francis signed a document allowing funding to be dispersed from the treasury for a school to be built in a rural part of Nice for the children to be taught the basics of reading, writing, and mathematics. It would only educate them as far as was necessary to conduct the business of their daily lives, but at least it was something he could do to improve France. It was better for his spirits than dwelling on what was going to happen to Diane. Once signed, he put the document aside for Mary to collect when she came to see him.
He picked up the document ordering Diane's execution and read it once more. He hated the idea of executing a woman, but it had to be done in this case because she was guilty of more than one crime against the crown. He could not rightfully exile her, given the audacity of her crimes, but he did not really want to kill her either. He knew execution was just. He knew God would not condemn him for it, considering what she had done. It just did not sit well with the young king. He was grateful for the interruption when Mary walked in, carrying a packet of papers that were still sealed.
"Good morning, darling," he greeted her.
"Good morning, yourself," she replied with a smile.
"What is that?" he asked, referring to the packet.
"I do not know," she answered. "It was delivered moments ago by a Spanish rider with orders to deliver it to you immediately." She handed him the packet.
He took it from her and broke the seal, opening the parcel. "It's a betrothal request," he told her.
Mary looked at her husband questioningly. "Betrothal?"
"For Victoria," he replied. "It seems as though the Duke of Lautrec was quite taken with her at our coronation. He's requesting her hand for his eldest son, Albert, the future Duke of Lautrec, and now it seems, also the future Duke of Huescar."
"I see," Mary answered. "What do you think about the matter?"
"Well, she is a younger princess, and we currently do not have an alliance with Navarre or Spain that includes the royal family," he informed her, shifting to another page. He paused. "It looks as though King Luis has appealed to me with his own recommendation, saying that Victoria will be well taken care of through the fortunes that will be left to Albert. He also promises that the Spanish crown will pay the dowry of their eldest born daughter, should God see fit that they have children."
"That's an interesting promise," Mary said. "I don't think I've heard of a crown guaranteeing such a thing before. He must think a lot of the Duke."
"He does," Francis replied. "Apparently, the boy's mother is the former Princess of Navarre, Jeanne."
Mary nodded. That was not news to her. She knew that Jeanne had married Alexandre after her father lost the crown. "Are you seriously considering the betrothal?"
Francis thought for a moment. "I am. I think it would be good for the family to have such an alliance, and there is little hope that the boy would be available with two Dukedoms once we have children. Also, I'd prefer to see our eldest daughter married to a Prince with his own kingdom, rather than a Duke." Mary nodded again, her face falling some. "Don't worry, Mary," Francis said, touching her hand. "We will have children once I am recovered." He kissed her cheek softly. "My desire for you has not waned in the slightest; just my ability to exert myself for the moment." He chuckled, causing Mary to blush and smile.
"Well," she said, standing and smoothing out her dress, "I will leave you to these matters then."
Francis nodded. "Before you go," he began, reaching for the papers he had signed. "Could you deliver these to the council and see that they are handled accordingly, my love?"
"Of course," she said, taking the papers. She turned to leave, but as she reached the door, she looked back at her husband, who was leaning against his pillows. "Francis?" she questioned.
He sat upright. "Yes, darling?"
"I hope you know how much I truly love you," Mary said, somewhat shyly.
Francis nodded. "As much as I love you, I'm sure," he replied. He laid back once more, resting his eyes.
Mary watched him for a moment, then left the room, happy in the thought that Francis was on the mend and that they would have a future together.
21 December 1560
France
Catherine de Medici, Queen Mother of France, sat in her chambers biting her nails. Today was the day. Within a matter of hours, Diane de Poitiers would be dead, and the greatest threat against her family would be eliminated from their lives permanently.
Her son, Francis, King of France, had signed the order three days ago, after much contemplation over what Diane's method of execution should be. He had decided that she would be beheaded, swiftly, with one of the best executioners in France at the other end of the sword. Had she only been found guilty of the conspiracy of kidnapping the Princesses Victoria and Joan, she could have been exiled, but once the evidence showed that she also murdered a prince of France, he could not save her life. She had to die under French law.
The crowds were already gathering in the courtyard of the palace, where the execution would take place. Diane would die in front of her peers, as a warning against any who would think to go against the crown in the future. Francis had to attend, and Charles, though he was only ten years old, as heir to the throne, would also be there. Catherine wanted to be there to see Diane's last moments. She wanted Diane to know that the Valois had won. Mary, Queen of France, had opted not to attend the execution, afraid that she would have nightmares from the sight. Elisabeth and Claude were excused by their elder brother, despite being of age to attend, and the other Valois children were deemed too young.
Francis was a young king, as well as being new to the throne. Eyes would be on him today, gauging his reaction to what Diane had done, and whether or not he would be as cold as his father when executions occurred under his rule. Eyes would also fall upon his mother to see how she would react to her long-time nemesis being removed from the picture at last.
As time for the deed drew closer, Catherine made her way to the courtyard and to the designated area for her family to sit during the event. She was joined by Charles first, then Francis made his way to the seating area. He had already discussed what would happen with his mother. He would give Diane one chance to save her own life by admitting she had organized Joan's kidnapping and telling them where the Princess had been taken. If she cooperated, she would live out her natural life in prison, but she would live, showing the realm that the King was merciful to those who obeyed his rule. If she refused, she would die. Either way, she would no longer be a threat to his family.
When they led Diane to the executioner's block, she stared straight in front of her, never looking to the side or at the people surrounding her. Many threw rotten fruit at her, while others shouted obscenities. Diane did not flinch. She kept moving, surrounded by her guards, then climbed the steps to the platform, where she faced the King and Queen Mother.
"Diane de Poitiers, you have been found guilty of the murder of the late Prince Francis, elder brother to the late King Henri II. You have been found guilty of the attempted murder of the current King, Francis I. You have also been found guilty of conspiracy to kidnap the twin princesses, Victoria and Joan of the House of Valois," read the Bishop of Reims. "What say you to these charges?"
"I am not guilty," Diane said firmly. "I never killed anyone, nor did I attempt to kill our beloved King, Francis. I raised him from the time he was born, and I loved him as my own son."
"And of the charge of kidnapping?" the Bishop asked.
"The masses will believe what they want to about all three charges, so why should I waste my last breath on this?" Diane questioned instead of answering.
Francis stood. "Madame, I will offer you one chance to save yourself. Tell us where the Princess Joan was taken, and I will postpone your death until we have searched that place for her. If she is found alive, your execution will be suspended."
Diane looked at Francis, then at Catherine beside him. "What I have done, I did for Henri. I loved him with all my being. It was all done in his best interest. If that makes me a traitor, so be it."
Francis looked at her one more time, then turned to the executioner and nodded. Diane was forced to kneel.
"May God have mercy on your soul," the Archbishop said, crossing the prisoner, then himself.
Diane continued to stare at Francis until the sword severed her head from her neck, and the world had seen the last of Diane de Poitiers, mistress to the late King of France.
24 December 1560
Palace of Madrid, Madrid, Spain
The Banquet Hall
Queen Elizabeth was smiling, as she was looking at everything that was going on around her. She loved the Court at Christmas. She was wearing a dark red gown, a ruby necklace and everyone had to admit that their Queen was extremely beautiful. Many of the courtiers adored her because of her intelligence, charisma, beauty, kindness, piety and her fertility. She and King Luis has been married for ten years and had already produced six children, three of them being sons and with the couple only being twenty-seven years old, there was hope for even more.
Luis smiled and kissed Elizabeth's hand.
"You did a wonderful job with Christmas this year, darling. I loved the play you put together about the story of Christ's birth." he said.
Elizabeth smiled.
"Thank you, sweetheart. I just hope everyone enjoyed everything today. Tomorrow I just want to have a quiet Christmas with the children." she said.
Luis nodded his head. Unlike most other Royals, he and Elizabeth loved quiet family moments. It was important for Luis, since his own mother didn't have much say so over his upbringing and Luis didn't want his children to feel like they were only valued by their Royal duties.
"We have had an eventful year. Holland finally sorted out its differences. We had our little Juan. Everyone seems to finally be content with our reign." he said.
Elizabeth smiled.
"It will seem that way, but we must always be constantly aware of everyone. We must not take anything for granted. However, now we must give thanks to our Lord. We have not had to endure many heartbreaks, not like my poor sister, Mary." she said.
Luis sighed.
"She has been through a lot this year. I pray that the Lord will heal her and King Carlos in the coming year." he said.
Elizabeth smiled, hoping that he was right.
"I hope you love your present that will be arriving tomorrow." she said.
Luis smirked.
"Are you saying that I cannot make you scratch my back tonight?" he asked, quietly.
Elizabeth tried to stifle a laugh.
"Luis, my gift is your mother. You have not seen her all year and I decided to surprise you with bringing her to Court." he said.
Luis smiled and hugged his wife. He had not seen his mother in awhile and he couldn't wait to see her again. Christmas in the Spanish Court had never seemed so brighter.
A/N 1560 is officially over! This Chapter I know was definitely an emotional rollercoaster, but we all made it. I hope you all enjoyed the beauty and the good times and maybe teared up at the sad moments. I appreciate the patience between uploads. Fifteen-sixty one will definitely be interesting. Please Read and Review and Chapter Sixty will be up very soon!