A/N: Alright, let me start off by saying I am so sorry to have kept you lot waiting for this long. I do want to take a moment to assure you that this is without a doubt the longest chapter of this story so far, I even made a few extra additions to ensure that. And while that doesn't entirely exucse the absence despite promised updates, I do hope it does bring at least a little consolation, however small. I'm still mastering the fine art of time management and juggling multiple life changes and events. Still, I did promise a chapter and I didn't put it here when I promised, and I am still trying to work on that. That said, I do thank each and every one of you who haven't abandoned this story, even when its writer can be a bit funny. I am thankful to each of you and glad you enjoy the story as much as you do. And a very special thank you to Lord Mortensen, Marina Ka-Fai, Vwchick, Guest, SunRise19, SaikoGoyangi, kate657, IWantColouredRain, Sakura, lawshark, and tricorvus for all of the wonderful reviews on the previous chapter. And another special thank you to andjelija . nenic for the review on chapter 25, glad you're enjoying it so far. Now without further delay, onto the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors or any of the characters, Showtimes does.
...
"How could you do this?"
Mary's eyes filled with tears of anger and grief as she glowered at her husband.
"I was afraid that-"
"Afraid!" Mary shouted. "My brother and sister are dead and my remaining siblings most likely believe I want nothing more to do with them because they haven't heard from me and you talk of being afraid!"
"Mary, I should have made a better choice in this, I realize that now...but I was worried that you would-"
"That I would lose your child!" Mary seethed. "I thought...I thought you were different. But you are just like my father...he and every man in this forsaken world! All you want is a boy!"
"Mary, that's not true!" Phillip cried. "I didn't want-"
"Take your hands off me, sir!" Mary jumped back as though Phillip's touch burned her.
Before Phillip could say a word, his wife turned and stormed to the door and gave him one last look before leaving.
In that one look, he saw not the sweet wife he had spent so many happy months with. No, now he saw the young woman who had been torn from her mother, downtrodden by the hardships her own father placed upon her, and denied happiness for so long.
He sighed heavily.
How was he to mend this?
...
"Edward will arrive soon," Elizabeth said softly.
"Well, I have no desire to see him," Geoffrey stated coldly.
Geoffrey earnestly wished that all the Seymours were swept from court forever. After all, why should they be allowed to remain when his sister and beloved brother were gone? Why should they have the chance they stole from children? Not just any children, their prince and princess! And one of whom was their own niece!
He had once heard it said the Seymours were wolves. Perhaps like wolves, their greedy and ravenous nature knew no bounds. Not even when it threatened to consume their own family.
Elizabeth glared at her younger brother.
"You know as well as I that our brother is not to blame for any of this. He was just as much a victim as we are. How would you have felt if Mother had killed me?"
"That is different!" Geoffrey snapped, subconsciously clutching the locket that held his mother's likeness. "Mother would have never tried to poison Edward or Margery! You know that!"
"Geoffrey, Edward had nothing to do with any of it. And right now he is lost and hurt and afraid. Our sister is dead, his mother is locked in the tower, our other sister will not respond to us, and our father is furious and aggrieved. We must stay strong and help each other through this difficult time. Would you not seek the same comfort as him were you to be in his position?"
Geoffrey thought about it for a moment before sighing.
"You may tell him that he may come if he wishes," the prince said, his expression and tone unreadable. "But not to expect anything."
Elizabeth nearly smiled, but immediately became concerned when Geoffrey clutched his locket more tightly and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Geoffrey," Elizabeth was unable to keep her voice from trembling slightly. "What is it?"
"Did Harry ever tell you what he saw the first time he was poisoned?"
Elizabeth frowned and shook her head.
"No...He told you, I assume?"
Geoffrey nodded. Of course Harry had told him. The pair were twins, bound to each other more than typical siblings, even when they lived apart.
"Harry told me that before he awoke, he...saw Mama," the surviving prince smiled sadly.
"He saw..." Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly and her jaw dropped.
"He said thsat he had wanted to stay with her...and she told him she loved him, and us, so much."
"She did," tears began to gather in Elizabeth's eyes as she wrapped her arms around Geoffrey, rocking him slightly, ignoring all of the decorum she had been instructed to show as a princess. "Mama loved all of us very very much. I was only a little girl, but I still remember the way she looked at you and Harry when you were born. She never stopped smiling and anytime she held either of you, you had to be tugged from her arms before she'd even consent to let you go."
"I never even knew her, but I miss her," Geoffrey's icy resolve was beginning to dissolve. "I wish I could have known her...I never knew her, but I love her..."
"We will see her in Heaven, sweet brother," Elizabeth soothed, wiping the tears from her brother's cheeks. "And then you'll have forever with her and Harry and me. And even Margery and Edward. We'll all be a family and we'll never say goodbye again. Won't that be wonderful?"
Geoffrey smiled and looked down at the image of his mother, her eyes, the eyes she passed on to him, staring back.
Allowing one last tear to fall, the young Duke of York kissed the portrait in memory of the queen and mother he had never known.
Neither prince nor princess knew how much more time passed as they sat there on the floor, silently weeping in each other's arms. Nor did they care. Their only concern was comforting and being comforted by one another.
...
Jane set down the embroidery she had been trying to concentrate on for the last hour. Yet her hands shook so and her mind was so frenzied, she could not make another stitch.
How could this be happening? Surely Henry would see sense and order her release at once. Elizabeth might have been a wretched traitor and murderess, but at least Catherine, if the rumors were to be believed, had gone to her death without implicating her queen.
If it were so, then Jane believed she almost could reconcile herself with the fact that it had been the Duchess of Suffolk's carelessness that had allowed for the cakes to be switched and as a result robbed her of her darling Margery.
Master Kingston had not brought her any news from the king, but even as the days passed with little hope of change, Queen Jane was certain that even with their marriage being significantly cooler these past few years, Henry would soon open his eyes and remember how much he had loved her. She, his lovely English Rose, his Guinevere.
...
"Father, where are you going?"
Charles Brandon sighed and knelt before his only surviving son, Hal Brandon.
"I'm leaving court," he said. "I shall retire to the country and remain there contentedly until I leave this earth. The king in his gracious mercy has given me leave to go, and so I shall."
'Before he has a chance to change his mind,' the Duke of Suffolk added inwardly.
Truthfully, he had wanted to leave court for some time. Just a few short years ago, he would have given anything to return to the decadence and intrigues of the English Court. And he had, allying himself with the likes of Norfolk and Thomas Boleyn to depose Wolsey and help place Anne Boleyn on the throne. And every day since then he had regretted the part he placed in the undoing of not only Wolsey, but also Queen Katherine and any chance of England reconciling with Rome. And by extension, allowing for the Pilgrimmage of Grace to take place, along with its brutal and bloody end. Had that never happened, perhaps his marriage to his once beloved Catherine might never have been destroyed as it was.
He thought of Anne, how much he had hated her, and how gleeful he had felt when it seemed she would be replaced by Jane Seymour and cast aside as Henry's wife just as Queen Katherine had been thanks to her. It would have been unfortunate for her baby to lose its life, however it would have led to so many others not losing their lives, such as the newly made Cardinal Fisher, and of course the king's dear friend Thomas More. And then there was the life of the once Princess Mary, whom Anne had spitefully persuaded Henry to mistreat, denying her any fatherly kindness, and keeping her from her beloved mother even when the poor woman lay on her deathbed. And after unleashing so much chaos upon the kingdom, Anne herself had died before she could even fully enjoy the benefits of her stolen queenship.
At the time, Charles had thought it a fitting end for the dark-haired temptress who had seduced the king. But then he heard the people grieving for the mother of their twin princes, calling her Good Queen Anne. How hypocritical they had been; they who had deserted the streets on the day of her coronation and continually slandered her firstborn daughter as a bastard. Her bearing not one, but two living heirs for the king, had made the people love her. And her death ensured that she would never truly fade from their minds.
Even in her death, Anne had triumphed; there was little murmur of Queen Katherine anymore. Maybe here and there once in a while, but even now years later people still spoke of Queen Anne laying down her life to allow her sons to survive. Even now, Henry himself still visited her grave and left one red rose and one white along with a promise to one day be laid to rest beside her.
Charles could only imagine the hatred and anger this must have made Queen Jane feel.
Jane...
Much like Anne before her, it became clear to Charles that while Jane was far from educated as Anne had been, she was also possessed of a spiteful nature. Nothing like the golden-haired, shy and virtuous maiden she had initially appeared to be. Especially given her ill-disguised dislike of Henry's children by Anne.
For so long, Charles had believed Anne was truly to blame for everything that had transpired. But after the Pilgrimage of Grace, Charles had had to learn what was perhaps one of his hardest lessons in life. Not only had Henry had the power to make those choices, but in some cases, so had Charles himself. And other times, he had not when faced with orders of his king.
As he glanced down at the last family he had in England, Charles fought back tears as he acknowledged that he could not lay the blame solely at the doors of others.
He had made it his choices. And his choices had consequences. Sometimes to others rather than himself, but consequences all the same.
"Hal," he forced his voice to remain strong as he clamped a hand upon the boy's shoulder. "You may remain with Prince Geoffrey's household if that is what you wish. But I beg you, my son...I beg you...do not ever let your heart grow hard against others. If you do, it will only destroy you. As it did your mother, and our family."
Hal frowned. He had never seen his father behave in such a way, and it frightened him.
As he felt his son's arms around him, Charles nearly fell to his knees and he was overcome by the desire, no the need to cry out for his lost family, his lost friends, and all of that joy he had lost and now had no hope of regaining.
If there was any solace to the pain and hellish torment he had gone through, some of it self-inflicted, it was that perhaps in the countryside he could finally have peace.
But in his heart, he seriously doubted that.
"Yes, Father. I promise," Hal's voice said solemnly, feeling it best to set his poor father at ease. And thankfully his words had their desired effect.
"Good man," Charles smiled sadly before pulling his son into an embrace, still wrestling with his inner demons and attempting to keep his tears at bay.
While true peace may continue to elude him, his son's final promise to him could present some relief to his world-weary heart.
...
"Mary?"
Mary, who had been holding her infant Katherine to her, looked up to see her cousin by marriage Anne.
"Anne," Mary frowned. Normally the younger woman would have been happy to see her friend, but now there could only be one reason she was here. "I presume Phillip sent you?"
Anne smiled sadly and shook her head.
"No. He does not even know I have come. But I did hear you speaking together."
"Shouting might be a better word for it for me," Mary looked down. Perhaps she shouldn't have reacted that way, but she couldn't bring herself to feel remorse for it. Not when Phillip had lied to her. And for so long.
"Shouting, ja," Anne permitted a bitter smile. "Mary, I know you are angry, and you have a right to be. But, I ask you to please listen to me before you make further judgement. Can you promise me that?"
Mary could feel a heaviness pressing down upon her. Had Anne known?
"I...do promise..." she answered after a few moments with hesitation.
Anne sighed.
"Phillip did open one of your siblings letters, stating Prince Harry and Princess Margery had been killed. He was worried you would become so distressed-"
"I would lose his child," Mary finished, the very statement leaving a sour taste in her mouth.
"Mary, you must understand-"
"I thought Phillip loved me," Mary interrupted. "I thought he was different."
She did not raise her voice for fear of disturbing little Katherine, who had fallen asleep in her mother's embrace, blissfully unaware of the turmoil about her.
"You knew..." Mary glared at Anne. "You knew and said nothing. You just stood by and allowed him to lie to me?"
"Mary, you promised to-"
"I see what promises are worth here," Mary spat.
Anne herself now fought back a glare.
"Allow to explain and you will truly understand, Mary," she said, steeling her resolve.
Mary actually gaped; Anne of Cleves had always been so gentle and soft-spoken, but now she seemed for the first time truly angry. Or at the very least, frustrated.
"Phillip did not wish to tell you because he feared you would become distressed and lose your child. And he did not want you to believe if the child was, heaven forbid, lost...that it was your fault. He did not want you blaming yourself for something that was not your fault. He loves you so much and he does not want you to be unhappy anymore. You are still so young and you have suffered so much already. He did not want you to suffer more."
The weight of the German princess's words began to take hold and Mary clutched baby Katherine closer.
It was true; if her grief for her siblings' deaths had caused her to lose her little daughter before she'd even had a chance to live, Mary truly would have never forgiven herself. For the rest of her days, she would have believed it had been her fault her daughter had...died.
Phillip, in his love not only for their child, but for her as well, had kept this dreadful secret to protect them both.
But...
"Why did he continue to stop my letters?" Mary looked into Anne's eyes, noticing that Anne's as well as her own were brimming with tears.
"He was afraid that they would continue to say something alluding to the deaths," Anne confessed. "I told him he should tell you, but he said he would wait until you had had at least some joy from being a mother before he told you. He made me promise not to tell you. Oh, sweet Mary, do you understand now? Phillip loves you! He did not do this to deceive you. He only wants to see that you are kept safe and happy and that you know the love he has for you."
"I...I told him he was like my father..." Mary began to weep. "I did not realize..."
"You can still be happy," Anne gently took hold of her cousin-in-law's shoulders and kissed the younger woman's cheek. "But you must talk with him. Forgive each other, help each other. And be good and loving to each other just like when you first married."
"Phillip is not my father," Mary actually smiled. "He...he is very much unlike him..."
"Go and talk with him," Anne urged kindly. "He will not be angry. I promise."
Mary nodded and climbed to her feet. She nearly placed little Katherine back into her cradle, but then thought better of it. Let Phillip truly know he was forgiven by seeing not only his wife, but also the daughter he had risked his own happiness in his marriage to protect. Mary would let him see that his efforts had not been in vain.
In spite of still feeling some lingering tension herself, Anne smiled. She knew Mary's experiences and poor treatment over the years had hardened what had no doubt been a sweet little girl once. But she could also tell that these experiences had not entirely destroyed the younger lady's sweet and gentle heart. So, while she knew that it would be a very hard thing for everyone involved, in the end it would be alright. They just had to get through it all.
After taking a few moments to compose herself, the princess made up her mind on what she knew she had to do.
She quickly called for ink and parchment and began to write her letters. One to Princess Elizabeth, one to Prince Geoffrey, and one to King Henry. Each one expressing her deepest condolences in regards to the losses of Harry and Margery, taking care to omit the treachery of Queen Jane, and expressing her deepest desire to aid in this difficult time in any way she could. After all, they were not only allies through the Protestant League, but they were also bound by familial ties now, with Mary's marriage to Phillip and of course their darling Katherine, whom she delighted in informing the English royals proved to be a healthy child.
As she finished these letters, she felt the urge to write one as well to little Prince Edward. There was no doubt he may have the Seymour look, but by what Anne had seen, none of their nature. Why punish the child for the sins of his family after all?
...
Elizabeth took a deep breath as she began to pen a quick letter to be sent to Edward when he arrived.
She wanted to see him at once and let him know that she did not blame him for what his mother and aunt had done. Edward was but a child, and in fact she was certain he was just as upset about all of this and she and Geoffrey were.
While she was still very young, Elizabeth's sharp mind and keen intellect also had pointed out that unlike she and Geoffrey, who had their uncles, aunts, and cousins to help protect them, Edward's family did not enjoy such security. One of his aunts had already been executed for treason and murder, his mother was now being held for treason and murder, one of his uncles now stood accused of treason as well. The Seymours were falling quickly and Edward, despite being a Prince of England, was likely to be dragged down with them.
Elizabeth was thirteen now, nearly a woman and on the brink of her marriage to the Duke of Angouleme. The betrothal showed no signs of being broken, so she would soon marry the duke and then depart for France.
Geoffrey was ten and now due to his elder twin's death, the role of heir now fell to him.
But little Edward was only a boy of six. And being the kinsman of the Seymours, very few would care for interests.
Elizabeth couldn't leave her youngest brother in harm's way. She wouldn't!
...
As she walked through the corridors, she felt her heart lighten more and more. What in her life could she have possibly done to deserve the blessings she now had?
"Phillip!" his name sprang from her lips like a song as she saw her husband, now sitting by the fireplace in his study, his head in his hands.
"Mary!" he looked up and hurried to his feet before approaching her carefully. "Mary, I-"
"It's alright," Mary couldn't stop the happy tears from falling down her face. Nor did she want to. "I understand. Truly, I do. And I forgive you. I know you didn't do this out of malice. You did it for me, for us, for Katherine."
As she said this, Phillip glanced down at the babe in her arms and he began to shed tears as well.
"Oh, my love," he murmured, laying a hand against her cheek, gently caressing away the tears before planting a gentle kiss upon her lips. "I wanted to tell you. I just did not know how to."
"I understand," Mary said again. "And I was angry with you. But I see why you did it. I...I would have blamed myself if something had happened to Katherine. And I realize that you understood this before I did. That's why you wanted to protect me."
"Mary, I should always want to protect you," Phillip said, his eyes now locked onto hers. "You are my wife, my love, and the mother of our beautiful child. I will give my last breath if it means you are safe and happy."
"The Lord truly is so good," Mary could feel the sides of her face beginning to hurt but she could not bring herself to stop smiling. "What did I do to deserve you, Phillip?"
"Perhaps I should ask that question as well," Phillip's smile mirrored his wife's. "For what did I do to deserve you?"
"The Lord truly is so good," Mary said again.
"Yes...He most certainly is," Phillip said. "And during our prayers this evening, we shall both remember to thank Him for this."
Mary nodded.
"If you wish, when you are ready," Phillip's voice became more gentle still. "Your letters are in my study. I did not read any of them but the one. You may read them when you are ready."
Mary handed Katherine, still peacefully sleeping, to her father.
"I should like to do so," she said. "After our daughter is returned to her cradle."
Phillip nodded and gently adjusted the small bundle in his arms, before offering a part of his arm to Mary, and the pair set off to their daughter's nursery.
...
...
Alright, so I will admit I actually kind of teared up writing Phillip and Mary's scene here at the end. But can you blame me? There's a LOT of feels here. That said, I do hope everyone enjoyed that update and that the extra additions were enough to at least somewhat make up for how long you all had to wait. I promise I am going to make more of an effort to give you lovely readers more to tide you over until the next updates. And for those of you enjoying this story, along with my other Tudors fic A Prince at Last, I have some exciting news, but you will have to wait until next chapter to receive it. But worry not, that next chapter will be out, without fail, first thing on the morning of Monday, November 15th. Until then, everyone.