CHAPTER 1, FEBRUARY 1550
Large, white snowflakes floated from the grey sky and covered the castle gardens with a fresh layer of snow. The castle lay quietly, unlike in summer, when court life took place mainly in the gardens and by the water. Behind the thick walls of the building, the King of France sat staring out with a longing gaze. Despite the fire in the fireplace, there was a damp chill in the room that made him shiver. Henry Valois liked winter better, when he could roam the silent woods on his horse, dressed in several layers of fur. Instead, he was stuck here, in conversation with the German ambassador.
Henry tried to concentrate again on his counterpart's almost fluent French and stroked Diane's leg, lost in thought. His mistress had taken a seat on his thigh, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her presence gave Henry a sense of security he was almost ashamed of.
A king should never depend on the approval of other people. But Diane was Diane, and from her mouth every word sounded like a prayer. He lowered his eyes to the familiar line of her collarbone, the gentle curve of her neck and finally her high cheekbones. The fine fabric of her dress felt soft under his fingers and Henry had to force himself anew to give the ambassador his full attention. Only a few hours ago he had had a minor fight with Catherine, which was without a doubt the reason she had decided to keep him and the ambassador waiting. But instead of giving her the space for such moodiness, he had simply started the meeting with the ambassador without making a point of his wife's presence. However she planned to inflict pain on him with little side blows, he had an ace up his sleeve. An ace in the form of the beautiful woman sitting on his lap. Sometimes it frightened Henry what the pain in Catherine's eyes did to him when she saw him and Diane together.
Finally, the ambassador stopped talking and Henry looked at the older man for a moment. He was stocky in build and a cap hid his thinning head of hair. Nothing about him or his pinched face exuded trustworthiness and Henry began to consider just sending him home. Diane touched his hand, almost imperceptibly and definitely invisible to anyone not looking closely. Henry cleared his throat, remembering his part in the conversation. "Of course, we will..." he began in his most diplomatic tone but was interrupted by the door opening loudly. Catherine was standing in the doorway with a neutral expression on her face. If she was upset about the fact that he had already started without her, she didn't let it show. However, Henry thought he saw something flicker briefly across her features when she spotted Diane in his lap. Was that pain in her eyes?
The German ambassador rose instantly, pulled his cap off his head in a hasty movement and bowed deeply to the Queen. Catherine nodded curtly and took measured steps towards her chair next to Henry's. She had her hands folded over her belly, presenting her fifth pregnancy like a trophy.
Catherine had a habit of using her pregnancies as a demonstration of power, to show everyone at court that she was still carrying his children, no matter what quarrels had occurred between them. In Henry's eyes, however, this made her nothing more than a broodmare. He could not understand that this was one of the few ways a woman could prove that she was in a position of power.
He watched her posture and to his surprise, Catherine walked past the chair set aside for her and directly towards him. Henry caught the appraising look she gave Diane and raised his eyebrows. Catherine knew very well how he felt about such behaviour towards his mistress. Diane shifted her weight uneasily as Catherine came closer and closer without making any effort to stop. Henry made a reassuring stroking motion with his hand on her thigh. He knew Catherine would never dare touch a hair on Diane's head, especially not in public.
He was to be proved right. Without another word or another glance at Diane, Catherine moved her right arm unexpectedly quickly and powerfully. Henry was so surprised that he almost pushed his mistress off his lap. Along with a hiss that Henry identified as Italian, a sharp clapping sound erupted. Burning heat spread across his left cheek.
Catherine had simply slapped him. With the ambassador and two secretaries present.
His surprise prevented an immediate reaction and before he could form another clear thought, Catherine had rushed back out of the room with a waft of her skirt. Clearly, he had misinterpreted the expression in her eyes - it had been pure, cold anger.
Diane looked at him with wide eyes and lifted a hand to place it against his burning cheek. He got a grip on her wrist before she could make things worse and more embarrassing. Although his wife had undoubtedly left a mark on his face, he decided to pretend nothing had ever happened. By fleeing, Catherine had escaped direct reprimand and that was possibly for the best. Henry didn't want to do anything he would regret later.
"Please, go," he murmured, indicating to Diane that she should leave the room. He let go of her wrist, she rose and curtsied, nodded to the ambassador, and floated out of the room.
Although Henry's cheek was still burning after Diane had already disappeared for several minutes, he did not raise his hand to touch it, instead continuing the conversation with the ambassador as if nothing had ever happened. Henry wished he could have rebuked Catherine in an appropriate manner. This would now end in another argument in his chambers. In the last two years such situations had become more frequent, at this point they both could hardly exchange a word without yelling at each other. Henry forced himself to concentrate, he would deal with Catherine later.
After another gruelling hour of diplomacy and conversation that brought neither him nor the German ambassador the desired results, Henry ended the meeting. At last, he rose from the uncomfortable chair, stretched his stiff limbs, and left the room. Four guards followed him at every turn towards his chambers. The counterproductive conversations had cooled his initial anger, much to Catherine's benefit, but a frustration still smouldered within him, heating his body and his mind. His firm footsteps echoed off the stone walls and rows and rows of nobles and servants curtsied as he strode past them without paying them much attention. Just outside his chambers, Henry turned to look at two of his guards.
"Bring the queen to me. Immediately," he instructed them in a tone that left no room for question or contradiction. They left the small group after Henry had entered his chambers. A loose hand gesture was enough, and a servant hurried over to take his crown and jacket. Henry circled his shoulders and enjoyed the cosy warmth of his chamber. His gaze slid briefly over his surroundings, lingering on the slender figure sitting expectantly on his bed.
"Diane," was all he said and poured himself a goblet of wine. He emptied it in a few sips and set it down again. Diane remained silent and merely looked at him, her head cocked to one side. She knew very well that talking about Catherine would only enrage Henry, so she kept silent and waited until he was ready to give her his full attention.
Minutes passed in an amicable silence and Henry almost forgot that Catherine was making him wait at that moment. "I'm glad you're back," Henry said at last and Diane looked up. "You know, dear Henry - I come whenever you ask me."
Henry nodded gratefully and glanced angrily at the door. Why couldn't Catherine have that quality? While Diane had returned from Paris within days of his request to join him back at court, Catherine had made a habit of making him wait at will.
Henry grew impatient while Diane sat calmly on the bed, wrapping a dark strand of hair around her index finger. Her soothing indifference never crossed the line into overt boredom and Henry enjoyed just looking at her. Finally, he heard footsteps and looked up.
Catherine entered the room with a stern expression and almost instantly Henry's servants withdrew. No one wanted to be present when these two temperaments clashed.
The anger Henry thought he had controlled flared up again as Catherine proudly jutted her chin and looked at him arrogantly. She seemed to show neither remorse nor humility and Henry clenched his hands into fists. His wife's gaze fell on Diane, and Catherine raised her eyebrows. "What is she doing here?" she asked contemptuously, and Henry turned to his mistress.
"Diane, dear, please wait for me in your room." Usually, he didn't care much for terms of endearment, but knew it would hurt Catherine. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to humiliate her as she had humiliated him. In doing so, Catherine, in his eyes, could be glad that he didn't let it happen in public.
Diane rose slowly and strode past them to leave the room. Catherine's expression showed no movement and just to elicit a response from her, Henry held Diane back. "Wait." He slowly pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. Surprised as Diane must have been, she was all too happy to play along and returned the kiss with an intensity that almost made Henry forget that they were not alone. A moment or two passed and she broke away from him. Henry stroked her cheek and watched Diane turn away with a triumphant smile and leave the room.
"What was that about?", Catherine's voice was not yet trembling, as Henry had expected, but the expression on her face spoke volumes. The pain that was written on her face for a moment triggered a strange feeling of satisfaction in Henry.
"I could ask you the same thing." The door clicked quietly shut behind Diane and anger at Catherine's behaviour boiled up again in Henry. He took a few steps towards her, but Catherine didn't move an inch. "How dare you embarrass me like that?" he snapped at her, but his stubborn wife merely snorted contemptuously.
Henry began to have difficulties in not unleashing his fury on her with full force. He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. First, he would have to make something else clear.
"I let Diane come to court because I want her here. I don't have to tell you why or for how long, I am your king and I answer to no one, not even you Catherine," he saw her press her lips together into a thin line and the expression in her eyes was icy cold.
"Maybe not as a king, but as a husband," she replied impassively, and Henry shook his head. "I don't know what marriage you're talking about," he replied in frustration, "there's nothing that connects us, Catherine." He remembered the look she had given Diane and took another step closer to her. "So should you criticise or question my decisions regarding Diane...," Henry saw Catherine avert her gaze.
"Look at me," he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to him, forcing her to look him in the face, "if you so much as bat an eyelid or touch a hair on her head, humiliate her in any way, you will bitterly regret it."
Catherine had stiffened near him and held against his grip. Silence settled over them and the only reaction Henry got to see was Catherine tightening her jaw until her teeth gritted. Still, she remained silent.
Henry knew he was hurting her but tightened his grip. Her pregnancy forbade him to get any more physical. Yes, he was angry, but he would never endanger any of his children, not even and especially not an unborn one. "Same goes for that little scene earlier," he added, his voice dangerously low.
Catherine's breathing quickened a little, just a little, and she tried to squirm out of his grip. "Let go of me Henry," the tremble in her voice made her command much less impressive. Henry did not give in.
"Are we clear?" he asked sharply, continuing to hold her with ease.
Catherine had pressed her lips together again and was just staring at him angrily.
"Caterina." That was his final warning and Catherine knew it as well as he did.
"You would never hurt me," she replied after a few tense seconds. Her voice was quiet, but the trembling was gone. She didn't avert her gaze from him, the sneer in it almost making Henry lose control, "not while I'm carrying one of your children."
"I swear by everything I hold sacred," he growled, his fingers still clasped around her upper arm, "if you dare raise your hand to me one more time, I may forget myself. Whether you are pregnant or not."
Henry saw the colour drain from her face. Cheeks flushed with anger turned pale and shock was written all over Catherine's face. Henry felt her resistance weaken for a moment.
"You wouldn't..." her reply was little more than a whisper as she looked at him in disbelief.
"Do you want to find out?", Henry interrupted her sharply. Catherine shook her head wordlessly and Henry finally let go of her arm. He stepped back to pour himself more wine and put some distance between them.
Of course, with a child under her heart, the queen was untouchable. France needed sons, even if Henry hated to admit it. Much had changed between him and Catherine after she had given birth to Claude. A second girl, and that while Francis was sickly. He was a weak child and even while his wife completely shut her eyes to that fact, the doctors did not believe he would ever become strong enough to be king. Then after Claude, another pregnancy full of difficulties that had ended in the dramatic birth of a dead son.
"Whatever flea Diane put in your ear to make you think...", Henry heard his wife mutter and he wheeled around. In a few steps he was back with her and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "Haven't you understood yet?!" he roared, completely losing his temper. Catherine's face took on a strange shade of grey, even her red lips turned white. Was that fear in her eyes? Henry didn't know and he didn't care. "I want you to be quiet! This has nothing to do with Diane, only your inability to keep your filthy mouth shut and know where your place is before I forget myself!"
Henry had shaken her slightly with each word to express his anger. When he let go of her, Catherine staggered. She was still ashen-faced, Henry himself trembling with anger. The air around them seemed to crackle now that his rage had been unleashed with full force. Catherine grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling and looked at him, slightly distraught. Her look was a strange mixture of fear and anger. She took a breath, almost seeming to want to say something else to him. Henry clenched his hands into fists and saw her register the movement. Apparently, this was enough of a silent warning and Catherine turned away to leave the room. Henry was still seething with anger but let her go.
He heard her footsteps fade away and leaned against the edge of his desk. His fingers still trembled as he lifted the wine-filled goblet to his lips and drank in great gulps. His breathing was heavy and slowly the anger ebbed; his thoughts cleared. Henry decided to distract himself and set the goblet down to seek out Diane in her chamber.
Loud female voices and a sharp scream rang out from the corridors. Henry winced briefly but then dismissed the noise as unimportant. Someone was constantly shrieking, whether it was due to a rat, a quarrel, a spilled goblet of wine. Henry left his chamber and wandered along the corridors. At the foot of the grand staircase leading to Catherine's and Diane's chambers and the children's rooms, a small cluster of people had formed. "It's the queen!"
"She fell!" Excited murmurs rose and Henry took in the scraps of words from the nobles with a frown. Catherine? He made his way through the crowd and was startled to see Catherine lying pale on the ground. What had happened? Had she actually fallen? "Bring Nostradamus!" he instructed no one in particular, not noticing how his own voice trembled slightly. Dark red blood oozed from under Catherine's head, and it was as if Henry had had a bucket of ice-cold water emptied over his head. Finally, footsteps approached. Henry retreated again - by God, as much as he cursed his wife, he had not wanted this.