AN: Bonjour! Now, we must get into politics, and to do that we must delve into a bit of history. History tells us that after losing the opportunity to rule Milan, Genoa, and Naples, Francis would do absolutely anything to get them back. He drowned France in red ink and failed. Not to mention the bloodshed of thousands of men women and children. He also tried to gain the territory by forcing his son Henri into the marriage bed of Catherine de Medici, who's Uncle Pope Clement, (a crafty politician in his own right) promised the territory in her dowry. He died after the marriage but before the deal was completed. His successor had no intention of keeping that deal because he was allied to The Holy Roman Empire. Now, since our Danielle and Henri, are well into the beginning stages of Happily Ever After, we must add the Italian Flavor to this tale a different way.
AN2: Also, my unending thanks to M. L. Zhang for helping correct my French.
Translations: Le Grand Maître- The Grand Master.
Sì, Vostra Maestà (Italian)- Yes Your Majesty.
Le Dauphin de France- The Crown Prince of France.
Fils de France- Son of France, (reserved for only the sons, and Grandsons of the reigning monarch).
Infanta (Spanish) Daughter of the King. (Only the daughters of the King of Spain).
Petite-nièce grande- great-niece.
La famille de Lancrét- The de Lancret family.
Bonne Reine de France- Good Queen of France.
Monsieur le Dauphin- My Lord the Dauphin.
Le Grand Maître Anne de Montmorency peered down at the short, large-nosed ambassador from the Holy See of Rome never allowing his face to show his complete contempt for the sniveling toad of a man. In spite of his best efforts, another emotion stirred within his breast. This emotion he detested even more than the Holy Father's ambassador, the emotion of worry. When de Montmorency worried, it meant that his king meant to do something against his advice, and when the king did that de Montmorency entered a very foul mood. Right now, he had to be content while the Italian toad finished his threats cloaked in a sickening amount of groveling.
"Surely, Your Most Christian Majesty, would agree that the Holy Father's blood has been purified by God himself and therefore any of his family would be worthy to join any royal house in Christendom," Silvio Giovani di Mangano, ambassador to the royal court of France kept his voice pleasant and servile as he laid his trap.
He kept his head bowed before the French King, while watching his expression from raised eyes. He was careful not to smirk as fury flashed in King Francis' dark eyes. 'Sì, Vostra Maestà, I will not fail my master His Holiness, beware of how you tread,' he thought with carefully controlled venom. It disgusted him that anyone king or commoner dare negotiate on a marriage the Holy Father desired. Silvio lived each day remembering the moment when he met his beloved master outside the Basilica di San Pietro where he at six years old threw himself at the feet of the then Cardinal Giulio de Medici and begged to become his slave. The moment when the Cardinal lifted him from the ground, blessed him, and said 'Not my slave, my son, you will be my right hand with kings.' Now, standing before the King of France, Silvio could not let his beloved master down. Catherine de Medici would marry Le Dauphin de France.
The King sat growing more irritated at the Italian's attempt to imply that he would dishonor His Holiness, and accept the marriage offer as an act of contrition. He wanted the de Medici dowry, which would now include his beloved Milan, Naples, and Genoa, cities he had always regarded as the birthright of himself and his heirs. However, he would not be treated as some errant sinner who needed to prove his devotion to God and Church by capitulating to the marriage of his heir merely to satisfy the Pope's ambitions for his kin. "We humbly acknowledge that whomever the Heavenly Father calls to himself by means of his Grace and the Holy Ghost, to be purified by him. For We also have been called by Him and anointed with holy oil to rule Our kingdom in his name. However, while Almighty God has graciously bestowed this calling upon Us and Our heirs, We are unsure that he has purified the chaste and virtuous blood of His Holiness' niece to the extent that she is now also of Our royal color."
Wary of pushing too far and offending the shrewd monarch outright, Silvio saw the need of a strategic retreat. "Of course, Your Majesty speaks truth and justice in all things. This is why His Holiness would not dare to entrust his most precious and beloved of kin into any other hands than those of your most Christian and beloved son. With your most gracious permission, I shall withdraw now and await your final word."
"We grant Our permission, and once again thank Our Holy Father for the honor he has bestowed on Our son, and Our kingdom in offering the hand of his most virtuous niece as a perspective bride to Our unworthy son," Francis answered, wanting nothing more than for the man to be out of his sight. Thankfully, the ambassador did not tarry and the King found himself quite alone with his most trusted counselor once more. "What say you, Anne," he asked, stressing the proper pronunciation of 'Annay' that prevented any mockery of the unusual name from insult by his dear friend's rivals in court.
The Grand Master of the court stood before his king ready to give the same opinion he'd been offering ever since the Pope had proposed the match. "I am sorry to say that my answer has not changed Your Majesty," he answered in his rough deep voice. "While I acknowledge and accept the role of the Holy Father as the Almighty's representative in his earthly realm, his niece has no place in the royal house of Valois! Our Dauphin cannot possibly share his throne with a daughter of merchants who have purchased every scrap of dignity they possess."
Francis frowned. "Even if that daughter brings with her those Italian cities that are Ours by right of birth?" he asked with a voice of rolling thunder.
Sympathy filled the usually hard and brusque de Montmorency's eyes. "Sire, very few people besides myself know just how deep a wound the Italian Wars have left in your heart. I would give anything to present those cities so unjustly taken from you on a dish of gold. However, I do not believe that the Holy Father will keep his promises. Even if he wishes to do so, he might not have a say in the matter."
"Speak clearly, Anne," commanded the king.
"Your Majesty, you know well that the Holy Father is in ill health and advanced in years, but he is still shifty and shrewd. No doubt, he will first demand that the cities will come into our possession after le Dauphin is properly married and the marriage is consummated. Once that has been achieved, he will insist on waiting until their first child is born, and after that, if the child is not a boy, he will bid us wait until a son is born. On and on it will continue until he finally departs from this world. His successor will no doubt refuse to honor the marriage contract, and the girl will have come to us with common blood in her veins and the clothes on her back!" Montmorency stated bluntly. It hurt him to disillusion his king about regaining a foothold in Italy, but he would not, he could not stand by at watch a de Medici sit on the throne of France.
Francis sighed and although he made it a habit for elegance in all things, he found himself rubbing his eyes in frustration. "You speak well, Anne," he admitted. "Clement is just slippery enough to do exactly as you speak. However, consider this… it could be the only chance we have of getting Italy back? Would it not be a great thing to wipe away the stain of Pavia and make my sons' captivity not in vain?"
"That only God himself can answer, Your Majesty. However, if this is a mirage and the cities don't come with the girl, wouldn't it be shackling your son into a worse prison from which the only escape would be death?" de Montmorency, answered.
"Humph," Francis coughed. "The boy could have as many women he chose for pleasure and happiness."
The Grand Master carefully concealed his displeasure at the king's callous attitude towards his only living son's marriage, but he could not expect better of him. Although the King had great respect and a form of affection for his supportive and intelligent Queen, he could not remain faithful to any woman, and even in his middle age dozens of woman still filed in and out of his chambers. He simply could not understand a temperament like the Dauphin's who could never find pleasure or happiness in that way. "I highly doubt that Le Dauphin would be amiable to such reasoning, should you decide to accept the Holy Father's offer, Your Majesty."
A loud burst of laughter burst forth from Francis' chest. "Anne, the boy would probably threaten to slit my throat now that he's brought that girl from the masque back here. I cannot see how I can sanction his marriage to a servant, but I am willing to hear him out this once. Whoever this bit of muslin is, she's changed him. I can't think of a time I've ever seen the boy care about anything other than defying me. Now, I hear he spends his nights pouring over reports. He wants to build a University with the largest library on the continent where all people can study regardless of station. I've even heard tell he's contacted the Franciscans to start translating their most valuable works into French. He's finally acting like a Fils de France! If this girl be the cause, I owe her something. I will give him a chance to prove she is worthy to become his wife."
The worry that had festered in de Montmorency's breast over the last hour began to dissipate. If the Dauphin and the Queen received the information he'd given his young cousin, then nothing could prevent his Dauphin's marriage to the lady of his choice. He only wished that he'd been able to do more for his late friend's daughter, as it was, he dreaded explaining to the poor girl how he came to know what she was and why he had not helped her. "Your Majesty, I believe the Queen and the Dauphin are awaiting you in the throne room to discuss that very subject."
"Let us not tarry any longer, my friend!" Francis encouraged, rising from his seat. "To tell the truth, I'm looking forward to this. I'm curious to see if my son stand his ground this time."
A grin broke out on the Grand Master's stern visage. "I think, Your Majesty, that the dear Dauphin will exceed all expectations."
Francis couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on his old friend's face. He'd come to realize it meant that Montmorency knew he would win. "What do you know that I do not, Anne? You're wearing the same grin when you left me with the bill at that brothel in Genoa, and you only ate and drank!"
"The wine was more expensive than the women, Your Majesty, and I saw none that suited my tastes," Montmorency answered. "Alas, my Gracious King, I fear of the two of us you will be the one surprised by the girl your son has chosen."
Something in Montmorency's tone made Frances stop and his levity vanish. "We repeat, de Montmorency, 'what do you know that We do not?' Despite Our amusement due to La Infanta Gabriella's running away with a cleric, the future of France depends on Our son's marriage. If you have any information about this girl he has chosen, make it known to Us at once!" he demanded.
Anne de Montmorency suppressed a shudder at hearing his dear friend and king use the Royal We in a personal conversation. He sighed deeply and spoke in a soft, pained voice. "Your Majesty, all I can tell you is this… until Le Dauphin came for your permission to rescue the young lady from Le Pieu, I understood that Danielle de Barbarac had entered a convent two years after her father's death."
"You know this girl!" Francis exclaimed in shock.
The Grand Master shook his head. "No, I never had the pleasure of meeting her. I knew her father, my King, and had I known that the Baroness de Ghent was capable of such treachery, I would have torn Europe apart trying to find and protect his precious daughter."
"How do you know this de Barbarac? Baroness de Ghent exposed the girl as a servant at the masque! The child confessed it was the truth!" Francis interrogated.
Unintimidated by his Liege's harsh tone, de Montmorency's mouth set itself in a hard line. "Your Majesty, no doubt remembers that I was ill that night of the masque so I cannot account for what happened. However, I will swear before Almighty God and on the grave of your beloved son the former Dauphin that the poor child has no idea what she really is!"
The Grand Master's words shook the King to his core. "Who is she, Anne?" he asked in a raspy voice.
Anne sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "With your permission, Your Majesty, I wish to explain what I know in the presence of the Queen, and le Dauphin. I fear what I have to say will affect them even more than the truth will affect the country."
"Very well, my friend, let us move on."
The King and the Grand Master entered the throne room without announcement, but Henri bowed to his father properly for the first time since leaving for Spain. "Father, there is much to inform you of."
"So I see," the King replied, as he sat at the table. "Well then, let's begin."
Thanks to the time Henri and Marie had used to gather and present the new information regarding Danielle, the report to the King took very little time. The King sat gravely still not speaking, nor did his normally expressive face give any indications of his thoughts and feelings. Both Henri and the Queen grew more afraid as minutes that seemed to span eternities passed. Finally, avoiding any notice of his wife or his son, he addressed his old friend. "Tell me how you came to know about de Bourbon's heir. How could he keep a living, legitimate child secret from the Crown, and even from his own mother-in-law? TELL ME HOW!" he roared in a rage that caused the queen to tremble and her son to rush to her side.
"Father," he pleaded, trying to keep his voice calm and his tone respectful. "Isn't more important that Danielle is the great-granddaughter of two Princesses of France? Isn't it more important that she's the petite-nièce grande of your wife? Surely, the concealment of Nicole de Lancret can't matter now. She and her father are long dead."
Francis' face flushed scarlet red with rage, and he threw the copy of La famille de Lancret at his aghast son. "How do you know what's important? You've been a nasty, stupid, sullen, selfish boy since the day you were born! I wish to God you had died instead of your dear brothers. They were sons a man could be proud of. You bring me nothing but grief."
"STOP!" the Queen shouted, causing everyone to stare at her in stunned amazement. Tears streamed down her pale face as she trembled, but her eyes flashed fury and grief. "Grand Master Montmorency, Henri, please leave the King and I alone."
Both men said nothing as the bowed formally and took their leave. As the entered the antechamber, Henri turned to his father's most trusted advisor. "I have never heard my mother raise her voice, Monsieur Le Grand Maître. Even when the late Queen Mother announced that my brother the late Dauphin de France and I were to leave as hostages in Spain, she never once raised her voice. I confess I feel afraid for her now."
The older man's sharp and narrow eyes did not soften, but held deep compassion for his young prince. "His Majesty, Your Highness' most honored father would never bring harm to the virtuous and adored Bonne Reine de France your mother," he assured.
"Of course not," Henri scoffed with contempt. "He'll just keep flinging his never ending parade of bed companions and that harlot Anne d'Heilly in front of her face!" he spat out.
Montmorency, could not and would not blacken the honor of his sovereign, nor could he deny the truth that the king did indeed flaunt his conquests to the world. "While what Your Highness has said does have merit, you also must acknowledge that whatever his pleasures, the King your father has always treated the Queen with every respect and courtesy due her."
"If you mean he upholds her position as his Consort and maintains every proper protocol to her as a Lady, then yes, I acknowledge that. However, he has given no respect to her as a woman!" Henri growled. "Danielle will be my wife, de Montmorency, and the world will know not only the meaning of true chivalry, but the true meaning of the sacrament of marriage between a man and woman as sanctified by Almighty God."
"I will be by your side to make that happen Monsieur Le Dauphin," de Montmorency assured. "His Majesty is letting his obsession with the prospect of regaining the Italian territories blind him to the fact that it will be impossible for His Holiness to keep his promises. For the moment, take comfort in the fact that Your Queen and mother is fighting for your cause, and wait."