The time spent away, while not unenjoyable, was perhaps bittersweet. As the weeks passed I realised that the longer I was away, the more anxious I found myself becoming at the thought of returning to court. Catherine and I had never spent so much time apart since my arrival and I felt her absence like a longing in my soul. We hadn't even seen - let alone spoken to - each other since the wedding night and the distance created a deafening silence. Though not for my lack of trying. I wrote to her regularly, messages enclosed in decoys sent via Bash, but heard nothing back. This lapse of communication was not something I was accustomed to and it made me fear what events might be taking place in my absence. What I might be returning to.

Letters received from Bash did not reveal much, despite my efforts of encouragement. William, bless his heart, tried to reassure me but it was useless. I was also battling with myself, my approach to our marriage and I couldn't shake off the feeling of my earlier words to him. It was no good pretending we did not still face difficult hurdles in our future; each day that passed of my being away, every moment shared, could result in a hurt that would not be easily mended.

In addition to this, I couldn't help but wonder about life back at court. Was Henry being civil? Cruel? Was the break from the constant stress of our relationships risk-taking, providing a much-needed relief for Catherine? Was she able to just push aside the presence of my existence from her mind, as though I ceased to exist? We had been away for weeks and anything can happen with a simple snap of the King's fingers, or the twitch of a dagger. I had no way of knowing what nightmares she was dealing with and perhaps it wasn't surprising if she didn't want to confide in me at this particular moment in time.

These thoughts spun through my head, over and over until I would spiral into a state of desperation and self-doubt. As much as I struggled with it all, I had no choice in the matter. All I could do, it seemed, was wait.

Not that Catherine was faring much better herself. In truth, while we had been away some weeks, life back at the castle did not prove to be any easier. Quite apart from the distress caused by our being separated from each other, my absence had not deterred Henry in his mind games over Catherine.

The relentless stress of it overwhelmed her at times. She found herself mulling over her life, what it had become and if there was, indeed, any way in which she could even hope to change it. Many sleepless nights were faced as a result, during which various options swam through her mind while she desperately tried to find one - any possibility - which she could cling to.

A life on the run wasn't an option, that much hadn't changed, certainly. The only love in her heart more powerful than that which she felt for Charity, was the love she held onto as a mother. Her fierce nature and the need to protect her children was the strongest instinct she carried inside her. She knew she had more than enough funds to disappear with Charity (should she need to) and escape to safety, if that were all she might have to consider. But her children were of the utmost importance and they must always come first. Abandoning them was simply not an option.

So what other choice did she have? She loved Charity with all her heart. The way her feelings had grown and taken hold of her so completely still astounded her, more often than she cared to admit (even to herself)... But her life was not her own. Not entirely. Not in any real sense, at least. Certainly not while Henry lived and they remained within his reach. Not content with having forced the decision of my marriage, he continued his reign of torment over her. Dangling continuous reminders as to who controlled the strings that held their safety, their lives constantly under his threat.

As though anyone was likely to forget what little respect he held for her. A fact that, having acquainted herself in a loving, caring relationship, was becoming increasingly more of a burden to carry.

Francis found himself trying to ease his mothers nerves on an almost daily basis, the efforts of which proved equally frustrating for her. He found her up late one night, pouring over documents for yet another of her holdings within Italy.

'I'm not familiar with this chateau.' he noted, studying the deeds.

'I don't tend to share the details - it's one of my secret bolt-holes.'

'And why the sudden interest in it now?' Francis asked with concern, but Catherine wouldn't meet his eyes. 'What are you planning?'

'Nothing yet.' She rescued the documents from his grasp, hiding them back in their place. 'I just need to consider all the possibilities. However ludicrous they might appear.'

'The possibility - to what end? Mother, would you really consider running away?'

'No. Maybe. I don't know!' she slammed her hands down on the desk in frustration. 'If we took your brothers with us, Charity and I could seek refuge in Italy. We'd be hidden there, and I have the funds to keep your brothers protected as well.'

Francis took the papers out of Catherine's reach and coaxed her into sitting down.

'Mother, this is insanity. You must see that. If you run, even with Charles and young Henry, Father would find you. He wouldn't rest until he did and then he'd have both yours and Charity's heads, without pause for argument. You know he would. Then all this would have been completely in vain, all efforts wasted and for nothing.'

Catherine was miserable but she knew Francis was right.

'I don't know what's got into me. I'm never usually this unhinged when things go wrong. I… I strategize and I plan and I manipulate and she-'

Francis smirked.

'I daresay none of us give Charity enough credit for what she contributes. She seems to have an instinct for calming any situation.'

'She grounds me. She never steps out of line but she's always helped me see things more clearly. My head is all over the place and it's a problem that has been noticed by others. I know none of these are viable options, but I just can't focus without her, Francis. I miss her.' Francis placed a comforting hand on his mothers arm.

'She'll be back soon enough.' He reminded her. She nodded sadly, accepting she could do no more than wait.

But then what? Could they continue to exist like this? Such questions went unasked because they all knew there was no safe answer. Without safety there was no certainty.

Meanwhile, with the end of the tour approaching and thus our return to court looming over us, I finally accepted we could put it off no longer. The time had come for William and I to sit down and discuss our situation.

We both knew we had to remain with his chambers. If we were to continue the charade of our marriage, as an effort to ensure my safety, there was simply no getting around that. All the same, it didn't mean I was comfortable ignoring the sacrifice on his part, either. Nor pretending that it sat well with me.

'It's hardly the ideal situation for you.' I told him. I felt compelled to make clear the unfairness of it was not lost on me.

'The concept of ideal is often an illusion.' William pointed out. 'But in this case, there's no alternative that Henry would consider acceptable. Not one that allows you to stay at court under the guise of a contented marriage, but still allows you to your freedom. You won't be kept from spending your time with Catherine.'

Even with his noble gesture, I could see what it took him to speak those words.

'It's the best way forward, for all concerned.' He assured me, forcing himself to meet my eyes. 'This assures us both some level of freedom.'

There was silence while an awkward pause passed between us.

'I just want to say again how grateful I am to you, William. This is all. It's more than I deserve.'

'Yes, well. Every man has to acknowledge, there are some battles even we cannot win.' He rubbed his face in a seemingly tired gesture of defeat. 'Granted, I could put my foot down and force you to end the affair with Catherine. But then what? We live a marriage without contentment, friendship or any real chance of happiness? Because I suspect any such ultimatum would only serve to eliminate honesty completely. That may be standard for some, but it's not a condition I'm eager to live with.'

This slight towards Henry was not lost on me, but I couldn't allow myself to be deviated off-track.

'I meant what I said before we left. I don't want to hide behind excuses anymore.' I reached out for his hand. Once again showing his capacity for kindness, he allowed me to take hold of it. 'Going forward, we may decide to approach things differently, but I agreed to try and I failed at the first hurdle. Perhaps, had I been more honest with you about my feelings at the time, it might have helped.'

'I'm not so sure.' William shook his head. 'I have thought about it and I have come to realise we would never have avoided this for long. It was our wedding night, the night meant to consummate marital relations, to commit oneself to your spouse. And you chose to share it with Catherine. The symbolism of that choice… it's significant and I'm not sure it's something we can get past. I'm not even sure we should try to.

Your heart is good and generous and pure, Charity. But it's no longer your own. You aren't able to control it and so it leads you. I knew it would and I'd hoped we would work together to overcome that. I just hadn't anticipated it starting with our wedding night.'

'It wasn't supposed to. I truly am sorry, William.' I whispered, completely ashamed of myself. 'I knew what was expected of me and I had prepared myself, but I panicked. I feel awful, but I swear, that was never my intention.'

'You may have prepared your head, but not your heart. Intentions are well and good but they'll never be enough if the will isn't equally as determined. And we both know your actions were led by your emotions.' William said as he joined me on the chaise. 'You felt you were cheating on Catherine, didn't you? That's why you couldn't go through with it.'

Just hearing it put into words so simply was rather overwhelming. I wiped the tears from my eyes, remembering how heavily the feeling of betrayal had weighed on my heart.

'I'm sorry, I just couldn't do it to her.'

And there we had it. My vows, my promises, my newly found determination to at least attempt to be the wife he was gracious enough to allow me to be… None of that mattered. I simply did not have it in me to be unfaithful to Catherine. Not anymore and perhaps never again.

Nevermind that I was ignoring the issue of who my loyalties were legally meant to lie with. But I forgave myself in the knowledge that I had always been, at the very least, open and honest with William about this.

It felt vital to have that consensus between us, especially in light of our return. I didn't need to communicate to him my worries for what I would be going back to. Even in this short time, he had come to know me well enough to understand such things: the insecurities I felt, the stability of what I shared with Catherine. Insecurities that ultimately stemmed from nothing more than simple paranoia and things being beyond my control. Moreover, if I was concerned Catherine would remember that she could live without me, I need not have worried. She was equally concerned (if not more so) that I would inevitably grow to care for Willian. Perhaps not enough to feel love, but enough certainly to feel uncomfortable with continuing to live the charade.

In the end, both our fears were proved to be unfounded, as witnessed in our emotional reunion. That moment when we at last came together, confirmed everything in our hearts still held true. All our doubts faded away, as easily as leaves taken in a cool breeze. We weren't naive, we knew we couldn't abandon caution, but we had to take each day as it came. Whatever would happen would happen and we would face it together. With the aid of Bash, Francis and, of course, my dear William, we returned to our normality.

I was flying high on a cloud up above. But I was about to come crashing down.