Chapter 47
Thank you all for your patience and understanding! I really hope you all enjoy this Chapter and the contents within. There will be happy and sad moments. If you have any questions, please send me a private message. Please Read and Review and Enjoy Chapter 47!
5 July 1556
Hampton Court, England
The Royal Gardens
Prince William was walking in the gardens, admiring the warm cloudy day. He was happy that his family was together, however he was also thinking heavily. William was now twenty-four years old and he was not due to marry for another two years. He was actually excited. Now that Queen Mary of Scotland was a teenager, their marriage seemed more realistic. Soon, he would be King of Scotland, albeit by marriage.
"Two more years and finally I'll know the touch of a woman." he thought to himself.
William was also frustrated that most of his friends had known a woman and some even had families, but he had a later start. Even his younger sister, Princess Matilda of Sweden, was married and the mother of three small children at just twenty-one years old. Part of him was jealous of his younger sister, although he greatly loved her.
Suddenly, he bumped into a red-haired young woman. He caught her, before she could fall.
It was his cousin, Lady Elizabeth Fitzroy, the eldest child of his illegitimate Uncle.
Lady Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment.
"Your Highness, please forgive me. I was reading and I must have not been paying attention to my surroundings." she said.
William smiled.
"No, the fault is all mine, Lady Fitzroy." he said.
Lady Elizabeth smiled back at her cousin.
"Thank you, Your Highness. May I ask why you are still at Court? You are hardly here." she said.
William nodded, as they began to walk together.
"I know. I'm here, because I was my father's representative for Lord Cavendish's funeral." he said.
Lady Elizabeth nodded. Hi
"I remember now. That poor Spanish Princess. She traveled so far to be married, only to have the man die days before the wedding. What will become of her?" she asked.
William sighed.
"I'm not sure. However she's wealthy enough, but I think she's too valuable to just return to Spain." he said.
Lady Elizabeth was looking at William as he talked. She had to admit that the Prince of Wales was very attractive, but she would never fall to scandal and he was promised to the Scots Queen. She knew he wasn't her destiny.
16 July 1556
Cyprus
"The palace is just moments away, your Highness," the driver called back to the occupants of the carriage.
Princess Christina of Naples sat back and sighed. She had only ever met the King of Cyprus once, when they were both children and her parents had welcomed his family to court. She was six, he was five at the time. She remembered a small boy with blondish-colored hair and bright green eyes. They weren't aware of it at the time, but that was the day their betrothal was signed by their fathers, sealing the fate of their respective nations, and despite the fact that Christina had been raised knowing that she would become Queen Consort of Cyprus when she was older, her nerves had gotten the best of her several times during the long trip to her new home. Today, she would come face to face with her future, and in ten days, she would be his wife, both formally and legally.
The Princess had to admit that her new home was beautiful. The seaport where they had docked was not like the ports in Italy. It was not packed with merchants, but rather was located in a seaside village that was clearly home to some of the more well-to-do citizens of the small island nation. The markets were located outside of the residential areas and had held some of the most amazing cloth she had ever seen, not to mention the wealth of other goods being sold. The day long drive from the port revealed more of the countryside, which seemed to be productive and well maintained. She had heard stories of Janius' father, the late King John III of Cyprus being an efficient ruler who looked after his people at all times, but she was not prepared for the richness she saw. Surely there were poorer people in Cyprus, just as there were in Naples.
She was accompanied to her new home by two ladies who would remain with her until they found husbands of their own in Cyprus, as well as her mother's most trusted advisor and her own personal chaplain. King Janius I, her future husband, had sent word for her to bring only a small party of her own attendants, as new ones would be provided for her by the court. She had been met by her driver, the driver of the other carriage, carrying the bishop and her mother's advisor, and a company of twelve guards. Her own guards were instructed to return to Naples on the ship with the promise that the Princess would be safe in the company of the King's men. She remembered feeling uneasy by this, but as Janius was her future husband, she obeyed and dismissed her Italian soldiers to return home.
"The palace will be on your left, your Highness," the driver called out, signaling that they were approaching her new home. She eagerly moved to the window on her left side so she could watch it as it came into view. When the carriage rounded the bend in the road, she heard the trumpets begin their fanfare and saw a gathering of people on both sides of the road, all of which were waving at the entourage. The driver stopped in front of the palace doors and climbed down from the seat, placing a foot stool under the doors for her, then opening the door to the coach. She heard the herald announce, "Her Royal Highness, the Princess Christina of Naples!"
The castle steward clapped his hands, and a footman appeared to offer her his hand as she stepped from the carriage. She took it and made her way down the steps that had been placed on the ground beneath her, then surveyed the people in front of her, who were standing on either side of the palace doors, looking at her. She then heard more fanfare and the herald announce, "His Majesty, King Janius, and her Majesty, the Queen Mother, Rebecca." The doors of the castle opened and out walked a young man about her age accompanied by an older woman who was somewhat younger than the Princess's own mother. As he approached her, she curtsied and waited for his approval to rise, which he gave quickly, offering her his hand.
"It has been some time since we last saw each other your Highness," the King said, "but I remember you as a child when we visited Naples."
Christina blushed and smiled. "I remember you too, your Majesty."
"If it is agreeable, and as we are to be wed in just ten days, please, call me Janius," the King said.
Christina nodded, "As you wish, Janius. You may call me Christina." He smiled at her again and nodded. Christina thought he had a brilliant smile that could charm even the harshest of subjects, and despite his formalities, she could see a mischievous sparkle in his green eyes, which made her smile as well.
"Shall we?" he asked, nodding towards the palace doors.
She nodded and allowed him to lead her inside, with his mother following close behind. Once inside the palace, he began to speak, "Although we are to be married in only ten days, we will not be permitted to spend time alone until our formal betrothal is completed in the morning. Then we will be able to go about the grounds alone, as if we were already wed."
Christina looked at his mother and nodded. She had been made aware of the formal betrothal that would happen soon after her arrival, which would more or less make her Janius' wife from that point forward. There was no backing out after that ceremony was complete, but she had also been told that she would have a short amount of time to decide if she wanted to become Cyprus' Queen before that would take place. She also knew a bit about the political status of women in Cyprus, which was more relaxed than on the continent. Women here were allowed to vote in local elections, as well as retain their own property and money, separate from their husbands. It was a custom they had had since ancient times when the Greek's had occupied Egypt. Her new nation was different from Naples, but she had no doubt that she would become used to the concepts they valued.
"Come," Janius said. "Let me show you to your rooms for the next ten days." They walked silently down a great hallway until they reached the double doors at the end. The guards outside the doors opened them, revealing a well-decorated sitting room with a great window along the outer wall. "We've placed some books over there on the desk that you might want to read during your spare time. Some of them discuss the history of Cyprus as a nation, and others are about our political system. There are also a few on local customs and our religious practices." Christina looked at him with some confusion, and he immediately picked up on that. "We are Catholic, but there are a few local traditions that are still practiced, which slightly vary from the mainstay of the church. Our practices for lent, for example, are not as strict as Rome would like, but they make no quarrel with it because we pay more than our share of tithes." Christina nodded and made a mental note to read those books first. She did not want to offend the people who would be looking to her for guidance as their Queen.
Janius turned to the right and motioned to the doorway that was draped with fabric. "Through there is your bedchamber until we are formally married, then your rooms will adjoin mine and your belongings will be moved." Christina had been told already by the ambassadors that in Cyprus the Queen's room were next to the King's, with only a private receiving room between them. This was not something she was used to, but she had no objection to the arrangement. Janius then pointed to the other curtain on the left wall of the room. "That room holds four beds for your ladies; the two you have brought with you and the two that my mother has chosen from among our ladies here at court." Christina's ladies looked at their mistress, who nodded, and they went to see where they would live for the next ten days, leaving only Janius, Christina, and his mother in the main sitting room.
Janius turned to her and took her hand in his, kissing it softly. "I will leave you now to unpack and to get to know my mother, who will undoubtedly become a source of guidance for you until you are more settled here. I will return in a couple of hours, and we will spend the afternoon talking and getting to know each other. I am keen to share several of my personal interests with you, and in turn, I hope you will share some of yours with me. I know we will have the rest of our lives to get to know one another, but I would like to know more about you before our betrothal in the morning, and I hope that you will still agree to become my wife once you learn more about me."
Christina nodded, "That is my wish as well."
Janius smiled at her, bowed, then left the room. Christina looked at his mother and smiled hopefully at the Dowager Queen of Cyprus, who returned the gesture with understanding. It was a small start, but it seemed to be a good one, which gave Princess Christina great hope for the future.
20 July 1556
Austria
The Archduke of Austria, Ferdinand, sat in his office looking over some papers for the construction of a new cathedral near the Hungarian border. The plans were magnificent, of that there was no doubt, but the cost would be great, and he was unsure if he could make the funding demands available. Silently, he looked to the heavens and prayed for a sign from God to show him if building such a place would be right for his people. He was startled by the doors to his office opening, and his daughter-in-law, the Archduchess Isabella, running into the room.
"Daughter?" He questioned.
"Forgive me, your Grace," the younger woman said, trying to catch her breath. She had just been churched from giving birth to her youngest daughter, Christina, in May, and was not fully recovered, as the labor had been a difficult one. "I was told to bring you to your wife's bedchambers. The Archduchess has fainted."
The pair rushed out of the office and down the corridor to the rooms that had been given to Ferdinand's second wife, Anna, former Princess of Denmark and Norway, now Archduchess of Austria. They found her lying on the bed, one of her ladies giving her smelling salts to rouse her. Ferdinand noticed the physician in the corner of the room, wondering what was wrong. The older man walked slowly over to him, knowing the Archduke would want answers.
"What happened?" Ferdinand asked.
"I was summoned to her Grace's chambers early this morning by her lady," the physician said. "I was told that the Archduchess had not been able to keep any food down for several days and was growing weaker from the consistent vomiting, your Grace. I completed an examination, but could not find any fever or lingering illness, so I questioned her on feminine issues. When she told me that her courses had not come for nearly four months, I was fairly sure I had my answer, and upon further examination, I was proven correct."
Ferdinand, not thinking, stared at the man for a few moments before nearly shouting, "And what was that answer, doctor?"
"Your Grace," his daughter-in-law interrupted, "her highness is waking."
Ferdinand rushed to his wife's bedside, kneeling down beside the bed and taking her hand in his, kissing it gently as she woke. "Ferdinand?" she questioned, not expecting to see her husband beside her.
"Yes, my love," he replied softly. "How are you feeling? I was just told you have been ill."
Anna shook her head. "Apparently it is not an illness, husband," she told him.
"Not an illness?" he asked, still not putting the pieces together. "What in the world is keeping you from holding down a meal?" There was silence in the room, and suddenly, it dawned on the older man. "Anna, are you telling me. . . I mean, are you. . . are we. . ."
She nodded slowly, wondering what his reaction would be. She knew he considered his family complete, after all, he had fifteen children with his late wife before they married, though only twelve of them still lived. She hoped this news would not anger him.
The physician spoke up then, sensing the Archduchess was too weak for words at this point. "Her Grace will be brought to childbed in the early part of the year, God willing."
Ferdinand closed his eyes for a moment. He never would have thought that he would become a father again at his age, but here it was, in front of him. He couldn't have been happier, or more frightened at the news. What if something happened to him before the child was born. He would have to alter his will to include the child and Anna now. It was something he had intended to do, and his eldest son and heir knew his wishes just in case, but it would have to be made formal with the news that there would be another child.
"Husband?" He heard his wife question. He opened his eyes to meet hers and saw her fear.
"Darling, I could not be happier at the news, both that you are not ill and that we will have a little one together," Ferdinand said, not daring to delay for a more eloquent explanation of his stalling. He saw her smile and knew he had made the right choice to just blurt that out.
"I was afraid. . . I know you considered your family complete." She stammered.
"Do not fear," he said. "It was only a mixture of shock and relief that you are not sick."
"Your Grace," the physician interrupted, "we should leave her highness to rest now. She has had quite a shock herself."
Ferdinand looked at the older man and nodded. "I will return this evening Anna," he said, kissing her hand once more. She smiled at him and closed her eyes, as the rest of her guests left her bedchambers.
Outside, once the doors had closed, Ferdinand leaned up against the wall and rubbed his hands against his face. Isabella noticed his stress and put a hand on her father-in-law's shoulders. "Are you okay, Father?" she asked.
"Of course," he answered, coming about quickly. "I just never expected. . .," his voice trailed off. Isabella nodded. She understood. He was not a young man anymore, and now, he was going to have another newborn in the house, but she also knew that her husband's father was a man of strength who took a lot of pride in his family and would rejoice completely in this news once it had sank into his reality. She watched as he walked back down towards his office, not knowing what he was thinking, but knowing that he would be alright in a few days.
He would be just fine. As he walked away, he remembered asking God for a sign. He could think of no better one than this. God had granted him a miracle, so he would grant one to his people. The cathedral would be built in honor of his coming child.
26 July 1556
Cyprus
The chapel at the palace of Cyprus was splendidly decorated for the occasion of a Royal wedding. It wasn't every day that the sixteen-year-old King of a nation got married to an Italian Princess, much less one as beautiful as Princess Christina of Naples. Her hair held the texture of corn silk and was a magnificent dark auburn, which she wore lose, cascading down her back, to symbolize her virginity, which she had to prove by having a midwife examine her the day after she had arrived on the small island nation. At least that happened in private, though, and she was glad of it. She knew that tonight, after the reception, she and Janius would be watched as they consummated their marriage for the first time. Her mother had prepared her for the act, but words could only do so much.
She and Janius had been formally betrothed in a ceremony after the midwife's exam took place, so that should they take their relationship too far before today, they were already officially married, but she had managed to refuse to lay with him so far. She told him that she wanted to make certain that they were indeed man and wife before the eyes of God in every way before progressing to that level of commitment. That didn't stop the young teenagers from kissing each other, nor did it stop Janius from touching her in places that he probably shouldn't have until their actual wedding day. She had to admit that she loved the feel of his touch, but she also had to admit that the idea of making love to him for the first time under the eye of three priests, his mother, and two of the married ladies from the court had her nerves tied in knots. This was on her mind when the Dowager Queen of Cyprus came to tell her it was time for the ceremony to begin.
Princess Christina nodded and straightened her dress as she stood up. She crossed herself, then followed the Dowager Queen to the entrance of the chapel, where the doors were closed, awaiting her arrival. There would be no music, as the church in Cyprus did not allow it. She would walk down the long aisle, with her ladies carrying her train, to silence, meeting Janius at the altar, where they would kneel before the priest and recite their vows. At least he was smiling at her the whole time she walked towards him. That calmed her somewhat. Even though she knew that the weren't exactly in love with each other yet, she did have feelings for the handsome young King, and she knew that he felt something more than friendship for her.
After the prayers were over and they had made their vows to God and to each other, they stood and faced one another. Janius placed a ring on her finger. It was heavy, and when she looked down at it, she smiled. The ruby in her ring was known to her. It had been her grandmother's ruby in the ring presented to her at her coronation as Queen of Naples, but the setting was different, and next to it, was a yellow gem that she did not recognize. Janius recited the words that the priest had said, then slid it onto her finger, whispering, "The ruby was your grandmother's. The Citrine was my grandmother's. Together, they are Naples and Cyprus combined. I will tell you more later." Christina looked into his eyes, smiled, and nodded slightly so that only he could see.
Once the priest had concluded the additional prayers, she and Janius turned to the crowd and walked back down the aisle of the chapel as husband and wife.
28 July 1556
Hampton Court, England
Queen Anne of England's Bedchamber
Queen Anne was laying in her bed, in slight pain. She had another attack and her physician had ordered her to bed, so she could recover. She was weak and was bored. She was in pain, but she was determined to be around her family as much.
Lady Mary Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk walked up to her Queen's bed and curtsied.
"Your Majesty, I'm sorry to disturb you, but the Spanish Princess is here to see you." she said.
Queen Anne smiled.
"You may send her in." she said weakly.
Lady Mary nodded and a few minutes later, Infanta Liliana walked in and curtsied to Anne.
"Your Majesty." she said.
Queen Anne smiled and told her to rise and to have a seat.
Infanta Liliana smiled at the older woman.
"Please forgive me intruding on your rest, Your Majesty, however I was concerned about your health." she said.
Queen Anne sighed.
"I just need to rest, however I am happy that you are here to keep me company. How are you feeling, my dear?" she asked.
Infanta Liliana smiled.
"I really do love the Court. Everyone has been very kind. However, I do miss Spain. I really do want marriage, however I miss my Father as well." she said.
Queen Anne touched the young Princess on the hand.
"You are young. Some handsome man will be your loving husband and you will have a wonderful life. I can assure you." she said.
Liliana smiled. She now had a renewed faith in her future.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." she said.
Queen Anne nodded her head, but then she grabbed her stomach and winced in pain.
Infanta Liliana stood up, in alarm.
"Your Majesty, are you alright?" she said.
Queen Anne nodded.
"I am fine. Please don't worry." she said.
Liliana sat again.
"You will recover, Your Majesty. I am sure of it."
Queen Anne sighed.
"Liliana, I am not going to get better. I already know that. I only hope that God will be merciful enough to let me live to get my affairs in order." she said.
Liliana gave Anne a sad look. The Queen was only forty years old and did not deserve to be departing life so soon. She prayed that God would heal her body and not take her from her family and England.
3 August 1556
Sweden
"My loyal subjects, today we are gathered to honor my son, Johan, who has proven himself to be a most loyal son and Prince of the realm. In a few months, he will marry the Archduchess Barbara Habsburg, and will take over the governance of Finland on my behalf, continuing our fair governance of such lands through law and reason. Today, we place our faith in Prince Johan and proudly issue the following titles upon him," King Gustav of Sweden began, as he addressed his subjects and the foreign dignitaries that were invited to witness the ceremony. Prince Johan, or John as he was also known among his closest companions, stepped forward and knelt before his father.
King Gustav took the scroll that was held by his court scribe and unrolled it. "Johan Vasa, Prince of Sweden, it is with great honor that I create you Duke of Finland, and place upon you the trust and allegiance of this court to govern that fair land with justice and law. Do you solemnly swear to obey the laws of the realm in all that you do on our behalf? Do you give your word as a Prince of the Realm, here before your King and Almighty God, that you will live in accordance of our laws while abroad, and will swear allegiance to no other King? Do you promise to advise your King on any matters of nation importance while acting as our representative in Finland, and do you, on your conscience, swear to never take arms against the Kingdom that has put its faith in you?"
"I so solemnly swear," Prince Johan said, with his head bowed.
"It is also our pleasure to create you Lord of Kaleva, which will provide you with a substantial income for your coming marriage, along with the Dukedom of Finland, for which you will receive one-third of the taxes due by the Finnish people," King Gustav said. "Rise my Lord of Finland and Kaleva."
Prince Johan stood as commanded and received his letters patent from his father, to whom he bowed. Once the cornet of his nobility had been placed upon his head, the King announced, "Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I give you the Duke of Finland and Lord of Kaleva. All are welcome to stay to the celebration feast that follows." With that, the King clapped his hands three times and dismissed his subjects to mingle amongst themselves.
Later that night, King Gustav saw his daughter-in-law, Princess Matilda, talking with the Russian ambassadors, who had arrived two days prior in order to arrange new trade agreements with Sweden. He walked over to where they were standing, greeting his eldest son's wife with a customary kiss of her hand. "Your Majesty," Matilda said, "I believe you are acquainted with the ambassadors from Russia?"
"Yes, daughter," he responded, "I am. Gentlemen, it is good to see you both again."
The two men bowed to the King and smiled. "We were inquiring after the Crown Princess's young daughter, Princess Astrid. She is of the same age as our beloved Tsarevich, the heir to all the Russias, and we are interested in a marriage alliance, if agreeable terms can be arranged."
"A marriage between my granddaughter and the future Tsar of Russia?" King Gustav questioned. "It is something to think on, gentlemen. Submit your proposal to me before you leave. You will have my answer by the end of the year."
The ambassadors nodded, bowed, then went to speak to other guests of the court, leaving Gustav and Matilda to themselves.
"Did you promise them anything, daughter?" He questioned her gently, not wanting to startle the younger woman.
"No, nothing concerning the marriage itself, your Majesty," Matilda replied. "Only that I would relay their desire for a contract to your Grace."
"Very well," he responded. "Do you have any objections to the match? I hear that the young Dmitri is quite clever for his age and well behaved for a lad of four years."
"Not entirely, your Grace," Matilda said, not sure whether she should go on with the only request she had concerning the affair or not.
"But?" He gave her license to speak her mind.
"But," she said, "if it can be arranged, I would prefer to keep all of my daughters in Sweden with me until they are at least fifteen, and would rather they not marry until sixteen, if possible. I've seen too many women married younger, and I fear for their health and safety."
Gustav thought of what she said. He, too, had seen some problems come with earlier marriages. He was not eager to repeat those situations. "I will see what can be done along those lines," he promised.
"Thank you, your Majesty," Matilda said, curtsying to him. "By your leave, I would like to return to my rooms for the rest of the evening. The air in here has become rather stale." Gustav followed her gaze and saw his son, her husband, Crown Prince Eric, with the woman that he had taken as his mistress. Gustav understood her reluctance to stay and excused her, making a mental note to talk to his son about the appropriate times to accompany his mistress to a court gathering.
10 August 1556
Hampton Court, England
The Royal Gardens
Queen Anne was walking slowly in the Gardens with her ladies, Lady Mary Brandon and Lady Charlotte Howard, both cousins of her husband. Anne had regained some of her strength and wanted to spend time with her children and ladies.
Lady Mary Brandon walked up to her Queen.
"Your Majesty, are you well? We can always go back to your rooms." she said.
Queen Anne shook her head.
"No, I am fine. I want to enjoy this beautiful day. Are my children here in the gardens?" she asked.
Before the sisters could answer, six year old Princess Margaret ran and hugged her mother.
"Mama! I missed you." she said.
Anne hugged her youngest child, since she couldn't pick her up.
"My sweet Meg. I have missed you as well." she said.
Princess Margaret took her mother by the hand and led her to where her older siblings were.
Eighteen year old Prince Edward hugged his mother.
"Mother, I have missed you. I am glad we can spend time together today." he said.
Anne smiled at her second son. He was becoming a very handsome young man with his dark auburn hair, glowing blue eyes and fair skin. He was also the identical height of his late grandfather, King Henry VIII,being six feet two inches tall.
" I am glad to see you, my boy." she said.
Next, thirteen year old Princess Eleanor stepped forward and hugged her mother. She was turning into.a beautiful young woman, with fair skin, hazel eyes and dark , wavy auburn hair. She was also above average height as well.
"Mother, I am glad you are well..I was so worried." she said.
Anne caressed her second daughter's face.
"My sweet girl, thank you for your thoughts." she said.
Prince Owen, now seventeen years old, stepped forward. Unlike his older brothers and younger sisters, he possessed brown hair, but he did have blue eyes and he was not as fair skinned as his brother Edward. He was handsome, but more shy than charismatic William or friendly Edward.
"Mama, I prayed to God for you to get well. I am happy that he had answered me." he said.
Anne hugged her youngest son.
"Thank you for your prayers, sweet Owen. God will always listen to one of his angels." she said.
Owen blushed at his mother's compliment and stepped back.
Finally, Prince William stepped forward. Anne could hardly believe that her oldest child was now twenty-four years old. He was extremist handsome with reddish-brown hair, blue eyes and good complexion. Also tall like his grandfather, he was also athletic in his build.
William, forgetting decorum as the future King of England, hugged his mother and held her close.
"Don't do that again. I can't bear to lose you. I don't think I'd survive." he admitted.
Anne pulled away and looked at her grown son.
"William Tudor, you will go on, as it will be God's will when I draw my final breath. We all must have our sunset in life, but we will be reunited in Heaven at God's feet." she said ,sternly.
Before William could respond, Princess Margaret called out:
"Liliana!"
Everyone looked and saw the Spanish Princess walking towards them. She was exceptionally beautiful, a fact that was not missed by the three Tudor brothers. With her own dark auburn hair, blue-gray eyes and beautiful complexion, Infanta Liliana was the most beautiful woman at Court.
Margaret hugged her and Liliana smiled.
"Princess Margaret, it is wonderful to see you. To see all of you on this beautiful day." she said.
Queen Anne stepped forward.
"We are all going to have a picnic here in the Gardens. You must join us." she said.
Liliana shook her head head.
"No , I don't want to intrude. You barely get to see your children, Your Majesty " she said.
Little Margaret grabbed Liliana by her hand.
"Please come." she said.
Liliana, a lover of children and animals, couldn't say no.
"I'd be honored to attend." she said.
After that, little Margaret led Liliana to the food that was prepared and the older children gathered around Liliana, a she told them about Spain and her family.
As the stories went on, Queen Anne watched,with happiness written on her face. She knew that moments were like these were not common or even guaranteed. She didn't know if she would have another symptom or even survive the next attack. However, she was grateful for this one moment.
17 August 1556
Scotland
The thirteen-year-old Scottish Queen, Mary, sat at her writing desk reading a letter that had just arrived from England. It was from the Prince of Wales, William, her betrothed. Their marriage, when it happened, would unite the two nations and their eldest son would rule both countries, making the alliance a permanent one. Mary's grandmother, Dowager Queen Margaret, who was also her regent, was looking forward to the marriage taking place, but Mary was not. William was ten years older than she was and the idea of being married to a man that much her senior scared her. It wasn't that she thought that William would mistreat her, but she didn't know if they had enough in common to have a real marriage, not one just based on politics, and she wanted that.
Dearest Mary,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am sitting at the desk in my bedchambers writing this by candlelight before I sleep. I received your letter this past week and was glad to get it. It was a welcomed distraction to the events of court.
The Spanish Princess, Liliana, is indeed as exotic as you made her sound. You have such a way with words, my dear. Her clothing is not what we are accustomed to here, nor is it as warm as she probably should be, coming from a nation with a warmer climate. Mother took her in hand though and had several warmer dresses made for her. But she has suffered greatly. Her fiancée, Lord Cavendish, died only weeks before they were to wed, and though I do not think love had time to flourish between them, I do believe that they were fond of each other before his passing. His funeral was grand and most appropriate for a man of his standing. He even provided for her in his will, despite the fact that they were not yet wed. Father believes she will return to Spain at the end of this month.
I worry for my mother. She is not well. She tries to hide it from the King, but with each passing year, she seems to grow more and more frail.
In regard to your request, yes, I would love to spend time in Scotland once we are husband and wife. I have been told that Scotland in the spring is one of the most amazing sights one can behold on God's earth. Perhaps the spring after we are married, we can journey there together and see your homeland and our people.
I must close for now.
With my warmest regards,
William, Prince of Wales
Mary sat back and looked over the letter again. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the Spanish Princess who'd lost her fiancée so soon after arriving in England, but it was nice of the Duke to provide for her well-being regardless. She also felt sorry for William, worrying for his mother so much, but she could not remember her father's death, as she was a baby when he passed, and it is hard to imagine having something that was never known to begin with. She decided to reply to his latest letter, though she rarely did as soon as she had received it.
Dearest William,
I just received your letter. I am well, thank you. I hope you are the same.
Princess Lilianna will find her path eventually. We all do, though sometimes it is not the path that we imagine for ourselves at times. My grandmother has often told me that God determines what is right for us and what is not. It is only up to us how we handle those plans.
I was desperately sorry to hear that your mother is not well. She has my hopes and prayers for a speedy recovery. I will pray for you as well, dear William, in the hopes that God will give you the strength to endure the time it will take for her to be restored to you.
I am glad to hear that you want to come to Scotland with me once we are wed. I know my people will welcome you with open arms, as a sign of a peace that has been long wished for by both of our nations.
My prayers are with you,
Mary, Queen of Scotland
She placed the letter on the side of her desk and would send with a rider the following day. For now, she stood up and walked to her bed, where her garments for the day had been chosen for her. She sighed, thinking that one day, she would be able to choose her own clothing. For now, she dressed and went downstairs to join her grandmother for breakfast before the lessons of the day began.
7 September 1556
Hampton Court, England
Queen Anne of England's Bedchamber
King Harry of England was sitting with his ailing wife, once again. Queen Anne had taken ill at his forty-second birthday celebrations and was now bed-ridden. She had grown extremely weak and he was fearful once again. He wanted whatever ailment that was affecting Anne to leave her.
Suddenly, the door opened and Infanta Liliana walked in and upon seeing Harry, she immediately fell into a curtsy.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. I thought the Queen was alone. I just wanted to sit with her for awhile." she said.
Harry smiled.
"There's no need to apologize. Please have a seat." he said, as he offered a seat to his younger cousin.
Liliana smiled and took the seat.
Harry looked at his sleeping wife.
"Liliana, I will admit I hate seeing her like this. I feel so powerless." he said.
Liliana sighed.
"Your Majesty, I know it hurts. I barely remember my mother. I remember her illness. The entire Court prayed for her. I know Queen Anne will recover." she said.
Harry smiled.
"You remind me of my mother. She always said that God will bring no more on you than you can bear. I have to admit that I haven't had many problems in my nine years of being King of England." he said.
Liliana smiled.
"My grandmother, Queen Juana, would say the same thing. I remember that she and my mother were very constant in my life, especially when my father had to visit his other domains. I used to miss him and my grandmother would say that God will deliver and bring me through my pain." she said.
Harry chuckled to himself.
"My mother and your grandmother both had wisdom. Two very strong women. I detest anyone who says that a woman is only useful bearing children. Those two are examples." he said, with pride.
Liliana nodded.
"We should pray for Queen Anne. The Lord will deliver her through this pain." she said.
Harry nodded and the two began to pray for a safe recovery for Queen Anne.
19 September 1556
France
The crisp fall air surrounded the majestic countryside of the French court. Queen Catherine de Medici sat in the gardens of the palace, surrounded by her children and their nannies. Prince Francis, the heir to the French throne was reading next to one of the flower beds, under the shade of a tree. It was something he enjoyed doing when he wasn't engaged with whatever political activity his father deemed necessary at that time. Princess Elisabeth and Princess Claude were stitching on their samplers, though Elisabeth's skills in needlepoint where much more advanced, she loved to help her younger sisters with their work. Prince Charles and Prince Alexandre, who was more fondly known as Henry to the family, were playing with marbles close to where she sat. Then there were her babies, Princess Margaret who was four, Prince Hercule who was two, and her newborn twins who would be three months old in a week. Queen Catherine sighed as she thought about her twins. She loved the girls dearly, but their birth had cost her the chance of having more sons for France, and she still worried that her husband, King Henri II, would put her away, or worse.
Francis' future was secure, at last, or at least as secure as the future King could be at thirteen years old. He was betrothed to a beautiful Princess who would become his wife when she was sixteen. Together, God willing, they would make France more secure for future generations. Princess Elisabeth was betrothed to the Duke of York of England. He was the second son of the reigning King, but anything could happen, as King Henri himself was well aware, having been the second son of his father. Princess Claude was betrothed to the eldest son of the Duke of Guise, who controlled the largest army in France, next to the King's. She would provide an alliance between Francis and her husband so that if the need were to arise, Francis would command the bulk of France's military forces, preventing a coop. Her marriage to the de Guise boy would also secure a potential alliance with Scotland, which would keep England off their soil for another fifty years or so if all worked out. Prince Charles was young, but his betrothal to Princess Angela of Naples was a firm one. Catherine had saw to that herself in her promise to secure the young Princess's future herself with a palace in Florence that she owned upon their wedding day. It was a political move, but she had been determined that one of her sons would marry into a royal house in Italy. It was of strategic importance to Naples as well, as the palace was once part of their ancestral fortune until her grandfather had won it in a game of cards against one of the younger sons of the reigning King at the time. Her other children were not yet formally betrothed, but Henri had been discussing a Polish princess for Alexandre lately with the ambassadors, and ambassadors from France had been recently sent to Sweden to discuss a match between Margaret and the son of their Crown Prince, who may one day be King. Her youngest three were not yet allied in the marriage game yet, but she knew they soon would be, which saddened her, but gave her hope for their futures as well.
As she looked around the gardens, she noticed her eldest looking her way and smiled warmly at him. He closed his book and walked over to where she sat. "What's on your mind, my Lady Mother?" he asked.
"I was just thinking about your futures, all of you, and what glorious adventures may await you," she responded. Francis was more mature than his thirteen years would have normally seen, but Catherine always attributed that to his being the eldest and the heir to the throne of a nation. His rigorous training in all things political made him see the world differently from his siblings, but he also had a generous nature about him, often taking the blame for what the younger children did. Catherine knew he would make an excellent father one day, despite the fact that Henri was not much of a role model for him during his formative years.
"And what do you see for me, Mother?" he inquired.
"You will reign in France throughout your lifetime and bring the nation great peace, my darling boy," Catherine told him. He laughed at her remark, not chiding her, but instead finding it funny that she would consider his reign to be a peaceful one when so many of his father's advisors thought he was weak. She knew what he was laughing at though. "You are not weak, Francis. You are good, and you will be a just ruler when it is your time upon the throne." Francis just nodded.
"Do you think that I will find love with the Princess Joana?" He asked after several moments.
"I think that love is possible," his mother said. "That mostly depends on you and her highness. If you try to love her and find things that are good about her, then your marriage will at least be one based on friendship and admiration."
"What if I don't want admiration and friendship, mother?" Francis asked. "What if I want to experience true, honest love with someone?"
"If God has that in store for you, then He will send someone to fill that role in your life, Francis," she said. "It may not be your wife, but it will exist."
"I don't want a marriage like you have with Father," he told her. "I see what he does to you when Diane is around. I don't like it. I don't want to have that type of relationship with my wife. I want to love her and for her to love me."
This was an eye opener for Catherine. She did not realize that her children saw what her marriage to their father was like and made a mental note to inform Henri of what it was doing to them. "Then pray that God will send you a love that will be good for both you and France," she advised, "then leave it in His hands to know what is best."
Francis nodded and stood. He bowed to his mother and walked away, heading for the castle's chapel to do just that.
23 September 1556
Navarre
Yesterday had been a long day, and the night had proven even longer still. Lady Jeanne, Duchess of Lautrec, had felt the pains early in the morning as she dressed for the day, just to be back in her night things hours later when her waters broke. Her first child was on its way into the world, and it did not matter if its mother had plans with its father for a late fall picnic or not.
Lady Jeanne had not complained once about the pain, as many women do, and throughout the day, she tried to be as pleasant as possible to everyone helping her. The midwife who was summoned to attend the birth said that she'd never seen anything like it, but it only proved that women could be as strong as men, if not stronger, when it came to what they endured in their lives. It was a credit to the Duchess and her mother.
Her husband, Lord Alexandre, had waited impatiently outside her bedchambers until he could wait no longer, then he knocked. The door opened and the midwife told him what was going on. He almost fell to the floor but caught himself on the wall. He was not expecting the baby to come this day, but then again, who ever could guess when a baby would decide to come. He had not forced his wife to keep to her confinement; in fact, he had encouraged her to get outside at least once a day and get some fresh air. 'Perhaps that's why the child had decided to come, so they could experience the air in Navarre for themselves,' he laughed to himself and took a seat in the hallway outside of his wife's chambers to await news. He must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke to find the sun rising. He went to the door and knocked. Surely Jeanne had given birth by then.
The midwife's assistant answered the door, told him that the baby still had not come, and shut it again, looking as though she was perplexed that he had dared to interrupt. Alexandre sat back down, but within moments, he heard a newborn's cry and smiled. It took nearly half an hour before anyone came to tell him anything. It was then that he was allowed to see his wife and child for the first time since her labor had begun.
Alexandre walked into the room, which had been freshly cleaned, passing a woman carrying linens outside. He looked at the bed and saw his wife holding a tiny bundle. She looked up from the baby and saw him, motioning him over to her side. He sat on the edge of the bed, hoping not to cause her anymore discomfort. She handed their child to him, "It's a boy, Alexandre," she said.
"A son?" he questioned. "We have a son?"
Jeanne nodded. "Our future Duke of Lautrec."
"He so small," her husband replied.
Jeanne laughed. "Most babies are when they are first born, husband."
"I don't think I've ever held a newborn before," he admitted to her. "Am I doing it right?"
Jeanne nodded. "Just be sure to support his head. He cannot hold it up on his own yet."
Alexandre looked at the small baby in his arms. "What shall we call him?" They had avoided talking about baby names because they did not know what they were having, and they both knew that many infants didn't survive birth.
Jeanne looked at her son and said, "Albert. Let's name him Albert."
"Albert Dumane," Alexandre responded. "It has a nice ring to it. Albert it is then." The little boy opened his eyes and looked at his father. "I think he likes it."
Jeanne smiled, taking their son from his father and holding him close to her. It wasn't long before both Albert and Jeanne were both asleep, worn out from the events of the day. Alexandre kissed them both on the forehead and quietly left the room to inform the King, his best friend, that his son had been born and asking for a few weeks away from court to spend with his family. When he finished the letter and had it dispatched with a rider, he went to the rooms next door to his wife's and fell asleep on the bed, dreaming of the future.
12 October 1556
Hungary
"With this ring, I, thee, wed, and with all my worldly goods, I, thee, endow," King John of Hungary recited as he placed a band of gold encrusted with his family's coat of arms on the ring finger of the Archduchess Barbara Habsburg of Austria. He then bent to kiss the ring, as if she was the reigning monarch instead of himself. Barbara smiled at the man in front of her, who was almost her husband, save for the priest pronouncing it to be so, and the next few moments made that a reality as well. She was no longer just the supposed princess of a nation, but its Queen Consort in name, and in two weeks, after her planned coronation, in fact.
John and Barbara turned to their guests, the ministers of state, and the foreign dignitaries who had been invited to their wedding, then he offered her his arm and led her down the aisle into the reception hall of the palace, where they would receive everyone after being seated on their thrones. The reception hall had been transformed, as it often was in Hungary, to serve as a make-shift throne room for the King, and now his Queen. There was a more formal throne room at the other end of the palace, where the King received his people twice a month to hear about their complaints, ideas, and needs, but for larger state occasions such as this, the reception hall was better suited. The thrones had been moved into the room and placed on a swiftly constructed dais along the north wall of the room.
King John sat in his throne and then motioned Barbara to do the same, which she did. She was not entirely certain of the royal protocol for her new nation, as the ambassadors had simply told her that King John wanted to instruct her himself once she had arrived. She had been given some basic instructions for her behavior this day, with the promise that the King would arrange time with her daily to teach her court etiquette and the way Hungarians expected their Queen to conduct herself once her coronation was concluded. Until then, it was expected that she would make minor mistakes, and no one would hold it against her.
They greeted guest after guest and received a great many wedding presents, including ten bolts of the finest silk cloth from the King and Queen of France, a pair of white horses from the King and Queen of Naples, and a small chest of jewels from King Charles V of Spain, Holy Roman Emperor. The Pope had sent them a consecrated Bible for their chapel, as well, as well as the promise of a state visit within the coming months to bless their union personally.
Once the receiving line was gone, and the guests were all assembled, the King stood, thanking everyone for coming, and commanded the feast to begin. He offered Barbara his hand, which she took, and led her to the dance floor, where they led the first dance of the night, then he had servants gather plates for himself and his Queen, and they ate. Well after the sun had set over the palace of Hungary, the trumpets sounded, and King John led his Queen from the room to begin their wedding night. Much to the embarrassment of the seventeen year old Queen Consort of Hungary, the guests all clapped in unison as the couple left the feast, knowing what was coming for the newlyweds, but Barbara at least had the comfort of knowing that no one would witness this most intimate moment, as Hungary did not require a witnessed consummation, as many other nations in Europe did, after the issues arising from the late King Henry VIII of England and his failed attempt to annul his marriage to Katherine of Aragon.
14 October 1556
England
Lady Margaret Marlowe knew the moment her labor had begun. There was no pain at first, just her waters breaking in the middle of the dining hall as she stood to return to her bedchamber to rest. She was in her final month of her second pregnancy, and she knew the baby would come soon, but the midwife had estimated the birth around the first part of November, and it was only the middle of October. It worried her a little, but not too much. Midwives were sometimes a week or two off when it came to predicting the time of arrival for a baby.
She looked at her husband, Lord John, when it happened and nodded. He acted like a typical man who didn't know exactly what to do, despite it being their second child. She just smiled at him and told him it was time, asking that he send for the midwife. He rose from his seat and did just that, then returned to help his wife upstairs to her chambers, asking their chamber maid to sit with his wife until he got back with the midwife.
He went downstairs to wait. He tried to read a book until the woman arrived but found it difficult to concentrate. He didn't know why he was not able to focus. It wasn't like this was his first child, but after the fourth time of reading the same paragraph, he closed the book and began to pace the room. Not long after, the footman he had sent to bring the midwife to their home returned with the older woman in tow.
"Relax, my lord," the older woman said upon seeing him. "I know what to do. Your wife is upstairs I assume?"
"Yes," he answered.
"I'll go straight up," she replied, then vanished up the stairs. Several hours passed before he received any word, and then it was only the basics. His wife was fine, no baby yet, but soon. At around three the following morning, one of his wife's maids came downstairs, holding a tiny bundle. She approached him as he stared at her, handing him the baby she held in her arms. "Congratulations, sir," the young woman said, "you have a healthy son, and Lady Marlowe is doing fine. They are cleaning the room. Then you can go up."
He took his son from her, thanked her, and nodded, then peered down at the baby in his arms. "Hello, m'boy," he said. The baby opened his eyes and looked at his father. He did not cry, but instead, reached out his little hand, which Lord Marlowe took by holding out his finger for the youngster to grasp. "What shall we call you?" Lord Marlowe asked as if the baby could answer him.
Just then, the midwife came down the staircase and smiled when she saw the baby with his father. "We'd wondered where he'd gone off to," she joked. "His mother is upstairs awaiting your arrival, sir."
"Thank you for coming," Lord Marlowe said, handing the older woman a sack of coins for her services. "The kitchen staff has some treats made up for you to take to your family as well."
"Thank you," she replied. "I will fetch them before I take my leave of your household. Now, go see your wife."
Lord Marlowe nodded and walked slowly up the stairs, careful not to disturb his sleeping son. When he reached his wife's chambers, he opened the door and went inside, finding Margaret sitting up in bed with her head back on the pillows. She turned to him when she heard the door shut.
"Isn't he wonderful?" she asked.
He just nodded, sitting next to her on the bed. He handed their son to her. "Have you thought of a name yet?" He asked.
"I like the name Edmund," she replied, "but if you don't, I'm not set on it."
"Edmund is a fine name," Lord Marlowe told her.
"Edmund it is then," she confirmed. "Lord Edmund Marlowe." Lady Margaret kissed her sleeping son's head before drifting off herself. He was put into his cradle by his father that night, who was so proud to have a son, that he slept next to the boy until morning, with one hand in his cradle to make sure he was safe, and the other on the cross he wore under his shirt, silently thanking God that his wife was safe and their son was born alive and well.
27 October 1556
Hampton Court Palace, England
The Banquet Hall
King Harry and Queen Anne were watching the beautiful festival going on at Court. It was the annual Harvest Festival and everyone was at Court. Queen Anne had recovered enough to enjoy the sights, but she was too weak to dance or eat heavily like most of the other courtiers. She smiled at everyone who caught her glance. Everything was just so beautiful and this was her favorite time of year.
She's leaned over to King Harry.
"Everything looks beautiful, my love. We're surrounded by family and friends." she said.
Harry smiled.
"As we always should be. I know you like it when the children are here." he said, as he kissed her hand.
As King Harry looked around his Court, his eyes found Infanta Liliana. She was talking to the Spanish Ambassador, with a smile on her face. Harry had a huge amount of respect for the young Spanish Princess, who was not frivolous or evasive, like other foreign Princesses. Fluent in Spanish, English, French, Latin, and Greek, she was able to communicate with pretty much everyone at Court. Even Queen Anne herself couldn't do that. Despite being in England for twenty-five years, Anne wasn't the polyglot that Liliana was. She only knew English and German, her native tongue.
The dancing was starting again and Harry smiled as he saw Prince Edward started to dance with six year old old Princess Margaret. He picked his youngest sister up and twirled around with her. Prince Owen was dancing with Princess Eleanor.
Queen Anne looked at her husband.
"Harry, you can go dance. I'll be fine." she said.
Harry shook his head and took her hand again.
"I'm not leaving your side tonight." he said.
Anne smiled. Her husband was still young and athletic and they normally would be dancing with their other courtiers, but due to Anne's delicate health, she could no longer dance, despite being only forty-one years old.
Suddenly, Princess Margaret walked up to her parents. The six year old red-haired youngest child of Harry and Anne smiled at her father.
"Papa, will you dance with me?" she asked, with hopeful eyes.
Anne looked at her husband.
"Don't refuse. Go dance with our daughter. I'll be fine." she said.
Harry nodded and picked up his youngest daughter and began to dance with her. Anne smiled at the sight.
Lady Mary Brandon walked up to her Queen.
"Are you well, Your Majesty?" she asked.
Anne smiled and nodded.
"I am well. However, I think I better retire for the night. I feel pain coming on." she said.
Lady Mary nodded and helped Anne stand and they began to leave the Banquet Hall. Anne took another look around the hall, at her beloved Court, her friends, get children and her loving husband of twenty-five years.
Suddenly, Queen Anne felt intense pàin, worse than the pains of childbirth, rip through her body and she screamed in agony, before collapsing in Lady Mary Brandon's arms, which drew the attention of everyone.
"YOUR MAJESTY!" Lady Mary cried out.
The Guards rushed forward to assist their ailing Queen, but King Harry beat them to her and held his unconscious wife.
He developed tears in his eyes.
"Darling, wake up. Don't leave us!" he pleaded.
Infanta Liliana, in shock herself, looked and saw the Royal Children. She knew they shouldn't be there, especially little Margaret.
She walked over to them.
"Let's leave here. Your mother wouldn't want you here." she said.
Prince William nodded.
"You're right. Owen, Eleanor and Margaret will go with you. Edward and I will stay here." he said.
Liliana nodded and led her three younger cousins our of the hall, as Queen Anne's unconscious body was rushed out to her Bedchamber.
Later that evening...
King Harry and his two older sons were waiting outside of Queen Anne's Bedchamber, waiting on news of her condition. Prince Edward had his rosary clutched tightly in his hand and was on his knees, fiercely praying for his ill mother.
William looked at his father.
"Father, there's no need to worry. Mother will recover. It's just a simple illness." he said.
Harry nodded, hoping his son was right.
Suddenly, Infanta Liliana walked up and bowed.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I don't mean to intrude, but I am concerned about Queen Anne." she said.
Harry nodded. He wasn't trying to be rude to his cousin,but he didn't want anything else, but his wife's recovery.
Finally, Queen Anne's Bedchamber door opened and the physician walked in and bowed to King Harry.
Harry stood and looked at the older man.
"How is the Queen?" he asked.
The physician sighed.
"The Queen lives, however she has not awaken yet." he said.
Harry sighed.
"I understand, so what is the next step? Does she take a higher dose of her tonics now?" he asked
The physician looked at his King and the Princes and Liliana.
"Your Majesty, please excuse me, but I don't think that will help anymore. The Queen is in the Lord's hands. There is nothing more I can do, but make the Queen comfortable." he said.
Harry sat down slowly and looked at the floor. Prince William's face turned red and he turned and walked away. Prince Edward continued to pray. Infanta Liliana had a few tears fall down her beautiful face. None of them can could accept that Queen Anne may not survive this time.
10 November 1556
Sweden
Princess Christina of Denmark and Norway stood in the bridal chamber of palace chapel looking out the window into the courtyard. She was fifteen years old and knew it was her duty to marry and produce children for her husband, but she was nervous about what was to come. It was widely known on the continent that his older brother, Crown Prince Eric, was a womanizer and had a number of mistresses, despite being married to a beautiful English Princess who had given him a son. Christina did not want her marriage to Prince John to be that way, and she was afraid that it would.
Right before the ceremony was to begin, a knock came at the door. She commanded the person on the other side to enter, and the door opened, revealing Crown Princess Matilda on the other side.
Matilda smiled at the younger princess. "I just came to see how your nerves were holding up," she said with a knowing laugh.
"I'm glad you did," Christina replied with a Danish accent. "Not too well, if the truth is told. I'm worried about what will happen."
"Did your mother not explain the wedding night to you?" Matilda asked, gently.
"She did, yes," Christina responded. "It's not that I am worried about."
"What then?"
"Well," Christina searched quickly for the right words, "rumors about other royals from Sweden, specifically. . . " her voice trailed off not knowing how to continue.
"You mean about my marriage to the Crown Prince?" Matilda asked.
Christina sighed with relief that she didn't have to voice it. "Yes."
"Don't give it a second thought," Matilda said. "Johan is nothing like his brother. I can promise you that. His feelings on how Eric behaves are well know too all, Eric included."
"Doesn't it bother you that he has mistresses?" Christina asked.
"Yes, but I am here to provide Sweden with heirs," Matilda said. "When I was younger, I dreamed of a love based marriage like my parents have, but the reality is that it just didn't happen like I had hoped. Eric does as he pleases, and although I am treated with respect in the public eye, my marriage was one of political importance to both Sweden and England. Princesses don't have the luxury of counting on love." She paused for a moment, then continued. "I have my children and they are enough. They are the reason that I can handle my husband doing what he does. But in your case, Johan is devoted to the hope that you and he will eventually love one another, or at the very least, have a marriage based on friendship and respect. Plus, he believes that the vows he will make to you today are not only a promise to you, but one to our Heavenly Father. He, unlike his brother, will not break those vows. He's never broken a promise he's made in the time I've known him, and that much I can tell you as completely the truth."
Christina nodded. Her ideas faded a little as to what her marriage may become, but at least she knew that her soon-to-be husband tried to live as God intended. Perhaps if they both gave the marriage an honest chance, love would come in time, or as the Crown Princess said, at least a solid friendship and respect.
Another knock at the door brought both women out of their thoughts, and Christina bid the person to enter. It was one of the noble women coming to tell them that it was time for the ceremony. Christina smiled at her and nodded. Then she straightened her veil with Matilda's help and walked out of the room with her head held high, like a true Princess of Denmark would, regardless of the uncertain future she was facing.
13 November 1556
Hampton Court, England
Queen Anne of England's Bedchamber
The physician was standing watching Queen Anne. He had not rested in weeks, ever since Queen Anne had fallen seriously ill at the Fall Harvest celebration, he was ordered to not leave her side and to help her recover. Queen Anne had slipped in and out of consciousness for weeks, couldn't eat, but was unbearably thirsty.
Lady Mary Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk, walked over to the physician.
"Is there anything you'd like Ike me to do, Doctor?" she asked.
The physician sighed.
"Please fetch the King. I must update him on the condition of our Queen." he said.
Lady Mary looked at the ailing Queen Anne and nodded and went in search for the King.
Several moments later, King Harry walked in and looked at his beloved wife. He hated seeing her in such pain. He had the best doctors from England, France, Spain and Italy to inspect his beloved Queen. He was determined for her recovery and he would not take no for an answer.
The physician bowed to Harry.
"Your Majesty." he said.
Harry nodded.
"I was told you wanted to see me about the Queen's condition." he said.
The physician sighed.
"Your Majesty...I am sorry, but there is nothing more I or the other physicians can do. The Queen continues to deteriorate and nothing is helping her. I promise that we have tried." he said.
Harry closed his eyes, trying to show the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. If this was his father, he would send the physician to the Tower for treason. However, Harry was a different King. He knew that this was physician had tended Anne for years.
Suddenly, Anne stirred.
"Harry." she said, weakly
Harry sat next to her and held her hand.
"Yes, sweetheart." he said.
Anne looked at her husband, taking deep breaths.
"I want my Last Rites. I want to prepare my soul to meet the Lord." she said.
Harry let his tears fall, but he also nodded at her nearest lady-in-waiting to fetch her personal confessor.
Anne touched Harry's face.
"Please wake our children. I want to say goodbye." she said, with tears falling down her ghostly pale face.
Harry nodded and stood to rise, but Anne grabbed his hand.
"Please don't leave me. I don't want to be apart from you." she said.
Harry sat back down and took Anne's hand into both of his.
"I'm here, my love. Lady Mary, will you please wake the children and have them come here immediately." he said.
Lady Mary Brandon nodded her head and left the room to do as she was told.
Moments later, Princes William, Edward and Owen and Princesses Eleanor and Margaret walked in. William had little Margaret in his arms, as the six year old had to be woken up.
Queen Anne smiled weakly at her children.
"My beautiful children, my gifts from his most gracious Lord. I have called you here, because my our Lord has saw it fit to call me to his side and I wanted to let you all know of my deep love and affection for you. You have all made me so proud of you. The greatest gift I have was to be your mother. Listen to your father and continue to please God on all things on your life." she said.
All of her children had tears in their eyes. They couldn't believe this was happening to their beloved mother.
Prince William stepped forward with little Margaret in his arms and both kissed their mother, Margaret began to cry, as William handed his youngest sister to her governess and turned towards his mother.
"I will be a good King. I will make you proud." he said.
Anne touched his face.
"I know you will." she said.
He turned to leave and Edward, Owen and Eleanor said they're goodbyes to their mother. All three had tears in their eyes. As the priests walked in, they left the room, knowing this would be the last time they would see their mother.
Several hours later-14 November 1556...
After receiving her Last Rites, Queen Anne slipped on and out of consciousness. She was declining rapidly, but Harry still held her hand as she suffered. The priests continued to pray for her soul and her ladies remained faithfully by her side.
Suddenly the doors opened and Infanta Liliana walked in. She had been praying nonstop in the chapel.
She walked over and stood behind King Harry, with tears in her eyes. She had grown fond of Queen Anne in the six months she had been at the English Court and her declining health really hurt her to see.
Queen Anne finally opened her eyes and looked at her husband.
"Harry." she said faintly.
Harry shook his head head.
"Don't speak, sweetheart. Save your strength." he said.
Anne squeezed his hand tightly.
"Harry, I came to England twenty-five years ago. A simple German Princess who knew nothing of the world. You have been so such a wonderful husband. Continue to love our children and do the right thing by them. If you decide to remarry..."
Harry interrupted.
"I will never remarry." he said.
Queen Anne continued:
"You will and I hope you will be a good husband to her, as you were to me. Promise me that." she said.
Harry nodded, with tears falling down his face.
"I promise." he said.
Queen Anne looked at Infanta Liliana.
"Sweet Liliana, you will find love. Sooner than you think. Thank you for being kind and friendly to me." she said.
Liliana smiled.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." she said.
Anne looked at Harry.
"Thank you for loving me, darling. I shall always love you." she said.
With that, Anne of Cleves, Queen of England, closed her eyes and breathed her last, while holding her beloved husband's hand.
Harry let his tears flow and openly cried, as everyone in the room made the sign of the Cross.
As Harry continued to cry, Infanta Liliana, who also had a few tears fall, hit Harry's attention.
" Your Majesty, I am so sorry about Queen Anne. Would you like to go to the Chapel and pray for her soul?" she asked
Harry stood and nodded and began to leave his wife's, his now late wife's, Bedchamber. He turned and looked at the bed where his wife's lifeless body lay. Harry cried more and left the room.
21 November 1556
England
King Henry IX was in the backroom of the chapel at his palace. He knelt in front of the temporary tomb that held the earthly remains of his recently deceased wife, Queen Anne. Memories of their times together flooded his thoughts, despite his attempts to pray. He saw her face everywhere since she had died, and today was no different. He missed her and felt that he was truly alone in the world, a feeling that he had not felt since his illegitimate half-sister, Lady Rose, had been born.
His father had frequently had mistresses throughout his marriage to Harry's mother, the late Queen Katherine. Henry had never understood the reasoning behind his father's actions, and the late King Henry VIII was not one to explain his reasoning to anyone, including his only surviving son. Personally, he'd never found a reason to stray from Anne's side or their marriage vows, so the whole situation eluded him, even more now that Anne was gone.
Harry tried to return to his prayers, but found his mind overwhelmed with various scenes from his life with Anne. The day they met as teenagers came back to him as clearly as if it was yesterday. She had been so nervous, having heard stories of his father's behavior. She was worried that Henry would treat her the same way. It took a lot of time and reassuring her that he was not like that, having witnessed what that treatment did to his mother, but eventually Anne came to trust her husband. He recalled how they schemed to keep their second son, Prince Edward, a secret from his father, and had managed to pull it off for some time before it was discovered. Anne wanted to raise their second son in Wales after his father had ordered their eldest children, Prince William and Princess Matilda, be housed near London. His thoughts had drifted to the child they lost before he realized he was no longer alone.
He turned to see the form of a woman standing near the entrance to the room that held his wife's coffin. He tried to see who it was, but the light behind her shielded her identity until she spoke.
"Forgive me, your Majesty, but I have just arrived at court and wanted to pay my respects to our beloved Queen," the woman said. It was Lady Rose, his half-sister, who he had not seen for many years, as she was living in the country, still hidden from court as she had been as a child.
Harry stood and greeted her as warmly as his emotions would allow. "Dear Rose," he said, "I am glad you have come."
"I'm sorry for your loss, your Majesty," Rose said, returning his affection. "May I?"
"Of course," Harry responded, gesturing towards where his beloved Anne lay in state. Rose entered the room and knelt before the late Queen's coffin, silently praying for her soul, though they both knew if anyone would be well received in heaven, it would be the gentle soul of his wife.
After she crossed herself, Rose stood and turned to her brother. "Thank you, your Grace," the young woman said and started to leave before Henry stopped her.
"Stay at court for a while, dear sister," Henry said. "I want to spend time with you once the funeral. . . "
Rose nodded. "Of course, your Majesty. We shall talk later." She curtsied to the King and left the room. Henry sighed. He had not been the best of brothers to her and vowed to change that.
After her departure, he knelt again by Anne's coffin, allowing himself to grieve. He did not know how to be a strong King without her by his side. Shortly after, he was interrupted once again, but this time, it was his eldest son, Anne's eldest son, William, Prince of Wales. The younger man entered the room silently and placed a hand on his father's shoulder, startling the King.
"She's gone, William," Harry managed to say.
"Yes, Father, she is," William replied as he knelt by his father.
"How will I go on without her?" He asked.
"You loved her very much," William acknowledged. "That love will make you strong again. That is how you will go on."
"Her funeral will be massive," Harry informed him. "There were very few in this nation who hadn't grown to love her." William nodded. "I cannot be there, by tradition and by decree. No matter how much it pains me, I would not want to be the reason that any of our countrymen fall to treason." The Prince of Wales nodded again, not knowing what to say. "You will represent me at your mother's funeral, my son. Do us both proud."
"Of course, Father," William replied. "I would never want to embarrass you or my Lady Mother."
Harry looked at his son. "She had such dreams for you. She wanted to see you married. Perhaps I should have found you a wife who would have been able to marry you sooner, but the alliance with Scotland is vital, and it is the desire of my Aunt, Dowager Queen Margaret, that our nations, the land of her birth and the land of her husband, be united in peace."
William nodded. He understood the politics, but he did not like the fact that he was still betrothed to a child, despite the fact that Queen Mary was nearly of age to wed. It was at this moment that they heard the trumpets sound upstairs, and both men looked at the doorway. "Another noble who has come for the funeral," William acknowledged out loud. "I will see to their comfort, Father," he said, after crossing himself and standing. "You take care of you." Harry gave his son a grateful look and went back to his prayers, making a mental note to spend more time with his son once the funeral was over.
William looked at his father one more time before exiting the room, hoping that his own marriage would be one that would make his mother and his father proud, and would eventually lead to a love like theirs. Nothing would make him happier.
28 November 1556
England
The crowds had gathered at Westminster for the funeral of their beloved Queen Anne. Scores of nobles and their families had come to pay their last respects to the woman who had touched their lives since she came to England to marry the Prince of Wales, now King Henry IX of England. No one in England could speak a harsh word against the late Queen, but many honestly sung her praises as they waited for the funeral services to begin.
King Henry would not be attending the funeral formally, but many who knew him, knew he was not far away. His marriage to the late Queen had never been anything but happy, despite the sorrows they had been through together. The late Queen had provided the King, and England, with seven potential heirs to the throne, only one having died young. The current Prince of Wales, William, was grown, as were their other two sons, Edward, Duke of York, and Owen, Duke of Buckingham. Their eldest daughter, Matilda, was the Crown Princess of Sweden, and their second daughter was betrothed to the heir to the throne of Naples. Only their youngest remained unattached, but she was a child of six, and there was plenty of time for her father to secure her future. England was secure, and King Henry had their children and grandchildren to comfort him as he grieved privately for his beloved wife, who saw him through his coronation as King when his father, the late Henry VIII died in 1547, and again through the passing of his mother, the late Queen Katherine of Aragon, in 1550.
Queen Anne's coffin rested on its platform with the canopy of state held securely in place by six large wooden poles bearing the emblems of the Tudor regime in gold at their heads. Gold fringe lined the canopy, which was a deep purple, showing her rank as Queen of England. The coffin was covered with an embroidered pall bearing the Tudor rose in the center, embossed by the coat of arms of the King and that of her late father, the Duke of Cleves. After the funeral, she would be placed in a lead vault under the floor of the Abbey, where many former Queen's of England lay in eternal slumber, which a marble effigy placed on top of the spot where she lay. No one in the room doubted that when the time came, the King would be beside her, but no one dare speak it for imagining the death of the King was considered a treasonous crime, even if the thought was innocent.
Lilianna was seated in the front of the Abbey, next to the Prince of Wales, as chief mourner for the late Queen. Although the position was typically given to the highest lady of station at the time of the funeral who would be in attendance, King Henry had asked Lilianna to act as such due to the fact that she had become close to the Queen in her last few months, and Lilianna was a Princess, despite being from another nation. Lilianna was honored by the position after Henry had explained to her what it entailed, which was basically her presence at the funeral, and a small tribute to the late Queen when the time came. When she was asked to speak, Lilianna addressed the crowd that had gathered.
"I came to England from Spain only a few short months ago. Queen Anne immediately made me feel welcome in this land, foreign to my birth and customs, and guided me through many court customs, which I have come to see as most admirable. She was a woman of grace and goodness, adoring her husband, the King, and their children, speaking to me many times of how proud she was of each of them. William, the Prince of Wales, she said was strong and courageous, but also caring, like his father, despite his youth. She gave him great praise on many occasions, knowing that he would continue to learn as he aged and knowing that his youthful temperament would be put to rest when needed. She also spoke of Princess Matilda, now the Crown Princess of Sweden, and mother of her only grandchildren of yet. She said that Matilda was the ray of sunshine that brightened their day in her youth, and now a woman and mother who would make anyone glad that she was their daughter. Edward, Duke of York, she called her conscience; the child who could see reason in anything, even if he disagreed with it, but who also had a calling from God to be a loving a gentle soul, while being strong and brave of heart. Owen, Duke of Buckingham, she referred to as her general; the child who was fearless and would not stand for his siblings being berated unjustly by anyone, including each other in jest. Princess Eleanor she called her springtime rose, who was always learning and opening new petals as she grew. Queen Anne said that Eleanor would be an amazing Queen for Naples and bring some of the English gentleness to the Italian coastal breezes. Princess Margaret she called her miracle child, who gave her hope when there was none," Lilianna recounted, tears rolling down her cheeks. "She also had great love and hope for her adopted nation, that she, herself, said was no longer anything to her but home. It was where she became a wife, a mother, and a Queen, one that she hoped had honored her people in life, and will be remembered, but not mourned, in death, as she held great hope that she would greet our Heavenly Father in Heaven, and all those whom she loved, but had left this world for a better one long ago."
With that, Lilianna returned to her seat beside the Prince of Wales, who was representing his father, the King, on this day. The Archbishop continued with the mass for several more hours, which was beautiful, then dismissed those in the church, so the crowds outside could make their way in to say goodbye and pay their respects to the Queen that they had loved, and who had loved them. Before exiting the chapel, Lilianna looked around her, noticing a gated and partially hidden alcove behind the choir of the church. She saw movement behind it, and knew that Henry had attended his wife's funeral, though he was not seen by anyone else. As the Prince of Wales offered her his arm, she replaced her veil and took it, walking out into the sunshine on what should have been a rainy day, then realized that perhaps it wasn't raining for another reason; though the Queen was gone, she was no longer in pain, and perhaps the sun was out to remind them of the promise that in Heaven there was no more pain and the Queen was at rest.
30 November 1556
Stockholm Palace, Stockholm, Sweden
The Royal Family Room
Princess Matilda was holding her one year old, Princess Katarina,in her lap, as the happy toddler babbled happily. Matilda loved her life in Sweden. She was well-respected and loved, despite the fact that she was a devout Catholic and majority of the Court was of the Lutheran Faith, much to her displeasure. Even the Royal Family loved and respected her, especially the young ng Gustav had made it mandatory that the Royal Family spend more time together. He was now sixty years old and wanted to be with his children as much as possible.
Matilda looked across the room and saw her husband, Crown Prince Eric, reading a book. Matilda and Eric had not been close for some time, due to his recent mistress. Matilda was not a woman to cause a scene, but seeing them two together at Court made her English blood boil. How dare he humiliate her when she gave him three healthy beautiful children, especially a son? To top it off, she was only twenty-one years old and was young enough to have more sons, seeing as their only son was only four years old. Eric wasn't unkind to her and they had good times, but his roving eye was too much and she had to silently turn her eyes away. Thankfully, his mistress was forbidden from King Gustav's family chambers.
Suddenly, one of her faithful maids walked in and bowed and handed her a sealed letter that was addressed from her father, King Henry IX of England. She was excited to read what he had to say and she opened her letter, after handing little Katarina to her governess:
My dear daughter,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and undying faith in our Lord God. The meaning behind this letter, unfortunately does not bring joyful tidings or news. As you know, your mother, our beloved Queen Anne, has been very ill for some time now, but her spirits have always been very high. Unfortunately, this summer past, your mother's condition continued to decline and worsen. Prayers were sent up to our beloved Lord for him to heal your mother of her dreaded illness and restore her health to her. However, the Lord decided to heal her in his own way and your mother, our beloved Queen Anne of England, gave her soul back to our Lord on the fourteenth day of this month. Do not linger in sadness, my darling child. Your mother would want you to be happy with your life in Sweden and with your three beloved children. My darling daughter, I will close this letter by telling you that your mother loved you very much and she was so proud of you.
Your loving father,
Henry IX
Matilda gasped in shock and began to cry. She couldn't believe that her beloved mother was gone. She knew her mother's health had grown delicate, but she didn't think or expect that her mother would die at just forty-one years old.
Prince Eric walked over when he saw his wife was in tears. He read the letter and closed his eyes. He knew fro the time he met Queen Anne that her time was coming to an end.
He hugged his wife.
"I am sorry for the loss of your mother, sweetheart. I know you loved her." he said.
Matilda stood up and glared at him, with tears still rolling down her face.
"I do not need your sympathy, dear husband. Why don't you return to the whore who warms your bed and leave me to grieve in peace?" she said, as she walked out of the room, with her ladies-in-waiting following closely behind her.
Prince Eric was shocked. Matilda had a temper, but she was never public like this, especially not in front of the rest of the Royal Family members. He looked behind him and saw his father, King Gustav and his stepmother, Queen Katherine, looking stunned.
King Gustav stood.
"Katherine, why don't you check on the Crown Princess? I know that the two of you are very close." he said.
The twenty-one year old Queen stood, bowed to her husband and her stepson and walked out of the room.
Prince Eric sighed.
"Father, women are so unstable. I am sure that if us men did not need carnal pleasure and heirs, we could live without them." he said.
King Gustav sighed.
"My son, you had a wonderful wife. I cannot forbid you or stop you from taking others to your bed. However, I will say this to you. You need to be more respectful and discreet. Matilda has been devoted to you in the five years that she has been your wife and she has provided you with three healthy children. I don't see any reason why you shouldn't respect her." he said, before leaving the room.
Prince Eric sighed and sat down. He had to admit Matilda was a dutiful wife to him and she even pleased him in the bedchamber, however he also loved the company and the various selection of other women. However, his wife was now in pain and he would do everything in his power to help her heal and then he could peacefully return to the company of his mistress.
8 December 1556
Scotland
"A date for the marriage hasn't even been set yet," Prince Arthur, Duke of Albany, said in reply to his younger brother's remarks concerning their young Queen, Mary, travelling to England next year once she turned fifteen. The conversation was in regard to a letter from King Henry IX's proposal that his son, William, Prince of Wales, and Mary, Queen of Scots, formally meet at Christmastide in 1557. "How can we send her to England without a set wedding date OR a formal betrothal having taken place?"
"This is England we are talking about," Prince Joseph, Duke of Ross, remarked. "They probably just want to make sure that the Queen is pretty before tying their heir to her for life." Many of the Scottish councilmen laughed. "Henry VIII was notorious for his pretty mistresses. Is there any reason to think that his son isn't like the late King?"
Just then, there was a noise from the head of the table, where, sitting in the regent's chair, was Dowager Queen Margaret, who was not only regent for the fourteen year old queen, but also the mother or grandmother of more than half the men in the room. Once she had their attention, she spoke, and not a moment before. "Gentlemen, I would remind you that the late King you speak of was my brother, and the current is my nephew. How can I assure you that her looks are not on King Henry IX's mind? He was raised by my late sister-in-law, Queen Katherine of Aragon, one of the MOST pious women that God ever saw fit to place on this earth." She paused to meet each and everyone of their eyes. They hung their heads as they should after being corrected by their mother and former Queen, despite being grown men.
"What do you think should be done about England's request, my lady mother?" Arthur asked.
Margaret looked at her eldest surviving son and thought for a moment. "With honesty and straightforwardness, as befitting any dealing with my nephew. Send word that without a formal betrothal, it would damage Mary's reputation to journey to England to meet her betrothed, and as the date for the wedding has still not been set by either side, there is little insurance that the contract is nothing more than words. No, we will not send her to England at fifteen, but do invite His Majesty to send his son here to Scotland, where their meeting and relationship can develop under the watchful eye of her council, ensuring to the world that she is pure until their wedding night."
"That will be perceived well," scoffed Prince Victor, the youngest of Dowager Queen Margaret's surviving sons, the one prone to sarcasm more than his brothers.
"No, it won't," Margaret stated, "but it will get the point across. Henry will get the message that either they put forth an exact date for the marriage of our Queen to their heir, or they will risk losing the alliance that it brings. My nephew is not ignorant. He will set the date finally." She finished that statement with extraordinary confidence.
"What if he doesn't? What if he calls our bluff?" Prince Arthur asked. He was the planner of the family; the one that had to have a backup plan, just in case.
"Then we find Mary another match, if one can be found, on the continent. If not, she marries the son of a Duke who is completely loyal to the crown here in Scotland," the Dowager Queen said. "Who she marries, if it is not the heir to England's throne, is of little importance, unless she was to marry an heir of Spain. However, THAT alliance will not happen as their only unmarried heir at the moment in the line of succession is only a babe."
"Why is it so important that Mary marries England, lady mother?" Prince Joseph asked.
"I was a Princess of England before I married your late father, as you well know," the Dowager Queen began. "When my eldest brother Arthur, died in 1502, I should have become Queen, but because of the rules regarding the line of succession, that fell to my younger brother, Henry. With Mary's marriage to William, Prince of Wales, I regain some of what I have lost through her. My bloodline will sit on the throne of England as it should have."
The three Scottish princes looked at one another after hearing this explanation. This time, it was Prince Arthur who asked the question.
"Does your bloodline not already sit there through your nephew?"
"Not my direct line, my son," she responded. "Had the laws been more just and I became Queen of England in my own right, then your brother would have been King of both nations. But they were not and are not, and he didn't. Though my sons will not rule England, it is possible that my great-grandsons will."
Now they understood. Their mother felt they had been cheated from a birthright that should have been theirs, as she had been cheated from her place as Queen. Prince Joseph was about to ask another question when the large double doors to the council chambers opened, and the young Queen of Scots ran in as if the palace was on fire.
"Mary!" Dowager Queen Margaret shouted at the girl, "What are you thinking, running into this room, or running at all, and interrupting a meeting I expressly told you not to attend?"
The council all stood quickly and bowed to their Queen, who in return nodded at them once, her eyes filled with fear. "My apologies Lady Grandmother, but. . ." she stopped and looked at the councilmen one by one.
"Speak child," Margaret commanded.
"My news would probably be best heard by your ears first, Lady Grandmother," Mary said, as she did not know if the rest of council were to hear such information from her first before her regent knew.
Margaret calmed herself and dismissed the men, who all bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind them. Once they were alone, Margaret took Mary by the hand and led her to the head of the table, away from the doors, in case anyone wanted to try and listen to the news Mary brought.
"Now," Margaret said, "what news has you so fearful?"
"I've received word from Prince William of Wales," Mary whispered, nearly in tears. "His mother, her Majesty, Queen Anne, is dead."
Later that evening. . .
Queen Mary's fourteenth birthday party was in full swing. Courtiers from all over Scotland, as well as several foreign ambassadors, gathered in the ball room of the palace. There was a table piled with gifts for the young Queen, and the kitchen staff had made a scrumptious feast for her guests. Mary sat on her throne with her grandmother by her side, watching the different lords and ladies of her realm dance, weaving patterns on the dance floor. She leaned over to whisper to her grandmother, so no one else would hear them.
"Would it not have been proper to go into mourning over the late Queen's passing, Lady Grandmother?" Mary asked. She had learned court customs early in her life and did not understand why her party was allowed to continue, other than her grandmother deciding that they would announce the news first thing in the morning instead.
"That would have meant cancelling your party, my dear," Margaret told her. "Your guests were already invited; some having come a long way for this."
"I understand, but this just doesn't feel right to me," Mary said, honestly.
"Would you prefer to announce Queen Anne's passing now?" Margaret asked.
Mary nodded. "I know it will sadden my guests, but I think it is more appropriate if we do."
Margaret looked at her granddaughter. Mary was right, and sometime over the past several years, she had become more of a woman than a child. Margaret smiled with pride that Mary understood what was right and was willing to give up her night in order to make that happen. She would be a great Queen once she married and no longer needed a regent.
"Then make the announcement," Margaret told her.
Mary looked at her with disbelief at first. "Am I allowed to do that?"
Margaret laughed and nodded. "Of course. You are Queen. This does not concern any laws or any matters of state. There is no reason why you cannot announce the cancellation of your own birthday party in favor of the court entering a period of mourning for the passing of a fellow monarch. You know what to say, or at least how to say it. Go, child. Do what you feel is right." Mary stood and nodded.
The young Queen looked over at her herald, who was watching her movements. She nodded at him with perfect eye contact, as she had been taught to do. He tapped his staff three times on the floor to gain the attention of the party guests, and when all eyes were on the Queen, Mary stepped forward on the dais.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, honored guests, and my Lady Grandmother, Dowager Queen Margaret," Mary started softly, then spoke up. "It is with great sadness that I must announce the passing of Queen Anne of England, of which we just received word. My heart goes out to my fiancée, William, Prince of Wales, my English cousins, her sisters, Lady Sibylle, Duchess of Albany and Lady Amelia, Duchess of Montrose, and all who knew her, as do my prayers. I cannot, in good conscience, allow the party to continue while my fiancée and his siblings are in mourning for their mother, so forgive me, but from now until Christmas Eve, our court will echo their sadness with a mourning period of our own. I thank you all for coming and for your gracious understanding of the situation." Mary looked back at her grandmother, who nodded her approval. Her uncle, Prince Arthur, came forward to escort her from the dais and out of the room, followed by Prince Victor, who offered the Dowager Queen his arm, following Mary. Their wives also accompanied the two women from the room, wanting more details about their late sister.
Once the doors had closed behind them, Margaret took a hold of Mary's arm and expressed her pride in the young Queen. "That was well handled, your Majesty," Margaret said, and for the first time in her life, she curtsied as best she could to her granddaughter. Prince Arthur and Prince Victor bowed, the turned to their wives, who were understandably upset.
"Why are we just being informed of Anne's passing?" Lady Sibylle asked, her face streaked with tears.
"I do not know, Aunt," Mary responded. "William gave me no reason for the lateness of his letter, only the explanation that his father was in a deep state of grief and that he had been busy with the funeral arrangements and courtiers for weeks. He implied that he had not yet grieved his mother's passing but was writing to me because he now felt her loss more than ever."
"But she was our sister," Lady Amelia complained. "We should have been there for the funeral, which I assume has passed."
"It has," Mary confirmed. "It was on the twenty-eighth of November."
Lady Sibylle nearly collapsed into her husband's arms. "I'd better get her upstairs, your Majesty," Prince Arthur said.
"Of course," Mary said, "see to your wife. Please accept my condolences on your loss."
Prince Arthur and Prince Victor nodded as they led their wives away from the room and towards the chambers they kept at court.
"Now, let's get you up to your chambers as well and find you a suitable gown for the mourning period." Mary just nodded. Before she slept that night, she would write a letter to her betrothed, offering her nation's condolences and her own. She wanted to make sure he knew that he was not alone in this. Though she never knew him, Mary felt the absence of her father and hoped that feeling would not be so strong for her future husband, as he had some memories of his mother, where she had none.
14 December 1556
Hampton Court, England
Prince William's Bedchamber
William, Prince of Wales was sitting at his desk, with tears in his eyes. It had been a month since his beloved mother's death and the Court was not the same at all. Everyone was in black, per King Henry's rule and there were rumors that Christmas would be canceled. A dark cloud was over Hampton Court and it was not known when it would be lifted.
Suddenly, there was a knock at his door.
William looked up.
"Enter." he said.
The door opened and Lady Elizabeth Fitzroy walked in and curtsied.
William smiled.
"My dear friend, rise. You don't need to how to me." he said.
Lady Elizabeth rose and hugged him.
"How are you, William?" she asked.
William sighed.
"Im not sure how to feel anymore. I miss my mother, however I feel like she wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want a dreary or sad Court." he said.
Lady Elizabeth nodded her head.
"I know how you feel. It's been four years since I lost my mother as well. My father was inconsolable." she said.
William looked at her.
"How did you manage to heal?" he asked.
Elizabeth sighed.
"It wasn't easy, but when I look at my youngest sister, I see my mother. That helps me get through it." she said.
Suddenly, William began to cry.
"I just miss her so much!" he said.
Startled, Lady Elizabeth hugged her weeping friend and whispered soft comforting words to him. She knew he couldn't show his pain on public, but their friendship had evolved where he could be himself in her presence.
William continued to cry, while his head laid on Elizabeth's bosom. As he started to calm down, he realized how good it felt to have Lady Elizabeth hold him.
He looked into her blue eyes and before he knew it, he was kissing her. The kiss between them deepened and they both laid on his bed. Both knew that this was wrong and that they should stop, but they couldn't. As Lady Elizabeth started to undress him, William knew that before morning, neither one would be pure anymore.
23 December 1556
Hampton Court Palace
England
Silence fell over the Palace for the first time in years. Black tapestries hung from the ceiling and even covered most of the windows. The Christmas celebrations were officially cancelled, due to the recent death of Queen Anne and every courtier was either disappointed or saddened at the news. However, everyone sympathized with the Royal Family. It was now late at night and many people were in their beds, asleep or in their private Chambers.
Suddenly, a young man began to walk the halls, holding the hands of a little red-haired girl. Both were just in their night clothes. The young man was nineteen year old Prince Edward, Duke of York and his youngest sister, six year old Princess Margaret.
Little Margaret looked up at her older brother.
"Eddie, won't we get in trouble? Lady Howard said I was to stay in bed." she whispered.
Edward looked at her.
"Don't worry, Maggie. You won't get in trouble. But I need you to remain very quiet.
Margaret nodded and remained quiet as they walked the dark corridors, until they came to a small room, that was tucked nearly out of sight.
Prince Edward knocked on it and the door opened, revealing Prince William, the Prince of Wales.
"Come in, quickly." he said, ushering his younger siblings in the room.
Inside the room, seventeen year old Prince Owen, Duke of Buckingham and thirteen year old Princess Eleanor were sitting at a small table that had various food , drinks and sweets. They both were also in their nightclothes as well.
"William, are you sure we won't get in trouble? Father said no Christmas celebrations, due to... Mother's death." he said, with his voice cracking.
The five siblings stood in silence. They still greatly missed their mother. Little Margaret was sitting in her brother, Edward's, lap and sniffed a little, as tears fell.
William spoke up.
"Everyone knows that Mother loved Christmas. I am the future King and normally I would defer to our Father, but this is something I cannot agree with him. This Court needs healing. So, I figured we would have our own Christmas, which I believe Mother would have wanted us to do." he said.
Princess Eleanor smiled.
"I agree with Liam. Mother wouldn't have wanted a sad, dreary black Court at Christmastide. She loved color, dancing and games. This isn't what she wanted. So, we will celebrate our Lord, with Mother in spirit." she said.
Suddenly, seventeen year old Prince Owen knocked over his cup of wine and looked at his siblings, in embarrassment. Prince Owen was known to be the most clumsy out of his parents children.
Prince Edward started to laugh at his younger brother.
"Owen, you always knock over your drink. I remember Mother would drop her cup, just so you didn't feel bad." he said.
Owen smiled.
"She made it funny. I didn't feel bad after that. I truly miss her." he said.
William raised his glass.
"To our beloved Mother." he said.
All the siblings raised their cups.
"To Mother." they all said.
25 December 1556
Spain
Lady Giovanna, Duchess of the Infantado, had not expected to go into labor on Christmas Eve, but that's exactly what had happened. Her waters had broken as she was getting ready for bed, looking forward to Christmas morning and taking her family to mass, then coming home and watching the children open their gifts. Lady Anais was seven and the youngest surviving child of her husband's first wife. She was the only one still at home from his first marriage, but the young girl, who never really knew her mother, had grown close to Giovanna over the past year. Then there was Lord Alfonso, the only child that she had with her husband, who was just a year old. Neither of them had expected her to be with child again so quickly, but she had. The child she was carrying was not due for another week; they were expecting a New Year's baby, but Giovanna was not worried. Babies did not always come when they were expected, and this one was definitely on its way into the world on a very special day.
Early on Christmas morning, the midwife told her it was time to push. This labor went much smoother than her last, and before sunrise a loud, wailing infant had arrived. The midwife's assistant cleaned the child and wrapped it in a blanket before handing it to its mother. Giovanna kissed the baby's head and held it for only a moment before the maids came in to clean the room, so the Duke could enter. Her husband was in awe of the new arrival and with how quickly the baby had come. He approached his wife and child slowly, then sat on the edge of the freshly changed bed.
"Have we a son or daughter, wife?" he asked, looking down at the baby Giovanna held in her arms.
Giovanna looked at the midwife. She had not wanted to know the gender of the child until her husband was present.
"My Lord, my lady," the midwife said, "you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl." Diego looked from the midwife to his wife in confusion.
"I asked them not to tell me until you were here, my lord husband," Giovanna said. "I wanted us to find out together."
Diego nodded and reached out to hold his new daughter. Giovanna handed her to her father with a smile.
"She is indeed a beauty," he announced, "much like her mother."
Giovanna blushed at the compliment. "We will have to make some changes in the Christmas celebrations. The children will be awake soon."
Diego nodded, handing the little girl back to her mother. "What shall we call her?"
Giovanna thought for a moment. It was Christmas Day, and she finally responded with "Maria. It fits the day of her birth greatly and pays homage to our Lady at the same time."
Diego smiled. "That it does. Lady Maria de Mendoza she is then." He paused for a moment. "I will go see that the celebrations are moved in here so you and our new daughter can be with the family today." He kissed his wife on the forehead, then his daughter, and quickly left the room.
An hour passed with various servants bringing the gifts and other items into her bedchamber on her husband's orders. Finally, Lady Anais came in with her governess, along with Lord Alfonso and his nannies. Her husband quickly followed them, and finally, their family was together.
Diego ushered the children to their mother's bedside. "This is your new sister, Maria. She was born early this morning," he told the children. Lady Anais looked at the bundle in Giovanna's arms and smiled.
"I have a sister?" she asked.
"Yes," her father told her.
"I prayed for a sister to grow up with," Lady Anais said. "God does answer prayers."
"Yes, He does sometimes," Giovanna replied softly, looking at all of the children. "He certainly has answered mine with you, your brother and now your sister."
Lady Anais beamed at her stepmother, then turned her attention to the presents that were surrounding the chairs and table in Giovanna's room. "Are those for me?" she asked.
Diego laughed. "Some of them are, and some are for Alfonso, and some for your mother."
"What about Maria?" she asked.
"Well, we weren't expecting Maria to come so soon, so we did not plan any presents for her," Diego said. Lady Anais looked hurt at the thought, then motioned to her governess and whispered something in the woman's ear. Then she ran out of the room, forgetting her manners. The little girl returned moments later with her favorite doll and took it to Giovanna.
"This is for Maria," she announced. "I have so many toys, and I want her to have it. It's something special from her older sister."
Giovanna looked at Diego, knowing that the doll had been a gift from his first wife to the little girl. He nodded his approval, and Giovanna took the doll and showed it to Maria. "This is from your big sister on your first Christmas, little one."
Anais stepped up closer to the bed and smiled at the baby, then kissed her gently on her head. "I love you Maria. I hope you always remember this day. I know I will." With that, the family gathered around the bed and opened their other gifts, but none were as special as the one Maria got from her sister. It was a true gift of love.
31 December 1556
Portugal
Duarte, the Crown Prince of Portugal, waited nervously in his father's study. It was his wedding day, and although he and Maria had gotten to know each other since she had arrived in Portugal over a year ago, he couldn't help but wonder how much of her mother was really in her.
He had grown up hearing the stories of Princess Isabella, twice the Queen consort of Portugal, and her raving fits of madness. There were even rumors that she had murdered her first husband by strangulation when he tried to claim his conjugal rights of having her in his bed. Some said that it was because all of their children died and the young Queen was miserable, while others just claimed that she had inherited the madness of the Spanish Crown. Duarte never dared to ask because it would have been rude, but he hoped that Maria was nothing like her mother and that their lives together would be happy, like his father's and mother's had been so far. He was deep in thought when the door opened. He did not even notice there was someone else there until his father spoke.
"Son, it is time," King Carlos told his only living son. Duarte looked up and swallowed hard. Carlos noticed his hesitation. "What is it?"
"Father," Duarte said, "I know this will probably seem rude and inappropriate, but I have to know. . . How likely is it that Maria has inherited her mother's madness?"
"Madness?" Carlos questioned.
"Yes," Duarte said. "The stories I have heard throughout my life about the former Queen Consort are nothing short of insane."
"What makes you think they are real, son?"
"Why wouldn't they be?" Duarte questioned.
"Rumors persist about all royals all across the continent," Carlos replied, sitting on the edge of his large mahogany desk. "Your sister, Catarina, is supposedly an imposter who was swapped at birth for a son we lost before you were born. Your mother had been rumored to actually be the daughter of Katherine of Aragon and the late Duke of Suffolk. Elizabeth, Queen of Navarre, is allegedly a man, despite having three biological children. What makes you think that Isabella is any different?"
"So, you don't believe the rumors that she murdered the late King Manuel? Or that she persists with fits of madness with such a randomness that no one knows what might set her off?" Duarte asked.
"I have met Isabella in person and was there when Maria's father died," Carlos said. "She was deeply saddened by his death, and yes, she yelled a lot, but it was not from madness, but from grief for the man she believed was her husband."
"I was not aware," Duarte admitted, looking guiltily at the floor.
"I will tell you something else, since you are to marry her daughter," Carlos said, "but you must not tell a soul, not even your wife. I do not know what Isabella has informed Maria of and what she has not, and it is not our place to tell this to anyone, but hers and hers alone." Duarte nodded. "Isabella has been married a total of four times. Her first husband, the late King Manuel, was cruel to her when she was only sixteen years old and treated her more as a conquest than a wife. Their children either were stillborn or died young, and because of that the court looked badly upon her as Queen, and Manuel only agitated that situation by allowing people to say bad things about his wife." Carlos paused. "After his death, she returned to England only to be shamed by her own father for being a barren widow, then she was married to an English Lord, who probably only married her because she was a Princess. They had twins, a son and daughter, before he died from the sweating sickness, but the birth of the twins only proved Henry VIII wrong, that his daughter wasn't barren after all, and he was not a man who liked to be proven wrong, so he took it out on Isabella, taking her son away from her to be raised at court, then her father sent her only daughter to France, as she was a girl and useless in Henry's eyes. The little girl died within the year, and Isabella was left alone and broken."
"How horrible for her," Duarte said. He felt even worse for thinking his Aunt was mad.
"Yes," his father responded, "it was a terrible time. But then, she married your Uncle, the late King, and they had Maria. From what we were able to gather, Isabella was happy here at court then and your Uncle loved her a great deal, but he never got the dispensation from the Pope to marry Isabella, and because she had been his brother's wife, it was required to make the marriage legitimate in the eyes of God. That's why Maria was declared illegitimate when he died."
"Oh, Father," Duarte said. He'd never heard anything like this before.
"This is why your mother and I have always tried to treat them both with dignity and respect," Carlos told him. "They don't deserve what happened, and what the men in their lives failed to do."
"No, they do not," Duarte agreed.
"After I took the throne here, Isabella was taken to Spain as a precaution, and we almost kept Maria here, but your mother wouldn't hear of it. She told me the entire situation with Isabella, everything she had been through, and asked me not to separate her from her daughter," Carlos said. "It was not an easily reached decision, but in the end, I agreed. I am glad I did. Isabella seems to have calmed down since that awful time, and she remarried to a Spanish Lord."
"Yes, Maria speaks fondly of her deceased step-father," Duarte replied. "She said he was a good man who tried to raise her right, and although he spoiled her, he did not let it go to her head."
"So it seems," Carlos responded. "Now, have I quelled any reservations you had about marrying the girl?"
"Yes, Father," Duarte told him. "Thank you for telling me all of this."
Carlos nodded, reminded his son they were expected, then left the room. Duarte clipped his belt on that held his sabre, straightened his uniform, then followed his father into the chapel of the palace, where the ceremony was to take place. Unlike with other royal weddings, Portugal did not believe in elaborate ceremonies, but preferred the more intimate family setting, with a large banquet to follow. He took his place next to the priest and waited for his bride to enter the chapel.
It was worth the wait in his eyes. Maria was elegantly dressed in a beautiful gown of crimson and silver and carried a white bible in her hands. As they stood before the priest, Duarte felt proud to be marrying her, and could only hope that he could make her happy as the years passed. He knew one thing for certain; the woman standing beside him would never go through what her mother did. As long as he lived he would make sure that people treated her with the respect she was due as the future Queen Consort of Portugal.
A/N Well, here's chapter 47! I really appreciate you all sticking with me through these long chapters and new characters and various storylines. If you need a recap or just a reminder, please PM me and I will get you up to speed. Also, in this Chapter, we said goodbye to a beloved character, Anne of Cleves, Queen of England. Her death came a little earlier than her historical counterpart, but but will not be in vain, as her bloodline continues. I will give anyone a shout out if they can guess how Queen Anne died. Thank you all again and chapter 48 is currently in the works!
