Chapter 64

I hope you are well. I am trying to post more updates instead of having long pauses in between. The research is definitely a tasking part, but the story will continue and that is a solid promise. Please Read and Review and enjoy Chapter Sixty-Four!

6 September 1562
Caserta Place, Naples, Italy
The Royal Chapel

Prince Owen and Princess Lucrezia were smiling an very proud. Today was the day that their son, Lord Edward, was being christened. They sat down and watched as Lucrezia's younger brother, twelve year old Prince Alfonso and Owen's sister Princess Eleanor, promised to care for their nephew and guide him spiritually. The christening was a grand affair, due to the fact the little Edward was the eldest grandson of the King of Naples.

King Alfonso smiled at his eldest daughter and her husband. However, he also noticed his eldest son and was almost scared at his face. Prince Giovanni was glaring at his wife and did not look happy at all. Giovanni had been very difficult lately and his temper was worsening.

Queen Adriana noticed her husband looking worried and place her hand on his.

"Pay attention, darling. This is an important occasion." she said.

Alfonso nodded.

"I am sorry. However, our son deeply troubles me." he said.

Adriana sighed.

"Today is about our grandson. Any problem with Giovanni can be put aside for now. Yes, he may have a horrible temper, but he is our heir. I know that he knows what is expected of him." she said.

Alfonso nodded and continued to pay attention to the christening, silently praying that his wife was right.


The Banquet Hall

Princess Lucrezia held tightly to her four month old son. The twenty-one year old was proud and thanked God everyday for this precious gift. She was also relieved that he was healthy and strong and was predicted by the astrologers to live a long, prosperous life.

Owen walked up to his wife and looked down at his infant son, smiling.

"Sweetheart, many people are wondering why you are constantly with our son and not talking to the guests." he said.

Lucrezia sighed.

"I am a mother first. I care not what people say. They do not understand how precious Edward is to me. Do you think I am wrong?" she asked.

Owen shook his head.

"Never. I am blessed that our son will have a caring mother. It makes me miss my own mother. I can not believe it has been six years since she died." he said.

Lucrezia took his hand.

"She is watching over you and i know that she is very proud of you." she said.

Owen smiled.

Suddenly, Prince Giovanni and Princess Eleanor walked up.

"May I see Edward, dear sister?" Giovanni asked.

Lucrezia briefly tensed up. She and Giovanni used to have a very close relationship, however since both of their marriages, they had drifted apart. Giovanni had turned into a very cold and almost evil person. She also hated how he treated his wife, her husband's own sister and was even told about his sexual irregularities and it made her revile the sight of him.

She took a breath and nodded.

"Of course, Brother." she said.

Giovanni took the infant in his arms and looked down at the boy, who was showing he would have his father's brown hair.

"He is a sweet boy. Why did you wait to have him baptized?" he asked.

Lucrezia looked at her brother.

"There were many cases of Swamp Fever in Court and Owen and I did not want to expose Edward to the sick. We had my confessor pray over him daily and we did everything to protect his soul until we could baptize him publicly." she said.

Eleanor nodded.

"Swamp Fever was terrible this year." she said.

Giovanni glared at her, which made her become silent.

He looked down at the baby again.

"You two are fortunate to have an heir. I have still not had the pleasure of being blessed with a son." he said.

Owen glared at his brother-in-law.

"My sister is only nineteen years old. She has plenty of time to provide you with a son. You should thank the Lord for your daughter. She is a beautiful and healthy child." he said, trying to contain his temper.

Giovanni smirked.

"I suppose you are right. My wife is young. She is also good for one thing. Let me show you what she is good for." he said.

Suddenly, he grabbed Eleanor and tore the front part of her dress, revealing her breasts, which were covered in bruises and bite marks.

Owen unsheathed his sword.

"UNHAND MY SISTER!" he said.

Giovanni laughed and threw Eleanor at her brother's feet. Lucrezia handed her son to one of her maids, hoping not to upset him more, as he was already crying over hearing his father's shout.

Suddenly, Princess Maria, Giovanni and Lucrezia's seventeen year old younger sister rushed forward with a shawl to cover Eleanor. However, before she could reach her sister-in-law, Giovanni slapped her across the face, making her fall to the ground as well.

"LEAVE THE WHORE! SHE BELONGS TO ME!" he said.

Lucrezia looked at her brother, in anger.

"How dare you behave this way? You are a disgrace to our father's name!" she yelled.

Giovanni raised his hand, but froze as Owen raised his sword and held it at Giovanni's neck.

"Lower your hand from my wife." he sternly commanded.

Giovanni glared at Lucrezia.

"FUCK YOU! YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A SON BEFORE ME?! I WILL BE THE KING! YOUR SON IS NOTHING! YOU HEAR ME? HE IS NOTHING! I AM THE THE FUTURE KING!" he said, before grabbing a goblet of wine, drinking it and throwing at the Archbishop of Naples, barley missing him and walking out.

Lucrezia and Owen began to tend to their respective sisters. Lucrezia was horrified that Maria's nose had begun to bleed from the force of their brother's hand.

"Are you well, sister?" she gently asked.

Maria nodded her head.

"I am fine. There is no need to fret over me." she said.

King Alfonso and Queen Adriana walked over and Queen Adriana began to comfort her daughters and daughter-in-law.

She looked at Maria.

"We will get this looked at immediately." she said, nodding to her lady-in-waiting, who ushered Maria out of the Hall.

Eleanor sat on the ground, holding her torn dress, so that she would not be exposed again.

Queen Adriana looked at a random soldier.

"Hand me your cloak now." she said.

The soldier did as commanded and Adriana wrapped it around her daughter-in-law.

"You are excused , sweetheart. Get some rest. Stay away from my son tonight. My husband need to address his behavior tonight." she said.

Eleanor nodded and Owen led his wife and sister out of the hall, away from the rest of the courtiers.

Alfonso looked at his wife, visibly upset.

"Do you still think there is hope for him?" he asked, before he too walked away.

Queen Adriana sighed and looked around her, noticing all eyes were on her. She waved her hands and the banquet resumed, as if nothing had happened. Adriana made her way back to her Throne and had her rosary clutched in her hand, silently asking God what had gone wrong with her eldest son and what would the future be like with him as the King.


9 September 1562
Church of St. Mary, Warwick, England
The Burial Chapel

The room was even cold in the late summer heat, but she did not care. Lady Katherine Grey-Dudley, dresses in all black, was making her way to one specific tomb. It had only been six months since the sudden death of her beloved Robert. He was only thirty years old.

Finally, she came across the tomb of her beloved Robin. Her source of happiness. Her one true love. The father of her beloved son.

Katherine placed a hand on the cold stone.

"Oh, Robert. Oh, my love." she said, crying.

She could see the life that she and Robert planned slipping away. The children they planned, the loving nights, growing old together. She felt as if Providence had robbed her blind like a thief in the night.

She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up. She was face to face with Edward Fitzroy, the Duke of Richmond.

She wiped her face and bowed.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not expect anyone to be here." she said.

Edward shook his head.

"Do not fret, Lady Dudley. I am sorry for your loss. I heard it about Lord Robert's death at Court." he said.

Katherine sighed.

"Thank you so much, but you did not have to travel all this way to visit my husband. I understand you did not know him well." she said.

Edward cleared his throat.

"I beg your pardon, My Lady. I am actually here to visit another." he said.

He walked over to a tomb that was not far from Robert Dudley's final resting place.

He sighed.

"My wife, Kitty Howard, is buried here. She was fond of this church." he said.

Katherine stepped forward and made the sign of the Cross.

"I am so sorry. I remember hearing of her death. How long has it been?" she asked.

Edward placed his hand on his wife's tomb.

"Ten years this past May." he said.

Katherine looked at Kitty's tomb.

"What happened to her?" she asked.

Edward sighed.

"Childbirth. She died from tremors, after our youngest daughter, Katherine, was born." he said.

Katherine sighed.

"I so sorry." she said.

Edward gave her a smile.

"Thank you. I'll leave you to pray by your husband." he said, bowing and walking away.

Katherine turned around.

"Lord Fitzroy?" she said.

Edward turned around.

"Yes?"

Katherine sighed, as she teared up.

"Does it ever get better? Does it ever stop hurting?" she asked.

Edward took a few steps forward.

"When Kitty died, I was very unhappy and so angry. I did not understand why she had to die. I was even angry at God. But then, one day I was playing with my youngest daughter, who reminds me so much of Kitty. I remember just laughing at memories of her, instead of crying. The answer is you will always miss Lord Robert, but eventually it will stop hurting as bad and you will find your joy once more. Take care, Lady Dudley." he said, offering her another smile and walking out.

Katherine turned back towards Robert's final resting place and continued to cry. However, she also prayed that Lord Fitzroy's words were true and that one day she would be happy once more.


22 September 1562
Sintra Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
King Juan of Portugal's Bedchamber

"Your Majesty, I must confess I needed that." Maria, Dowager Princess of Portugal said, out of breath.

King Juan took several breaths, drenched in sweat. He and Maria had just spent a night together.

"Well, I am glad that you are pleased." he said.

Maria rolled over in the bed and snuggled close to Juan.

"I can see why the Queen does not hesitate to be with child. However, it is too bad that she can not please you." she said.

Juan nodded.

"Yes. I need a woman's touch, especially since the Queen prefers to act like a man." he said.

Maria sighed.

"She should let you rule Portugal. She should focus on your children. If I were your wife, I'd let you rule." she said.

Juan looked at her, quizzically.

"You are not the Queen, Maria." he said.

Maria kisses his chest

"Would it not be better if I was?" she asked.

Juan looked at her, surprised at how bold she was to speak to him like this.

He cleared his throat.

"You should return to your Chambers. Dawn is approaching." he said.

Maria looked disappointed.

"You do not wish for me to stay longer?" she asked.

Juan shook his head.

"I have a Council meeting in several hours. I need to rest for it. I will see you tomorrow night." he said.

Maria smiled and kissed Juan and put her robe on and departed his Chambers. After a few moments, he sat up.

"Guard?" he called out.

One of his guards walked in.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" he said.

"Summon the Queen to my Chambers immediately." Juan said.

The guard nodded and departed. Several moments later, Queen Catarina walked into Juan's Chambers.

"I love you, but why are you awakening me at this ungodly hour?" she asked.

Juan stood up naked and wrapped his robe around his body.

"I am sorry, darling. However, I am getting the feeling that Maria is definitely having thoughts about being Queen. She made certain remarks after our... time together." he said.

Catarina nodded her head.

"Do you think we should be worried?" she asked.

Juan shook his head.

"Not yet." he said.

Catarina sighed.

"Let her speak and continue to indulge her. Eventually she will let something slip." she said.

Juan sighed and nodded and hugged Catarina. He hated this plan of hers, but now he knew Maria was up to something, he also felt the need to protect his family.


30 September 1562
Scotland

Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, sat at her desk rubbing her swollen belly. She smiled in the joy it gave her knowing that she would soon give her husband a child, but she still feared that something would go wrong during the delivery, or worse, before she could give birth. The pain of loss from their previous child was lingering in her mind. Everyone had told her that these things happen, but she could not help but blame herself. Had she been stronger she wouldn't have stumbled leading to her fall; had she been stronger, perhaps the baby would have survived the fall like she had. Silently, a tear slipped down her face as the door to her study opened.

Francis couldn't help but see the sadness as he walked into the room. He rushed over to his wife and knelt before her. "Mary, darling, are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. "I was just thinking about the baby," she said.

"I can't tell you how happy it's made me seeing you carry our child," he admitted, placing his hand on her stomach. "But you normally seem happy about the baby coming."

"Oh, I am happy about the baby, Francis," she replied, smiling. "I was thinking about the baby we lost when your father died."

"Oh," he responded. "Mary, there is nothing. . ."

"I know," she said. "I can't help thinking that if I had handled it better, then perhaps our son would be alive today."

"You still believe it was a boy?"

Mary nodded softly. "I saw your father carrying him in my dream," she told her husband. "The baby was definitely a boy in my dream."

Francis took her hand in his and kissed it. "Mary, there was nothing that you could have done to save him," he assured her. "It was a tragic loss, one I feel quite often, as I'm sure you do too, but nothing will change what happened, or the fact that our eldest child, boy or girl, was taken back to heaven instead of allowed to be with us. We can only trust that God knows what's best." Mary nodded. "Now, He's given us this new life growing inside of you, and we can only do our best to be deserving parents of such a wonderful gift."

"I know," she said, smiling.

"Any thoughts on what this child will be?" Francis asked her.

Mary shook her head. "I often imagine that he's a boy," she admitted. "But there are times I see a daughter." She paused for a moment. "Has your mother sent word from France?"

Francis nodded. "She tells me that things are calm there for the most part, and that the entire nation is thrilled at the idea of a new heir to the throne," he informed her. "She wishes the child could be born in France but understands that it's better for you and the baby to remain here until the birth. She's asked if we've decided on a name yet."

"What have you told her?"

"That we have some ideas, but nothing is decided."

"If it's a boy, I'd still like to name him James, after my father," Mary reminded him.

"I don't know how well a King James of France would be received, darling."

"Well, he would be part Scottish," she said. "Both sides must be represented." Francis laughed gently at her equality suggestion. "We also haven't discussed what titles the child will be given."

Francis looked at her. "That would depend on if we are blessed with a son or daughter," he reminded her. "If the baby is male, then he would obviously become the Dauphin of France, as well as Duke of Orleans, and I believe the Scottish title would be Duke of Rothesay?" Mary nodded. "However, if we are blessed with a daughter, then she could only be the Duchess of Rothesay, as the heir to the Scottish throne until we have a son."

Mary shook her head. "The French claim that Scotland is barbaric, but they are the ones who refuse to admit that a woman can rule just as effectively as a man."

"Doesn't seem right, does it, my love?"

Mary just glared at him, knowing that he knew what her response would be to that.

"Well, rest easy knowing that whether the baby is a boy or girl, he or she will be equally loved and adored by their father," Francis said. "I don't care if we have a dozen girls, as long as they are all as beautiful and as intelligent as their mother." This earned him a smile from his wife, and a kick from his unborn child. Both Francis and Mary laughed at the kick.

Francis stood and offered Mary his hand, which she took, and the King and Queen of Scotland and France went upstairs to continue their discussion as they made ready for bed.


17 October 1562
Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria
Anne of Denmark, Holy Roman Empress' Bedchamber

Anne took several breaths, as sweat poured down her face. She had been in labor all day and she was hoping that it would end soon. She just knew that this would be her last labor, as she and her husband, Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand I, were both getting older.

The midwife looked up at the Empress.

"Keep pushing, My Lady. The child is nearly delivered. You are doing well." she said.

Anne kept pushing and bearing down, refusing to scream in pain. She was the Holy Roman Empress and she would not show weakness.

Finally, a loud piercing cry was heard in the room. The midwife cut the umbilical cord and took the crying infant to be bathed.

Empress Anne was bathed and out into a fresh chemise, after the afterbirth was delivered. She was exhausted after the ordeal, but was thankful that her child was alive.

The midwife carried the now quiet infant over to Anne.

"You have delivered a daughter, My Lady. She is strong and healthy." she said.

Anne took her little girl and kissed her on the forehead.

"She is exquisite. Please inform the Emperor about our daughter's birth and ask what he would love to name her." she said.

The midwife nodded and took the baby girl and she was handed to the hired wet nurse, who would be responding for feeding her for the first year of her life. The Emperor was in a very important meeting with delegates on how to deal with the Turks and he also wanted to make sure his eldest son, Ferdinand, called Andy, was secure in becoming the next Holy Roman Emperor.

Anne looked at the wet nurse. This was going to be her last child and she had never fed any of her three older children.

"Madam, hand me the child. You may return to your family. I will nurse my daughter." she said.

The wet nurse looked at Anne, in surprise. However, she knew she could not argue and handed the infant to her mother. Anne smiled and lowered her nightgown and guided the infant to her breast. The baby girl instantly latched on and began to suckle her mother's milk. Although it was a bit uncomfortable, Anne loved the feeling and the bonding with her youngest child.

Several moments later, the midwife returned and bowed.

"The Emperor is pleased about the birth and wishes you to return to strength and will visit you as soon as you can. He has said that the child will be called Judith, after one of his first ancestors." she said.

Anne smiled.

"My little Judith." she said.


19 October 1562
Spain

King Luis I of Spain sat in his office surrounded by paperwork concerning the building of a new cathedral along the French border. Despite the troubles that had plagued the Spanish where France was concerned, now that he was King of Spain and the Dauphin, Francis, had become King of France, things had been rather peaceful between the two nations. There had even been speculation that one of his children with Queen Elizabeth might marry a French Prince or Princess if Francis and his wife, Mary, Queen of Scots, were blessed with children. Luis felt secure in spending the money to build the church but wanted to maintain the peace by writing to King Francis to secure his blessing concerning the construction. He had just finished the document when a knock came at the door.

"Enter," Luis commanded. The doors opened, but instead of his page, he found himself face-to-face with the commander of the Spanish Navy. "Yes?"

The man bowed. "Majesty, I. . ." the man began but was not sure how to continue. "We. . ."

"Spit it out man," Luis commanded.

"As you know, we sent a large number of galleons to Algeria to free their port of Oran from the Ottoman tyranny that it has been under," the commander said. Luis nodded. "I have just received word that twenty-five of our ships have been sunk."

Luis crossed himself. "How many men were lost?"

"Nearly four-thousand, Majesty," the man replied.

Luis stood up and walked to the window in his study. He couldn't understand it. How could God allow four-thousand men to die needlessly. "What happened?

"Word from those who survived was that a large storm came upon them with no warning," the Commander said. "The waves were out of control, causing several ships to crash into one another, leaving the sailors helpless and in the water as their ships went down."

"So, this wasn't an attack?"

"No, Majesty," the older man replied.

Luis thought for a moment. He knew that things happened beyond their control at times, and he was raised to believe that God knew what He was doing when things like this occurred, but sometimes, even a man with as much faith as the King of Spain held was beside himself to understand the workings of their Heavenly Father. He knew he wasn't meant to understand everything, but he was left with the task of ensuring those who lost their loved ones could make sense of the events that happened for what it was worth.

Still looking out the window, Luis crossed himself and said a silent prayer for those who died. "We will honor those men as heroes," he declared. "We will set a four-day period of mourning once the families have been notified, from 30 October to 2 November, and we will celebrate their lives through remembrance."

"Majesty?" the commander questioned.

Luis turned to face him. "Let their families know when they are told of their loved ones' demise," he ordered.

The commander nodded, then turned to leave the room to make preparations.

Luis returned to his desk. He wished his wife was here to help with the plans, but the Queen was still grieving their lost child, and he would not put more on her shoulders yet. He would commission a new honor for those who died at sea in service to their country, and it would be presented to the families of the men who were lost in this tragedy. He would also order a stipend sent to help with the lost income the families would experience. It could not bring their men back to them, but perhaps it could help. It was the least he could do.

Luis wrote messages to his council, asking that they gather first thing in the morning to help with the details of these plans, including determining the amount of gold that would be granted each family. He ordered his page to hand deliver them to each member of the council, then he thought about what type of honor he could create for those who died. After several moments, he shook his head and stood once more. He went to the chapel to pray for those who had lost their lives and for guidance on how to best honor them. God knew the reasons that these men were taken from their families; the young King had faith that God would know how to guide him through this tragedy and continue to serve those who were under his care.


25 October 1562
Hampton Court, London, England
Outside Princess Elisabeth of Wales' Bedchamber

Edward flinched, as he heard Elisabeth scream in agony. Her pains of labor had begun late in the night and it was now late morning. The sun was high in the sky and Edward was still in his night clothes.

"What is taking so long?" he asked aloud.

King Harry smiled.

"It has been eight hours, son. This is your first child. It will sometimes take long periods of time." he said.

Queen Lillian walked over to her stepson.

"It took me awhile to have Mary. Everything will be good, Edward. Soon you will be holding your child." she said.

Edward smiled and nodded.

"God blessed me with Elisabeth. I can not bear to be without her." he said, worriedly.

The midwife came out covered in blood.

"The Princess is alive. The child is nearly out, but coming feet first." she said, running back inside.

Edward fell to his knees, clutching his rosary. He did not know much about birth, but he knew that a child should not be delivered feet first. He started to pray for the life of his first child and his precious wife. He could not lose either of them.

Nearly an hour passed, with Edward praying and Harry holding Lillian's hand. This was the first childb of his heir and he could not lie that he hoped he could see the next two generations secure.

Suddenly, a loud cry was heard. Edward made the sign of the Cross and stood to his feet. He had his rosary clutched tightly in his hands.

After several moments, the door opened and the midwife was wiping her hands.

"The Princess has been delivered of a healthy daughter. I do not believe the backwards birth affected the baby." she said.

Edward began to grin.

"I have a daughter? I am a father." he said proudly.

Harry hugged his son.

"We are so proud of you." he said.

Edward turned to the midwife.

"Tell my wife I love her and I will see her, after she has had a chance to rest. Please tell her to call her Elizabeth, but we will all call her Lizzie." he said.

The midwife nodded.

Edward smiled at his father and Stepmother.

"She is not a boy, but I love her. Whether she has a brother or not,she will always be my world." he said.

Harry smiled, knowing that he didn't go anywhere with his son and upbringing.


9 November 1562
Alcazar of Seville, Seville, Spain
Queen Elizabeth of Spain's Bedchamber

Queen Elizabeth, Lady Sancha de Mendoza and Princess Giovanna were sitting in Elizabeth's Chambers, playing cards. The three women normally loved to have fun together, Elizabeth was unusually quiet. At first, Sancha and Giovanna thought she was grieving the four thousand lives on the Spanish fleet, but it was definitely more than that bothering her.

Sancha cleared her throat.

"Are you well, Your Majesty?" she asked.

Elizabeth nodded her head, without making eye contact.

"Yes, I am well. What do you ask?" she asked.

"Normally, you are not this quiet." Sancha said, gently.

Elizabeth looked at her.

"Sancha, I will be fine. I just want to finish our card game." she said.

Giovanna touched Elizabeth's hand.

Elizabeth looked at her.

"What is it?" she asked.

Giovanna sighed.

"It was not your fault." she said.

"What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked.

Giovanna placed her cards down and placed another hand on Elizabeth's hand

"Losing the baby was not your fault. You are a wonderful mother and an even better Queen." she said.

Elizabeth had tears develop in her eyes.

"I would have been giving birth to her this month. I feel like such failure. It is my duty to secure the Succession of Spain and I lost a child." she said.

Giovanna firmly grabbed her.

"You have secured Spain. You have three healthy and legitimate sons and three daughters for alliances and you still have the youth to have more children. Forgive me, Your Majesty, but the number of children you have does not make you successful in my mind. We are at peace with France and you have maintained a relationship with Naples and Sicily and now we have are going to have trade with Cyprus, Crete, Imereti and even Russia. The Treasury, which was nearly depleted when you took the Throne is so full that you could give a dowry to every daughter in Spain and you would still be secure. It was your idea to tell the King about more explorations and now we have found gold and silver in the mountains in the place they call Argentina, the River of Silver. You have continued the work of our mighty ancestor, Isabel de Castilla and that is what Spain looks at." she said.

Sancha nodded at Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes. She was highly proud of her friend and Queen.

Elizabeth wiped her eyes, but she realized her friends were right. She still had work to do and a destiny to fulfill. She would always miss her lost daughter and she would pray for her everyday of her life, but she knew that she had to let go and finally move on.


15 November 1562
Stafford Castle, Stafford, England
Lady Margaret Marlowe, Countess of Stafford's Bedchamber

"Mary, your sewing has improved, darling." Lady Margaret Marlowe said, as she smiled.

Seven year old Lady Mary Marlowe smiled at her mother.

"Thank you, Mama." she said.

Six year old Edmund looked up at his mother.

"Mama, my writing is better. My tutor says so." he said.

Margaret took her son's writing and looked over it. She smiled at her only son.

"Eddie, you misspelled this word here. However, I do know that your French is wonderful. I want you to stop trying to compete with your sisters. All three of you are talented." she said.

Edmund nodded and went back to his lessons. Margaret walked over to a nearby window and took a deep breath. Her husband, Lord John Marlowe, the Earl of Stafford, was currently at Court. She rubbed her swollen stomach. She was currently expecting her fourth child with John and her condition impeded here for the long travel to London.

One of her maids walked up and bowed to her.

"Your Grace, I just want to inform you that Lady Anne has awoken from her afternoon nap. What would you like her to do?" she asked.

Margaret smiled at the mention of her four year old daughter and youngest child.

"Prepare a warm bath for her and dress her in the dark red gown that I made for her." she instructed.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain and took a few deep breaths, so she would not frighten her children.

"Lady Ursula?" she called.

The children's governess walked in.

"Yes, Your Grace?" she asked.

"Take the children to their Chambers and fetch the midwife. My time has come and it is rapid." she said.

The governess moved quickly, as Margaret was helped to bed by her maids.


Margaret was trying her best to catch her breath. Her labor had been short, but difficult. The baby had been her largest so far and required assistance in being delivered. However, she was proud of her new daughter and she could tell that she was strong, due to her loud cries.

The midwife brought the crying child over.

"There are no I'll effects from the birth, Your Grace." she said.

Margaret smiled taking her newborn daughter.

"Thank you for your services. You may see my comptroller for your pay. Also, please see to it that a message is dispatched to London immediately, informing the Earl of our daughter's birth. The baptism will also take place in three day's time." she said.

The midwife nodded her head.

"What is the child to be called?" she asked.

Margaret looked at her daughter. She was surprised and happy to see that her daughter had flaming small wisps of hair, just like she did as an infant. She finally had a child who resembled her

"She will be called Margery." she said.


23 November 1562
Caserta Palace, Naples, Italy
The Great Hall

"Did he have to start the construction now, dear daughter?" Catalina, Dowager Queen of Naples asked her daughter-in-law.

Queen Adriana smiled.

"You know Alfonso. Once he has his mind set on something, he will not stop until he has accomplished it." she said.

Catalina nodded.

"I am well aware. However, this is the worst time to be moving palaces, just to satisfy his architectural desires. He could have done it in the summer." she said.

Adriana took her mother-in-law by the hand.

"We will be residing at the Castel Nuovo. It is not that far from here." she said.

Catalina scoffed.

"That drafty monstrosity that we have to call a residence? I refuse to stay there. I will go to one of my villas by the sea. The air is much better there. I have not fallen ill at any of them." she said.

Adriana laughed.

"You know he wants us all together. He loves that all eight of our children are under one roof. We even have our only two grandchildren here with us." she said.

Catalina nodded her head.

"I understand, but we need to stay in a grand Palace. You have a large family and the courtiers have their families as well." she said.

Adriana nodded her head.

"You are right that we do need room." she said.

Suddenly, King Alfonso walked up, smiling.

"Darling, Mother, there you are. What do you think of the changes I am making to the Palace?" he asked.

Catalina looked at her eldest son.

"Could you not have done all of this in July?" she asked.

Alfonso looked at his mother, but before he was able to speak, Adriana touched his chest, affectionately.

"It looks beautiful, sweetheart." she said, as she looked up at the workers constructing the new beams in the ceiling.

Alfonso kissed her hand.

"Thank you, darling. I want to show you the Chapel. When it is done, the roof will look just like the Duomo in Florence. Remember when we went there for the Grand Duke's wedding years ago?" he asked.

Queen Adriana nodded her head.

"Of course I do." she said.

Alfonso kissed Adriana on the hand and they began to walk to the chapel. Dowager Queen Catalina remained six steps behind her son and daughter-in-law, as Royal Protocol demanded. She smiled, remembering her own marriage and how she missed her own husband, the late King Federico, who had now been dead for twenty-two years.

Suddenly, a voice called from above:

"LOOK OUT BELOW!"

Catalina looked up, only to see a large wooden beam crashing through the air and she left out a scream of terror as it connected with Queen Adriana's head, sending the forty-two year old Queen tumbling to the ground.

Alfonso, who was unharmed, knelt down at his wife's side.

"ADRIANA!" he screamed.

Catalina looked at the scene horrified, as Adriana's ladies-in-waiting crowded around their Queen.

She grabbed one by the arm.

"Stop screaming like a fool and fetch the physician!" she commanded.

As the younger woman ran away, Catalina knelt down to aid her daughter-in-law.

"Adriana?" she gently said.

Adriana groaned and slowly lifted her head from the floor, resting on her elbow. Everyone could see that there was a large gash right at the top of her forehead and it was oozing an alarming amount of blood.

"What happened to me?" she asked, weakly

Alfonso kissed her cheek.

"There was an accident. However, you do not have to worry." he said.

Catalina nodded her head.

"You will be just fine, my dear. Alfonso, we must get her to her Chambers, so the physician can look at her." she said.

Alfonso nodded his head.

"I will carry her." he said.

Adriana held her hand up.

"No, I will walk. Just please help me up." she said.

The remaining Ladies-in-waiting looked at their King. They were to listen to their Queen in all things, but this was a different circumstance.

Alfonso nodded and the Ladies, helped Adriana to her feet. One held a handkerchief over the wound, so Adriana would not get flood in her eyes. Alfonso and Catalina followed closely behind until they reached Adriana's chambers.


Queen Adriana of Naples' Bedchamber

The physician was cleaning the gash in Queen Adriana's forehead.

"You are very fortunate, Your Majesty. That beam was very large and you did not lose consciousness. That is a good sign. How so you feel now?" he asked.

Adriana sighed.

"I have a slight headache, but I feel fine. I am just a little tired." she said.

The physician nodded.

"That is to be expected. I want you to remain in bed for several days. The dizziness should subside by then. I also suggest you drink lots of wine."

Adriana smirked.

"A most welcome prescription." she said.

The physician smiled discreetly at the Queen's humor.

Alfonso cleared his throat.

"So the Queen will recover?" he asked.

The physician nodded.

"Yes, she is conscious and that is always a good sign after a head injury." he said.

Alfonso smiled.

"Thank you. You are excused. You may send in my mother. " he said.

A few moments later, Dowager Queen Catalina walked in.

"My dear, I thank the Lord you are well." she said.

Adriana smiled.

"Where are my children?" she asked.

"Only Giovanni, Lucrezia and Maria are here. The other children are at my villa." Catalina said.

Adriana nodded her head.

"Good. I want to see my children and then I want to rest." she said.

Catalina nodded and went to get her three oldest grandchildren. Giovanni, Lucrezia and Maria walked in.

Lucrezia walked up first.

"Mother, are you well? We heard about the accident." she said.

Adriana smiled.

"I will be fine. I just need rest is all. You all do not need to worry about me." she said.

Maria walked up.

"Mother, I was so scared." she said.

Adriana took her seventeen year old daughter by the hand.

"Calm down. I will recover." she said.

Giovanni cleared his throat.

"I am glad you are well, Mother. I was deeply worried." he said.

Adriana smiled at her oldest son.

"I love you all. Do not fret over me." she said.

Lucrezia stood up and almost lost her footing, catching herself.

Adriana, despite her injury, became worried about her child.

"Lucrezia?" she said.

Lucrezia smiled.

"Do not fret, Mother. I was going to tell you and Father tonight at dinner. I am with child again." she said.

Alfonso stood up and laughed and Adriana smiled.

"That's wonderful news. When is the child due?" she asked.

Lucrezia smiled at her parents and siblings.

"I am due to give birth in June." she said.

Catalina hugged her granddaughter.

" That is wonderful news, darling. Now, we should all let the Queen rest. All of this excitement is not good for her. We will see her in the morning." she said.

All three of Adriana's children kissed her good night and left her Chambers, followed by Catalina.

Alfonso kissed Adriana.

"Do you want me to leave? I don't mind staying with you." he said.

Adriana smiled.

"I do not need an audience to watch me sleep. This headache will subside with a wonderful night of sleeping. However, please do join me here for breakfast." she said.

Alfonso nodded and kissed her and began to leave her Chambers.

"Alfonso?"

Alfonso turned around.

Adriana smiled.

"I love you." she said.

Alfonso smiled.

"I love you too." he said.


24 November 1562

King Alfonso sat at the table outside his wife's Chambers. He was waiting for Adriana to awaken and they would start the day together.

Suddenly, his mother, Catalina, walked in.

"Alfonso, what are you doing up this early?" she asked.

Alfonso took a sip of his wine.

"I wanted to be here when Adriana awakens. We planned to start the day, but I guess she decided to sleep in a bit longer." he said.

Catalina looked at her son.

"That does not sound like her. How about I wake the children up and we can all have a nice family breakfast?" she asked.

Alfonso smiled.

"That is a wonderful idea, Mother. That will definitely cheer her up." he said.

Catalina nodded.

"I will do that immediately. You should wake Adriana. I know she dismissed her ladies-in-waiting last night, so that is probably the reason she has been sleeping so long." she said, as she left the room.

Alfonso stood from the table and walked over to Adriana's door to her private Bedchamber. He opened the door gently and smiled as he saw her still lying in bed.

"It is time to wake up, my love. I have instructed the cook to make those sausages you like." he said, as he opened her curtains, letting the sun in.

He turned and took a look at Adriana. He found it odd that she was sleeping on her back, when she normally slept on her side. She also had not even acknowledged his presence.

"Adriana?" he asked.

He steeped forward and shook her a bit, but found she was nearly cold to the touch and me looked at her, finally noticing that there was blood pooled around her ear.

He began to panic.

"Adriana, wake up darling. Wake up!" he said, as he began to shake her a bit.

Queen Adriana did not budge and King Alfonso began to cry, realizing why she was not responding to him.

"NO! ADRIANA!" he screamed, as he grabbed her body and began to cry.

Several moments later, Catalina and her grandchildren walked in and Catalina was shocked.

"Oh no." she said, as she made the sign of the Cross.

Lucrezia and Maria began to weep and both made their way to their mother's bed, weeping over her lifeless form. Prince Giovanni looked at the scene in disbelief. Prince Owen, with his own tears forming, led Lucrezia out, trying to calm her for the sake of their unborn child.

Catalina walked over to her weeping son and gently put her hands on his heaving shoulders.

"Son, let her go. Come now. There is nothing we can do." she said.

Alfonso clutched his late wife harder and weeped harder.

Catalina, trying to keep herself composed, grabbed him.

"Alfonso, get up. We have to make the announcement. There is nothing we can do now." she said.

Alfonso continued to weep, but finally let Adriana's body go and guided Maria out of the room, both weeping over their dreadful loss, followed by Giovanni.

Catalina, taking another look at Adriana, finally let her tears flow.

She knelt down and kisses Adriana's forehead.

"Goodbye, my darling." she simply said, before leaving the room to help make arrangements for her burial.


1 December 1562
England

Princess Elisabeth sat in her confinement chambers, holding her one month old daughter. She couldn't believe that this little baby was hers; a product of the love she felt for her husband, Edward, Prince of Wales. The tiny girl's hair was a soft mix of auburn and blonde, despite her mother's darker French tones, and that the baby's eyes were blue. Her ladies said that the eyes of a newborn were always blue but would change over time. Elisabeth secretly hoped that her daughter's eyes would stay blue like her husband's. She thought that the babe was perfect in every way.

The Princess of Wales was so taken by her daughter that she didn't notice the door to her chamber open. Although she was still in confinement, her husband had a way of sneaking into her rooms to see her and their daughter daily. She only noticed his presence when he touched baby Elizabeth with his forefinger on her tiny cheek.

"How are my girls fairing today?" he asked softly.

"We're fine," Elisabeth answered. "She was cooing earlier."

"Was she?"

Elisabeth nodded. "Edward, I am sure that most mother's feel this way about their children, but I think our daughter is the most beautiful child in the world."

Edward smiled at his young wife. He couldn't help but agree with her, but she was probably right in thinking that most parents saw their children that way. "I wanted to come here and let you know that Father's advisors are already planning possible betrothals for her."

"She's not even two months old!" Elisabeth exclaimed.

"I know darling," he replied, "but this is how it's done." He kissed his wife's cheek. "Take comfort in knowing that they are not making any hard decisions on the matter yet." Elisabeth looked at her husband with some confusion. "Not to worry. They are waiting to see if your sister-in-law, Mary, Queen of Scots and France has a son or daughter. If her child is a boy, they want to negotiate a match between Elizabeth here and their son."

Elisabeth shook her head. "I love my brother dearly, Edward, but they are cousins," she reminded him.

"Yes," he acknowledged, "they are, but the nobles think that allying themselves with both France and Scotland in one go would be best."

Elisabeth shook her head again. "Their union would require a dispensation from Rome," Elisabeth stated before going silent for a moment. "And what if she's the only child we have, Edward? What if she ends up Queen of England? How will the people feel then about sharing their Queen with both Scotland and France?"

Edward looked at his wife. Elisabeth had never shown an interest in the political side of running a nation before, but it clearly troubled her now. "We will figure that out together if it happens," he assured her. "However, we are both young, and I do not see her being our only child, Elisabeth, if you get my meaning." He looked at his wife rather lustfully.

"Edward!" she exclaimed, pretending to be shocked that he would even admit such a thing so soon after their daughter's birth.

"What?" he asked. "Can a man not admit that he loves being with his wife in every way?"

Elisabeth just shook her head at him, playfully. She turned her attention to her daughter, wondering what their futures might hold and desperately hoping that there would be more children in her future, if for no other reason than to keep her little girl out of the political spotlight of Europe.


24 December 1562
Scotland

Francis, King of France and King Consort of Scotland, sat on his throne in the Scottish palace of Holyrood watching the courtiers dance. Christmas was a time of celebration in Scotland every year, but this year was even more special as their young Queen, Mary I, was due to give birth to the new heir any day now. She had been in confinement for nearly eight weeks, and the midwives and physicians were on their toes daily to attend her.

Her father had lost two sons prior to Mary's birth, and the nation had been on edge wondering if the late King would die childless, though none dared to say it out loud, for it was treason to imagine the death of the King. Mary's ladies were also concerned about their Queen, as they knew that many women did not survive childbirth.

As Francis watched the men and women of the Scottish court celebrate the holiday, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his wife's confinement chambers. It was something that men typically did not witness, despite his having snuck into her rooms a few times. He didn't stay long, but he couldn't help himself. He missed his wife desperately. He was totally lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the page approach the thrones and was startled when the man touched his shoulder.

Francis sat upright at once. "Yes?' he questioned, giving the page permission to speak.

"I was asked to inform your Majesty that the Queen is in labor," the page whispered.

Francis nodded and dismissed him. He stood slowly, not to alarm anyone, and waved to the musicians who had stopped playing when he rose from his throne. They continued. Francis walked out of the throne room as calmly as possible, then nearly ran up the stairs to the chambers his wife had occupied for the past two months. He stopped at the doorway, then knocked. Lady Mary Livingston opened the door slightly, then stepped outside.

"How is she?" Francis asked.

"Her labor started about three hours ago, Majesty," Mary told him. "All is well at the moment. The midwife has said she expects this to be a short labor, as the babe is already crowning." Francis smiled. A short labor meant that Mary would have a less difficult time of it than normal, and he was glad of that. "I will keep you informed, sire," Lady Mary said before disappearing back into the room.

Francis went to the window at the end of the hallway, not too far from the door where his wife was bringing their first child into the world. He knelt down and prayed that both Mary and the child would survive, and that their son or daughter would be healthy. When he finished, he crossed himself and went to sit in one of the chairs across from the door. He couldn't sit still. Several hours passed before Lady Mary appeared again.

"Majesty," she said, "your child has been born and is thriving thus far."

"And my wife?" Francis asked nervously.

"The Queen is well, though tired," she informed him. "The midwife is finishing up, then you will be allowed in to see them both."

Francis nodded, and Lady Mary went back inside before he remembered to ask if he had a son or daughter. He shook his head at his foolishness, then looked at the clock standing in the hallway. It was well past one in the morning. It was Christmas day, and it was also the day of his child's birth. He crossed himself again, feeling even more blessed than before.

Finally, the doors opened, and the midwife walked out. "Her Majesty is well, sire," the older woman told him, "as is your child."

"Is it a boy or girl?" Francis asked her.

The woman shook her head. "The Queen asked that she be the one to tell you," she replied. Francis nodded, handed her a sack of gold coins, then wished her a Happy Christmas as she left. He watched her walk down the stairs, then turned to the door to his wife's rooms.

He opened the door slowly and peeked inside. He saw his wife sitting up against her pillows with a small bundle in her arms. It was the most amazing sight he had ever seen in his life to that point. The King of France and Scotland walked over to his wife's bedside with unshed tears in his eyes and sat down next to his family.

Mary looked at her husband and smiled. "Francis," she said gently, "we have a son."

Francis looked at the bundle in her arms and couldn't keep the tears from falling any longer. "A son?" he questioned. Mary just nodded and placed their baby boy into the arms of his father for the first time. "What have you named him?"

Mary shook her head. "I want you to name our firstborn," she replied.

Francis looked at his son for several moments before saying anything. "I want to call him Robert."

"Robert?" Mary questioned. "That's not a very French sounding name."

"No, it isn't," Francis said. "He was born on Christmas day in Scotland, a nation that is special to me in more ways than one. Not only is it the place of my son's birth, but also my wife's. I may be French, but without Scotland, I would not have this perfect life that I have now. Robert was the first Stuart to rule, and by that, you are her Queen now. Without King Robert, you would not be my wife, as I would have married someone else. Essentially, he gave me my own heart to cherish for eternity, and I choose to honor that by giving our firstborn son his name." Francis looked at her, tears rolling down his cheeks. Mary held out her hand to him, and he joined her at the side of her bed, taking it.

"Prince Robert it is then," Mary said, her tears mingling with his. Mary looked at Lady Mary Beaton and nodded. The lady went to fetch the court herald, who arrived shortly after, and was told to inform the court that the heir to Scotland and France had arrived and his name was Prince Robert.

"Majesty," Lady Mary Livingston said after a time, "you need to rest. Let me take Prince Robert to the nursery."

Queen Mary just shook her head. "I will keep the young Prince with me for the night. His father and I will look after him." Mary's ladies looked at one another, knowing this was not typical behavior, but then nodded and curtsied before leaving the room.

Queen Mary slid down under the covers more, holding her newborn son close to her. Francis went around to the other side of the bed, and though it broke with tradition, he lay on the bed next to his wife and son. They lay talking of the future, with their son between them, until neither could keep their eyes open anymore, and together, the King and Queen of France and Scotland fell into a perfectly peaceful sleep.


29 December 1562
Amalienborg Palace, Copenhagen, Denmark
The Banquet Hall

The bells were ringing all over the city and the people were enjoying the festivities. The younger brother of King Frederick I, Prince Philip, had married Princess Anne of Cyprus, the younger sister of King Janius. The marriage was a bold move, since Philip was a devout Lutheran and Anne was a Catholic with Orthodox sympathies, due to her Greek origin.

The young couple made their way to the Palace for their grand reception. Prince Philip was average looking, but Princess Anne was extremely beautiful, with her chestnut hair and green eyes and flawless skin. The courtiers were all astounded at her beauty, but she also adopted the Danish fashion and had picked a few Danish ladies to serve her.

The herald announced their appearance and the doors opened and the young newlyweds walked in, hand-in-hand. Everyone looked in awe at the the couple, who were dressed in their finest. Prince Philip wore a crimson doublet with black plants lines with cloth of gold on the sides of the legs. Princess Anne wore a lovely crimson gown with cloth of gold and rubies and diamonds lining the bodice.

Philip and Anne made it to their seats and smiled at each other.

"The Palace is very beautiful, Philip." Anne said.

Philip nodded.

"This is our family's winter Palace. Plenty of good memories are here. I hope that you and I will be able to make good memories with you as well." he said.

Anne smiled.

"I am sure that we will. I hope to have a loving marriage." she said.

Philip nodded his head.

"I hope that we make each other happy as well. I also hope that we have children soon." he said.

Anne smiled and took a sip of her wine.

"My family is very fertile. My mother gave birth to seven children." she said.

Philip looked at Anne.

"What about the disease that afflicts your youngest brother?" he asked.

Anne sighed. Her youngest brother, Prince Raul, was afflicted with a condition that caused any injury he had to bleed excessively. It was honestly a miracle that he managed to live.

"I am sure that we will not have that issue." she assured him.

Philip nodded and touched her hand. They both enjoyed their wedding banquet and the dances that followed. Finally, around midnight, the young couple excused themselves to their Bedchamber for the remainder of the night.


31 December 1562
Imereti

The court of Imereti was lively and the hazelnut trees surrounded the ballroom of the palace. Prince George, the heir to the throne was gathered with some of the higher-ranking nobles of the court, while his father, King Bagrat, was talking with one of his advisors about a situation in Moldavia. The ladies of the court were dancing in celebration of the coming year; all but one. Princess Aimee, the crown princess, was sitting at the head table playing with the food that had been piled on her plate. She was not in the best of spirits, but no one had noticed.

Princess Aimee was not born to the royal family of Imereti. She had married their heir, Prince George, and their marriage was a happy one, though it was not what Aimee had dreamed about growing up in the palaces of Cyprus. She had wanted to believe that her husband would love her above all else, but George was not the type of man who would put his family first unless necessary. His duty was to his nation, and as the future King, no one could change that reality.

Aimee was watching the ladies of the court dancing when her husband approached her and sat beside her. She turned to him and tried to smile but could only manage a slight grin. "Happy New Year, husband," she said.

George smiled and echoed her greeting, then kissed her hand. "Some of the nobles have noticed that you are not celebrating with their wives," he said, gently. "Is everything alright?"

Aimee nodded. "I am fine."

"Would you like to join the other ladies?" he asked.

Aimee nodded but did not stand. "I would very much so like to, my beloved," she told him, "but I do not think it would be a wise decision."

George looked at his wife rather confused. "Are you not feeling well?"

Aimee shook her head. "Unfortunately, no, I am not feeling up to dancing at the moment."

"Shall I fetch the court physician?" he asked.

Aimee shook her head again. "I have already seen him," she admitted. George waited silently for her to explain what was going on. He had lost his first wife when they were both young, and he did not want to lose Aimee. "Apparently, I am with child once more, husband," she told him, a childish grin appearing on her beautiful face. George stared at her, bewildered.

He looked at her stomach, then back to her face. "A baby?"

Aimee just nodded.

"We're going to be parents again?"

Aimee nodded.

"Oh! Sweetheart!" George exclaimed, kissing her cheek. "This is wonderful news! We must tell the court."

Before Aimee could object to his making the announcement, his father appeared behind the crown prince. "Tell the court what?" the King of Imereti asked.

George turned to his father. "Aimee has just informed me that we are expecting a new addition to the family, Father," George explained.

King Bagrat looked from his son to his daughter-in-law and beamed. "Well, that's the best news I could have hoped to hear tonight, daughter," he said, kissing Aimee's hand. "We most definitely must share this news with the courtiers." He turned to the table and got everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," the King began, "it is with the greatest of pleasure that I inform you that Princess Aimee, Crown Princess of Imereti, is once again with child! May God in His infinite wisdom bless them with a son!"

The court applauded and several nearby nobles congratulated the Prince and Princess. Aimee did her best to smile, but she couldn't help but worry, as any mother-to-be would. After several minutes, she began to feel overwhelmed with the attention, so she did the one thing she could. Aimee put a hand on her husband's arm gently, excusing herself to rest, which no one objected to considering her condition.

Princess Aimee made her way to their bedchambers and crawled under the covers after changing out of her dress. She lay down on her pillows, then began to cry. There was so much pressure to produce heirs that she felt her resolve buckle under it. She could only hope that her child was a son and that the King wouldn't be disappointed, but more than anything as a mother, she only wanted her child, whether it was a boy or girl, to be healthy and survive.

A/N Thank you all so much for your patience. The holidays were hectic, but we will definitely be doing our best to upload more quickly. The timeline for 1563 has already been created, so the scenes are in the process of being written. Please Read and Review! Chapter Sixty-Five will be up soon!