Castel of Sant'Angelo, Rome
1466
His eyes are swift, quickly reading the scribbled words on the white piece of parchment and then turning to face the two men that stand before him; anxious expressions plastered on his face. It pains him to admit that reading such a letter has left him somewhat ill-indisposed and anxious as well. He has always prided himself in being knowledgeable in matters of different realms, but it seems he was wrong.
"How come was I not informed of this matter?" His Holiness, Pope Paul II, asks his nephew, Cardinal Zeno, in a hiss.
"It has been rumored that the King is dismayed by the lack of heirs in his marriage, but there was no information of the sort," Cardinal Zeno answers; the faintest grimace marring his face. It is easy to tell his uncle looks most displeased at being caught by surprise, and he feels responsible. They are men of God, but they must never disregard matters of men, especially Kings.
The young King Niklaus has been known for his jovial disposition ever since he took the crown from Richard; preferring to throw feasts and celebrations instead of engaging in more pious acts. He has also been known for his voracious appetite for the fairer sex. While Paul would prefer that the King set a better example to his own subjects when it comes to spiritual guidance, he isn't naïve. As a King, Niklaus is entitled to mistresses in order to satisfy his out-of-ordinary desires. And not even him, the Head of the Church, would deny the King his rights.
However, this is far graver than one could ever expect. The King seeks to have his marriage to Queen Aurora annulled so he can marry another. Mistresses and bastards are one thing, but this is different.
"The King asks for an annulment," the Pope says, looking down at the missives sprawled on his oak desk.
"An annulment? On what grounds? His marriage to Queen Aurora is lawful in the eyes of God!" Cardinal Sisto cries out; indignation present in his voice as his round and pale face takes on a reddish hue. He is tired of royals believing themselves to be more powerful than God, wishing to have their every sinful demand answered.
"If I may, Your Holiness?" Edward Foxe, Bishop of Hereford, speaks up with some hesitation. Nobody can blame him. After all, which man of God will not be nervous when standing in the presence of the Pope himself?
Paul nods, consenting to hear whatever argument the bishop has concocted to speak in the defense of the King.
"His Grace, King Niklaus wishes to have his marriage annulled on the grounds that his wife is incapable of siring children," he says, proceeding to rummage through his leather pouch to produce a rolled up parchment. "The Queen's physician wrote a document attesting to that fact."
The Pope can barely hide his displeasure; his lips now a pale thin line as he considers the words from Bishop Foxe. Clearly, the English King and his advisors are far from stupid. Just a few months ago, Paul himself consented to the annulment of Dom Felipe's marriage to the daughter of the Duke of Bavaria after the Portuguese King alleged the same motive. They probably believed it would be a simple decision for the Pope and he would rule in the favor.
"I see he seeks a dispensation as well," Paul comments with a frown, somewhat confused by this request. As a King, he is due to marry a Princess of a foreign country, from another established and respected vampire dynasty, and not likely to have any familial ties to her. "I imagine the King already has an intended bride in mind?"
Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, gulps in anxiety before speaking up.
"Yes, Your Holiness. His Grace wishes to marry Lady Bonnie Bennett. She is the daughter of the Earl of Derby, and quite virtuous. It is said that her Grace, Queen Charlotte of France, who is known for her humility and piety, was quite taken with her," Bishop Gardiner recites, being careful to remember all of the important qualities.
"The King wishes to marry one of his subjects?" Pope Paul asks, wishing to keep his composure, but not able to conceal his surprise.
Paul believed the English King had managed to make a more powerful match if he was willing to break a crucial alliance with France. After all, it is known that King Louis has played an important role in the establishment of King Niklaus' reign. He would understand if the King wished to marry the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, who has an army powerful enough to squash the remaining werewolf threat.
But the daughter of a simple Earl, not even a Duke with fortunes and lands? That decision makes no sense to him.
Both bishops exchange a tense look, not sure how to respond. They are aware of how unprecedented the situation, and as such, it is difficult to know the way to proceed and to characterize the relationship to others.
"The Lady Bennett may be His Grace's subject, but she is a graceful, beautiful and humble lady, and he finds her to be deserving of the title of his wife."
Paul chuckles in amusement, not at all surprised that both bishops seem to be extolling the lady's qualities.
"Well, did you bring Lady Bennett's genealogical tree?" Cardinal Sisto asks with some impatience, noticing the way the bishops gulp in hesitation. "His Holiness will have to examine it before issuing his decision."
"Of course," Bishop Foxe stutters as he hands Cardinal Sisto the requested document. A brief explanation is already planned in his mind, but the pointed look from Cardinal Zeno is enough to let him know what should be his next step. "If you will excuse us."
Bishop Foxe and Bishop Gardiner kiss the Pope's ring and respectfully bow, before leaving the room.
"Oh, the impertinence of this English King!" Cardinal Sisto huffs as soon as the door closes, much to the Pope's amusement. "His union with the Queen is sacred."
"Giovanni, you must learn if you ever wish to become a Pope one day," Paul starts to say, patiently unfurling the parchment over his desk. "Kings and Emperors do not behave the same as common men, and as such, their wishes are different. Yes, his union with Queen Aurora is lawful and recognized by the Church, but we must tread carefully on this matter."
"Certainly Your Holiness does not intend to grant the annulment?" Sisto wonders with a confused frown. In his opinion, the English King's petition should be outright denied.
"The English succession is quite an important matter, Giovanni. King Niklaus is right to be concerned with his wife's inability to have children, for another civil will be devastating," Paul reminds him; eyebrows furrowed at the thought of civil unrest in England.
Too many senseless deaths for a crown and a succession crisis in such a young dynasty would certainly trigger another war, one that could most likely drag many other countries. With war comes famine and plague, something Europe cannot afford to go through again. Granting the King an annulment so he can marry another and secure the succession is an easy decision.
At least it would be if the wife was not the sister to the King of France, a most generous King who has always supported the Church, even when other vampires tried to push for reformation. Agreeing to the removal of Queen Aurora's crown is certain to spoil his relationship with France.
"Your Holiness, before you make any decision, it is wise you see this," Cardinal Zeno advises, pointing to the parchment. The Pope turns his eyes to the object and sighs after reading.
This delicate matter has shown the potential to become even more complicated.
Knebworth House
Hertfordshire, 1466
The English countryside is beautiful, especially in the spring with colorful gardens filled with blooming flowers and ripe fruits falling from the trees. It is home; familiar and soothing, but part of her misses France. Years as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Charlotte caused her to see how lonely her life was. Back in Château d'Amboise, Bonnie was surrounded by laughter and dancing. Now there's only Bess, Dash, her new adorable pup, and her Lady Grandmother.
She is not unhappy, far from it, but each day seems to cause her more and more anxiety. Her father, the Earl of Derby, is on a diplomatic mission through the German duchies, and her Grandmother refuses to discuss the matter of her betrothal in his absence. The silence, the anticipation seems to corrode her from the inside. And her secret, oh her sweet, dangerous secret is just so hard to keep. Bonnie wants to share with Bess the way her heart skips a beat when the King sets his gaze upon her or when he brushes his lips against the back of her hand. Most importantly, Bonnie wants to tell her Lady Grandmother to stop searching for a suitable match, for she is already betrothed to the King.
Bonnie much desires to tell the truth and finally be free to live, but she knows she cannot.
If I could bring you to London tomorrow, I would. I would shroud you in golden robes and parade you through the streets of London for all to see the woman who stole their King's heart. But I cannot. The people have to see you as my wide and legitimate queen, not as my mistress. That is why we must be patient. I won't have anyone questioning your legitimacy as my true Queen. London is dreary and cold without your presence by my side and I ache with anxiety to be with you again. It will not be long until you are in my arms. Please accept my humble gift to keep me in your thoughts.
Your most loving servant,
Niklaus Rex.
Bonnie read his letter for the fourth time this morning; heart still fluttering with the bittersweet memory of their last moment together. She was so excited then, nearly delirious with happiness. The King of England, a gentle, charming man wanted to take her as his wife. What lady would not swoon with delight? It would all be a dream if it wasn't for one big detail.
Months have passed, more than enough time for the Pope to issue a dispensation, more than enough time to prepare the whole of London for a royal wedding twice over. Yet, she is still here, hidden away in the countryside, yearning for letters and dreading his silence. Aside from him urging for patience, declarations of love, and silly wishes, there is no mention of plans to take her to London. Perhaps there will be no plan for her to join him in London, for them to finally be wed.
Her heart aches; a dull feeling that spreads to the rest of her body as she realizes her own naiveté. The King is married to Princess Aurora, the sister of a king and powerful ally, while she is a witch and part of a family that supported the werewolves in the past. How could she have ever believed she would be a good enough option to become the next Queen of England?
Her distraction with the letter and unpleasant feelings distract her from hearing her Lady Grandmother's hurried steps against the hard floor as she enters her room.
"My child, I have the merriest news!" Sheila exclaims with a bright grin that is much unlike her. Her Lady Grandmother is usually very proper and composed, and not one to express her joy.
Taken by surprise, Bonnie barely has the time to hide the letter; crumpling the paper and sliding it under a book.
"What is it, Grandmother?" Bonnie asks, now filled with genuine curiosity as she looks over Lady Grandmother. "Is father finally coming home?"
"Not yet, he still has to sort some issues, but he writes to me about a proposal he has received from the Earl of Leicester!"
As much as Bonnie tries to conceal it, she can feel herself becoming faint; the blood rushing to her head at a rapid pace. A proposal from a nobleman she has never seen. The title of Earl of Leicester may sound exciting, but Bonnie is only filled with dread and anxiety. This was never supposed to happen.
Niklaus was supposed to ride to Hertfordshire and take her to London before her father could act on his plan to have her betrothed.
"A proposal?" Bonnie stutters, clasping her hands together to will them into stillness. "So soon?"
"Well, not that soon, my dear. You are in your twenties, and by the rules of society, you should have been married for years," Sheila says with a light voice and a chuckle. Her eyes narrow when she fails to notice any excitement in Bonnie. "What is the issue? I would expect you to be happy. The future Earl of Leicester is said to be quite the handsome man."
Bonnie's lips curl in a faint, forced smile. She should be happy about this. As far as betrothal options for her – a witch without a considerable dowry – the future Earl of Leicester is an excellent prospect. She should be thrilled, and yet Niklaus is all she can think about.
"Grandmother, I-" Bonnie hesitates; her eyes downcast as she stares at a spot on the wall. Suddenly she feels foolish, like that sixteen-year-old girl who believed the new King would summon her. Years have passed, but she's returned to the same place.
"Tell me, child."
"I cannot marry the Earl of Leicester's son or any other man that proposes to me, for I have already given my hand to another man."
Bonnie's voice is quiet but steady and confident. Far more confident than she could ever feel.
"Give your hand to another man?" Sheila asks, her face becoming paler and paler with each word she utters. "How? Who?"
"The King, Grandmother," Bonnie whispers; head bowed as she looked anywhere but her eyes.
"The King? What King?" Sheila asks; eyes wide as she attempts to process Bonnie's words. She sighs in resignation when her mind finally puts the pieces together. "King Niklaus. I should have known when I was told the English court was going to Paris."
Bonnie nods, worrying the silk at the hem of her dress as she is overcome with anxiety.
"We are to get married, Grandmother. As soon as the Pope grants him an annulment and gives us a dispensation."
Sheila's features soften, and she reaches her arms out to hug her granddaughter. Bonnie remains still, somewhat confused.
"Oh, child," Sheila breathes out against Bonnie's hair, feeling her own heart twist in a painful way. "How could I miss it? You two are halves of one."
Sheila may not practice witchcraft as much as she used to do when she was younger, but she has never lost her ability to connect with spirits and nature. All of the signs pointing to a connection between Bonnie and the King were obvious. She chose to ignore it, though. The crown of St. Edward and the throne are dangerous, especially to a witch. Not once did Sheila forget about the story of her antecessors, and now she's terrified the same faith may come down on her granddaughter.
"I have come to love him, Grandmother. But I fear we will never come to be," Bonnie confesses, feeling her eyes stinging with unshed tears. It feels good to finally confess after holding on to this secret for so long.
"Tell me," Sheila urges in a gentler tone than one would expect, as she knows Bonnie is far too vulnerable to handle anything other harsher than that.
Surprising herself, the words flow out of Bonnie's lips as she narrates the whole of her and Niklaus' story. The feasts, the masquerade and their stolen moments, it all comes out in rushed whispers. Sheila, for the most part, is able to keep a straight face and not show any kind of emotion.
This is not the time for Sheila to feel. It is the time for her to strategize, as Bonnie is far too naïve and inexperienced in matters of court to do so herself.
"It is clear the Pope is dragging his feet, hoping someone will dissuade the King from seeking the annulment. I would not be surprised to discover Warwick is the one orchestrating to foil the King's plans," Sheila says; her mind already at work thinking of all the political machinations that will have to be done.
"The Earl of Warwick? He is like a father to the King. Certainly, he would not try to cross him."
"Oh, my dear. Warwick is much more than a father to the King. Some even say he is the true King, the one who makes the real decisions."
Bonnie gasps at that. Niklaus is a handsome man with such presence that is hard to imagine any other man attempting to become greater than him.
"You believe Warwick is attempting to dissuade Niklaus from marrying me?" Bonnie wonder with a concerned tone. The Earl of Warwick is known through all of England for his power and influence. If he does not want this marriage, the chances of her becoming Niklaus' wife are smaller than ever.
"Warwick has invested a lot on a French alliance, so I doubt he will be happy with the King seeking an annulment from Queen Aurora," Sheila explains; pursed lips as she thinks of the Earl of Warwick.
Their paths have not crossed yet, but the stories about him have made Sheila all but despise him. She loathed power hungry vampires, after all. Foiling his plans would be quite amusing.
"Tell me, what is it that you want, Bonnie? You remember what happened to the last witch queen of England. Is that what you want, to become Queen?"
Bonnie takes a step back, feeling a layer of panic envelop her like a warm blanket would. It may be surprising, but the thought of being Queen has never been on the forefront of her mind.
"I wish to be his wife."
Sheila bites back a smile. Oh, her granddaughter remains the sweetest rose of them all. How amazing it is that after years around the French, some of the most cunning minds, and she is still this innocent.
"You may wish to only be his wife, but the others will brand you as a social climber that seduced your way to the throne."
"We have never-"
"I know, but many nobles will not hesitate in calling you a whore. As a Queen, you must rise above it and show them you are better than their petty gossip, even if it hurts. Is that what you want?"
Bonnie opens her mouth, but no words come out. After a quiet life in the country and then nestled at Château d'Amboise, Bonnie knows she is more sheltered than most high ranking women at court. The intricacies of court are a mystery to her, and as such, they scare her to no end. However, the thought of a bland existence trapped in an arranged marriage terrifies her even more.
"Yes, Grandmother. I wish to be his wife and his queen."
Westminster Palace
London, 1466
Klaus blinks slowly, willing his eyes to focus on the jumbled letters scrawled on the rolled out piece of parchment. It has been a most exhausting day, one that required all of his energy. The Scots continue to give them on the borders, part of the North is still loyal to Richard and it seems they will always remain so, some of the nobles are unsatisfied with their position at court.
And the worst of all, there has been nothing but silence from Pope Paul. Months have passed since his bishops returned from Rome, more than enough time to have an answer. Klaus has studied enough canonical law to be familiar with the proceedings of annulment and papal dispensations. The King of Portugal was able to marry his new bride just a few weeks after asking the Pope for a divorce. There is no reason to explain why the Pope seems to be dragging his feet to come to a verdict on this matter.
"Do my eyes deceive me? Is my brother, a lover of simple pleasures, stuck in his study with a pile of documents instead of outside drinking wine and dancing the volta?" Elijah, the Duke of Somerset, asks with a mocking scandalized tone as he ventures inside the chamber.
It is a summer evening, and most of the courtiers are enjoying their only reprieve to such a hot day; a feast outdoors on the gardens with plenty of wine to keep them refreshed.
Klaus, much to everyone's surprise, decided to stay behind and not partake in the evening's entertainment. After another frustrating session with the Privy Council, especially with Warwick still questioning him on the matter of his impending divorce, he is hardly in good spirits to attend a feast.
"England demands too much of time, brother!" Klaus comments; the easiest excuse he could offer. After all, the duties of a King never end. The duties of a King with divorce on his mind are even more exhausting. Klaus knows he cannot afford to lose the nobles' support, so it is best not to allow himself these frivolities.
The sound of a succession of rapid knocks against the door fills the silent room.
"I bring important news, Your Grace!"
After a nod from Klaus, one of the guards moves from his post to open the door, revealing a young man with a red face and anxious expression. He approaches them with uneasy steps.
"A letter from Rome, your Grace," the man says as he reaches for his bag, producing two letters from his pocket. "And a letter from Hertfordshire."
Klaus feels his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach at the mention of Rome. After months of silence, it would seem that the Pope has finally reached a decision.
As soon as the man leaves the chambers, Klaus breaks the seal of the Pope and unfolds the paper. After years of reading countless piles of documents, Klaus is quick to read through the letter; becoming furious with each word on the parchment.
"Well, what does Pope Paul say?"
"His Holiness," Klaus starts to say; making no attempt to disguise his contempt for the man. Has decided he will not grant me a divorce on ground of infertility because he does not believe it to be truth, as Aurora has conceived many times. He says the miscarriages and stillbirths are God's will, and not even a king can oppose that."
Klaus crushes the paper with both hands, wishing it was actually the Pope's neck he was wringing. Many may call him blasphemous for that, but Klaus does not care. Damn him. Why couldn't the Pope and all of his Cardinal advisors realize his desire for a divorce is also a wish to avoid another civil war in England? Aurora may be beautiful, with an impeccable royal lineage, but she has failed in the most important duty of a Queen.
Elijah runs a hand through his hair, sighing with concern. In a way, he is not surprised by the Pope's decision. After all, Aurora is King Louis' beloved sister and the Pope is afraid of defying the powerful monarch. Not to mention the important detail concerning Lady Bennett's lineage.
However, Elijah can see this decision has left his brother quite distraught, especially after reading the other letter. Though he has seen Niklaus in battle, at the height of his fury, it surprises him to see him in such a state. His brother is no longer seated at the table. Instead, he paces back and forth; dragging his feet over the rug and resembling an animal ready to attack. For a moment, Elijah is afraid Niklaus will turn into a wolf right here and now.
"It is a letter from Bonnie," he growls; face reddening as if he spent an entire day under the sun. "She informs me that her father has found her a match that no mind in his right mind can deny, and he wishes to secure a betrothal to the future Earl of Leicester. Apparently, the Earl of Derby is anxious for a wedding in the begging of the autumn!"
Klaus slams his closed fist on the oak table, feeling something akin to desperation run through his veins. It is as if he is back on the battlefield; his blood running hot as he tries to think of the right strategy. He's losing. The Pope has openly stated his regard for France over England, and now Bonnie's father is pushing her into the arms of another man. He may be the King, but now he feels like the small, weak boy that used to be mocked by his father.
"I suppose the Earl is unaware of your intentions towards his daughter," Elijah comments as he pours them a good amount of wine and hands the goblet to his brother.
"I thought it would be best if I announced my intentions after the Pope granted my divorce. I did not want tongues wagging all around court about her. She is not my mistress and should not be treated as such," Klaus hisses before tipping the goblet and drinking the wine to its last drop. As much as he knows he should keep a clear mind for this, being inebriated is quite compelling to him in the present moment.
Elijah is silent as he notices the fierce protectiveness of Niklaus towards Lady Bennett. Even though his brother seemed quite taken with her, Elijah half expected him to give up this senseless pursuit for a divorce after a while. Seeing his strong reaction to the Pope's decision is somewhat disconcerting and surprising.
"Well, perhaps it is for the best. Displeasing Louis would not be the wisest decision," Elijah comments in an attempt to calm him, but it is apparent it only makes him more incensed.
"I am King because of my unwise decisions, Elijah! Besides, the Pope has made his preference for France quite obvious! The King of Portugal was free to marry after two years of a childless marriage and now the Pope refuses to grant me the same privilege," Klaus growls; the anger causing his stomach to churn to the point of nausea. Is he not a King? And king of a great country. Bowing down to the Pope while he looks down on him can only make him weak. "No, brother. I have a much better idea to show the Pope he should not underestimate me in favor of France. Now, if you excuse me, I must speak to Lord Cummings before he retires."
With no words after his announcement, Klaus all but skips out of his chamber, leaving Elijah to fear for what his brother may do in the future.
Palace of Placentia
Greenwich, 1466
Protected from the bright sun by a canopy, Queen Aurora of England furrows her eyebrows in concentration as she works on embroidering some linen sheets and shirts. Around her, some of her ladies-in-waiting frolic around the garden, barefooted, wearing wreaths on their heads, and absolutely enjoying the freedom that comes with being away from a stifling court.
Even though Aurora is more than pleased to leave the hot and crowded Westminster Palace, she cannot shrug off the feeling that she is missing something by not being in court. After all, a Queen must always be kept up to date with all of the matters related to the realm. With all of the turmoil in her marriage- her inability to bear healthy children, and the stubborn rumors about her husband's fondness for another woman- Aurora did not want to be far from court and Niklaus. Her brother Tristen, however, had quite a different opinion on how she should deal with the matter.
"Do not attempt to hold onto him, men absolutely despise a desperate woman. Put some distance, retire from court. Engage in charity, go to mass and look beautiful, but humble. No ostentatious jewelry. Your husband is an obstinate man who won a crown because of his stubbornness. If he wishes to divorce you, I doubt there will be someone who can convince him otherwise. You need to remind England you are their rightful Queen."
Tristen wisely advised in one of their correspondences, and Aurora decided to comply, even though playing humble did not fit her personality.
"Your Grace!" Louise, her head lady-in-waiting and trusted confidante, calls out as she crosses the gardens in hasty steps.
"What is it, Louise? You are almost tripping over your dress!" Aurora questions with a chuckle as she sets the embroidered shirt aside. The humor in her expression melts away when she notices the hesitation in Louise. "Tell me!"
"Well, Annie was just here, Your Grace," Louise stutters, much to Aurora's trepidation. As Annie is Palace worker who agreed to keep them up to date with the events at court, Aurora can only imagine what she had to report.
"And what did Annie have to say?"
"Well, it would seem that his Grace is preparing for a grand event as he has summoned many Lords to court-"
"Louise, is that what worries you so? It is summer, the King is probably bored and looking for a way to amuse himself."
"There is also a rumor that His Grace has personally invited a young woman to come to London and stay at Stafford House."
Despite the sun; so warm over them, Aurora feels cold as if she was standing outside on the frozen weather. She's a Queen and before she became a Queen, she was a Princess. Her husband's infidelity does not have the ability to faze her anymore. Mistresses come and go like the weather and never stay too long to leave a lingering impression. They are usually girls who with pretty eyes and ambition to achieve a better position in court.
This, however, is different. Stafford House is Niklaus's personal residence. The place he has purchased himself and sought to have it renovated to reflect his tastes. It is his haven away from court, but close enough for him to deal with any urgent matters should they arise. If any mistress is staying there, she is no longer a mere mistress and a threat.
"Louise, you must return to Westminster Palace and find out the truth! Discover the identity of this woman and the reason for her stay at Stafford House," Aurora instructs; her mind already slipping into a plotting mode.
If the salacious rumors are to be believed, there are plans to rob her of her crown, and she cannot allow it to happen without putting up a fight.
Stafford House
St. James's District, London, 1466
"Amazing, isn't it?" Sheila comments with a small smile when she notices her granddaughter staring out at the manicured gardens; her mind looking so far away she might be back in Paris. "I have grown fond of the country, but there is something about London that I cherish. I know you are accustomed to French palaces that are furnished with gold and marble-"
"It is all very beautiful, Grandmother," Bonnie interrupts with a nod, as she surveys the room.
France may have its glittering palaces with silk, crystals and gold, but they could be so terribly cold. A gilded cage, as Queen Charlotte once spoke. But this place is warm and inviting, beautiful enough to distract Bonnie from her dizzying nerves.
She's in London. After months of nothing but letters from Niklaus and gifts that could never make up for their distance, she's finally close to him. Her heart has been skipping a beat ever since she received the summoning letter bearing the royal seal, and it has yet to calm down.
If her sweeping romance with the King felt like a sweet figment of her imagination while she was at Knebworth House, it certainly feels real now. And it is enough to terrify Bonnie.
For some reason, Bonnie believed she would be prepared to undertake such a change. How naïve of her. After all, she was the witch daughter of an Earl. How could she ever be ready to become the Queen of England?
"Are you alright, child? You look quite pale," Sheila asks; her dark eyebrows furrowing as she places a hand on Bonnie's forehead.
"I am fine, Grandmother," Bonnie assures; her faint voice betraying her words. It is Grandmother's insistent gaze that breaks her down. "I am so scared! Look at all of this!"
She gestures to the room they're in; private chambers fit for a royal. Furnished with a grand bed, wood panels and tapestries, it is more luxurious than Bonnie could ever imagine. Even though she has been sleeping in this very room for the past couple of days, it still feels strange. It is like the portraits on the wall know she does not belong there. A silly thought, she knows, but it only heightens her insecurity. Even though she's wearing one of the richest dresses she's ever owned – a dark blue piece made of silk with flowers embroidered with gold thread – and her hair is impeccably coiffed with curls, Bonnie cannot help but feel inadequate.
"It is normal to be scared, my child. Being a queen is not an easy task, but I am sure His Grace will guide you. And I will be here to guide as well," Sheila's tone is soft enough to comfort her, and yet emphatic enough to not leave room for any doubt.
"Excuse, my Ladies, but His Grace has arrived and is asking for Lady Bennett," Mary, one of the ladies called to wait on Bonnie during her stay at Stafford House, announces with a polite curtsey.
"Well, it is time for the elderly such as myself to retire. Please give my regards to His Grace. And Bonnie? Do not forget. You are here to be his wife, not his mistress."
The message is implicit, but clear enough to Bonnie. Do not give in to his demands. While a demure lady, Grandmother was not shy when discussing these matters with her ever since they were summoned to London. Lying with King without being lawful wedded to him will only bring her sorrow. No nobleman or woman will ever truly accept a mistress as a Queen. Her Lady Grandmother has repeated it so many times that Bonnie already knows the words by heart.
Bonnie blushes, as she always does when this particular subject is brought up. As it would seem, years in France have not made her bold and skillful in the art of seduction.
"I do not forget, Grandmother."
"Good," Sheila says and pats Bonnie's cheek. "A marriage that begins with love is so very rare and I'm overjoyed that you have that, but you should remain wise."
Bonnie offers her grandmother a stiff nod, feeling overcome with nerves once again. Just why did she ever believe she could be a Queen?
The nerves and the doubting questions that have been pestering her all but disappear when Bonnie sees him. For some reason, the sight of him is quite comforting to her. After months of only staring at the small portrait he gifted her, Bonnie can now realize that the painting, while beautiful, does not do him any justice.
"Your Grace," she murmurs with a bow; her demure tone turning into a squeal when he wraps his arms around her waist.
"I can hardly believe you are here, my love," he murmurs as the back of his hand caresses her face.
There is something in the way he looks at her that makes Bonnie tingle. After so long, she has almost forgotten the way he makes her feel. Precious and oh, so warm.
"It pleases me to know Your Grace has missed me as much I have missed you," Bonnie whispers, trying to conceal the excitement that leaves her dizzy or the longing she has felt for him.
All that she desires is to reach for him and inhale the familiar scent he exudes. But she's a respectable Lady and he's her sovereign, so her hands remain clasped together.
"My Lady, being distant from you has turned me into quite the dreadful lad. I am sure all of the Palace's servants will be pleased to know we are reunited," Klaus confesses with a jovial laugh as he remembers the bouts of anger he's suffered in the past months.
For the first time in his life, he's missed someone else's presence in such a keen manner that it made his own body hurt. His unfamiliarity with the feeling, coupled with his erratic werewolf side, caused him to lash out.
"I am certain Your Grace is far from being a lad!" she chuckles, finding hard to perceive him as a regular man instead of the conqueror king he is.
"Have I ever told you that I believe you should call me Niklaus?" Klaus takes a step forward; standing close enough for Bonnie to see specks of gold on the blue of his eyes. "My name will sound quite beautiful when coming from your lips."
The pads of his fingers trace her lips; a touch so light and feathery that Bonnie wonders if she is imagining it. She blinks, sensing the urge to get closer to him, but forces herself to stay still.
"There will be no formalities between us when we are in private. After all, you are to be my wife."
The grin on his face is so bright and confident that Bonnie becomes careless.
"Am I? Am I to be your wife?" Bonnie blurts out the question; her eyes widening slightly when she realizes the words that have escaped from her mouth. For a moment she wants to run the opposite direction and hide, but she remains strong. "Forgive me for being forward, but I have been so overcome by anxiety at the thought of our future and it only gets worse with each passing day."
"There is no need to apologize, my love," he assures; bringing both of her hands to his lips in a small gesture of comfort. "I understand the waiting has taken a toll on both of us."
"Is it over? Are we free to marry?"
Bonnie may not have the best instruction on the workings of papal dispensations, but enough time has passed for the Pope to make his decision.
"Not yet, love. It would seem that the Pope is hesitant on doing the right thing and granting me an annulment."
"He refused?" Bonnie wonders; feeling her body deflate due to sheer disappointment.
Even though it's only been a few months, she's allowed herself to dream about him and the life they would have together. She's allowed herself to fall in love with the man who writes her the sweetest of words and makes her feel cherished. The thought of letting him go; of him returning to a life with his wife is just devastating to Bonnie.
"Shh, do not be like that, sweetheart," Klaus pleads in a soft murmur; his lips just touching the lobe of her ear.
The way he wipes the wet streak on her cheek left by tears is so gentle that Bonnie's heart actually aches. The Pope will not allow them to be together. How is she supposed to forget him?
"We will never be married, then," Bonnie whispers, almost grimacing as she utters the words; looking down to the floor.
"Bonnie," he cups her face, tilting it so their eyes are meeting. "With God as my witness, we shall be married at Westminster Abbey and you will be crowned my queen consort."
"But the Pope-"
"The Pope will submit if he's wise, as I intend to show him just how valuable you are to me and to England."
"Valuable to England? How?"
"Just trust me, love."
Windsor Castle
Berkshire, 1466
It is an utter travesty. That single thought swirls through Alaric's mind as he stretches his lips in a thin line and tries to keep a neutral expression. After all, he may be the Earl of Warwick – the Kingmaker – but not even he would dare to show his displeasure. And it is quite the displeasure he harbors.
The girl is rather pretty, Alaric can admit. Not as beautiful as Queen Aurora and not pretty enough to make his cousin lose all of his wits. He was right when he accused Niklaus of thinking with his britches instead of his brain. Why else would he go to such lengths to slight his wife, France and mock the Pope's decision? And to do it in this public display is such a foolish decision!
Alaric worked tirelessly to make sure France would offer their support to Niklaus, a young, conqueror king instead of Richard, and this is how Niklaus decides to repay his hard work and years of friendship between countries? If he could wring his cousin's neck without being thrown into the Tower, he would.
His disgust is diluted by fury and astonishment as Lady Bonnie's new title is announced to all who are present. Duchess of Kendal and March. Gasps are heard from some nobles who seem to be too shocked to conceal their true emotion. Alaric can hardly blame them. Niklaus has just made a simple Earl's daughter – a witch! – into a Duchess in her own right. With the titles and lands conferred to her, the King has solidified Lady Bonnie's position as one of the richest women in court, perhaps all of England.
The taunt to Rome and those who object to his union with her is even more obvious with the choice of her title. Niklaus himself bore the title of Earl of Kendal and Esther's male antecessors, the Mortimers, have held the title of Earl of March for hundreds of years. By creating Bonnie Bennett the Duchess of Kendal and March, Niklaus has all but announced his intentions towards her.
God help them all, for the King seems to be intent on crossing the Pope and his allies.
A/N: I'm so sorry for the wait, guys! The chapter was extra long to make up for the long wait, and I hope it was juicy, too. The Pope weighed on the matter of the annulment, Bonnie is finally in London, Klaus is ready to defy the Pope and everyone else, and Alaric does not like it one bit! There's a lot to come, and I'm excited to write the next chapters! Let me know your opinion!