Westminster Palace, London
November 1466
Life in English court is exhausting, far more than Bonnie could ever expect. Back in France, Queen Charlotte and her ladies lived in comfortable seclusion at Château d'Amboise. In the King's absence, there were no sycophantic or ambitious courtiers who did nothing but indulge in gossip all day long. They had to be respectful and mindful of their own standing but given some freedom.
Within a few weeks after the wedding, Bonnie realizes that no such liberties are allowed to the Queen of England.
The Palace becomes more crowded as the upper echelons of English society flocking to London to participate in the Christmastide celebrations. It is to be the first Christmas with Bonnie as the King's new wife, so preparations to have a grand feast have already begun. As Queen, Bonnie is expected to partake in some of these preparations. It would not be so taxing if not for the quite obnoxious peers that wish to curry favor at every possible time. As a result, Bonnie has taken to spending most of her available time in her rooms.
Located on the Palace's east wing, near the solarium, the newly renovated Queen's quarters are a thing of beauty; dazzling anyone who is privileged enough to be there. To match the new Queen's sunny disposition, the heavy and stifling tapestries have been removed. In their place, there are joyful paintings of the countryside and light curtains that allow the sunlight to illuminate the room. On the dark paneling, floral motifs were painted, along with an interlaced B and K.
It is far richer than Bonnie's accustomed, with colorful silk furnishings and details in bronze and gold, but it is a calm place.
For Lady Anne, one of the ladies in Bonnie's service, it is hardly a surprise to see their Queen sitting by the fireplace immersed in a book. Unlike Queen Aurora, who basked in having music and dancing in her quarters at all times, the new Queen is much more subdued and easy to please.
"Your Grace," Lady Anne calls out, careful not to disturb Bonnie, who merely lifts her head in acknowledgment. "The Marquess of Derby."
Ignoring any sense of protocol that exists to guide her every single action, Bonnie jumps from the armchair to greet her grandmother.
"Lady Grandmother!" she squeals in delight as she wraps her arms around Sheila, much like an over-excited child.
From afar, Bonnie's ladies-in-waiting smile at the scene. As an invisible part of the royal family's intimacy, they know how hard is it is to witness true affection. Usually, the Palace is filled with awkward conversations and people who wish to be anywhere else. That was the case of Queen Aurora and the King, who could never muster true love for one another.
"I was not told of your arrival! Have you had supper? I imagine the journey must have been quite tiring," Bonnie says as she studies Sheila's appearance, looking for signs of exhaustion.
"The grounds were a tad icy, but the journey was as pleasant as it could be," Sheila replies, relieved to finally be sheltered from the frigid winter cold. "I would love to have some ale."
"Anne, would you please have some bread and ale brought to my rooms? And some apples as well," Bonnie instructs Lady Anne, pulling her grandmother by the hand to guide her to one of the armchairs facing the lit fireplace. "I am so glad that you are here, Grandmother. Christmastide celebrations would not have been the same in your absence."
Sheila cups Bonnie's cheek; pure affection shining in her eyes. Perhaps this was not the life she has envisioned for Bonnie. The crown could crush the strongest of them, and Bonnie is her darling granddaughter, still naïve. However, the connection between Bonnie and the King is so strong that Sheila doubts any action would change this outcome. So, as the months pass, Sheila's anxiety is replaced by resignation. There is not much she can do other than place a protection spell on her and pray Bonnie does not meet the same fate as Queen Madeleine.
"And I would have been quite dismayed not to spend Christmas with you, child. Tell me, how do the preparations for the feast fare? I imagine most of the nobles will be in attendance."
Bonnie sighs; sensing the exhaustion seep into her bones at the mere mention of the feast and the illustrious guests. Or rather, one illustrious guest in particular.
"Why do you seem to be troubled?" Sheila asks, noticing the slight furrow in her brows.
"Duchess Esther insists that she should spend Christmas in Wiltshire. It is clear she does not care for me," Bonnie states in a rather dismayed tone.
Ever since she first met the Duchess, in her wedding feast, Bonnie has endeavored herself to gain Esther's trust. Not one of her attempts has succeeded, though.
"It is not surprising, I must say," Sheila affirms with a slight frown of concentration as she settles both hands on her lap. "Duchess Esther is a rather prideful woman and she was quite pleased with the thought of becoming the next Queen after King Richard's death. When they slaughtered her husband, she had to settle for being a mere King's mother, with no real power."
Bonnie remains silent as she absorbs her grandmother's words; her lips pressed together so tightly that they start to lose their rosy color.
"I imagine the Duchess was less than pleased to see another take the place she was to occupy, but Princess Aurora is a King's daughter with a better royal lineage than herself. So she did not object to the match. I am afraid she sees you as her inferior, my child," Sheila murmurs the last sentence; vexed at thought of these people thinking Bonnie to be their lesser. Bonnie, who carried the blood of Queen Madeleine in her veins.
"I do not doubt that, Grandmother," Bonnie comments; her voice wavering as she remembers the Duchess' callous words, chosen with great care with the intention to hurt her the most.
"It is such a shame that Niklaus will not have children with an impeccable lineage," Duchess Esther said; a wicked grin upon her lips as she traced the rim of the goblet with two long fingers. "That is if you bear him children. Your mother has had quite the unfortunate history of childbearing. Only bore a girl before running away. Such a shame for my poor son to be disappointed in this manner."
"I fear I have been somewhat negligent in your tutoring," Sheila laments, shaking her head in silent self-reprimand. In response, Bonnie looks up at her Grandmother, clear confusion in the way her brows draw together and her head cocks to the side.
As the daughter of a noble, Bonnie has been tutored in the subjects that a young lady should know and more, such as French, Spanish, history, and manners. What else is there for her to learn?
"You are the wife of a King now, child. Not a mere lady-in-waiting, and as such, you must learn the ways of the English court," Sheila explains, slightly amused with her granddaughter's innocence. A rather admirable trace of hers that Sheila must assist in destroying, unfortunately. No Queen who wants to survive could ever afford to be innocent. "You must not trust any of the nobles, for they see you as a means to an end, a way to obtain the King's favor."
Bonnie feels a sudden burst of energy run through the length of her spine as if she has stepped into a bathtub filled with frigid water. Her Lady Grandmother's words are not surprising, but they do make her feel uncomfortable, a little tense even. It is not difficult to realize most people around her think of her as nothing but an extension of Niklaus, but to know that she is so easily disposable to them sickens her.
"Then what am I to do, Grandmother? Spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, not knowing whom to trust."
"You make yourself stronger by having a son and creating alliances," Sheila answers with a tone that leaves no room for any further questioning.
After all, there is no question in her mind. As soon as Bonnie's destiny became tangled with the crown, Sheila took it upon herself to devise a plan that would ensure Bonnie's safety. Even with her powers as a witch, she would not be able to bend nature's rules so Bonnie could conceive a son. However, she can use the little influence she has left to establish powerful alliances.
"But we are witches. Who in England is to ally with us?" Bonnie wonders; lowering her voice to a harsh whisper when she notices Lady Anne and Lady Mary entering her private chambers, carrying a tray of food and refreshments.
"There are many beautiful kingdoms besides England, child," Sheila responds before sipping on the wine. Her lips curl into a mischievous smile, one that Bonnie is not quite familiar with. "That is a delightful wine. From Burgundy, I believe."
Bonnie offers Sheila a subtle nod of understanding, a gesture that only her Grandmother will recognize.
Burgundy.
Westminster Palace, London
December 1466
It is dark when the Duke of Norfolk bows his head and leaves the King's offices. With most of the privy councilors gone and only the Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Somerset lingering behind as they often do, the servants enter the room to light up the candles and stoke the flames in the fireplace.
"Why do I sense that you seem to be holding your tongue, cousin?" Niklaus comments, arching an eyebrow in curiosity; amused with Warwick's hesitance. This is certainly a moment he did not think it would come, as Warwick has never shielded away from presenting his opinion.
"Shall I speak freely?" Warwick asks; careful to keep his tone respectful.
"Yes, cousin. You shall," Klaus replies; his head inclined to the side in agreement. Feuding with Warwick has given him much grief, so Klaus is inclined to accept counsel from him as much as possible.
"Lord Wyatt has written me some troubling information. He is the Ambassador to France as you may remember, and from what he tells me, France may come to be our dangerous foe."
There is a brief pause on Klaus' part, just a few seconds before he chuckles and proceeds to fill his cup with small ale.
"Oh, it would seem that the French continue to be dramatic," Klaus finally says as he takes a generous gulp of his drink.
"They have taken offense of your treatment of Princess Aurora. It will not do us well to ignore that, Niklaus," Elijah, the ever-cautious man, reminds him, properly ignoring the scowl on his brother's face.
France may be filled with aristocrats with a high regard of themselves and their titles, but it still holds quite the military power and is a threat to England. Louis may not have immediately reacted to the annulment as they expected him to, but Elijah is no green boy. The King and his younger brother, the Duke of Orleans, must be furious for the slight inflicted upon them and will lash out.
"My treatment of Aurora was just and fair. In the eyes of God, she was never my wife, and I was still generous to offer her a title, lands, and an allowance," Klaus reminds them; blue eyes narrowing as he attempts not to lose his temper.
"It matters little now," Warwick dismisses with a sweep of the hand, not wishing for the subject to become lost in Niklaus' outrage. "Whatever was done in the past pales in comparison to the threat France poses. It is imperative to focus on rebuilding our relationship with the French to ensure they will not feel tempted to support Richard."
As mighty as they are, both Warwick and the King know they would not be as victorious if not for France and Louis. Most of Europe may not object to Niklaus' rule, but it is clear they see him as little more than a conqueror King who does not possess the divine right to rule.
"Then what do you suggest?" Elijah asks; anxious to come to a conclusion on this matter.
"Invite their officials, make them Perhaps du Bellay, he's always seemed fond of the English court."
Klaus nods; his attempt of looking focused failing miserably, much to Alaric's distaste.
"Very well, you do that," he says, draining the little wine left on his goblet. "I fear I must leave you, for I am needed somewhere else."
As a reply, both men nod their heads, following the protocol of standing up when Niklaus rises from his chair and walks out the room escorted by two guards.
Alaric snorts; allowing just a hint of derision and impatience to taint his features. He could hardly be blamed. Niklaus is the King of England and yet he continues to behave as if he was some peasant boy with no responsibilities.
"The King is in love, cousin," Elijah reminds Alaric; his voice amused and just a little reproachful. It would not bode well for any of them to have such an antagonistic disposition towards Niklaus' marriage. "It will be easier if you are amicable towards the Queen."
"She is not my Queen yet, Elijah. Perhaps I will be of a more amiable disposition when that comes to pass."
The young Duke can only shake his head, aware that none of his words will be enough to change Alaric's behavior. He can only hope Alaric is smart enough not to cause a rift.
Palace of Placentia, Greenwich
December 1466
"A man would go to war and forfeit his life just for this sight," Niklaus says; his voice as soft as the silk sheet that adorns Bonnie's bed and as sweet as the Malmsey wine she enjoys drinking. "I would certainly forfeit my crown for this."
A small chuckle slips from her lips as Bonnie attempts to conceal the shivers that run up her spine. She does not wish to seem too wanton, after all.
"I believe all of England would be quite cross with me if their King decided to give up his hard earned crown," Bonnie replies with a smile; wishing she could wrap him in an embrace, perhaps kiss his lips as she often does when they are alone.
After a week apart due to his commitments with Parliament at Westminster and her overseeing the preparations for Christmas celebrations, all Bonnie wants is to be close to him.
"It would be for a noble cause," he comments; ignoring the curious glances from the two ladies-in-waiting who are arranging the train of Bonnie's dress. "I would not have to sit through long Parliament sessions and listen to Norfolk's spiel anymore."
Bonnie chuckles at the dejected expression on his face. If one were to look at him, one would probably think he is a sad little boy instead of the King of England.
"I am sure these sessions are not as dreadful as you make them," she replies in a cajoling tone, excusing both Annie and Kitty from the room with a subtle look.
As soon as both ladies curtsy and close the door behind them, Klaus cuts the distance between himself and Bonnie. Without curious eyes, both of them are free to dispose of royal protocol.
"I have missed you," Niklaus sighs in stark relief as he breathes in her scent, allowing himself to be engulfed by her presence. For some reason, she smells even more exquisite than usual. She smells of honey, damp grass and something he cannot quite understand.
"I have missed you as well, husband," Bonnie confesses; her voice a small whisper that is barely audible through the loud hissing of the fire. "It was starting to become quite lonely without your presence."
"Well, I can't possibly have my wife feeling lonely during Christmas celebrations, can I?" Niklaus asks, tracing her lower lips, so plump and red, with the pad of his thumb. "That would make me a wretched husband."
"And you would miss the surprise I have for you," Bonnie pipes in, placing a timid kiss on his hand. Being the one to initiate a kiss or an embrace still makes her blush, but not enough to deter her.
"A surprise?" Klaus wonders with interest. As King, he is due to receive many Christmas gifts from Lords and nobles who wish to gain favor, but he has never considered the possibility of a gift from her. Perhaps the one genuine gift he is to receive. "Tell me," he whispers; lips pressed right against her ear, his voice both pleading and demanding.
"Shhh, just listen," Bonnie instructs, much to his confusion. The room is silent, not even the soft melody of the lute can be heard in her chambers.
Then his ears pick up the small sound. It's constant, rhythmic and familiar. It is hope and joy wrapped in a blanket of fear.
"Is that-" he begins to ask, not allowing himself to complete the question. Saying the words would make it real and he wants it to be real, but he has been in this position before. And it ended in painful memories, each and every time.
As if sensing his growing anxiety, Bonnie takes his hand in hers and places it on her stomach. There is no obvious swelling, but he can feel it. He can sense the growing life under his palm and it is strong and so alluring.
"The midwife confirmed it last week," Bonnie whispers as the answer to his unspoken question. "Are you happy?"
Niklaus laughs; delighted and overjoyed, feeling light enough to float a few inches off the floor.
"My love, you have made me the happiest of men in England," he assures her as he leans in to drop a multitude of kisses on her face. Heavens, he must resemble a young, silly boy, but he can hardly muster a care.
They will hold their own child come next autumn, the utmost sign that God has blessed their union, despite what many may believe.
"We must have your coronation at once," he mutters to himself; his mind now a mess of jumbled, elated thoughts with the tiniest hint of apprehension.
Would the child take in Bonnie's belly? Would it be able to grow from a tiny seed? Would it be born a healthy babe, lusty enough to give a loud cry during his christening? None of his seeds with Aurora were, and Klaus can still remember with aching precision how each and every single one of the children died. Experiencing the same with Bonnie is certain to break his heart.
There shall be none of that! A voice in the back of his head scolds him, and Klaus forces himself to focus on what is in front of him.
Bonnie carries his child and that is all that matters.
Westminster Palace, London
January 1466
"Aunt, it is a pleasure to see you," Alaric Neville, the Earl of Warwick, says in a respectful tone as he places a kiss on the back of her hand. "I was most disappointed that you could not be here for Christmastide celebrations."
Duchess Esther, the Dowager Duchess of Somerset and the King's mother, curls her thin lips in an ill attempt to conceal her amusement. Her absence during the celebrations has sparked a multitude of rumors in court.
"Well, I was quite anxious to return to Wiltshire and I knew the celebrations in court would not be suitable," Esther comments with a small sigh, not expanding on the subject. There is no need, for they all know the Duchess' opinion of the Queen.
"I am sure Wiltshire in December was quite lovely, aunt," Alaric comments before clearing his throat. "However, I have come to discuss a matter that is not quite as pleasant, I am afraid."
"Matters of war, perhaps?" Finn Mikaelson, the third son of the fallen Duke of Somerset and the newly made Duke of Clarence, questions as he walks past a pair of ladies to enter the sitting chambers.
Alaric merely shakes his head as he turns his attention to the Mikaelson man. Nursing a cup of small ale and donning refined red silk clothing, Finn looks every bit of the spoiled child he is.
"No, not matters of wars. The King concerns me with some of his decisions," Alaric says with a pursed lip. Admitting to his waning influence on Niklaus is nothing short of vexing. He is Kingmaker and should not be coming to Duchess Esther for counsel. For the better part of three years, he was the unofficial monarch, negotiating treaties with allies and ensuring England's fortunes.
Both the Duchess and her younger son snort in clear derision, hardly an attempt made to disguise their opinions.
"There is no need to explain, nephew, for the servants have a penchant for gossip," Duchess Esther says with an unladylike roll of eyes as she reaches for her metal goblet. "My son is an exemplary warrior and conqueror, but hardly a wise monarch."
While Alaric is inclined to agree with the sentiment, he is mindful to keep his expression neutral. There are eyes and ears everywhere, even in the privacy of the Duchess' chambers, and it would not be proper to speak ill of His Grace. His standing as the King's most trusted adviser may not be as solid as it was in the past, but he remains one of the most important nobles in court.
"It brings me great pain to say that it seems that the King wishes to please his wife at the expense of the realm."
"Niklaus is blinded by the need to make all of England love his witch," Finn comments; a scowl marring his handsome features.
He has never been one to question Niklaus' decisions, as he his brother and King has proven his competence many times over. However, it would seem that the witch of his has robbed him of reason. First, Niklaus weds her instead of taking her as a mistress- humiliating Aurora and souring England's good relations with France as a result- and now his brother places his witch wife above everything.
"As long as the witch carries his child, he will grant her every desire," Esther concludes, shaking her head in resignation and just a hint of testiness.
After years of being Queen- in- waiting, of preparing herself for this glorious role, Esther has to witness her son bestow the title upon a witch of all people! A witch with no royal blood running through her veins. Quite a dreadful state of affairs.
"Including a garish coronation? His plans will cost the country a small fortune and will further humiliate France," Alaric says, troubled by what this gaudy celebration would indicate to the other kingdoms.
Princess Aurora's coronation, celebrated a few months after her wedding, was a simple event, without excessive flourishes. England was still recovering from civil war, after all. However, Aurora was the daughter of a King, while Bonnie is a witch and the daughter of a simple Earl. Spending this amount of gold to flatter a witch will surely send the wrong message.
"My dear nephew, you seek my counsel, do you not?" Esther finally asks with a dainty sigh as she reaches for a small fig tart. Alaric gives a tense nod, hesitant to show any weakness. "It is my belief that you should not go against Niklaus in this particular wish of his. Let him please his witch and do not attempt to stop him. He is determined and you will only spur him on."
"Am I to witness this spectacle without uttering a single word?" Alaric wonders; his tone filled with indignation at the thought of becoming a mere observer and not much else.
"You are to concern yourself with more important matters, such as the remaining threat in our borders or a possible alliance with the Holy Roman Empire," Esther suggests, reminding Alaric of why the woman remains one of the most feared figures in court. "If the witch is anything like Aurora, there will be nothing to worry about, for there will be no child and Niklaus will soon be distracted by another one of his mistresses. God knows there are many of them to catch his attention."
"Cousin, it is best to plan for the future than concerning yourself with matters of no consequence," Finn advises before bringing the goblet to his lips. He gestures to one of the guards standing by the door. "Bring us more wine!"
If Alaric is surprised by their cavalier behavior in face of what he considers an important issue, he does not show it. Better to keep a close eye on this, for he knows his aunt is hardly a fool and certainly has a plan in mind.
A/N: Sorry guys, that took me way longer than I expected! I had an idea of what was supposed to happen in this chapter but it was not coming together, so I decided to end the chapter here. What did you think? Bonnie is pregnant and everyone is plotting! I already know what I want to happen in the next chapter, but I'm not sure if I'll write Bonnie's coronation. There will be plenty of Klonnie though.