The Boleyn King
Chapter 5: the Winter King
MOCKs are almost finished and over with, I've only got French Reading and Listening tomorrow and then I'm all clear! So I'm celebrating by making a book chapter for you all , I hope you enjoy!
January 7th 1555
Westminster Palace, London
Christmastide had come and gone again and the young King felt as if he were trapped in a never ending loop; of sorrow, of despair, of longing for Joanna.
He had written a long letter to her young son, explaining to him that his mother had died giving birth to his sisters – Joanna and Anne – and that he would always be welcome to visit England. He had known how much Joanna had wanted to see her son one last time at least, he had planned for them both to travel to Portugal after the birth of their children.
But it was never to be.
Sighing he lifted himself from his seat and strode out of the room, heading straight towards the Nursery; it had become something of a habit, going to see his young daughters every day, looking at them and breaking down because they looked so much like her at this tender age; and he missed her, and he wanted her back.
"Leave us," he commanded of his daughters' ladies as he made his way to their cribs, gazing down at their tiny, sleeping faces.
And with the door's final shut he broke down, he cried and he yelled and he begged, proclaimed that he would do anything to have Joanna back.
What he didn't realise was that a young girl was still in the room, watching in pity and something akin to horror as the young King broke down; she had always thought Kings invincible, something alike immortals but now she saw that he was just as mortal as the rest, mourning the loss of the woman he had come to love.
Quietly exiting the room Lady Anne Stafford aloud herself one last look at the King before she shut the door behind her, wondering what he would be like when Lady Mary's child arrived; knowing it could cause complete chaos within the relam.
I need you Joanna, how am I going to handle this without you?
Nobody answered; nobody ever did.
TBK-TBK-TBK-TBK
January 18th 1555
"What are they saying, Eddie?" Lady Anne Stafford probed as the two attempted to listen into their older siblings' – the people who they were the wards of – words.
Young Edward Stafford strained his ears but nor could he hear a word; that was until the door boomed open revealing Lady Catherine Knollys and Lord Henry Carey – who was wed to Lady Mary Tudor.
"Don't you see, Cathy?" Henry Carey demanded, "if my wife has a boy and the uprisings she's planning go forth and win then I could sit upon the throne of England; but if they fail then we are not safe. We need to also be on the King's side."
"And pray tell me, Henry, how are you going to do that when you've gone and got yourself banished from court for getting the said woman with child in the first place?" Catherine inquired, growing impatient with her disgraced brother's antics.
"Anne has a place in the Princesses' household," Henry Carey stated, the confidence of having a new idea within his voice, "Anne can-," Anne leaned closer in order to try to hear what he was saying.
"Anne can what? She's not yet sixteen!"
"Far younger girls have been married off, the King's own great-grandmother had been married off and impregnated by twelve," Henry argued, determination within his voice.
Catherine looked at him with distain, "you are just how mother said my father had been."
"And I shall be the maker of a golden age like his, Cathy."
And with that the two began to head out into the hallway to where Edward and Anne had been hiding, the twenty and fifteen year old scampering off in a different direction.
The two ended up in the small parlour, looking at one another with shock, "Eddie they're going to make me-,"
The older boy, who was still sickly since his illness bout at just ten years, wrapped his sister into a hug, placing his head atop hers and kissing her forehead, "I won't let them make you do anything that you don't want to do, Annie, I promised father when he left to marry Lady Dorothy and I promised mama when she died that I will always look after you."
"I'm afraid, Eddie."
"I know, Annie."
It was then that a page burst into the room, interrupting the siblings' embrace as he panted out, "Lady Mary- Lady Mary has had a son."
TBK-TBK-TBK
Hudson House
Mary could smell the victory as she held her wailing young son, who seemed to let loose long wails whenever he entered her arms; he was what she had got and James hadn't, and Elizabeth was not yet with child, she had won and she would gain the throne of England.
She looked down at the small baby with mild disgust, it wasn't exactly a very pretty thing, she thought, but felt complete within that moment none the less because she had finally done what her mother had told her that she had been born to do; she could reign England and her son would be her successor.
Glancing down at the child, however, she decided to name him. And the name she gave was her first mistake as she announced to the page to tell all of England, specifically the North that she knew still rallied behind her, "tell them that a Prince has been born, tell all of England that Prince Carlos Tudor has been born upon this winter day; my winter King."
The page nodded and headed off, by the next two days England was alight with rumours of the birth of Lady Mary's son, only the mutterings in the pubs were not only of joyous, some celebrated and toasted to the idea of throwing their nine and ten year old King off of the throne and his two heretic daughters but others did not, muttering darkly about the idea of a boy Spanish in name taking their throne, how his name proved that his mother would make him favour Spanish interests over English ones.
Their King was young, he could have a son and he showed religious lenience with the Religious Settlement that he and his older sister, the Norwegian and Danish Queen, had devised; was it really worth throwing all that away for some brat who would only be taught in the ways of Spain? And if they longed to have Spaniards so bad then the Princesses were already half Spanish, though they were sure to favour the English ways; James was, after all, entirely English.
And would the Emperor, yet another Spaniard, even come to their aid? The King's daughters and current Heirs were already of his bloodline, they were his grandchildren not just another cousin of his; and everybody knew how much he had adored Joanna, and he would probably be more interested in setting their King up with yet another Spanish bride.
Was the death and blood shed to be truly worth it?
TBK-TBK-TBK
January 25th 1555
"How are things in the North?" James questioned of his Privy Council as they adjourned that week, "well?"
"We believe that there are whispers of uprisings in the North, Your Majesty," a brave councilman spoke out, his voice quiet as all of the other Privy Councillors remained immersed within silence, "we believe that the leaders may be the likes of Norfolk, Northumberland and Westmorland."
James laughed, sounding slightly crazy as he did so and reminding the men there of Anne Boleyn for if a fraction of a second, the crazed laugh that she had let loose after she had seen her husband dancing with his 'whore', a laugh that covered up the hurt and pain and betrayal that she had felt pierce her so deep, "Norfolk is a cousin of mine, he would not betray me."
"He can and he will," Sir William Cecil spoke gravely as he stared at the Boleyn King, "he is raising the North, Your Majesty, and we await your orders on how to act. But there is more."
"What more is this treacherous cousin of mine planning then?" James queried, letting the same laugh bubble out of his mouth, his dark eyes dangerous.
"He plans to wed Mary, Queen of Scots; and she has agreed. She wants the English Throne."
"And yet she is in France and is but around ten and three," James stated, eyebrows furrowed.
"Not quite, My Lord, the Dauphin was poisoned. The Queen is almost in Scotland, no doubt she will be by this days end. She is said to be beautiful; and very dangerously charming."
TBK-TBK-TBK
Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh
"How is my Lord Norfolk faring?" Questioned a rather beautiful girl, hair a stunning red-gold and eyes of light brown boring into her contact, who felt hypnotised within the young Queen's presence.
"V-very well, Your Majesty," the young man got out, "he is rising the North for you, my Queen, and hopes that you will be wed very soon."
"Yes, I suppose he does," the girl mused, she stood to her full height which was already unusually tall for a girl of her age, as she passed the man she smiled a charming smile that had him gazing wistfully, "tell him I will meet with him when the uprising ends; because, first, I'm going to need that crown. And your Lord is going to get it from my cousin for me. Or I will go and get it myself."
The man bowed low, "yes, Your Highness," and backed out of the room slowly, never turning his back to her until he reached the exit, rushing from the room and clambering onto his horse at the stables, prepared to tell his Lord what he had learned.
The Queen was beautiful, intelligent and frighteningly charming; and he had no doubt within his mind that Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots would strive for the crown with or without their help, and for their sake, he very much hoped that it would be with.
TBK-TBK-TBK
Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk hadn't had much time to truly sit around and think through this plot, and now he did his face grew pale as he thought of the consequences he would receive for the failure of this plot; and how he would lose his head and his children their lands, but mainly the factor that he would lose his head!
Perhaps it was not too late to call the whole thing off, yes, a marriage to Mary would win him two crowns if all went well but if all went to pot then there would be nowhere to put a crown.
Grabbing onto his nearest servant Thomas pulled him towards him, causing the young servant to adopt a fearful expression, "tell the Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland that the attack should be stopped; we will not win and shall all lose our heads."
The servant scampered off to do as he had said but he had clearly not got there in time; for then the church bells rung backwards, the symbol for the rebellion to start.
There was no going back now. Ordering his men to grab their weapons and to join the fiht; god willing that the results would be in his favour, and his future children could be the King of England and Scotland, the dawn of the new age.
If his cousin didn't deprive him of his head first.
And with thoughts such as those the Duke mounted his horse as his men began to march in the direction of Durham, where they would raise more of the North to join their fight.
Hi guys so I hoped you enjoyed that chapter, there is a lot going on now! What is going to become of Lady Anne Stafford? What will happen with Mary, Queen of Scots this time around? How will the rebellion of the North – occurring earlier than in true history – playout this time, under James' rule? And who shall the new Queen of England be?
Until next time,
LadyHallows.