HAPPY APRIL FOOLS EVERYBODY!
I really fooled you guys with that "I'm going to quit writing the story" trick didn't I? Truth is, I've been hard at work writing all this time! I just couldn't resist an opportunity for a good joke, and April Fool's Day gave me just that! But don't worry, I usually do this for all my stories sooner or later. It's a tradition that I have for myself.
Well, I suppose that's enough talk for now. Go out there and read! Read like you've never read before!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Tudors or Joan of Arc. Seriously, do I look I do? Oh yeah, and get ready to meet some OCs that I created. Now get out there and make me proud!
January, 1532
It was just the three of them in a room, the flame of the fireplace casting a warm light upon their faces. Mary, Catherine, and Chapuys each sat in mutual silence while bearing different facial expressions. The latter two appeared rather ill-at-ease with their downcast eyes and trembling hands. There was no way to describe the level of embarrassment that both of them felt at that moment. The Duchess and the Ambassador sorely regretted being so careless with their actions, but had to accept the fact that it was now too late.
All that they could do was nervously anticipate an answer from Mary, whose eyebrows were arched in a state of pondering. Though she didn't show it, her mind was actually being bombarded by a mixed combination of shock, confusion...and dare she say, excitement? Never had she been this overwhelmed in her entire life. Strangely enough, this also gave her a vague sense of deja-vu.
So after a long period of being isolated in deep thought, Mary was finally prepared to discuss the situation with her mother and Chapuys. She was eager for an explanation and knew that she could get the truth from them. Catherine and Chapuys only uplifted their gazes off the floor upon hearing Mary move in her seat. They were surprised to not see any flash of anger on her face as they had expected, but only sure calmness. Yet, that was still not enough to reassure them and they continued to fear for the worst.
"Mother, Chapuys," Mary began steadily as she looked between them. "I honestly don't know how I feel about this. All that I really desire from you is an explanation for what I just...witnessed."
Catherine and Chapuys simply blinked in comprehension at her question. The two then exchanged momentary glances, their eyes unreadable, before looking back toward Mary. It was clear to her that neither of them had the willfulness to answer right away. So she decided to give them some time by waiting patiently. Silence overcame the room once again.
Finally, it was Catherine who decided to speak up. She felt that she could no longer stand the secrecy, and took a deep breathe before saying, "We never meant for you find out about it this way, Mary. In truth, we planned to tell you right after the wedding, but..."
She came to a lost for words, while Chapuys nodded slowly in confirmation.
Mary leaned forward slightly, her eyes deep and full of understanding. "Everything is fine, dear mother, you don't have to worry. I have already forgiven you both. Now please...start from the beginning."
Her gentle tone helped Catherine to ease herself, causing some of her worries to disappear. At last, she was ready to deliver a proper answer, "Hmm, as far as my memory can recall, it all started right after your father annulled our marriage and banished me from Court. As you know, that left me completely devastated and heartbroken for a very long time. I was miserable living in Kimbolten Castle, being cut off from the outside world with nothing but my faith in our Lord to keep me company. Then everything changed, however, when Chapuys was finally granted access to visit me."
"I was driven by my noble duty as a servant of your mother's nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor," chimed in Chapuys after having gained the confidence he needed."On a more personal level, I was genuinely concerned for your mother's welfare. I tried my best to console her with my friendship, as well as delivering news and messages from the outside. Over time, though, our relationship grew to surpass the point of platonic formality and into something much deeper."
His eyes became somewhat wistful as he paused to sip some ale from a goblet. "Then within a few months I proposed, in spite of how foolhardy the idea is due to our obvious difference in status. The Lord knows I nearly had a heart attack when your lady mother said 'yes' to my proposal!"
The Duchess purred softly with laughter at his exaggerated statement. "Oh believe me, Chapuys, I was equally taken aback as you were! We then decided to elope secretly in the company of only a chosen few of our closest friends, such as Maria de Salinas. Our marriage has been nothing but blissful ever since." She released a light sigh and glanced fondly over at Chapuys. "I never expected to find true love again, because I failed at first to recognize it standing right in front of me. Thus, I have never regretted marrying Chapuys."
Chapuys responded by reaching across to gently squeeze her hand. He quickly returned to Mary, and proceeded to speak with brave sincerity, "Well what more can we say, Princess, but that it was by the work of fate that we were brought together. Once again, I am deeply sorry for not telling you all this time. We are fully aware that what we did was in defiance of all the sacred principles of nobility, but a heart's desires can be rather persistent. Please, Princess, you must understand that."
Chapuys continued to hold onto Catherine's hand as Mary was trying to comprehend their testimony. Their breathing slowed to almost a standstill from disquiet apprehension of what was to come. It was soon replaced by shock when Mary rose from her seat, and made her way to Chapuys where she embraced him. Catherine's eyes widened considerably at the sight, while Chapuys became utterly speechless.
"In that case, I hereby welcome you as a part of our family," proclaimed Mary.
The Spaniard could hardly believed his ears and struggled to find his tongue. "Y-You mean...you're not the least bit bothered by the fact that I married your mother and didn't inform you of it? Perhaps my ears are just deceiving me!"
Mary pulled away to look at him like he was crazy for some reason, though it quickly faded into a warm smile.
"No I'm not", she replied in earnest. "Why in the world should I be bothered by true love? You two are the most important people in my life, after all, and you deserve to be happy. There is really nobody else besides you, Chapuys, who I will trust to look after my dear mother. Therefore, I am most proud to call you my 'father' from now on." Next, she gave her mother a complimentary hug and said, "I believe you made the right choice, mother. May your new marriage be full of joy and happiness."
The Duchess was visibly touched by her daughter's heartwarming and kind words. "Oh, thank you darling. I'm just glad that we finally got rid of that heavy burden of a secret."
"Which we would like for it to remain that way,"added Chapuys in a tone of caution. "Are you willing to do that for us, Princess? Only God knows what his Majesty the Emperor will do to me if ever he finds out about this!"
"Trust me, Chapuys, for I promise you that I shall guard this secret with my very life," Mary vowed in order to reassure him.
It worked and he allowed himself to release a sigh of relief at having regained his peace of mind.
"However, I just have one question left...if you don't mind?"
Catherine's eyebrows curved up with sudden curiosity and she said, "Very well, then, you may ask."
With no idea of exactly how to ask the question she had in mind, Mary instead timidly bit her lip and played with her fingers.
"We will answer any question you may have, Princess," spoke Chapuys upon seeing her change of behavior. "Don't be shy now."
"I was going to ask if you have officially consummated your marriage yet," she finally managed to utter. At that moment, Mary could't bring herself to make eye-contact with Catherine and Chapuys, whose mouths were gaping open slightly.
A few awkwardly tense seconds went by before Chapuys decided to answer with, "We um never actually had the chance to do that, for I was summoned back to Spain right after we were wed."
"Even if we did, I wouldn't expect for anything to come from it, "sighed a sorrowfully deflated Catherine. "For I have gone beyond my point of rich fertility by now and won't be able to bear anymore children." She shook her head mournfully at the distant memory of past still-births and miscarriages.
Mary's heart became heavy with empathy for her mother, and she hugged her again in an attempt to ease her grief. Meanwhile, Chapuys had suddenly remembered something very important.
"Um Princess...Speaking of 'consummation', shouldn't you be with your new husband at this time?" Chapuys urgently reminded her. "You should best be going before he grows worried and comes looking for you."
Realization dawned upon Mary in an instant, causing her to face-palm herself. "Oh, you're right, Chapuys! Thank you so much for reminding me of that."
As she said that, Mary was already heading straight for the door. She then opened the door and looked back at Catherine and Chapuys for one last time. "I hope that you may rest peacefully tonight, dear mother...and father."
Before neither of them could say anything in return, she was gone.
Being not in favor of the prospect of missing her own wedding night, Mary rushed down the corridors with great haste. She was immensely grateful for the apparent lack of courtiers who were usually in their rooms by that time. Almost there...just a little further...
Mary turned at the last corner to reach her final destination. After stopping to catch her breathe, she then proceeded to open the door. She froze in her tracks upon entering the room, for standing with his back to her was George, who was fastidiously drying his wet hair with a towel. That wasn't all, though, for what really caught Mary's attention was the fact that he was also shirtless. She couldn't move out of astonishment as she stared at his exposed form. Her eyes were able to observe every significant detail starting from his muscular neck, and down to his ruggedly sculpted torso. The sight was enough to set her cheeks aflame, for she had never seen anything like it before.
Mary was too distracted to even notice when George turned around to come face-to-face with her. "Ah, there you are, Mary!" greeted George a grand smile."To think that I was worried about you not going to make it. Out of curiosity, where were you during all this time?"
It was his voice that ultimately helped bring Mary out of her dazed trance. "Huh? Oh... oh yes! Thank you for your concern, George,"Mary attempted to reply as calmly as possible. Even though she had lived at Court her entire life, Mary found that she was not as accustomed to keeping secrets. "If you must know, I was with my mother. We had such a good time talking over about the wedding that I lost track of time. Therefore, I apologize for that."
"There is absolutely no need for that, my love. I'm just glad that you are finally here now." George proceeded to approach her for an embrace, but she shrank away from him.
Her behavior was confusing to George, who simply scratched his head while wearing a puzzled expression. As he began to examine her more closely, he noticed that her cheeks were blushing deeply, as well as her eyes that were avoiding from looking directly at him. He rubbed the back of his bare neck and the answer immediately occurred to him.
"Christ, how could I have been so clueless? Pardon me, Mary, but I apparently need to go and fetch my shirt. Um...I'm sorry that you had to see me like this." He then quickly turned away, trying to hide his own embarrassment. Mary released a sigh of relief as she watched him retreat into an interior chamber.
George pulled open his wooden closet and picked out a simple woolen shirt. He then returned to find Mary standing before the foot of the bed, as she ran her hand across crisp white sheets absentmindedly. It didn't took long for him to figure out what was going through her mind. They both knew all along that their consummation was bound to happen sooner or later. Still, George realized that such an intimate act can be frightening, especially to such a delicate virgin as Mary. He himself was greatly hesitant toward the idea of bedding her, for fear of hurting her somehow.
Mary jumped a little as George's arms wound around her waist in an embrace from behind. "What are you thinking about there, love?"
"It's nothing," she replied dismissively. George wasn't convinced, for he could detect the slight tremor in her voice.
He rotated her around in order to look at her in the eyes and said, "It doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me. What's wrong, Mary? Please, I beg you to tell me."
His request was sincere yet firm, leaving Mary with no choice but to confess. "I-I can't consummate our marriage tonight. It's not that I don't love you, but just that this is not a good time for me. I'm really sorry if you are disappointed at me. I'm simply not ready for this yet and I hope you can understand that."
"I see. Well then, I say we skip the consummation tonight and go to bed," George answered shortly.
Mary instantly looked up at him with a mix of relief and awe. "Do you really mean that?"
"Yes, Mary, I really do mean it," confirmed George with a loving smile. "I am not going to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you feel like you're not ready now, then I'm willing to wait no matter how long it takes. Do you know why? It's because I love you, Mary, and nothing you do can ever upset me. Now...I shall leave the room to give you some privacy to prepare for bed."
A gracious smile grew upon Mary's face as George leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. He then took his leave out of the room, leaving Mary to her own devices. It didn't took her a very long time to remove her jewelry, get out of her gown and slip into a light silk nightdress, and brush out her hair. About half an hour later, George reentered and climbed into bed beside Mary. The couple then spent the rest of the night entwined in each other's arms, with Mary cozily resting her head on George's warm chest. They were immensely content at being able to spend their wedding night in peace without Anne or any of George's family to disturb them.
"May I ask you something, Mary?"Asked George, thus ending the current streak of silence.
"Yes, George?" Mary murmured in her drowsy state.
There was a glint of joy in George's eyes as he spoke, "I have been thinking and wonder if you would like to visit Rochford Castle for our honeymoon. We can live there in the countryside for a few months away from the peering eyes of Court. Best of all, of course, is that neither Anne nor my father and uncle will be able to torment you. I can assure you of that." He frowned slightly while thinking about the ambitious actions of his family, but it quickly uplifted. "So what do you think of that, my love?"
"Oh, that is such a wonderful idea," Mary readily agreed, pleased at the prospect of living in the countryside."Let us leave as soon as possible."
"Good, so we're settled then. I will inform your father of our plans first thing tomorrow."
Nothing else was said after that. Mary soon fell fast asleep while listening to the lulling sound of George's steady heartbeat. George continued to watch over Mary as she slept, before finally surrendering to the overpowering spell of sleep himself.
A week fleetly passed by after the day of the wedding, which meant it was time for Catherine to leave Court and retire to her new estates in Lancaster. Mary and George, the newly vested Marquis and Marchioness of Ormond, were to both travel to Rochford Castle that day also. Haste was the main key, for in spite of a majority of the snow having melted, English weather was still highly unpredictable at the time.
The Duchess, along with George and Mary, stood in front of Hampton Court as servants worked to pack the luggage into their carriages. All three were dressed in heavy winter garb of furs and cloaks. The Spanish and French ambassadors also stood present nearby. Once everything was finished, it was time for them to exchange their goodbyes.
Catherine first turned to Mary and took hold of her hands saying, "This is where I leave you, my darling daughter. I just know that I'm going to miss you greatly. Promise me that you will visit soon, will you?"
"I definitely will," replied Mary with tug of emotion. "If God wills it, then perhaps I will even bring along a grandson or granddaughter." Mary glanced up at George as she said that.
"Oh, yes, nothing would make me happier,"Catherine clapped with glee. "Until then, I hope that you will be able find pleasure in being married while at Rochford Castle. God bless you, my daughter."
"God bless you, dear mother...and godspeed on your journey." Catherine then pulled her into warm, compassionate embrace.
When she finally pulled away, she next aimed her attention towards George. "And you, Duke Rochford, can I trust you to take care of my Mary as her husband?"
Even then was Catherine still a strikingly intimidating figure to George. "Of course you can, your Grace," he answered with utmost honesty. "I swear to you that no harm shall come to Mary, lest my body should be sliced open and given to the birds."
"I though so," she said in return with an appreciative smile. "Also, you have my sincerest blessing and gratitude, Duke Rochford."
That statement caught George by surprise, but he also felt his heart being uplifted with immense pride and joy.
The Duchess gazed upon her daughter for a little longer, before finally letting go. She then approached the two ambassadors who respectively bowed to her. She nodded in acknowledgement at that and bid them to rise. Her eyes hid a silent conviction as she looked toward Chapuys, who in turn gave her crooked smile. Then without a word, she promptly turned away and began to walk to the carriage. It was then that Mary saw Chapuy's demeanor become somewhat disappointed.
Just as Catherine was about get into the carriage, Chapuys called out, "Wait!"
She paused and looked back to see the Spaniard running toward her way. "What is the matter, Chapuys?" She inquired once he was close enough.
"I-I just need one more kiss before you go,"he said rather pleadingly like a lovesick boy.
"What?"
Catherine had no time to react as Chapuys impulsively swooped in for one last kiss. Though it only lasted for a mere moment, it was more than enough for Chapuys. He then pulled away as abruptly as he had came, before running back to the group looking like the most happiest man in the world. It took Catherine a few seconds to recover, but she was able to smile about it to herself afterward. For Mary, she had to strain every fiber in her body in order to prevent herself from laughing out loud at George's priceless expression of bewilderment.
"Ah, you are one very lucky man," Joan told Chapuys upon his return.
Chapuys was beaming triumphantly when he responded, "Why, thank you. I know I am."
They all waved as Catherine's carriage departed through the courtyard gates. Tears began to amass in Mary's eyes, but she managed to wipe them away.
"Um Mary...can you please explain to me what just happened?" Asked George with eager curiosity in his voice.
"It's a long story actually," Mary replied cryptically. "I'll tell you on our way to Rochford."
Before leaving, Mary went over to say goodbye to Chapuys and Joan who bowed once again. "Well, I suppose this goodbye for now. What will you two be doing here while I'm gone?"
"Oh, simply the usual,"answered Joan with a humorous glint her eye.
That made Chapuys chuckle softly in amusement before replying, "I think Monsieur Du Lys means that we will continue to be your eyes and ears within the Court. Isn't that right, Monsieur?"
Joan nodded in response. "Yes, that is true. We will stay with the Court, and warn you of any potential dangers that we find. Now go and enjoy your honeymoon, Princess. We'll be waiting here when you get back."
Mary's heart fluttered within her chest, as her eyes shone with immense gratitude. She couldn't resist enfolding the both of them in a tight embrace, not that they minded. Then after what seemed like an eternity, she released them and began heading back to the carriage where George stood waiting. Joan and Chapuys remained standing there, watching their carriage gradually disappear down the frost-bitten path.
"Monsieur, wait! Monsieur!"
On her way back to her chambers, Joan was overtaken by a weary French messenger. She immediately asked, "Qui? What do you need me for."
The messenger's answer was delayed as he was preoccupied with catching his breathe, for he was clearly exhausted from his travels. "I..I've come with a... a message from His Majesty, King Francis, " he was able to pronounce between deep breaths.
Joan's eyebrows lifted upon the mention of her liege's name. She then held out her hand ready to receive the message. After recovering, the messenger proceeded to pull out a rolled up parchment from inside his doublet.
"King Francis wants you to deliver this directly to King Henry,"he told Joan as he handed her the parchment. "Can you do that?"
Joan tightened her hold of the parchment and replied, "Yes. So now I must bid you good day, my man."
The messenger did a slight bow before briskly walking away. Joan carefully looked around for any signs of courtiers before unrolling the parchment. Her eyes narrowed as they skimmed across all the words from the beginning, and until the very end at King France's signature next to his royal seal. After reading the message, she wasted no time in looking for King Henry. With the help of directions given by servants, she was able to find the royal chambers.
There, she was met with two burly guards who demanded to know her intentions, to which Joan readily obliged. They then opened the doors and allowed her to enter. Inside, Joan found King Henry sitting at his large desk looking over some documents and paperwork. The inanimately bored expression that he wore suddenly brightened up a bit upon seeing Joan standing before him.
"Monsieur Jean!"Exclaimed Henry, quickly putting aside the paperwork."How good it is to see you again! So why have you come to me today?"
Joan bowed reverently before answering him, "Good morning, your Highness. I am here to deliver an important message to you from my liege, King Francis."
"King Francis, you say?" Prompted by natural curiosity, Henry leaned forward in his seat. "Then tell me, Monsieur, what is the message?"
"I am supposed to inform you that his Majesty is deeply sorry, as he will not be able to attend your wedding ceremony. However, he promised to make it up to you by being here for the christening of the future Prince of Whales. Here-" She paused in order to pull out the parchment before offering it to Henry. "Take this. My master has explained everything in this letter."
Henry eyed the parchment for a moment before finally taking it from the Ambassador's hand.
He was disappointed at the news and said mildly,"Thank you, Monsieur, for informing me of this. It's too bad that your king can't join us for the joyous celebrations." As he spoke, his hands became gradually intertwined with each other. "I was really looking forward to discussing some important matters with him."
Joan nodded in agreement with him. She didn't keep eye contact for long, as her eyes began travelling around the room, taking in all the details of their surrounding. She soon took notice of the paintings that were hung along the walls. Portraits for every king of England that ever lived were proudly displayed, in chronological order of course. They were beautifully realistic and each was bordered by their own golden frame. Joan found the portraits of warrior King Henry V and mad King Henry VI to be particularly interesting. Following their path, Joan then came to an abrupt end in the form of a vacant spot right after Henry's picture. She assumed that it was being reserved for a painting of his future son, the child that Anne is supposedly carrying in her womb.
Suddenly, their meeting was interrupted by the chamber doors being pushed open. Joan instantly turned around to see who they were letting in. She groaned inwardly when it turned out to be none other than Thomas Cromwell. The wannabe nobleman had sauntered into the room, wearing his finest red robe and matching hat. A highly decorated necklace in the shape of a cross hung from his saggy neck while his fingers bore rings of precious jewels. As far as anybody could see, everything about the man oozed with pure vanity. In his right hand, he held onto a leather-bound book.
It's obvious that he is here to speak with the King. How is it that he's able to walk around with all those heavy jewels?
Cromwell approached Henry's desk with a courteous smile. Then disregarding the Frenchman's presence, he bowed saying, "Greetings, your Highness, I see that you are up and well on this very fine morning."
"Yes, Cromwell, and it seems I can say the same of you," Henry responded lightheartedly in return. He then gestured toward Joan and said, "Also now that you're here, I would like to introdu-"
Cromwell intervened by saying, "There is no need for that, your Majesty, because Monsieur Du Lys and I have already met. Haven't we, Monsieur?"
Cromwell turned his head to give Joan a deceptively menacing grin. Henry did the same and immediately looked to her for an answer.
"His Excellency speaks the truth," Joan replied honestly, paying no heed to Cromwell's hostile glare. "We have actually spoken on multiple occasions before. I can tell you that his Excellency is a most...charming acquaintance."
Joan felt a tremor of disgust reverberate across her soul as she literally forced those words out of her mouth. Praising Cromwell was the most agonizing thing she ever had to do in all her time in England. Still, though, she knew that dishonesty was sometimes necessary if one wants to survive at Court. She needed to be careful because she could sense that Cromwell already harbored some suspicions toward her.
"Well good, I am indeed glad to hear that." Then returning back to Cromwell, Henry asked him, "So why are you here this morning, Cromwell? Is there anything important that I should know of ?"
Cromwell's rigidly seriously expression was all that answer he needed. "Actually, your Highness, that is exactly why I have come. If it wasn't, then I wouldn't have wanted to disturb you so early. That said, I wish to speak with you...alone."
Joan, taking that as a hint to leave, politely proceeded to excuse herself, "This sounds like something extremely private, therefore I would like to take my leave with your Majesty's permission?"
As Henry nodded his consent, Joan bowed farewell both to him and Cromwell. She then knocked on the door for the guards to let her out, leaving the two of them alone in the room. Joan could feel their eyes on her as she made her way down the hall before disappearing around a corner. Unbeknownst to them, however, Joan wasn't completely gone, but instead continued to linger out of their view. Joan pressed herself flat against the wall, and with narrowed eyes, took a discreet glimpse of the royal chamber's doors.
Whatever it is that Cromwell is telling the King, must be of great significance. His insistence on secrecy raises a lot of red flags. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to find out what they're talking about.
Joan was determined to do just that, but first she had to deal with the two guards who didn't look like they were going to move anytime soon. Luckily, Joan had experienced these types of situations before. Because of that, she was able to formulate a distraction in no time. It was a long-shot, but it would have to do for now.
"Guards, quick! There is a thief in the palace! I saw him run that way!"
The guards fell for the ruse and quickly took off to catch the non-existent thief, leaving the doors unattended. Joan, a little surprised that it worked, shook her head in slight bemusement. Whatever happened to English guards these days, huh.
She then pressed her ear against the door in order to eavesdrop on Henry and Cromwell's conversation. At first, there was nothing that struck her as out of the ordinary; Cromwell informed Henry that there has been a terrible famine and that peasants everywhere are dying of starvation. Without a good harvest, the common people won't be able to pay their taxes, which can have negative consequences for the Crown's revenue. Henry, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, grew increasingly frustrated at that.
"This famine is a bloody nuisance!" He snarled angrily. "Why can't anything just go right for once! Now how am I supposed to collect the sufficient funds that I need?"
Cromwell's lips curled to form a sly grin as he proposed, "Never fear, your Majesty, for I have developed a solution to this troublesome problem."
Henry's rage was suddenly replaced with a new-found sense of hopeful interest. "Well then, spit it out already!"
"Gladly, your Highness." Cromwell cleared his throat before continuing, "Since the peasants are incapable of providing the annual taxes, I suggest that we look to next best thing. That would be the many wealthy Catholic monasteries in England. It's a well known fact that grand caches of riches and valuables are stored in those monasteries, supposedly to honor God." He gave a loud snort of skepticism. "Ah, what a despicable lie it is! They only use that as an excuse to not pay the taxes that are rightfully due to you as their sovereign King.
"I understand where you are going with this, but won't my subjects see it as tyranny?" Henry pointed out, with a hand raised in caution. "They are already resentful of my decision to tear away from Rome, and this will certainly push them over the edge. I really don't want to have to deal with an uprising."
Cromwell's smile only grew broader as he replied, "I thought you might say that, so I've come prepared." He then presented Henry with a book of records, placing it on his desk. "I had decided to do some investigations of my own and this is the end result. This book contains valuable information that my agents have collected, evidence of corruption and dishonest conduct that are taking place behind the closed doors of these lucrative monasteries. I am giving it to your Majesty so that you may use it as a legal warrant to seize their lands and properties."
That was all the assurance Henry needed and he beamed with gratitude toward his staunch adviser. He then picked up the book to look it over for himself. Needless to say, he liked what he saw.
Joan, meanwhile, was automatically taken aback by the sheer force of what she just learned. The conniving serpent! Is there no limit to his dastardly vile schemes! Targeting sacred sanctuaries and their riches...by God, he must be stopped! His Holiness shall know the best way to handle this situation.
Soon, there fell upon her ears the sound of heavy footsteps; the guards have returned, and they don't sound happy. So armed with this new-found knowledge, Joan swiftly ran from the scene with the intention of writing about her findings to the Pope.
If you think that I would agree to that foolhardy scheme of yours, then you are sorely mistaken...
You are not the sister I once knew, Anne, for the power has darkened your heart and corrupted your soul...
By God, I would rather be the son of a poor knight than to be part of this family of wretched, power-hungry plotters...
That vividly heated argument kept playing itself over and over again inside of Anne's head. She still couldn't bring herself to believe how George, her once beloved and dear brother, had changed so dramatically. Remembering his spiteful speech against her had put Anne in a most gloomy, melancholic mood. All that she could do, as she sat waiting for Henry to join her for a midday brunch, was sullenly push her food around with a knife. She simply didn't possess the appetite for it.
Anne clearly recalled how close she and George used to be as children. She could always trust him to be there for her, to make her laugh when she's sad, to help her whenever she's in trouble. She had always looked up to him as the ideally caring and supportive brother. Now, however, all of that has changed for the worst; their sibling bond is in serious danger of being broken forever. His priorities have been shifted in a way that even she couldn't comprehend. Anne had never in her life, expected for George to be so loathsome toward her, or for him to abruptly turn his back on their family. But much to her grief, he did...and she had only one person to blame for that.
This is all that bloody Spanish bastard's fault! Ever since their betrothal, she had been poisoning George's mind in order to turn him against me! How else could he had been able to go through with his irrational reversal of loyalty. Why, God so help me if I ever manage to get my hands on that girl...
In a sudden burst of rage, Anne took her knife and thrust it hard into a piece of roast quail on her plate. She then found herself feeling much calmer afterwards, for stabbing that piece of quail had actually helped to clear her head and quell most of her fury. For the sake of her unborn baby's health, Anne decided to lean back and take in self-relieving breathe.
Just then, her sister Mary Carey(nee Boleyn) came into the room, wearing a bright smile on her face. "Ah, there you are Anne! How are you doing today?"
Anne formed a small smile upon seeing her sister and answered with, "Ugh, morning sickness is absolutely awful, but other than that I'm doing just fine. Thank you for asking, Mary."
The two then exchanged light kisses on the cheek, a habit that they brought over from France. As Mary took a seat next to her, Anne couldn't help but notice how she hid her hands behind her back. One of her thin brows raised up with a keen sense of interest.
"So...Mary, would you mind telling me what you're holding there?" Anne asked shortly.
Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Mary soon revealed what appeared to be a small whit gown adorned with the Tudor rose. Anne, on her part, released a gasp of genuine surprise.
"Surprise!" Exclaimed Mary, who was quite satisfied by her sister's expected reaction. "I made this for my future royal nephew to wear. Hopefully, this will help to keep him nice and warm. So what do you think of it, Anne?"
"It's...very beautiful," was her honest reply. "You have always been the better seamstress, after all. The gown looks lovely and is truly fit for a prince! May I?"
Anne extended a hand in a pleading gesture. Mary, smiling, was more than glad to give the gown over to her. While Anne gushed over her sister's thoughtful gift, she was also grateful knowing that there was at least someone who still cared about her. Her happiness didn't last long, however, for she was suddenly reminded of what Catherine said the night of the week before. No matter how hard she tried, Anne just could seem to get out of her head.
Will the baby be a boy or a girl? That is the question that has been haunting Anne; the harshly cynical attitude that she received from her father and uncle didn't really help her case either. Nothing was certain except for the fact that the gender of the baby will have the power to determine the fate of her family's fortunes. A son could open so many doors to grand opportunities in the future, but if it turns out to be a girl, then she would risk losing Henry's love and favor. That could very well mean the beginning the of the Boleyn's fall from grace. Just thinking about that possibility filled her with so much dread. For once in her life, Anne Boleyn was actually vulnerable to fear and doubt.
"Anne, are you alright? Is something wrong?" Asked Mary with concern as she touched Anne's arm.
Her voice was enough to bring Anne out of her musings, who shook her head afterwards. A smile then returned to her face as she covered Mary's hand with her own. "Sorry Mary, I didn't mean to wander off like that. Your gift means a lot to me and I shall always cherish it dearly. Thank you."
Mary said nothing, but instead responded with a warm smile of her own. She then caught sight of the other plate on the table that appeared to have been untouched. Looking back at Anne, she asked, "Let me guess, you're still waiting for King Henry to come eat with you?"
Anne nodded as she brought her goblet up to her lips. "Yes and he is late. It must be his royal duties that are keeping him busy."
"Ah I, too, know the feeling,"said a reflective Mary. "I suppose you will have to get used to it if you are to be his wife."
"Mary, I'm sorry that things didn't work out between you and Henry," Anne confessed softly. Knowing that her sister used to be the mistress of her fiance, Anne couldn't help but feel guilty.
Mary only sighed lightly and placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. She then replied, "Thank you, Anne, but there is no reason why you should be sorry. It was father and uncle Norfolk who pushed me to do it, but I knew that the relationship was doomed from the start." Resentment clouded her eyes for a split second before vanishing. "In truth, being Henry's mistress was not easy for me. He lusted way too much and was always so demanding. Then when he was finally through with me, I was nothing more than a disgraced whore. Oh, I was completely devastated afterward because who was going to want to marry me? Thank God, that I eventually met William Carey who is more than I could ever ask for in a husband. The point is, Anne, I have learned to put all of that past drama behind me so that it doesn't get in the way of my future happiness. I promise that there will be no bad blood between me and Henry when you two are wed."
"Anne, are you here?"
Both women looked up see Henry who had just entered the room. Apparently, he had not learned to put anything in the past. Henry felt extremely awkward seeing his ex-lover and fiance sitting together, but otherwise maintained a courteous expression.
He then approached to greet them, "Anne, my love, you look simply radiant this morning! You as well, Lady Mary Carey." Mary stood up to do a curtsy, but Henry stopped her. "Come now, Lady Mary, there are no need for such stiff formalities. We are to be family soon, are we not? It won't be long until I'll have the honorable privilege of calling you my sister-in-law."
"I feel exactly the same way," Mary replied politely before looking back to Anne. "Well, sister, it's been pleasurable talking to you. I must go look after my own children now."
The two exchanged kisses once more. She then did a small curtsy to Henry before swiftly taking her leave. After she was gone, Henry was finally able to relax.
"I apologize for being late, darling,"said Henry as he took a seat beside Anne. He then pointed to Mary's gift and asked, "What's that?"
"A baby gift from Mary,"Anne answered with a smile. "Isn't it just lovely? That reminds me, we need to choose a name for our little Prince. May I suggest the name Arthur?"
Henry thought about it for a moment, then he said, "That's not exactly what I had in mind, because I wanted to name him 'Henry' after my father. But 'Prince Arthur' does have a nice ring to it," he added grinning widely. "Therefore, that shall be the baby's name! I'm certain that he'll be just as noble and strong as his legendary forefather."
"Good and what name would you want...if it's a girl instead?" Anne inquired rather shyly.
Her question caught Henry completely off guard with his food hanging in midair, just mere inches from his opened mouth. He had to put down his food before trying to respond with, "A girl's name? Well, um, you see...I...uh...I would...um...name her...uh...um..."
Henry knew that he was floundering right there before Anne's dark and penetrating gaze. Eventually, her frustration at his incompetence became too much for her to handle.
She quickly stood up crying,"You are truly unbelievable, Henry!"
Panic overcame Henry as Anne tried to leave, causing him grab her hand. Forcing her to face him, he then demanded, "Don't you ever walk away from me like that, Anne! Please, tell me why you're so upset."
Her eyes remained defiant as she replied, "You hesitated to answer my question. Why is that?"
"Ah, so that's the problem." Seeing the glint of fresh tears gathering in her eyes, Henry knew that he must choose his words carefully. "I'm sorry, my love, it's just that I was unprepared that's all. I mean, all we ever talk about is having a healthy son and prince. Again, I am really sorry."
"So would you be happy with a daughter?" Anne continued to press further.
Henry flashed her his most charming smile and answered, "Of course I will, especially if she is as beautiful and talented as her mother!" He reached out to caress her cheek. "I will love any child that you give me, Anne. Never doubt that. However, you must understand that I still need a male heir to succeed me. Therefore, it shall be you who will bear me one."
Hearing nothing but compassionate sincerity in his words, Anne's expression immediately softened. Her heart fluttered with new-found confidence in carrying the future of England inside her womb. Henry then finished off my bringing her in for a heartfelt embrace. Even though he might be safe for now, Henry sensed that this was somehow going to come back and bite him in the neck later. In his happiness with Anne, he ended up dismissing it anyway.
After being on the road for nearly four hours, a blizzard had set upon George and Mary's carriage. It was a minor storm, yet still troublesome nonetheless. With this unexpected change in weather, the driver was barely able to keep the horses on track. Strong, bone-chilling winds whipped around the carriage as it struggled to trudge through high levels of snow. In spite of all these disturbances, Mary managed to sleep quite soundly, using George's shoulder as support for her head.
One of the wheels encountered a bump, causing Mary to jolt awake. It took her a while to blink the slumber away from her eyes.
"George, are we there yet?" She asked while slightly yawning.
George, grinning in amusement, replied with, "My, you're quite the heavy sleeper aren't you? I'm not sure, Mary, but I'll try to see where we are." So with that, he proceeded to stick his head out of the carriage window.
George could practically feel his own teeth chattering due to the freezing temperatures. Squinting his eyes in concentration, he attempted to look past the thick hail of snow and wind. Then finally, he caught sight of the distant outline of what appeared to be a gate up ahead. He quickly retreated back into the carriage to tell Mary, "Just our luck, we're almost there, Mary. By the way, you look adorable when you drool in your sleep." He added in a knowing tone.
Mary grew inwardly self-conscious, but her face appeared downright scandalized. "Me? Drool? A proper princess never drools!" She huffed, crossing her arms in slight vexation.
George simply responded with laughter at her childish wrath. Mary, in spite of herself, couldn't help but smile along with him.
Their carriage then cleared pass the opened gates within moments. Out of natural curiosity, Mary looked out the window in order to get a better view of the Rochford estate. Rows of well trimmed, snow-capped hedges lined the path, as well as some tall trees. Mary could only imagine what they would look like in Spring time. Soon enough, the carriage next made it into the circular main courtyard, a grand fountain standing at the center of it. Seeing how the water had froze over it created such a novel sight. Finally, the driver was able to bring the carriage to a stop just before the stairs of the castle.
"Brace yourself, Mary,"George told her while taking hold of her hand. "And keep your cloak on tight."
So hand-in-hand, the two of them stepped out of the carriage and hurried up the stairs before entering through the front doors. They were then greeted by a host of servants and maids alike, all wearing warm smiles. It was almost as if they had been waiting for them all along. Standing at their head, stately and dignified, was an aged man with steel gray hair and a matching beard.
It was him who stepped forward and, with arms outstretched, announced loudly,"Ah, at last, Master George has returned to us!"
Taking that as their cue, all of the servants bowed and curtsied in a unified fashion. Before Mary could ask anything, George briskly walked over the man and hugged him.
"Sir Thomas Osbourne!" She heard George call him."It's so wonderful to see you again, you old fox! How have you been, eh?"
The man, Thomas Osbourne, gladly returned his hug as he answered, "Well, my arthritis hasn't gotten any better, but doing just fine. Welcome back, Master George!"
George then pulled away with a bright smile on his face. "Thank you, Sir Thomas, it's good to be back after so long. This is all very...kind of you." He gestured to all the people gathered before him. Next, he signaled for Mary to join them. "Now allow me to introduce you to my beautiful young wife, Princess Mary Tudor, now also Lady Rochford."
Upon hearing that, all of the servants either bowed or curtsied in respect for their princess. Sir Thomas was taken by surprise at first, but it quickly wore off.
"It's my utmost pleasure to meet you, your Majesty,"He said while bowing low."I am Sir Thomas Osbourne, the official steward and treasurer of this household. On behalf of everyone here, welcome to Rochford castle, and may your royal presence bless us all."
Mary smiled pleasantly at him and replied, "Thank you very much, Sir Thomas. I really appreciate your courteous efforts." Sir Thomas simply nodded in response to her compliment, his face glowing with gratification.
With the introductions out of the way, George then asked, "Are our rooms ready, Sir Thomas? It's been quite an eventful journey to get here and we would like to rest for a while."
The aging steward grimaced slightly and answered with, "Not yet, I'm afraid. However, may I suggest taking you the dining hall for something to eat? You must be famished by now!"
"Perhaps..."George pondered before looking over to Mary for an answer.
"He is right,"She said shortly. "I am feeling greatly famished, George."
"Very well then, your Majesty," Said Sir Thomas in compliance of her request. He then dismissed the servants, who began to disperse and return to their duties. "Please follow me this way."
Sir Thomas turned and walked ahead with George and Mary following his lead. He led them around a right corner and down a hall, whose walls were decorated with the coat-of-arms of the castle's various previous occupants. Located at the end of the hall was the main dining hall. Once they reached it, Sir Thomas took the liberty of opening the door for them to enter. As soon as George stepped into the room, he was immediately dragged into the arms of a woman. She appeared to be the same age as Sir Thomas, with wrinkles indicating deep-seated wisdom and years of experience. Her hair, the color of rust with streaks of gray, was upheld in a messy bun. She also wore the garb of a servant, her white apron covered in all sorts of stains imaginable. To Mary, the woman closely resembled her old governess, Lady Salisbury.
"Oh, my little Georgie has finally come home from Court!"The woman exclaimed as she held George in a mighty embrace. Mary swore that she detected an Irish accent. "Oh, you have no idea how happy I am now that you are here, laddie! I sorely miss seeing your sweet little boyish face!"
"I've missed...ow...you, too, Bertha." George could hardly speak, or even breathe by then. It seemed that there was more strength in that frail body of hers than anyone had thought!
Sir Thomas sternly shook his head and said,"Alright, Bertha, I know you're excited to see Master George but it's time to let him go...lest you break his spine. Also, you should know that we have an important royal guest." He pointed to Mary, who waved timidly.
Bertha ended up having to begrudgingly release George, but not without giving Sir Thomas a sharp cluck of her tongue. She then looked back toward George to ask, "So I see that you're married to a princess now? The rumors are true then?"
"Yes, that is correct,"replied George with a nod, as he signaled for Mary to come over. "I present to you my wife, the Princess Mary Tudor. Mary, this is my head cook Bertha."
"I am most pleased to meet you, Lady Bertha,"Mary said joyously.
Bertha formed a kind smile and curtsied for her part. "Aye, it is I who am most delighted to meet you, Princess. Welcome to our humble castle. To be honest, I am shocked as to what a pretty girl like you is doing with a swaggering vagabond like Georgie!"
"Bertha!"George practically moaned from mortification.
Mary, meanwhile, had to suppress a giggle. She was finding it to be very entertaining.
"Calm down will you, Georgie? I was just teasing you that's all,"Chastised Bertha while laughing merrily. Though she suddenly became serious with concern. "My God, you two look like you're in need of some food to replenish your energy! Come in, come in and have a seat!"
Before George and Mary knew it, they have each been ushered into at seat at the dining table. Bertha wasted no time in getting to the kitchen, which can be accessed through a door at the other end of the room.
"Well that was interesting,"Mary mused out loud.
Sir Thomas chuckled as he sat down in a chair next to George. "Indeed, that's Bertha for you. Being born and bred in Ireland, she has a certain way with people."
It was then George's turn to ask, "Sir Thomas, did anything happen here that I should know about?"
"Nothing major that's worth mentioning, my Lord," the steward replied truthfully. "As always, I was able to lead the household staff in your absence without any problems whatsoever. I made sure that everything went as smoothly as possible."
"But he wouldn't dare interfere with matters of the kitchen,"chimed in Bertha who came in carrying a platter with two bowls. She was wearing a smug smirk. "Sir Thomas knows that the kitchen is my territory. It's a miracle that he hasn't chased away any of the servants with how uptight he is."
Sir Thomas scoffed before retaliating with, "Well someone needs to keep order around here! I'm just doing my duty as Master George's steward. It can't all be fun and games, you know."
George, in anticipation of Mary's question, whispered to her, "I know what you're thinking, Bertha and Sir Thomas have always been like this. They might not get along sometimes, but are in truth very good friends. Just trust me on that."
Their nostrils soon flared to a rich aroma, as Bertha passed out the bowls. They could feel their stomachs being aroused within their bodies. Mary was utterly impressed by how fast it took her to prepare the meals.
"Here you go, my finest bowls of fish stew,"she told them proudly. "Made with the freshest trout in all of England! I can recall that Georgie used to be quite fond of this dish, weren't you?"
George didn't need words to express how eager he was, from the way he licked his lips and stared at the stew. "Ah, nobody can cook quite as well as you, Bertha! I can't wait to get a taste of this mouthwatering stew." Using the spoon provided, he tried to eat the stew but Bertha struck his hand away. "Ow! That hurts!"
All eyes were now on Bertha, who calmly explained, "Pardon me, Georgie, but I want the Princess to have the honor of taking the first bite. Go ahead, your Majesty."
A sense of hopefulness shone within her hazel eyes, as she watched Mary partake of the stew for the first time. George was busily tending to his stinging hand. Sir Thomas, meanwhile, stroke his beard with subtle interest.
"Mmm...your stew is very delicious, Bertha," was Mary's final verdict. She then ate another spoonful with gusto. "I can honestly say that this might be the best stew I have ever eaten."
Bertha couldn't be any happier as she clapped her hands together in delight. "You are simply too kind, your Majesty! Thank you, this is a secret recipe that has been in my family for countless generations. I'm glad that you are enjoying the stew."
George couldn't wait any longer to plunge his spoon into the stew. Just one bite was enough to send warmth traveling throughout his entire being. He couldn't help but groan with immense satisfaction, careful to savor every morsel. Within minutes, he was done. "Well done, Bertha, you never fail to amaze me. Tell me, how have you and your daughter, Emily been faring?"
Bertha gingerly wrung her hands as she answered, "We were never better, though a lot has happened since you left. Emily met a nice lad and they got married a few years ago." She sighed serenely at the memory. "So now I am grandmother to their three darling little boys."
"She's married with children?"Repeated George who was stuck with awe. "I must have been gone for longer than I thought!"
"Six years to be exact,"said Sir Thomas.
George was about to speak, but was interrupted when someone opened the dining hall door. "Bertha? I caught some rabbits for you cook!"
The newcomer stopped in his tracks upon realizing he has came into the midst of a gathering. He was wearing a heavy fur cloak over leather hunting garb. Snow covered him from head to feet, but he didn't seem to care. Mary also took notice of his jet black hair that reached down to his shoulders. With one hand, he held five dead rabbits by the ears, while the other rested on the pommel of his sword.
The man's eyes scanned across their faces, until they fell on George. A grand smile broke across his face and he yelled, "Well, well who do we have here? Good old George is back! Don't just sit there like a whelp, come and give me a hug!"
"John!" Cried George in response with excitement. He rushed out of his seat and the two collided in a zealous embrace. "Fancy seeing your face here again, you pitiful wretch! What have you been up to these days?"
"I could say the same about you, smelly oaf!" Replied John in between laughs. "As for what I've been doing, just spending my days hunting and riding. What about you?"
At the table, Sir Thomas quietly told Bertha, "Watch out, the trouble-making duo has been reunited!"
The two men then separated to come face-to-face with each other. Smiling cheerfully, George began to explain,"Believe it or not, John, but I just got married last week to Princess Mary. We have come to Rochford castle for our honeymoon."
"Wait a minute, you? Married to a princess?" John cracked up in an instant, not taking George seriously at all.
"Ugh, not you too!"Groaned George while rolling his eyes."Just shut up and come with me , so that I can introduce you."John assumed a courteous demeanor as George led him to the table. "John, meet my wife, the Princess Mary. Mary, this pig filth is John Stark and he is my Master of the Stables."
Mary acknowledged John with a slight nod of her head. "I'm most delighted to meet, John Stark. I had no idea George that has so many servants here."
"Well, what have I done to earn such a wonderful privilege as this?" John spoke suavely as he bowed to her. "As your humble subject, I hereby welcome your Majesty to Rochford castle. Although, you should know that I'm not only George's servant, but I'm also his best friend. My father dutifully served the Boleyn family for many years, just as I serve George now. It was always us against the world when we were young boys together. Isn't that right, George?"
George nodded in confirmation of that. His eyes were filled with much sentiment as he gazed at the three of them, while saying,"Seeing you meet Sir Thomas, Bertha, and John brings much joy to my heart, Mary. For I don't think of them as merely servants, but also as my family. I mean, there's a reason why I had them transferred to my own household in the first place. They have served me faithfully during my entire life...therefore, I'm certain that they'll do the same for you. Am I right?"
The three of them answered with nods and words of agreement. They each were visibly touched by George's heartfelt speech; Bertha had to take out a handkerchief in order to dry her eyes.
Naturally, it was Sir Thomas who decided to speak up, "Indeed we will, my lord! In our household, we take great pride in the quality of the hospitality we provide. We always perform our duties with care and integrity. That said, we consider ourselves fortunate to have the tremendously remarkable opportunity of serving your Majesty!"
The others seemed to share his enthusiastic attitude. Mary smiled at the extraordinarily warm reception she was receiving from George's 'family'. It then occurred to her that she might be getting more than she first expected. Indeed, she was looking forward to experiencing everything that Rochford castle had to offer.
Another completed chapter, another round of writers block. It was definitely worth the effort. First off, I'm aware that George's title of 'Viscount Rochford' does not actually come with a castle, but this is Fanfiction so basically anything is possible. I'm also really proud of my OCs; I've never done that before but they just came to me in a sudden stroke of inspiration. I'm really looking forward to writing more about them in the next chapters to come. So not much had been going on politically or dramatically, but I'm planning on changing that real soon. For now, I'm just going to let George and Mary settle down in peace. I have BIG plans for this story so there's something you all can look forward to ;)
One more thing before I leave: I have a challenge for you guys to take on. The most reviews I ever gotten for a story was a solid 66. Bet you guys can do better? Your goal is to beat that number by leaving a review for this chapter. From what I can see, you're pretty much almost there! Alright then good luck! XD