I wasn't sure if I should call the Queen, Katherine or Catherine. In Spain it's spelt was a K and in England with a C. In the last chapter I've often used the 'K'. I have finally decided to write it as 'Catherine'. Sorry for the confusion I've caused everyone in the last chapter!
The residence of the exiled Queen was located in Cambridge shire, far west in England where not many noblemen could easily penetrate the castle walls or others to escape its ruthless hold. The lands surrounding the Castle were mostly marshlands and fen. While many thought Catherine despised her life and spent each day gnawing her nails in anxiety but the truth was far from it. Catherine was feeling absolutely and utterly blissful. Life felt weightless as if a mound of heavy bricks had been lifted off her exhausted shoulders. A couple months had passed since the meeting with Doctor Johnson who had pronounced her pregnant in front of the ashen faced Maria who spent days counting the birth day of her child. Catherine laughed at Maria's effort for her health to remain hale and hearty. Maria prepared vast quantities of food and stayed close to Catherine's side as if she were to receive an injury if a single pebble fell upon her. The woman was truly a good woman and the only one she could trust to help nurse and raise the babe budding inside her.
Catherine peered down at her round swelling belly. Her womb had reached a robust size and to be honest the very largest she ever had. Mary had been a tiny baby and her other children, god bless their souls, were an third smaller than the one growing inside her this very moment. This was truly god's gift for all her toil that she had gone through. Catherine often thought of her eldest daughter who had gone through a great deal after her banishment. The poor girl must be suffering at the tainted actions of her father. She knew that if her daughter, Mary knew of her pregnancy then maybe a glimmer of delight may arise for her. Unfortunately, The King had banned the mother and daughter from seeing each other or even communicating by letter. But that would never stop Catherine.
Catherine called forward a serving girl who immediately arose from her position at tending the fire and bowed slightly.
"Aye, milady?" she squawked, cradling her hands, caked in ashes.
"I would like to write a letter" she said modestly. These simple words were enough to get the young girl grasping a clean parchment, dark ink and a single writing utensil.
Holding the familiar smooth sheet of parchment paper, Catherine grabbed the plain black quill and began to write and compose. After feeling fully satisfied with the contents in the letter, Catherine sealed it and handed the dispatch to the serving girl.
"I will provide you money to travel in secrecy to Hertfordshire. If you successfully deliver this letter to Hudson House, I shall offer you enough pounds to buy a comfortable cottage in the country side" Catherine recalled King Henry mentioning in one of his letters that Mary had been sent to the Hudson house until she had learned to obey and not disapprove her father, the King. Anger fumed in Catherine at the thought of her precious Mary spending her days worrying and praying.
The dirty girl beamed at the prospect "I a'int gonna fail ye, milady!"
"I very much hope so" Catherine murmured, trailing her eyes away from the blissful girl. The plan was simply perfect. No one would suspect a young girl would be carrying a letter of much importance.
The young dirty girl clumsily bowed a second time and hurriedly exited from the chamber.
Soft rain drops pounded gently on the dye-stained window glass and created shadowed droplets on the cold cobbled floor of the miniature papal. A young brown-haired teen girl sat kneeling in the direction of a golden cross and large icons of the Virgin Mary. The young maiden remained kneeling even when the Spanish Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys entered through the small timber access. The old man sat in one of the wooden benches located at the back of the Church and patiently waited for the Lady to finish her prayer. The lady didn't seem to budge from her former position; it was clearly obvious she wasn't slightly bothered by the other figure. Finally, Ambassador Chapuys stepped forward and cleared his throat, signifying he had something of importance to say
"Lady Mary, the King asks a final time to sign the petition…"
"I will not…" Mary said stubbornly, immobile in her kneeling spot.
Chapuys sighed; he felt an overwhelming pity for the young girl. Her mother was exiled and she declared an illegitimate. King Henry had forbidden Mary to see her mother and therefore strained the only closest relationship the young girl now had.
"I'm sorry I could be of no help at this moment but this is the only way to redeem yourself with your father"
Mary stiffened at his words and gradually stood upright, still facing away from the Ambassador and gazing toward the golden cross.
"And be declared a Bastard?" Lady Mary murmured in a hushed voice.
Ambassador Chapuys stayed silent, contemplating his next words of reassurance, but Mary continued.
"I will be signing away my legitimacy and further saying my mother's marriage to my father was unclean because my mother was the widow of my uncle!" Mary turned to face Chapuys, wrath and anger running in her coffee brown eyes.
"I refuse to! Tell the King I reject to do his bidding"
"I fully agree with you, my lady. You hardly deserve this cruel fate bestowed upon you. Next time it won't be me enquiring about the petition, The King will most surely send the Duke of Norfolk to persuade you or another of his close servants" said Chapuys, his sorrow building for the young girl.
The deprived Lady Mary closed her eyes in weariness and stiffly shook her head, the brown curls bobbing up and down. "None will sway me from my true title. I'm a granddaughter of two powerful sovereigns. The bastards of Anne Boleyn will never have the same noble blood streaming in their veins like mine"
Ambassador Chapuys grinned at the wit and prideful nature of his lady and agreed with her. She was the only true Princess in England and no one would contradict that, except for the power hungry Boleyn's who have frequently sinned against god in their ambitions.
"Come, Lady Mary. It's time you retire"
Mary yearned to disagree and continue ranting about all the unfair treatments she had been receiving but she was also tired of shouting, protesting, crying, praying, begging… All she wanted was to run. Run far, far away to where her mother was. Mary sought to hide away in the country and never return to court. She could not bear the shame to return to court and be forced to serve the wretch witch, Anne Boleyn. Before her depression could fully intensify, Mary straightened her dark black gown and followed Ambassador Chapuys out of the chapel.
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