King Henry VIII stood there, rooted to the spot. He had no desire to disrupt Katherine, for he knew how she treasured every second that she had with their precious daughter. Neither did he want to retire to the rooms he was to share with her for the entirety of the French visit, for he knew that he would not be asleep by the time Katherine joined him, and he was in no mood for another of her explanations as to why their marriage was valid.
Katherine, queen of England and infanta of Spain, sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, oblivious to the presence of her husband. She was entirely fixated upon Mary, not wanting to miss a second with her. Mary truly was the perfect child. So accomplished, and growing lovelier each day. Katherine was struck by how much Mary could be like her father. She had the same red-gold hair, the same infectious enthusiasm for everything, even something similar about how she stood. It pained Katherine that all of this couldn't be enough to satisfy Henry. She yearned to give him another child, a son, to fulfill his deepest desire. But she knew that giving them only Mary must be a part of God's plan for them, and she only wished that Henry could bring himself to accept whatever the Lord had in store for them.
"Oh, I'm sorry your majesty. I didn't realize that you were here!" exclaimed a maid come to put out the fire in the princess's chambers. She quickly turned on heel, not wanting to disturb their majesties any more than she already had.
Katherine jerked upright, surprised by the maid whom she assumed was speaking to her. She was in for a greater surprise, however, when she saw her husband standing in the doorway.
"Henry, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were there. I didn't mean to stop you from seeing Mary," stammered Katherine, not wanting to cross her husband in any way.
It pained Henry to think that he had done that, had turned Katherine into someone so nervous that she would think that he didn't want her to spend time with their daughter.
"No Katherine, I would never begrudge you any time spent with Mary. I had simply come up to look in on her before retiring. I had thought that you would already be asleep. When I saw you there, I didn't want to disturb you."
Katherine rose from Mary's bed and, with one last look at her sleeping daughter, swept past Henry. In that moment he could see the flickering fire reflecting the tears in her eyes. He made as if to reach out to her, then pulled his hand back, unsure of what he was doing.
"I shall retire now my lord. You are welcome to join me in my chambers whenever you see fit," intoned Katherine, wanting to leave before Henry could see just how deeply it hurt her that he pulled back, that he had not joined her by their daughter's bedside.
Henry stared after her, unable to make himself follow her. He had no desire to join her in bed, for he knew that he would never hear the end of it from Anne if he did. He instead turned and made his way to his daughter's bedside.
There, he was transfixed by Mary's beauty. He noted with pride her Tudor-red hair. She was a beautiful child, a true English rose. He was struck, however, by her resemblance to her mother. Her skin was pale, but not in a sickly way. He knew that when she was awake, her lovely almond shaped eyes were a soft grey, the very image of Katherine's. And the little girl was petite, and unlikely to grow tall as she aged. He laughed to himself, thinking of the number of times he had teased Katherine about her height, drawing a sweet laugh from her. He missed her laugh, and the way that her eyes would sparkle up at him …
Henry shook his head. No more of that! He had to divorce Katherine, for the sake of his dynasty, for the sake of his PEOPLE. He had to have a son. There was no alternative. Katherine had not borne a living child since Mary, and only one stillborn in the six years since Mary's birth. Anne Boleyn was young, beautiful, and a daughter of both the Howards and the Boleyns, families full of strong men. SHE would be able to give Henry what he desired, and what he needed. If only Katherine could see reason.
Noting the chill creeping into the air, he was struck by how much time had passed. It was late, and he was tired. With a sigh, he turned to go to the Queen's rooms. But he went with a heart steeled by the deep, driving need for a healthy, living son and heir.
Sorry for the long delay on this one ... I caught a case of writer's block, and then midterms came along, and I just neglected this somewhat. I promise to try for weekly updates from now on!
As always, hope you enjoy it. Please review! I have a path for this story set in my mind, but I love to get your feedback!