"Weary? I will show you weary." ~Hilary Mantel, The Assassination of Margaret Tatcher.
Katherine shrugged. It sounded like Arthur was with another red-haired wench. Not that she cared. He could do as he pleased. She had what she wanted.
Little kittens ran around her daughter's chambers. She had asked why cats? "Dogs are tricky creatures, dumb and useless. A cat is like a sister or brother, he or she will never betray you as long as you show him kindness."
"I still don't like them." Mary said.
Katherine's eyes glazed over at Catherine Carey and her younger sister Anne Stafford. Catherine reminded her a lot of Mary, her daughter's aunt and namesake. There was no mistake, she was her husband's bastard. Her daughter however (thank god) had nothing of her namesake in her. She was blond, blue eyed and fair faced like her mother, in a certain light her hair seemed golden and alight with flames.
She returned her glance to Mary who was helping her maids give milk to the litter of kittens and their mother. Her daughter had always been a kind soul.
How much she missed of her childhood? She had always left her in the care of her governesses. But she had been a good mother. She had given her the best tutors and she played with her whenever she could. She never let the priests touch her, even her father. Mary was her daughter, her darling gift.
"What are you going to name him?" Mary asked excitedly glancing at her mother's swollen stomach. It was hard getting used to the fact that she was younger than her, she hoped her sibling would be a boy so she would be safe in her position, though if it were a girl, she would still love her and look after her sibling as she had looked after Bess.
"I don't know yet. Your father and I haven't discussed names. He has been busy tending to the North and the war with France."
"Is he really serious about going to Calais?"
"He is, you mustn't worry about that. If he leaves he will leave Charles Brandon or his council in charge to protect us."
Mary laughed. "That is so unlike you mother, I mean lady stepmother." She rephrased quickly as lady Anna of Cleves and her sister stepped in. In a lower voice she said after they turned away when they finished their curtsy. "You should be the one running the kingdom, I grew up hearing how you were the brave warrior princess going to battle against the Scots."
"That was largely exaggerating and it wasn't me it was that sniveling coward's father, or should I say not so coward since he volunteered to go with your father."
"He did?" Mary asked, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. "Aren't you worried?"
"About?"
"He might say the truth about you."
"So? Your father knows and what the king says is word."
"But ... the others ..."
"As I said Mary, your father knows, you were there when he and I told you my little secret. Do not be so concerned my daughter, I will make things right. I made you a promise to fight for you and keep our loved ones safe and I will do that. Trust me."
"I do." Mary said but she wasn't entirely convinced. Even as she hugged her mother she couldn't help but feel something was very wrong.
Mary was her father's daughter. Arthur thought grimly. She looked like him, she had none of Catalina's beautiful strawberry blond hair, none of her kind smiles and most of all none of the kind glint in her eyes that had endeared Catalina or Kathryn now as she called herself, to the crowds then and now.
He glanced down at his hands. Two days from now (ironically) would be the anniversary of her arrival to England. That had been a beautiful day. The skies were clear, it was cold but nobody minded. He was standing next to his father, in between him and his mother seeing the pageantry from Cheapside. When she reached her final pageant at St. Paul's churchyard, she laughed. A merry laughter, the kind you would only hear from angels, then she knelt before the archbishop and rose to receive the many gifts from the guilds, the mayor of London and representing his parents, from the archbishop. Then she made an offering to the female Saxon saint inside the church then went to the Bishop's Palace.
His mother warned him not to fall in love with her. Her voice cold but her eyes kind and her frame delicate disguising her true feelings regarding him and his first sister Margaret.
Her harshness always pierced him, it was as if a canon shot through him. He didn't care that she pretended to love their father, it was the way she behaved with his sister though. Margaret wanted her to love her as she loved their younger siblings but she received nothing but coldness. Their great-grandmother Cecily was less cold. There were times when the woman would admit why she couldn't love them as much as she did their de la Pole or their relations; but at least she tried.
Arthur was lost in time as Henry emerged from his presence chamber into the great hall with his wife, her arm linked around him as if she was a teenager. She is a teenager -he reminded himself.
Near seventeen, in two days she would enter confinement and if the graces were good she would at last deliver what she always promised, a son.
Arthur shook his head. There was nothing much to read in his brother's eyes. He was made in their grandfather's image, not Edmund Tudor, but Edward IV, the first dashing, young womanizing Yorkist king. The sun in splendor. Henry likewise, considered himself golden and his reign godsend.
He wondered, thinking back to that time when his mother kindly but firmly reprimanded him for expressing his open feelings for Katherine after he watched her leave to the bishop's palace; if her maternal relations would have been so famous and triumphant if it wasn't for Elizabeth Woodville's magic saving her from miscarrying her sons. She had given birth to four sons, two who died young but two who survived and their deaths were what condemned the entire Tudor dynasty.
If it weren't for them, the Tudor dynasty would have never been. Then again, if they had been saved and Edward -his uncle- was crowned, would the Woodvilles keep the late king's promise to safeguard his father's return and honor his betrothal to Elizabeth?
Arthur smirked. Likely not.
He hated when he heard his mother speak of how strong Henry would grow up to be, how he looked and acted like a king and how he reminded her of her lost brothers, especially Edward whom she claimed was made in their father's image.
Well there it is mother, your precious son, murderer of two wives and his people.
He took another silver cup. Nobody noticed him, nobody ever did. Henry didn't even glance at him. It was as if he was invisible.
His eyes centered on Catalina, making eye contact with her. She could almost figure out what he was thinking. She had known he had been watching. He thought he had been so careful when he sneaked into the bishop's palace, disguising himself as a beggar, asking for charity. The palace was surprisingly not well guarded, it allowed him to enter into the hall where she and her ladies were dining. She caught a glimpse of him, he was about to run but then he noticed it wasn't him she was looking at but the pie that her servants fingered at. Arthur took this as his cue to escape. The next two days he spent trying on his best clothes. He already knew what he was going to wear, but he wanted to make sure it matched his jewels and his boots.
White and gold, that is the matching colors they had decided. Catalina had written him three months prior that she would have it no other way. White was the color of purity and gold was the color of the sun and she considered their reign would be golden. Arthur didn't like a lot of pageantry, he preferred to tend to important matters like reading, and discussing theology or as his father, tending to business matters. But she was adamant and she would have it no other way.
So there he was pacing back and forth in his father's great hall in six on the morning, already dressed, already jeweled. His mother with a smile on her face told him that if he did not look like a king before, now he would. He knew what she really meant you better not screw this up.
His father gave him great advice to think of nothing when he said his vows. It will be easier. Does it work? He asked. Yes. His father said trying not to laugh. Arthur raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. He explained him that when he was crowned and later married to his mother, he felt he was about to throw up and so he thought back at the other times when he had been nervous. Prayer didn't work, though it helped at times it didn't take the nerves away, so he just thought of nothing. Blank your mind. When they ask you of your vows say them, once your mind is blank there is nothing in here to bring an impediment to what you are about to say.
It seemed logical. He found his vocal chords dry when it was his turn to say his vows, he was about to but then closed his mouth. He couldn't remember them, then he remembered what his father said and it suddenly came back to him. Catalina smiled, holding his hand after he did. Her smile was all he needed to gather up the rest of his valor, and walk next with her from St. Paul to the great hall of the palace where a great banquet awaited them.
He woke up from his day dream memories. Catalina was looking back at Henry, laughing -not the way her alleged half sister Kitty Howard had laughed, but a discreet, soft, merry laughter; the way you heard from "angels."
He dropped his cup. He needed to get out of here.
He went to the gardens. He kicked the grass and the red and white flowers with his black boots. What did he need to do prove himself? Hadn't he done everything that was asked of him? "What more do you want of me?" He asked to the heavens.
No answer.
He asked again and again, no answer.
Of course. He was up there in His heaven, while the rest of them were in hell watching everyone tear themselves apart.
What was the point of bringing him back?
His great-grandmother had said something about God works in mysterious ways but surely this could not be God's work. He had seen things in his short time he had been brought back. Things he had only seen in his nightmares sucking people's souls, using sticks of wood to manipulate people, kill people. Arthur didn't understand these things; he had never read about them in the histories. There were rumors about men and women as powerful as gods who could change matter and people a will with a snap from their fingers. They called these sticks wands and they held the power of the universe.
But Arthur knew better. After he watched this display of magic and realized it didn't affect him or any of those that came back; he began to study the ancient texts, hoping to find anything to explain this abomination.
Wizards, witches, warlocks, was what they were called and the magical creatures that fed on people's souls were called dementors, those with the ability to suck only a portion of it or breath life into another body were called wraiths. He heard of very powerful beings who could control these creatures and even the witches, wizards and warlocks were not powerful enough to stop them. Beings who came from the stars and could possess others be reborn in many different ways.
He wondered if these celestial beings were the ones that brought them back, if they were the ones behind the latest dementor attack on one of his brother's courtiers when he was a child?
He heard a twig snapped. He wheeled and found a cloaked figure. She pulled down her hood, she smiled at Arthur.
"I wondered how long it would be before you snapped. You always had a thing for red-headed women, your grandfather Owen also spent his time whoring with red-haired women, first Katherine Valois and then your bastard grand-uncle's mother."
"Hello mother." Arthur said.
Mary didn't feel very good. Her sister got along fine with her mother, yet there was something about her she suspected and terrified Mary that she could discover her identity and then blame her for what happened to her former beloved stepmother, Kitty Howard.
Mary didn't wish for Kitty's death on anyone, even Kitty. She hated the way she was betrayed by her own family. There were times when she wanted to ask her mother how she could forget about what happened to her, but she never brought it up because she feared it would create a rift between them.
Bess was closer to her mother, she spent great time with her. Her mother said Bess had been kind to her and for formality's sake she had to show her favor as she was through her new identity, her cousin.
Mary completely understood that, but she hoped she wouldn't get too close to the point that Bess found out the truth. She wanted her sister to feel comfortable around the new queen, the way she had been with Kitty. She didn't want Bess to be so depressed; her sister had a tendency for self-pity, even more than Mary had and while Bess had all the love and jewels that she could wish, there was just something that Bess could never have and that was happiness because Bess felt she had to have it all, not just a little of everything, but everything to be happy.
Mary rubbed her head. She had to stop thinking of her sister or anyone else. She excused herself from her mother's chambers. "Are you okay?" Bess asked her.
"I just feel light-headed. You can stay if you want to."
"No, I will go with you. Your Majesty if we can be excused?"
"Yes you may, shall I send my doctor lady Mary?"
"No, Your Majesty, I just need a little rest. Come Bess." Mary said and the two retreated to her chambers.
Bess had chambers of her own but she always visited Mary's, occasionally she criticized her lodgings when she thought Mary wasn't hearing. She thought her older sister could do better. Bess' chambers had the best of everything, they had been re-decorated with bright colors and her bed had the best linens not to mention that her dresses were always up to date and she wasn't afraid to copy all of the new queens or their father's favorite ladies' fashions because appearance in the royal world was everything.
Today there was nothing to criticize, and no one to engage in conversation with. Her sister dismissed all their ladies after they changed her into a simple chemise. She felt even more horrible as she got under her covers.
"Are you sure you are all right?"
"I really am Bess, it's just this headache, it must be something I ate or perhaps it's the stress."
"I don't think it is really that , you should see the doctor. I can return to Her Majesty to summon hers."
"No, there is no need, I will be fine in the morrow."
"I will stay with you then." Bess said decisively. And Mary knew there was no way to dissuade her. She took down her beautiful bright blue with gold, pearls, diamonds and other gemstones, dress and took down her golden diadem which had been the envy of every teenager in court, and putting on a simple chemise she took from her sister's wardrobe, she got on the bed.
As Mary slept, she had the most awful nightmare. She was roaming the woods chasing a boy that looked awfully like her brother Edward. He was playing with another girl she guessed was his sister because of how much they looked alike. They were teasing each other.
"Edward you can't go in there. Mommy said bad, mommy said bad!"
"Mommy said bad. Mommy said bad. Wah, wah, that is all you say. Look at me Elizabeth, nothing bad is happening. See? Mommy is wrong."
His sister threw leaves at him and wheeled around, running, screaming. "Lizzie going to tell mommy. Mommy!"
It was not a dream, Mary realized as she stepped closer to analyze the boy's features. It was a memory, Edward Seymour's memory.
But why was she reliving this memory, and why her? She didn't understand any of this but since there was no way to wake up until morning and that could take a long while, she chose to pay attention to the rest of the dream.
Elizabeth came running minutes later. "Mommy coming. She angry at you."
"Stupid! You always ruin everything." He pushed her to the ground.
"You no scare me. You stupid one."
"Speak clearly idiot."
"You idiot." Lizzie said, laughing as he became angrier. He was about to reply when they heard something from the woods.
"Eddie what that?" Edward wondered the same thing. Like his sister, he was too scared that he didn't correct her. Grabbing his hand, they turned and started walking back to the castle when out of nowhere that which they had heard appeared in front of them.
"Eddie I scared."
"Shh, Lizzie it will be okay. I will protect you." That didn't make her feel any safer, she started whimpering and to reassure her, Edward let his guard down to kneel down and hug her.
It was in that moment that that thing ... that creature pulled back his hood and grabbed him, lifted him from the ground. Lizzie screamed wildly for her mother to come but nobody was coming.
Eddie was still as the creature pressed harder so he would open his mouth.
Mary saw with horror as mistress Margery Seymour finally came. She thanked god that the older woman had heard the call of her young daughter. She found herself praying for the young earl of Hertford; she had no reason to. Everyone hated him, he was cold and emotionless but there was something in him that had always attracted Mary and half the other women at court. He was handsomer than his brother, and he had spoken for her when no one else had and given her many gifts before her father restored her to favor during his sister's reign.
Her prayers amounted to nothing. Mary saw as his mother pleaded with the creature to let him go, out of nowhere an older man with a long elegant stick with a stag necklace appeared. He laughed at her and told her he'd come to collect his payment. He waved his hand and the thing opened his mouth, Edward had opened his too out of some unknown instinct and in less than a minute it was over.
It had sucked his soul, leaving him soulless, his limp form lying no the ground with his eyes closed, his skin cold to the touch. She could not touch him, but seeing his pale form, Mary imagined that is how it felt when Margery Seymour took him in her arms and returned to the castle.
The memory faded and was replaced by another one. In this one Edward woke up as if from a dream with a smile on his face. The color returned to his cheeks and he seemed calmer, more controlled than before. It was as if nothing had ever happened. The next memories hit her like a whirlwind, she saw him grow up, rise through the ranks, becoming a warrior, politician and finally a husband (twice over), there was nothing out of the ordinary with him. Even when he had visited her and he had fallen ill, cold and manipulative as he had been with her to the point that she cursed him and berated him for treating her in such a manner, she never saw anything unusual.
True, during his illness he had mumbled some strange things but that was it. And he was ill so that was natural. But then when she reached his final memories she saw a figure ...No, it was not a figure ... it was a shadow, *his shadow*, being projected on the floor as he prepared to go to sleep -his bed empty once more, no doubt his wife was spending her time with Bryan or any other man who was more willing to please her than her own husband-.
Mary walked slowly to get a better view. The shadow got darker, it seemed plastered, painted on the carpeted floor. Mary brought her hand on her mouth, drowning her gasp.
Edward Seymour's head perked up and rose from the bed, his shadow got stronger and as he walked in her direction she walked back but when her back hit the wall she started to tremble. She didn't want it to touch her but it did, as his shadow touched her form she felt a strange jolt, a rush going through her.
Edward Seymour raised his hand to her. Did he see her or just sensed her? She wasn't sure. If he did see her why hadn't he acknowledged her presence? The closer he got, the more she struggled to break free of her invisible chains; she felt like she was on fire, tied to a post like she was a heretic and subjected to the flames.
She prayed that somebody would wake her up. She could not breath ...
Mary woke up with a jolt, clutching her chest, gasping for breath. Elizabeth looked at her with great concern. "Mary what's wrong? You are burning up. I am going to call the doctor-"
"No, no please don't Bess I am fine, I just had a bad dream."
"No." Bess said arguing with her sister. She could be very stubborn, she always thought she could do anything. The other ladies found her amusing, the younger ones that is. They didn't understand what was it with her sister and her love of war, swords, books and talk of battles and horses and hunting. Bess loved books too but she didn't get lost in them the way her sister did, she loved to dance and engage in conversation with others instead of just closeting herself from the world like Mary did.
Bess brought with her after their maids came up to dress her, doctor Butts. He was the official royal physician, a favorite of their father.
"You have always been delicate, your health has always been frail, my late companion Linacre often told me how they needed to look after you my lady when you were young. You need to be put under that regiment again it seems if you want to get better. It won't make you stronger but it will take you out of harm's way." Butts said, speaking indifferently to her.
Mary never liked him. He was a staunch Protestant and unlike the late Cromwell who was more of a conciliatory and pragmatic nature, Butts believed there was no need to bring aid to those who didn't wanted to accept the true faith.
He as Cranmer saw Mary as a rival.
Give me a Cromwell any day -Mary thought. Though he had not been a doctor, she would have preferred his company any day. The man wasn't blind to her faith nor to her allegiance, but at least he did try to make things better for her.
"Thank you very much doctor Butts, I shall follow your directions."
"I am glad to hear that, I will leave the directions with lady Susan, make sure you do follow them this time though. The king's eldest daughter is still considered a valuable gem, it would be very sad if we were to lose you."
"I can assure you, you won't." She said, unsmiling, her dark grey eyes piercing the doctor's brown ones.
The doctor gave her a fake smile and departed, he had a bigger one (and a genuine one) to give to the lady Elizabeth, asking her if her lessons were going well. Doctor Butts was also a humanist and he spent a great deal discussing theology with her father and other like-minded people.
"My Greek needs practice but my Italian is far better now. I just translated some of the new gospels and updated the recent histories"
"Ah very well done my lady, you are truly a credit to your gender and to all of us."
"You flatter me too much doctor." Bess said sweetly.
The doctor felt taken with the former princess' smile. It was no wonder why so many had been enchanted with the lady's mother. Anne Boleyn had been a courtier, an accomplished young woman, a woman who was a true cosmopolitan, dedicated to reforming the churches and helping the poor.
If only she had not shared that sad fate like the rest of her friends and brother, what a great queen she would continue to be. He had no doubt that England would be a faithful country and in given time, it would be the queen sitting in Kathryn FitzHoward's place, waiting to give birth to a boy.
But alas, their Majesty had been too unkind to her. But maybe it was for the best. Their present queen although a Howard seemed very distant from her uncle and she didn't say anything regarding reforms and she didn't waste her time pleading for the lives of Catholic prisoners like her half sister did. Poor creature -God rest her soul- but Kitty Howard should have never been queen. The poor lady Elizabeth Tudor loved her because she treated her like the princess she was, but the girl showed more favor to Catholic prisoners, never once speaking for members of his church.
He hoped the new queen would have a son, that is if she was a true member of the church. If she wasn't then god would wreck his vengeance no doubt, He always did.
"Is my sister going to be all right?"
"Your sister has always been very weak, if she follows my directions then theoretically she will recover. I have heard from your friend the lady Anna of Cleves, the king's sister that our present queen wishes to arrange a marriage for you both?"
"Yes 'tis true. Her Majesty has been speaking to my father about it."
"May I speak freely my lady?"
"You don't have to ask for my permission doctor, you know you always can with me."
Butt's smile became lighter. Truly, a princess in every way. He leaned forward as her sister's bedchamber doors were closed. "I think it would be wise if you accept over your sister."
Elizabeth blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Your sister is very weak my lady, another fever like this could kill her."
"But you said she was fine."
"I did not want to frighten you and much less her, it could put her under more stress. Your sister is pure in every sense of the word, but she is not strong and she is too thin to carry children."
"She is beautiful, any man would be lucky to marry her."
"Any man would but beautiful is not what counts in a woman. Your father is a great man for noticing the qualities that make women truly beautiful but other men look for other things."
"Like what?"
"Well there are wide hips, certain clothes, attitudes. Your sister is very accomplished and if she were a nobleman's daughter, her beauty would be more than enough." The royal physician explained, painfully admitting that the king's illegitimate daughter was beautiful. Very beautiful. Some said more than her sister. Butts did not want to take it that far. He just admitted she was very beautiful, if he was a young man he would be all over her like many other men were, but the lady Mary was also stubborn and she walked more like man, talked more direct and brashly like a man and engaged in activities that men did like gambling, hunting and talking of war and battles and dreaming of glory. Things that women should NOT engage in.
"Sir, my father wed both our mothers for their beauties."
"Your father is a different man from other kings, other royals are not. They want a woman who listens to them, who doesn't fight them."
"What is wrong with a woman speaking her mind, you encourage me to all the time."
"That is because you are so well accomplished and your brilliant mind needs to be heard but your sister is too brash."
"And if she wasn't then, would that make her eligible?" Bess asked, hoping that she could convince the doctor that her sister was not only beautiful, as he reluctantly admitted, but very accomplished. Mary had her faults, which were many -Bess admitted, but she also had her attributes.
"Any man would be happy to have her."
"My lady any man who is not a royal. Royals expect much more but in any case, supposing she does make her husband happy, the single act of giving birth would endanger her health. She is not strong, you just saw that."
"But Mary wants to get married. She says she doesn't but I know she does. I can't ..." She trailed off thinking of the times her sister had looked warmly at the babies she held in her arms, the children of her tenants and best friends who had named her their godmother. "be the one that kills her only chance of normalcy."
"My lady you will have to if you want to keep your sister alive."
Bess looked down at her shoes, golden with pearls. These were the shoes that Mary had given her, the design was one that she had come up with the late Kitty Howard. She hated her with every fiber of her being, but just for her sister she got along with her so she could give her the best present.
No. I will not ruin her happiness.
She thanked the doctor and returned to her sister's chambers.
"What did the doctor say?"
"Nothing." Bess said quickly changing the subject to their afternoon evening with their stepmother, the queen.
As Mary complained of another headache on her way there, Bess thought on Butt's words. She loved her sister but if she had to do it, she would to keep her safe.