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The next is an old poem about Henry VIII coronation in middle English so the wording is quite different from contemporary. Many on time screening from main and supporting characters, some surprises, small and large. Multiple POVS.
Enjoy!
Chapter #35: I have no reason to fear anyone
"Adonis of fresh colour,
of youth, the goodly flower,
Our Prince of high honour,
Our paves, our succour,
Our King, our Emperor,
Our Priamus of Troy,
Our wealth, our worldly joy!
Upon us he doth reign,
That maketh our hearts glad,
As King most sovereign
That maketh our hearts glad,
As King most sovereign
That ever England had.
Demure, sober and sad,
And Mars's lusty knight,
God save him in his right"
~Henry VIII's virtues and good looks tribute by Court Poet John Skelton (1509); in "Mary Boleyn: Mistress of Kings" by Alison Weir (p.25)
1558, November 2nd
Westminster:
The King of Spain and their Queen Dowager sat apart from their four hundred guests in a raised gallery. They watched the rest of the inhabitants with godly eyes, they were but insects before these two powerful sovereigns. As usual the Lord Protector in his grandson's absence, because of his minority, sat in his place at the center of the table presiding over the Royal Banquet. To his left were the King and Queen of Spain and England respectively. In a few days time the Queen Dowager and her eldest daughter would leave for Spain with its King. She would relinquish her title and her responsibilities.
The Queen of Scotland and her new Consort was with her next to the King of Spain and the Queen Dowager's left. As they were considered a royal couple, they were not seated with the commons or with George's immediate family because as it was in these rare occasions when the bride was sole heiress of a larger fortune than the groom, there was no use to.
George was jealous to see Mary flirt with the handsome men of his sister's court, but thankfully her attention always returned to him.
She was thankful he was not some crazed freak demanding full obedience. She had enough of that in France with that Italian.
She met the glare of Katherine Tudor who -much to the young courtier's dismay- was seated below with the other courtiers. She gave the little wench a twinkle. This is the pitiable creature George was willing to forsake the alliance for?
Pitiable. Utterly pitiable, the poor creature inspired nothing but pity. Beautiful and with mesmerizing eyes, but she was not so different from the other mindless ladies who sought, adventure, love, power. Bah! Love. For young Katherine Tudor, love was equated with lust. She had spent her life in this little island, she knew nothing else. She had been raised as a Princess but was no different from the other mindless courtiers that made up this court.
A lot of people were sad to see their Queen Dowager go. The common people loved her and called for her blessings instead of going to the Church as had been customary in the old days when England had been completely Catholic. Some that remained adherent to the old religion were asking their local bishops, who could barely speak their flock's dialect, to ask His Holiness to canonize Anne Elizabeth.
She was a Saint, they claimed. A saint, an Angel who, as Eustace had claimed so long ago, had come to Earth with only one purpose, to bring peace on Earth. There were those that went farther. Much to her husband-to-be chagrin. They equated to the Holy Mother, she in fact, he feared when she left, would have altars, shrines in her name by the Church her grandfather had created and her husband had radically reformed, and she had changed even further to create a harmony between the old Conservative and the growing radicals. Her departure in Spain, a powerful Empire yet pagan in their eyes, was compared in the old Catholic tradition of their former Mother's ascension into heaven.
Philip was seen as her savior, her lover, and her God. He was not willing to accept such honors, they were blasphemous and affront to the power of the true Holy Father and the true religion.
Nevertheless, it was what the people believed and who was he to tell this country what they should and should not do?
Alexei's aid filled the goblets encrusted with rubies, amethyst, and other gemstones with wine from the palace's cellar which he had asked to as other nobles' aides.
With three minutes to go or less, the aid hurried to deliver the cup to his father in law. Alexei crossed his arms to his chest, first sign of weakness, the give away to a dead man's plotting, waiting impatiently for his plan to unfold.
Three minutes, two minutes, one minute ...
Nothing happened. Philip never drank from the cup. The Spanish Philip gazed down at his German counterpart and gave him a short smile as he looked from him to his daughter Katherine who now insisted on calling herself Catalina. The King of Spain had spared him humiliation and saved his eldest daughter's union.
"Something on your mind My Lord?" Annie asked with a raised eyebrow.
Philip's eyes remained down and Annie turned to their direction. She knitted her eyebrows with slight confusion. Why was he so interested now on her supposed father?
"What has he done now?" She asked thinking there was no other reason why Philip would have suddenly gained interest in him.
"Nothing" He said shifting his gaze toward her "Absolutely nothing."
"Then?"
"I believe I just saved His Grace from utter humiliation and your sister from a disastrous annulment"
Her confusion increased.
"Your Lord Protector" he said naming her father by his title in case there were spies "told me that after your accident before you had gone into labor, he and the Russian Duke plotted against your mother and your father in case of an uprising"
"Why? My parents have spun their little webs in the past, nothing major. In any case I would have birthed daughters or me and children died then Diana would have taken her father's place as Queen of England. People were ready to receive her, even the moderates whom Edward had fought long and hard." She said.
Philip flinched at the mention of her dying in childbirth. It was a possibility turned higher now that she was crippled, but he would never let it happen. He reminded himself constantly that Spain was very different from England and they had the best doctors, the best medicine that they learned from the Infidel Moors. Nothing could happen.
Then there was the matter of her memory. He proceeded to explain how Mary playing on the loving grandmother, would turn Diana into her puppet.
Annie protested to this. "Diana is not stupid. She is a child, a little naive, but not stupid. And there would be my father. Edward left it in his will, it was his intention-"
"It was his intention to leave in his will the future King or Queen would be assisted by a Lord Protector until such monarch reached the age of majority, of his choosing, but he died before that could happen Annie. And he only included His Grace and his wife's names as possible candidates not as THE actual ones to take on the role" He corrected adding then with a little smirk "Parliament in Mary's control and with her puppet Bishop would have opted for her as Regent or her husband, he being her puppet too, she would have been Queen in all but name."
"But that would make little difference. Parliament would have chosen them as they chose thanks to my Aunt, Her Grace would have been chosen in the worst case scenario as Lady Governor or Lady Protector" She argued, however her pregnant pauses told him she wasn't so sure of her argument.
"Annie, Diana would have been a puppet Queen and you know it. Your daughter is an intelligent girl but Mary is a woman hardened by years of experience. You know what the end result would have been"
Annie could not argue with him there.
"But what does this have to do with my sister and ..." she paused, giving a momentary glance to what had been until now a memory. "Alexei? Surely you don't think ..." Before she could finished he nodded.
She shook her head.
Oh Alexei, she thought. Was he really so in love with her that he had been driven mad by his loss of her to the point that he would forsake his happiness, if there was any, and his own family for her? And for what? What would that bring him?
Did he still believe that he could win her over, sweep her off her feet with poetry, his good looks? He was nothing to her now. They had been in love, that was true, but that was in the past. After Edward's promise she was not sure she loved him, and after their engagement was announced she was sure that what they had, had not been real. They were young and inexperienced and they believed their emotions were real.
Philip in turn, watched the young Russian Duke who would become the future Czar with some apprehension. He was not jealous, he had no reason to be. Annie flirted occasionally as was the custom in England, living up to the old standards of chivalry in the age of the troubadours. But there was nothing special to it. Philip had had his share of women, they never meant anything with the exception of one he'd pushed from his mind as soon as he set his eyes on his future wife.
Yet experience and being raised by the finest tutors, and that included his most hated yet more blunt and reliable of them all, Zuniga, had taught him to be weary of certain men for their aspirations to his possessions.
Philip recognized in Alexei the look of a desperate and ungrateful man who would do anything to rid himself of his wife. In a way he was no different from Henry VIII who would not mind tossing aside women for his pleasure. Ironic, he thought, since the man had no blood relation to the Tudors yet he was married to one and he despised her.
He had formed an early opinion of Isabella Tudor-Wittelsbach, His Grace's wife when she intervened on her half sister's behalf and led him to the dance floor. Before His Grace, the Duke of Sicily, the Lord Protector, before Ruy, before anyone, Isabella had been the one who led him to the path of her parents' schemes. And he saw how close she and Annie were.
"Consider it my wedding present to you and my thanks to your sister for leading me to you."
Annie felt overwhelmed with joy, she was entirely in her debt.
"Wait until we tell Bella she will be so happy, it is too bad she will have to deal with a grumpy husband. Some women are not so lucky as me"
Philip returned her smile tasting the sweet wine of his goblet as he glanced to the young Russian Duke whose eyes were ablaze with fire for his plan being thwarted. "You do not have to thank me my goddess, I consider myself the lucky one for being blessed with someone like you."
Their head approached. Knowing he was watching them, Philip kissed her in a furious,passionate kiss, drawing gasps of awe, shock, and dismay, and of course the longing sighs of poets and ladies.
"What was that for?"
"Are you complaining?" He asked her.
She gave a short chuckle "No. But the people,"
"Let them speak, we will leave soon, let's give them something to talk about, this dancing, music was getting on my nerves, finally we have something to spice things up"
She cocked her head. Handsome and rapacious rogue! Whoever had the idea of painting this man as the cold, murderous Prince had no idea of the real man lurking behind those "cold"eyes.
They continued to enjoy each others' company. Neither of the royal family in the gallery talked except the couple to be. Alexei felt the air squeezed out of his lungs. He had to get out of that room. On his way out he bumped into someone.
"Excuse me..." He stopped in mid sentence as he realized who it was.
"Fancy seeing you in here" He said. Times like these he wished to be drunk so he would not have to keep this hypocrisy.
"Oh you know me Your Grace, I am fancy seen everywhere, it is after all a nice hallway to explore" The stranger said taking off his ridiculous dark green with black hat with a ring of coins around it.
"You are a disgrace to your race Fitzpatrick"
"That is Lord Beauchamp to you, remember I was made a Viscount by His late Majesty" He reminded him with a wide grin that was the fools and "new men" such as he trademark.
"Tell me Barnaby-"
"Uh-uh, Lord Beauchamp"
"Fine then My Lord Beauchamp tell me how is it a disgusting, filthy, wretch like you gets to be promoted to Viscount and awarded the palaces stolen by the King from his dead uncle?"
"Oh my, my, my, Your Grace such powerful accusations" Said Barnaby in hurt mock raising his hand to his chest "You break my heart. I thought you were different, I thought you sir spoke for the poor, for the poor wretched folk class like me-"
"Spare me your lectures man, I am tired of them as it is. What are you doing here? And make it quick I do not have all day to hear your nonsense"
"Nonsense, nonsense Your Grace? " He said dramatically, in mock again, then he turned serious. "Look Your Grace I am not going to lecture you, God knows you need some" he muttered "but let me just tell you to stop your amorous pursuit for Her Majesty, it is useless. First when she was simply Lady Anne, then as Queen, now as Queen of Spain. What will you do when she moves to Spain? Will you follow her at world's end?"
"No disrespect but what the hell is that to you?"
"None taken." He sighed "Your Grace has a beautiful wife very few covet for her piety and because of their respect for you but that respect is thinning. Your Grace needs to get his act straight and forget about the Queen. I say this not to you as a friend but for the King"
"What does he have to do with this?" Hadn't he done enough damage already?
He was the man responsible for ruining their happiness! Damn that man, and God forgive him, but damn his soul to hell!
"Your Grace misunderstood the King. He loved the Lady Anne very much. He whispered her name from his dry lips before he fell from his horse. I think he wanted to say more but alas fate was too cruel. If you took the blindfold from your eyes you would see that Her Majesty still longs for her late husband. Philip is the man she's always dreamed of, the man that warms her heart and she may have given a big portion of it to him, but the remainder will always belong to his late Majesty."
Alexei searched his mind for a reply but found none. He was at a loss of words and for the first time he realized Annie was gone to him.
"She is really gone" He whispered, his eyes downcast.
"No Your Grace not gone. How can something that has never been ever be gone?"
"Damn you Barnaby, you are a real son of a bitch anyone tell you that?"
Barnaby smirked. "Oh it was what His Majesty Edward, may he rest in peace, told me every time. He did not use those kind words though"
Alexei chuckled.
"I see I brought a smile on Your Grace. Life is a merry thing. People make so much fuzz about it being nightmarish. Nothing ever ends Your Grace. Edward never meant to take your lovely Anne from you, he was only afraid you'd hurt her as you are hurting your wife now"
Alexei had been cruel to Bella. He'd mocked her, humiliated her, and for what? For a memory, for an illusion he created out of resentment? Was it his love for Anne that caused him to hate her, to compare to his ultimate prize, or was it more his pride of being ousted by Edward?
Barnaby made a wooing noise and hit his head, jesting: "My, my, the time Your Grace. I have to go, this arm is not getting any better" He sighed "Shame though I would have loved to joust again but then again my late friend always told me that I was not much of a jouster anyways."
He turned on his heel and left.
"Barnaby"
Barnaby momentarily turned, clutching his arm that was giving him an excruciating pain.
"Yes Your Grace?"
"Thank you, I was wrong to doubt you"
"On the contrary Your Grace you were right to doubt me, but return to your wife and forget this all happened. She needs her Alexei" He spun on his heel and left for good this time.
How lucky the Duke was and how foolish he was for making him realize it. He should have let him continue with his rage, humiliating Isabella. But what would that cause to his conscience? He was tired of sleepless nights, nightmarish dreams, waking up in cold sweat. He owed it to his sweet lady and to his late friend's Queen to have the happiness she deserved. But it was really his sweet lady.
He was not lying when he said very few looked to Isabella. She was a beautiful woman who could not help her situation. Barnaby hated Edward for giving her away into a loveless marriage. He had begged his friend and parliament for her hand but again, his lack of nobility, made it impossible for them to marry. Oh My Lady if you could only know. He thought sinking into his chair miserably. She would never know and if she did, she would laugh and dismiss it as courtly love, something purely vain.
If she only knew how beautiful she was, how the candles lighted her eyes. How they sparkled every time she was in the sun. He tried speaking with her but the Duke was always around her making it impossible for Barnaby to get near her and then there was her mother. The woman cared very little for her but she had ambitions and she was scared that Barnaby would ruin these ambitions, having noticed he lusted after her daughter.
He did not lust after Bella. His feelings for her were genuine. He told Edward that if he made her his wife, he would treat her with the respect she deserved. He even tried again after Bella had lost her first child but his friend always said no and the Duke and she seemed to grow more distant. Edward's constant need of him made it impossible for him to get near Bella.
He jumped on his bed and eyed a flower vase in one of the tables at the center of his parlor from his bed. Beautiful red roses and daisies. They were a poor replacement for Bella but watching them brought him peace.
Annie and Philip were in each others' arms. Philip was playing with one of her strands of hair, making circles with his finger.
"Why so serious?" She asked.
"Mmmm? No, nothing. I was just thinking"
"Why so serious?"
He let go of her hair and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "It is nothing"
"It's not me" She said in a soft, yet imperious voice.
He gave a short smile. How could he refuse her?
"Fine, it has to do with my son"
"Oh?"
"He's seen your sister's portrait and it was reported he stayed silent for an entire hour and then giggled like a love sick boy"
"So?"
"So it worries me. Your sister is not the idiot she has us believe, I have seen it in her eyes. I know from experience"
"With women?" She asked chuckling.
He did not return the chuckle. Annie always brought in him the worst, but he couldn't avoid his passion for her. He was ashamed that they behaved so, yet they could not stop, their need for each other was so great and she always seemed to take advantage of her sexual prowess after their love making, to get the truth out of him.
"Come Philip, I am not naive and I can handle it. As long as they don't steal me away"
"No one can steal you away" He said firmly his head leaning down to her lips. They were locked in a deep kiss.
She momentarily forgot about the conversation until their lips parted and she was reminded by the uncertainty in his eyes.
"What is really bothering you hmm?"
"It is Carlos. He wants an excuse to depose me and if your sister gives him a son ..." he shuddered making a short pause "I cannot begin to imagine the monster that monster will get"
"You should not call him that. He is your son"
"He is a monster Annie, he is a monster and a spoiled, arrogant, selfish spoiled little boy who never misses to remind me that I should give him his due as Prince of Asturias and appoint him Governor of the Netherlands. I have told him no, that belongs to my baseborn sister, Margarita"
"So give it to him"
He looked at her with disbelief. "You can't be serious!"
"Philip the way I see it we are not getting any younger. I will be thirty soon, could be past the age of childbearing. I want to give you sons I really do but you must consider the possibility that if I can't or if I can only give you daughters, he is 13, he can give you sons. Granted maybe not strong, sturdy sons but sons which is what you need"
He kissed her again "You will give me sons, I know it, many sons and our sons will trump over that monster"
She broke their kiss "What if his sons are not monsters? Have you considered that?"
"They will be"
"What if they aren't? What if they are different. We can't choose our parents Philip, remember our first conversation. Regardless of who our parents are, we have our own personalities, we make our own choices. No one can deny your father's military career, but you are remembered not because of your father but because of your actions, your Regency, your merits earn you your memory, your praise. It will be the same with Carlos"
"What if he births a demon Annie? Demons often come in the shape of sheep"
"Demons are what people make of them. And no, I don't think Carlos will birth a demon. I was birthed by one believe me Philip I would know" This earned a small chuckle from him.
"See? Nothing terrible will happen, if he has a son, and if we have a son and both are healthy at the very least, then his son will take the throne" Philip moved his lips but Annie added quickly before he could protest "He will be raised by us. You are the King, the Cortes dance at your tune, they move at your rhythm, even if they hate your son, if they see he's birthed a healthy boy they would not want him to be corrupted by a mad man would they?"
Philip was surprised at her wit.
"Annie the Cortes would not take him from his parents"
"Even if said parents are a negative influence?"
He shook his head.
Annie's gaze fell.
"But I could try" He would berate himself years from now for promising something he could not deliver but now it seemed like something good, and he was only thinking about bringing her peace.
"For us" he added.
With brisk movement he pinned her down and started to push inside of her. She was taken by surprise but she liked the way it felt down there.
"Philip ... Philip" she cried burying her fingers in his hair. Their souls merged with their simultaneous releases.
"Oh ... Annie" he moaned lower than feeling the last of his seed leave him.
He was drained the next day, they did not dare to come out of bed.
In his arms Annie felt safe, she felt secure. She felt like nothing could ever go wrong. My Prince, she thought. She knew she was painting a false portrait of him, but what did she care? She was Queen, Queen at last. After so many years, she would be Queen of a united kingdom. She had done her duty to her country and King, she had given them a King and with her father as his Lord Protector, there was nothing she needed to worry about. And Diana ... her precious Diana, her little hunter who reminded her so much of Elizabeth, would go with her to be raised amongst splendor and riches beyond her imagination.
Why did she have to worry?
A/N: I will get a beta reader very soon, so if you see some grammar errors, I am correcting a lot like I have recently corrected lot of things in chapter 33 and 34, and like I said I am a perfectionist and I am still correcting it, not meaning those two but other stuff in all the previous chapters. However I realize this is fanfiction. The poem at the beginning of this chapters show the promise Henry VIII reign brought. Thomas Moore, even Thomas Boleyn was quoting saying magnificent things of this "virtuous" King. Likewise because this chapter was filled with so many male points of views, I thought it would fit since all these male characters hold a strong position of power.