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Chapter #43: A Shadow On The Wall

"Three great men, a King, a priest, and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword, each great man bids the sellsword to kill the other two. Who lives, who dies? Power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick. A shadow on the wall and a very small man can cast a very large shadow"

~Varys to Tyrion Lannister in Game of Thrones, season 2 promo

1559, December 25th.

England, Greenwich, Palace of Placentia:

It was a cold December when she came, nobody knew what she really wanted but those around her did. She wanted to make her authority over the Princess, her new messiah, known. Just what was she plotting? Who was she consorting with? What thoughts traveled around her wicked mind? Eustace thought with a passing glance at the Duchess of Bavaria.

Mary carried her granddaughter without shame nor glory, seemingly, around court. She paraded Margaret as Edward had paraded Diana and handled her as she had handled her first granddaughter in her arms. Momentarily she would stop when she would meet Bess and the wet nurse she had assigned for her grandson King William. A battle of the wills ensues whenever they look at each other and Bess purposely upon seeing her elder sister –and one time heir to the English throne- carry Margaret in her arms; will carry William and purposely rock him as Mary did Maggie.

"Sister" she greeted rocking Maggie. She had the true heir of the English throne in her hands. Nothing Mary says or does can hurt her but Mary keeps her eyes focused on her sister and the tiny green and purple bundle, colors symbolizing the House of Tudor and nobility, she was holding. "What a pretty boy is our Majesty"

"His Majesty shall be addressed purposely and you shall bow before him" Bess said in a commanding voice. Already more than a year since they were blessed with the arrival of these twins, and she was already winning the hearts and minds of everybody and reaffirming her authority.

"Ah my sister forgive the poor memory of this poor woman"

"Mary that is enough I do not need your pity, the King will be respected and addressed properly, we are all his subjects including us, more importantly us he will receive respect from. Never remember that" She emphasized heavily, raising her tone at her sister in her last sentnece.

Mary agreed "Of course not sister" She curtsied lower than she ever had for the little dwarf "Forgive me for my folly, Your Majesty and Your Grace" she said to each, her grandson and sister and then carefully taking Maggie from Martha's hands, she turned on her heel and left.

There were murmurs and whispers. Mary did not mind. The more they whisper the more I know they love me and see in me the true heir, and in my granddaughter.

Why you little one you will be the one to propel me back into grace. She briefly turned to see the English throne, there it was in all its glory, its seat occupied by her sister's husband, the man Mary claimed she'd once love above all earthly things with the boy King on his hands.

She threw him a sardonic smile, he looked away, and she turned back and continued with her pace.

Damn that woman. Eustace could not stand the sight of her and it angered him that for Bess and his children and his grandson's sake he had turned away from his religion and what he considered the True faith to ensure their safety. For the thousand time in a row he reasoned this was the best course he could have taken. His grandson was safely on the throne, and the people looked up at him with smiles and approval, and with fear knowing that he was a man not easy to please and at any sign of danger he and Bess would not hesitate like her grandfather, Henry VII, to destroy them.

Bess handed the baby boy to Eustace who rocked his grandchild but he refused to go to sleep, he wanted was pointing at his grandfather's nose and then his own noting the similarities. Eustace was thankful he had not inherit the infamous Seymour nose. Other than his nose, the boy was all Seymour and Tudor. His eyes though were thankfully not. Bess thought the scene between them was cute.

The people below also thought, unbeknownst to him, that this scene was a cute one that touched the hearts of many of them. "The Lord Protector loves the babe so much"

"Aye" some said lowering their voices, looking around to see no one was listening, aware of the Lord Protector's spies "His Grace shows he is His Majesty's mother true father"

"Who cares?" some said back "Our country is tired of these dynastic disputes. I say 'tis good the old Princess left, she was under that papist's influence and her husband the foreigner"

"'Tis good she left, England would just have turned back to the old ages" Everyone agreed it was a good thing that their former English Princess had not ascended to the English throne. Many who remembered their parents and grandparents stories of the war between Lancasters and Yorks, shuddered at the thought of another cousins' war. England had had enough of civil wars. What they needed was stability. And so what if their late King's wife was a bastard, was the King not legitimate? Had the King not married by the new church? Had he not produced a healthy and chubby, bouncing baby boy?

Who cares? Season was good, crops were abundant and under the new Lord Protector and his wife, indomitable Bess, England had opened its door back to trade. It was no longer an isolationist country and save for France, it was friends with everybody. The words was theirs to take and everyone was practically begging now for their friendship.

Tis was better –they agreed- the Princess Diana had left her claim and her English title. She had always behaved like a foreigner anyways.

Eustace played with his grandson's fingers. William rarely cried, he saw his grandfather's schemes and he seemed to always guess what the older and more experienced and worldly man plotted when he played wrestling with his fingers. The one year old King thought long and hard and when he figured it all out, he pushed his fingers through his and untangled with an ease that surprised Eustace his fingers.

Eustace raised his eyebrows. William giggled. I did it! He raised his arms in the air and then down in triumph.

"Very good Your Majesty" He praised. In no time you will be untangling the webs of mystery and deceit on those around you. He was growing into a young negotiator and it was Eustace's job –he was going to make it his lifework- to teach William the ways of the world and turn him into a just, cunning, and wise King that embodied all the ideals from which humanism was based upon.

"Having fun?" Bess said making faces to William. William answered with sticking his tongue and then, in an action that threw Bess right off, pressing his lips forward and raising his hand to them and blowing imaginary kisses at her.

Bess did not know if she was with a baby or with a copy of her father, who had been said to have been a charmer since birth. Of course it was exaggerated but seeing this behavior of her grand nephew it made her wonder.

"He loves you, he loves his aunt, don't you Your Majesty" Eustace said in a mock bow which seemed to please the King as he clapped his hands together many times and then put them on his hips, seeming to demand more. On cue he said "More, more" It was the word he learned to say more. He was a year and month old but already he could say many phrases but often times he preferred not to, learning better through observation and carrying the strong virtue –he no doubt inherited from Eustace- of patience.

Eustace felt obliged as the whole world was watching and bowed his head into submission to his grandson.

"Lord ortector" he said in broken English surprising his subjects below who applauded, he turned to them and waved at them. More, more, he wanted to say but he was conscious that it was better to let his subjects wait so they would be the ones asking for more, more.

As always his open smile showing his growing white pearl teeth got the reaction he'd craved, he clapped his hands, for him the world was his playground and they were his toys.

Bess rising and bowing before her nephew asked in a funny and respectful gesture "May I have His Majesty's permission for us to retire?" She meant them and Eustace.

Eustace did not have to answer for his nephew, the chubby boy Eustace held in his arms that sat on his lap gave a powerful and majestic nod and opened his pouty thin, rosy, lips "Govness … ath … permission" he said. He appeared a different boy altogether from the former pouting, giggling, cheerful boy.

"He is a King" Eustace explained when they left the King in the nursery. There was a secret passage which connected the nursery right to hers and Eustace's chambers, just in case.
"He knows he has to act prudent and he is cheerful only when he needs to because he knows it is what his people like love"

"You mean your people, they are your people too"

After all these years Eustace still had not gotten used to these English men. It had taken Bess many years getting him used to the food and the climate, but the people still unnerved him yet he got along with them very well for her sake.

"That they are" He offered sarcastically slipping into the covers. They had left court but court continued feasting and gorging themselves on the food. Eustace sometimes felt like he and, he hated to admit, the Duke of Bavaria, and Alexei were the only ones there with manners and self-control. Bess and he however had had enough excitement. The Ambassador from Scotland had arrived bearing good news that Mary was pregnant again and the baby would probably be born around mid July.
She had called her maids to undress her and put on her red nightgown, she wanted to show Eustace her best. When Eustace saw her body through the gown despite its red color, the color of passion (his mind told him), he discovered he still hungered for her.

"Bess" he needed not say more as she pressed his body on hers. She wanted another child, if that was possible. He undressed her and with little effort she pulled down his breeches and pushed her tiny womanhood into his large one which, she saw, was already aroused.

"Eustace" she moaned over and over as she lost herself in this sea of pleasure. He pushed himself rougher into her pumping his seed, feeling it leave him. Just when he thought there was nothing left she came.

He gave a long loud sigh that lasted in her head as they went to sleep.

He did not know he had it in him. Bess hoped they had made a child. William in her arms made her want to be a mother and more so after George's absence and the birth of her grandson, which the Scottish little minx did not let her carry.

Oh well … she had survived well on her own before Eustace came, she did not have need of a man but she wanted, God she needed another child. She prayed to the everlasting Providence to intercede on her behalf and let his seed blossom, hopefully into a red rose daughter, her own little Princess. She wanted her own daughter ever since Annie and then again when she'd seen the newborn Diana in her stepdaughter's arms.

A child, she thought unknown that he had heard of her pleas.

Eustace got near and kissed her neck, Elizabeth moaned but she was fast asleep and could not distinguish if this was a dream or not. "It is not a dream" Eustace said but Bess remained with her eyes closed. Eustace wrapped his arms around her thin, very thin form. Eustace wanted nothing more than to grant her wish but he was old and his seed was probably as old and decayed as his. He wished to be young again to give Bess what she wanted. God knows, he thought, she deserves much better.

He closed his own eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep, the gout did not disturb him.

1560, February 2nd

Months passed and Mary and her charge, the Princess Margaret remained. One day Bess got tired of wondering about her sister's motives, especially since she had cast a sardonic smile over to her flat belly. She knows -she thought. She had to, otherwise why this behavior? And she asked straightforward when they were alone in her chambers: "Why have you come here Mary? Tell me the truth" Elizabeth demanded.

"Imagine you have something between your hands, a riddle" Elizabeth crossed her arms, sighing in frustration. She was not up for her games. "But …" Mary paused looking carefully at her sister "..at the heart of this riddle there lies a game about who rules"

"Don't do this to yourself sister you will give yourself a nosebleed. The King is the King, power is with him, content yourself in your position for once"

As she made her way to the door Mary interrupted her with a dry tone and a smug smile that made her turn.

"Ah but therein lies the riddle my sister Bess, imagine that the King is not the one who holds all the cards, all the power"

"Get to the point I do not have your patience although I believe you neither had it"

Mary smirked "My dear Bess here is the great riddle: Three great women, a Queen, a religious advocate and a noblewoman."

"Sounds like it would be good material for fairy tales sister" She said snidely.

Mary ignoring her reply continued with her tale, "Between them stands a mercenary. The three great women ask this mercenary to kill the other two. Who lives, who dies? Power lies in the hands of those who believe the power lies. It is an enigma, a trick" she paused looking at Bess, their gazes locked "A shadow in the wall."

Bess walked to the door and pit herself between it and her sister, blocking her entrance; for her part Mary said nothing as she waited for her sister's reply to her little parable. In case anything should happen to the parents, come what may the Tudor dynasty would survive and with a male heir to boot. Like two witches casting spells on the cauldron they brood over their families' futures.

Bess had traveled back and forth with bribes, threats, and uneasy alliances in their father's and brother's court. An alliance with Mary? –It was nothing. Their ancestors had done everything to survive and so would she.

"I have been trained to kill my enemies Your Grace" She finally replied.

"As was I" Mary said imitating her sister's deadly voice.

"What do you really want … sister?" Bess asked in an even lower voice.

"What do I want? Your approval, your frankness and the promise of an alliance"

Elizabeth laughed "Why would I offer you my friendship? Is there any need when you are the Princess' governess and grandmother?" Her tone almost accused of what Bess had coveted, her ambition had gone as far as wanting the governorship of Princess Margaret. And why not when Eustace Chapuys desired to substitute his absent daughter with her look alike? It was a poor trick, a poor cheat, but Eustace loved Annie above all his children that he wildly thought having Princess Margaret with him and Bess would be like having Annie again.

Margaret would grow to be HER child. She would know only one mother, and if Annie ever came to England again with her half breed children, and Diana, Margaret would not see them as her family. She would run to Mary's arms. She would beg for her voice to tell her bedtime stories, for her hands to tuck her up at night.

Indeed, Anthony was reputed to be the most handsome man. They had sons by which the future was calibrated, initially Mary had pleaded for the only thing that mattered –to inherit what she considered her birthright and pass that right of inheritance over to her only son –Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach.

The overtures of what she planned for her brother turned against her, Henry had been the one killed and she was left without son, without heir. There was only one minor male heir to her line, but he was a baby boy. Someday he will be a man –but that would not be in many years to come –she answered.

She spared no venom to Bess counting on a future where the two sisters would unite as they once had, as true friends, as full blooded sisters, to live in peace.

She maintained that it was for their best interest to unite, but she did not get her sister's interest until she revealed her true intentions.
"You have a son, you are with child"

Bess was not impressed, why should she when they had been mothers? Mary twice than she. She knew the symptoms well enough.

"What are you proposing Your Grace?"

"Our two bloodlines, two women, one child of yours, one grandson, granddaughter of mine, the ultimate prize"

Bess smirked, shaking her head, cackling as her mother had with an eerie calm before meeting her end by the sword. "I will involve this child or any of mine in any useless battles. What will you propose you do when you have the English throne hmm? Will the English people side with you, with me? A bastard declared by the pope, product of an incestuous affair?" She pointed her finger to her chest "A bastard by her father's decree. The King is the King Mary and you should be proud he is your grandson as my grandson will be King of Scotland and maybe someday …" Bess took a step closer to her sister giving her a smug smile "…my future great granddaughter or the daughter in my belly become Queen of England"

"Oh Bess I am not distressed to have lost you for I feel inferior when I am with you. You are a cunning one sister"

"As you, I was trained to kill my enemies and put my blood on the throne"

"Through a woman" Mary said with laughter.

"A Queen births a son, from a Queen the future of England is kept safe or she brings doom. Today, tomorrow or in fifty years from now, a daughter of my blood will marry England's King, your daughter's brood and we will have what we want. Two sisters' bloodlines unites"

"You mean you will have what you want. Annie was never my child, my blood but not my child"

Bess gave a playful smile turning around and twisting the door knob "Next time offer me a more juicy proposal, I never play for maybes and lost causes, I play for keeps sister"

"I too Bess" –She said. She had almost forgotten her other proposal between bookie Jane and her nephew, Bess' oldest boy –Tony.

She yielded to raw emotions. She forgot her own self-pity for his. An outcry followed by falling on her knees. No one could have been more surprised than her husband who looked like he'd seen a ghost, white as chalk. "Mary"

Already Henry lost a lot of blood. Her ladies found her writhing and crying in agony as she rocked her son's limp body. These ladies shared her agony and it was one of those few moments where she lost her colossal self position. The two had loved each other, she wiped the blood of his body and smeared it at her face, she hit his chest hoping t would bring him back to life.

Philip shook her and warned her not to pity his fate, but to rejoice for he was with God now. "No, no! My son, my beautiful son!" She turned to Annie "This should have been you. You" Her finger went flying in her direction "I shall never forget this Annie, I will never forget this!"

While Henry's dead body lay in her arms, their warmth doing nothing –the body remaining cold; Edward must have celebrated on his nephew's death. She knew, she just knew that it was all Annie's fault. That child had never warmed up to her, she never loved Henry. Oh why, why? Why –she asked the Lord- why did you have to take my Henry? He was supposed to be King. I was going to be the King's mother. I was ready to take on the role my great grandmother took when she rose to her greatness after her son had taken the crown from Richard III dead boy at Bosworth field.

I was going to be the King's mother. Why did you do this to me? I have done nothing but be kind and gracious to all those around me. Was it because Annie?

No answer.

She looked at the rosary she took from under her pillows "I tried loving her I truly did but she was always cruel to me, she spoke things, I could hear her say things behind my back. Nobody liked me. Save the heathens you say, be nice your son said. Did you have to abandon my son as yours?" She demanded opening the window of her chambers in her granddaughter's household and yelling to the night sky "You were supposed to be there for me." But you are not. "You are not" She closed the window and locked the door. "And it is all because of me" Because I married a heretic, because I did not fight for the man I truly loved.

Deep in her heart she knew that this was God's punishment for abandoning her faith, for signing the Oath, for failing to protect her mother, failing to fight her father, but above all –failing to fight for the man she truly loved.

To think –she smirked- that if this had not happened, she and Eustace would be married and the child inside Bess would be hers. Henry would have been far luckier having Eustace Chapuys as his father. Eustace would never have conformed for the royal autopsy, he would have fought and fought until the guilty parties were brought to justice or he would have taken revenge on them.

She married a fool while her sister was living high on the life she'd always dreamed of.

"Where is the fairness?" Mary asked slipping inside the sheets of her bed, closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Eustace who missed nothing passed the plate of quail, hot bread, cheese, peas and pork to Bess. "You need it more Milady, two eat more"

Bess eyed him. Could he suspect? She pushed the plate away and took her napkin to her lips "I am not hungry"

"You should" Eustace said with a broad smile, his hand reached across the table grasping hers. It felt warmth and sweaty, he could see the truth in her eyes, and she was a trembling, a clear sign. "Bess, honey I know. There is no need to surprise me"

"H-how…"

He chuckled, he squeezed her hand "I have been godfather to thirteen nieces and nephews from my brother and sisters and Bess … you are obviously showing now" He said, his eyes pointing to the small bump on her red and gold gown.

"Oh" She felt disappointed, she had not wanted to make a big deal out of this, but seeing as this could be her final pregnancy she wanted to give Eustace a big surprise. Now she was very disappointed. The surprise was ruined.

Eustace knew what she was thinking and said kindly "You look just as beautiful as when I married you, maybe more mature, more wise but you are still the same young woman I fell in love with. You have made me very happy. I would not care if you told me now or days from now, but I know how much your overseeing of His Majesty has been hard on you and George's absence so I did not want to stress you more"

"It is not that … is just that" she looked pointedly at him. She had to know if his happiness was due to the fact of the baby or that he still loved her.

"Just that what?" He asked with obvious concerns. Could it be true what he'd heard from one of the Dudley men that he'd seen his wife favor, Robert Dudley, one of Northumbeland's older sons; that she was growing tired of him. Was the child his? He shook these thoughts from his head. How could he even think such things? Of course the child was his! It had to be! He and Bess shared a bond that transcended every boundaries of age, heaven and hell.

It had to be. He'd already been hurt once, he would not bare it a second time.

"Bess …" he urged, his thumb stroking her pale, soft skin "you can tell me"

She gave a warmth smile, she decided to tell him of her concerns. "I am afraid you will love this child, that your love … is for me … for the child, not for me but for the child"

Eustace gave a mental sigh of relief. So it was not what he'd previously thought. With this solved he looked at Bess with strong determination and softening his grip around her small, thin, pale hand he said "Bess I will love you no matter how many children or not you give me. I married you because I loved you not because I cared of a male heir or any of that. I love you for your strength, for your wisdom but above all for being yourself and not pretending"

"Is that true"

"Bess I can lie to everyone but not you. You are the only person I have felt this strong for, you are the only …"

"Woman in your life?" She finished her sentence for him, although it came more as a dubious question.

"Yes" He answered passionately "You are my Cleopatra, my Clytemenestra, my Hera, my Aphrodite, you are my …"

"Your muse" She said, finishing his sentence, this time it did not come out as a question. She was sure of his words.

"I love you Bess" He said. The cynic, the opportunist, the pragmatic, the uncaring Ambassador and many more other terms that had been associated with him, prior to meeting Bess. He'd abandoned his old life and his loyalties to Charles and the Empire for her –and (to this day) he never regretted it.

"I know" Bess answered embracing their hands with her other free one. "And even if you did not say it, know that I would never let go of you Eustace, you are mine My Lord and I mean it" She said with a powerful grin.

Her hand let go of them and descended to her belly. Only six months remained but she already longed to see her child. She'd always been fond of Annie but she wanted a child of her own, a daughter, to raise.

When she told the world the gentlemen had not taken long to congratulate Eustace and asked his secret. "How do you it?"

"What elixir do you take?" "Can you give me some?" Some of these young rising nobles, new men asked who'd been battling to get their wives pregnant. Eustace replied that there was no secret, only all the love and respect in the world to his faithful wife. To which all the young men rolled their eyes and thought that his old age had transformed the once cunning ambassador to a hopeless, senile, romantic.

Bess laughed at the men and women giving them odd looks. They were young, selfish men and women who did not know the true meaning of love.

She touched her swollen belly. As she was pregnant she could not engage in the royal duties, it certainly made it frustrating since she had not yet gotten used to confinement and the thought she would have to go in it soon frightened her.

She was an old woman by her sons' standards. Forty four and she hadn't yet had a miscarriage, she only given birth twice. At her age pregnancy meant life or death, most certainly death.

Anthony was by her side like a mother hen every second. He made sure that she was eating right and by the looks of it, it seemed like he was the one waiting for his child instead of her husband.

"If this is how Tony asks, can you imagine when he marries?" Eustace asked his wife as he lied next to her in the bed clapping her hands.

Marriage. She hated that world. It had been bad enough seeing her son, George, married. Now they were talks of Anthony having to be married … wouldn't these plotting and games ever end?

Mary came with a proposition when she visited court last month, they'd talked since the last time she approached her with that treasonous affair; of uniting the Grey-Brandon and the Chapuys' household. "Impossible" She seethed. How could Mary think such a thing? What good would come out of marrying her son to a Grey! And a mousy one at that! The girl was pale and thin as straw, light as a feather. She was not good for childbearing, she did not have wide enough hips.

But Mary did not give up. In her letters to her sister, she argued what in years to come Bess would see the error of her ways, that a house united to the Greys could make it easier for them to control their enemies and their ambitious cousin, Frances Brandon.

She agreed but why use Tony? Why not another boy? But there was no one else –Mary argued- they would wed to the Greys and she was right –partly, but Bess refused to use her child in their schemes.

Tony would marry with whom he wanted to, whoever he wanted to if he came with the proposal of a peasant girl, Bess would say yes. But if he came with the proposal of Jane –she would say no. No, and that was final.

Bess' thoughts were brought to the present by her husband's jokes of their son's paranoia over her pregnant state. "This child will be very loved by her brothers"

Eustace laughed. He knew better than to question Bess but he was intrigued how could she know, "How is it you can tell it is a she, is it the ways of her or his movements, the form of your belly?"

"Those are just wild guesses, I have dreamed of her"

"I married an oracle then"

"There really is no science to it Eustace, a woman knows simply. The girl moves as fast as Tony did when he'd sensed Annie or you near, George you remember how he was silent. The position of my belly has nothing to do with it either. George made my belly so swollen down, with Anthony my belly was not as swollen. This child I just know, I know you are a man of science as me but call it instinct"

"One more thing" He said kissing her nose.

"What?" She asked brushing her lips against his.

"Will she be as strong and beautiful as her mother and our sons?" She was surprised that this was the first time she had not mentioned Annie, but she guessed it was because he had finally accepted that she had grown up and had her own life –as George.

Either way it made Bess' glad. She was always worried that his love for Annie would overshadow his love for their sons. Now that she saw it was not, she felt more at ease.

Annie would always be her child, but she needed to have a child of her own and she always wanted a daughter.

"That depends if you will tend to her studies as you tended to all our children?" She said including Annie in the equation.

Eustace kissed her earlobes and his lips traveled to her neck, suckling on her delicious, soft skin, the smell of her perfume made it more intoxicating. She moaned.

He withdrew his lips and gave her one hungry kiss in her mouth feeling her tongue on his. He opened his eyes.

"Of course I will, we both will take over her education, this time just you and me raising this child together, if you want to Bess"

"You know I do, but you must let me have the final word. Even when I am wrong I will be right"

Eustace could not argue with her logic and continued with his trail of kisses.

A/N: Next chapter there will be a brief time jump as well as the final result of Mary's plotting. As Varys would say cheekily, who lives and who dies in this game of thrones?

Please R/R