Tudor Pavanne: Twists

Belle drifted through the next few days in a fog of shock, see-sawing between quiet happiness at her accomplishment, self-derision for that accomplishment's simplicity, quiet growing affection for Catherine and even Henry, gnawing trepidation at the prospect of the unknown amount of time looming ahead – perhaps a lifetime! – and seething fury at the man she held responsible for her current predicament, Jared Wolfe. She spared a thought occasionally for the man she supposed was ultimately responsible, the crime boss Corvantes who had kidnapped her away from her life, but he wasn't the one who had sent her back in time with this impossible task, now, was he? No, that was the man with Alpha Rose, her twin.

The only time she felt calm was when she held the young Prince, as she continued to do whenever she could. He had been christened Henry after his father, of course, a day after his surreptitious vaccination. Playing peekaboo when he was awake, simply gazing at him while he slept, infused her with the peace that so eluded her any other time, her tumultuous mind able to rest for these few precious moments alone. Catherine continued to favor her young companion, smiling indulgently at her obvious affection for the heir to the throne.

King Henry was so enthralled at fatherhood, so in love with his son, and so enchanted with Catherine for having presented him with an heir that he momentarily forgot Belle. She wasn't summoned to their trysting spot again after the day of his birth, but with the entire palace in such a glorious uproar, reflecting her own turmoil, she didn't mind not having to deal with an amorous King on top of everything else. Although she sat directly at Catherine's side during the magnificent tournament he threw – and won – he didn't even glance at her for gazing triumphantly at his wife.

Then came the morning that the wetnurse screamed the palace down, when she discovered the infant Prince lying dead in his crib, already cold.

And Belle's world turned black.

^..^

With grief as heavy and pervasive as the previous celebrations had been glorious, the entire court went into deep mourning for Young Prince Hal, as he had been called. He was interred at Westminster in a day-long ceremony as magnificent as his parents' double coronation had been three years before. Deep silence, reflecting the cold winter rains that fell uninterrupted for days, rang throughout the palace halls.

Catherine spent hours and days in tearful prayer, ignoring all who tried to comfort her, while Henry stormed and raged about, terrorizing all with his mercurial temper. The servants and courtiers alike breathed a sigh of relief when he abruptly gathered his men-at-arms and rode out to a battle, conjured out of thin air to distract himself. When he returned some two months later, he was calm and gay again, but the gaiety seemed forced and brittle at times. He undertook to woo Catherine again, luring her away from her prie-dieu and her rosary with a return to feasts, sports, and dancing, and slowly the Queen and the court came to life again.

Including Belle. She'd gone through her own version of shock and mourning, albeit less for the baby Prince (whom her arms still unexpectedly missed), and more for herself and her predicament. She'd spent many long hours near Catherine, ostensibly at prayer like the Queen, but lost in thought. Many times she made up her mind to simply return to her time in Alpha and try to make a new life, but then she would remember that literally all the billions of souls in her own timeline were depending on her to recreate them. She didn't think she could live with herself knowing she'd given up, and effectively murdered them before they were born. So day by day, she reluctantly made up her mind to continue with the Tudor court. Surely it was doable, even if it took more time than she had originally thought. The book said Catherine would have many pregnancies – it would simply have to have been another baby that survived. She'd make sure of it, next time.

^..^

Late that spring, Catherine returned one day from a quiet stroll in the gardens at Henry's side and called Belle to her, dismissing the other women. "I have wonderful news for you, my dear," she said proudly, taking Belle's hands and pulling her down to sit on the settee beside her. She turned serious for a moment, peering into Belle's eyes with compassion. "I know how much you loved my son – as much as I did. It shows you are ready for a family of your own! But –" the Queen's eyes suddenly clouded over with another memory, and her voice turned delicate. "Have you remembered nothing of your own family, where you came from?"

Belle, speechless at the (to her) ominous turn this conversation was taking, mutely shook her head no, maintaining her vitally-necessary cover as a mysterious amnesiac.

Catherine smiled kindly. "Well, since no one has come forward to claim you, we must consider you one of our own. And take steps to see that you are taken care of. And so we have! The King has found you a husband!"