January 29th, 1560

Richmond Palace

Edward was happy to be back at Richmond Palace, while his father favored Greenwich, he enjoyed to observe the Thames with his beautiful queen, Isabella. Yet, he was laying in his own bed with his heavily pregnant mistress, Lady Marie, sleeping by his side. Isabella had brought up the pregnancy to him, but he lied, saying he had no idea who could have impregnated her. He remembered Lady Norfolk's vicious glare as he lied to his pregnant queen, she remained silent for the sake of her husband. She knew he could disgrace them all with the blink of an eye, so she was loyal to him. It didn't stop her from demanding that he discard Marie, but whatever had attracted him in the beginning had kept him in her embrace. Marie's tiny hand pulled his over her belly, the baby was kicking. It assured him of another healthy child, one he didn't have much use for. A son by Marie would have to be raised to the peerage, a daughter would have to be married off to peers of the realm. Isabella's children were used for securing alliances, and were to be better educated than Marie's children who would never leave England. The Thames chugged on sluggishly against the dreary gray sky. He thought of Isabella, her belly swollen once more. It would be her fifth pregnancy in just as many years of marriage. He hoped for another daughter, as usual. His favorite daughter, Jane Margaret, was being groomed for a Navarrese marriage. She was three years old, and was beginning her lessons in the French language. Princess Anne, his second daughter, would probably be married off to a German prince. Isabella preferred a Portuguese marriage. The Portuguese regent, Queen Dowager Catherine, was keen on the marriage as well. Her grand son was a Papist, as was she, but Anglo-Portuguese relations were an alternative for Spain.

"Ned?" Marie's soft voice called out.

Edward pulled her hair from around her face. "Yes, Marie?"

She stretched before she sat up. "If we are to have a son, I shall name him Edward. If a girl, Anne."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "I already have a daughter named Anne."

She glared at him. "You do not love me. You will not give me the joy of naming my daughter after my dear mother?"

Edward sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I love my wife, Marie. She has given me sons, and she is a beautiful woman."

Marie pulled herself out of his bed. "You claim you love your wife, yet you make me swear myself only to you and continue to allow me to lay in your bed. You cannot possibly love her, you should divorce her! Marry me, it is obvious that you are not as fond of your wife as you claim to be."

He reached for her, but pulled his hand away. "I cannot marry you, Marie. Isabella is a popular queen, and she has borne me sons. Something that you have not done. I am not faithful to her, that it is true. I do harbor affections for you, but I will not leave my wife and endanger my dynasty."

"How are you so sure that I will bear no sons?" Her voice grew shrill.

Edward made no attempt to answer her question. "The child will be named Eleanor."

February 13th, 1560

Richmond Palace

Edward was laying with Isabella when Marie went into labor with their child. He had to force himself not to jump to his feet and ensure that she would live. Ruth, much to her displeasure, had been asked by Isabella to deliver Marie's babe. Isabella was still ignorant to the fact that Edward had taken a mistress. Their children were with them, Jane eagerly practicing her French and Arthur responding to her in equally good Latin. Jane had little understanding of any language outside of French and English, which Isabella was sure would come to pass. Alexander, a year younger, was still learning to speak and little Anne was in her mother's arms, content with being doted on by her mother. He was happy to be with his actual family, although Marie's labor was weighing heavily in his mind. His daughter Jane hopped into his lap.

"Papa! Papa!" She cried.

Edward chuckled heartily. "Yes, my love?"

She placed her mother's small crown on her head. "Will I make a good queen like Mother?"

"Of course you will. You will be as great queen, just like your mother." He smiled at his daughter.

Isabella took her crown from Jane's head and giggled. "Absolutely. You are my daughter."

"What about me Mother?" Arthur squealed.

She smiled at Edward, her eyes were soft and loving. "You will be a strong king, like your father."

He noticed Isabella blush when he said that she was a great queen. It was true, she had secured the succession and was very popular with the English people. She was a different type of queen, one of her favorite past times was going out in the public and giving out coins to the poor and she did often, with little ceremony. She did not try to win the people over, she did these things from her heart. He loved that about her, she was very humble and seemed completely unaware of her station. She allowed her ladies to call her by her given name, although only Lady Norfolk took advantage of that privilege. Their children called her "Mother" instead of "Your Majesty" which was also unusual. He followed suit and allowed his children call him "father" or "papa" in private. It was improper for it to be done in public.

Anne babbled a bit and Isabella rocked her slightly. "My little Anna, the queen of Portugal."

"I say the Electress of Saxony. I do not wish my daughter married to a Papist." Edward muttered.

"That is why I am in charge of their marriages. Matters of state are just as important as religion. I will ensure that we marry into as many Protestant states as possible, but the Catholic nations are more powerful. This is something we must acknowledge and accept. We cannot leave England without alliance." Isabella pointed out as she wiped Alexander's face.

Edward frowned. "Where would we be without religion, Isabella? Religion is the center of our lives."

"I agree with you, my love. I would just prefer to have alliances to defend the lives of those who depend upon us for protection. That is why I favor Portugal, they are close to Spain and can strike before our navy would ever land in Spain." Her eyes were innocent, yet she annoyed him. She knew too much.

He kissed Isabella, Jane and Anne before he left the room. He walked down the corridor, where Marie was delivering their child. Ruth was exiting the room, but stopped in her tracks. She glared at him fiercely, he knew she would never forgive him. However, he knew she cared too much about her husband's position at court to tell Isabella.

"Eleanor." She growled at him and stalked off.

Lady Sancha and another woman he did not recognize, most likely the woman from Portugal, appeared and followed Ruth down the hall. They curtsied as they passed him, but he did not know if they knew he had fathered Marie's babe. He opened the door, and Marie looked up, smiling when she saw him.

"My love, she is beautiful." Her voice was faint from exhaustion.

He approached and saw a tiny babe with red-gold hair like his own. He had no desire to hold the child the way he had when Jane had been born, nor the pride he had felt when Anne had been born. This Eleanor was his child, but he was not sure if he was happy about it. The child was a by-product of his lust, but Marie was right: she was a pretty babe. He could see all of Marie's delicate features in the child's face, yet she had his color.

"Are you not going to hold her? Is she not royal enough?" Her voice was hurt.

Edward picked the child up, mostly to placate Marie. He was still not nearly happy as he was when Isabella gave him a child, yet he felt affection for the small babe. He wondered if she would die young because of her size, though he said nothing aloud. If he had, he knew Marie would demand to know if he was comparing their daughter to Isabella's children.

"I told you you would give me a daughter." He murmured.

She nodded slowly. "The next child will be a boy."

Edward shook his head. "I would prefer that you give me daughters. That will be less problematic."

Marie said nothing, obviously too tired to argue. He rocked the small babe a bit, unnerved by her silence and decided to give the child back to her mother. He left, no longer curious about his illegitimate child. Ruth was waiting outside of the door.

"Are you proud of yourself?" She inquired.

Edward stopped in his tracks and stared at Ruth, no entirely sure of how to respond.

"Is Thomas proud of his illegitimate daughter?" He retorted finally.

Ruth chuckled. "If you mean to offend me, you fail to do so."

Edward was stung, Lady Norfolk's words cut at his pride and she knew it. He could not combat her wit and her need to pry. She stood, leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face. She was completely disrespectful to his position as king, not that it meant much to Ruth; the Bible was her only superior, in her mind at least.

"I suppose you are not going to acknowledge your bastard publicly. You cannot be a man and let your mistakes be known, can you?" She circled him, watching him with her sharp green eyes.

"And if I do not?" He was becoming annoyed with Lady Norfolk.

She sighed. "God will forsake you. I do not want Isabella to lose any more children, and I do not want to lose her. You must acknowledge your bastards."

Edward shook his head. "I would never disrespect my wife that way."

Ruth shook her head. "I shall pray for you."