The final day of the coronation festivities is here, at long last. One more day of trying to play nice and make good impressions. One more conclave among the lower lords working out inter-kingdom trade agreements for the Duchy. One more banquet and then the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk will be going home. Home to Westhrope Hall. Home to peace and calm and true cheer.
The day before saw Charles go on a hunt, with His Majesty and other noble Lords. While he enjoys a good hunt, he found himself to be rather tired of all the celebration and merrymaking. It grows tiresome having to feign joy and felicity. When in truth he is anything but jubilant or festive.
How could he be when the true queen is rotting away on the More? Not be outdone by his wife who has had to bear the shame of being labeled illegitimate. Then there's the fact that unborn children of His Majesty are a higher rank for the throne than she is. Unborn children!
And he's just getting started. Because to add to all of those things is the way the malicious queen publicly degraded his wife to the court. Only to be topped by the hard slap she gave. When he thinks of all the things his Mary has gone through, he's amazed she hasn't given up and lain down in a pit somewhere. So yes. It's quite difficult to be cheerful and jolly when all you want to do is run the vain woman through with a sword.
At the very least Ann Boleyn has made an enemy of him. The dangerous thing about her is her ability to twist the mind of the king. A true monster will take weaknesses and use them as weapons. She has done that. She has taken his friend's deep-seated issue of an heir and is holding him captive with it.
He fancies himself in love with her, but Charles knows the truth. The truth is the same as his pseudo marriage with Margaret. Lust is never love. Sure it can feel a lot like love, but it's nothing more than a strong appetite, a hunger. A raging fire that can burn whole kingdoms down.
Lust rushes in where love waits and is patient. When you love you settle down. There's peace and freedom in love, whereas lust binds and threatens. Always wanting but never truly satisfied. There's no peace. With lust, one's position is unclear, unsure, and unstable.
With love, it's the opposite. The position is known outright. Love takes all of the instability, insecurities, and cares for them, and tends to it and helps them get better. Love sets those insecurities on firm, solid ground. Love is stable. Lust is a deadly poison and anyone who drinks it withers away to nothingness.
He tried to tell Henry what he was getting into on the trip to France. But like most things, the king does what he wants and damns the consequences. This is why Charles has to do whatever it takes to protect his wife and keep both their heads.
People may think what they want of him. He has thick skin and the stubbornness to endure it. Let them think he's a foolish idiot led around by his own lust. This is may have been who was two years ago, but he has changed. It's foolishness to think a person can't, even one as self-absorbed as he used to be.
One of the biggest changes in his life has come in the form of Mary. She loves him and he loves her. That love propels him to be more useful, better than he was. To be honorable. To be industrious and all the things he set out to be when he was younger before life came along and left his armor dull, flat, and rusty.
He admits he has not cared for the political side of his title. However, that is changing too. Even though he did help bring about Cardinal Wolsey's downfall, through his fictitious alliance, with Norfolk and Boleyn. Still he never really cared. His wife has helped him to see more clearly.
Not just because of her, but because he also knows he needs to do so. He is the Lord of the Duchy, so he needs to act like it. Part of acting like it is to take care of it and govern it. The only problem has been with not knowing how. He wasn't bred for governing like some men are. He was raised to serve and protect. But then a gift was given to him, his wife.
She, being princess and heir to the throne of England, has all the knowledge and skills of governance. That is what she was raised for, what she was born to do. With her help working with him side-by-side they've made a good team. She deals with matters of governance and he deals with protection and fortification.
And it's because of her tutelage that he understands laws and governance greater. He understands a lot of things like how he disagrees with The King's orders (more than he used to), or how the new queen and her family are cancer on the kingdom.
He also understands moves and countermoves, thanks to the way he was raised and educated. The court is like chess. Every day moves are made. Some good, some not so good, and some totally ruthless. Also like chess, there are pawns, bishops, rooks, the king, and the queen.
To succeed one must study the endgames. Once you know the endgames then you can make your moves. The thing about endgames is if you are an experienced player you can see the moves in your head— anticipating them. Also one should always make moves in silence, giving nothing away but leaving nothing for chance. If you make a wrong move you can't ever undo it, but you can try to make a better one next time. And above all don't waste one of your moves. That could cost you the whole game.
He thinks it's interesting how Mary is making moves and she doesn't really know it. She's not interested in meanness or being ruthless, she's too sweet-natured for that kind of cutthroat work. That's where he comes in. Silently he's been making moves of his own. Only time will tell if they work out, which he's confident they will. But one thing remains. Protect the queen, his queen, and he will protect her at all costs. No one degrades and slaps his wife, and thinks they'll get away with it. No one. Especially not some lesser noble, courtesan tart.
On the ride out for the hunt, he thought about all these things. He continued thinking about them while getting ready for the day. Today he's meeting with Viscount Hereford and the Earl of Devonshire. They're discussing trade. Suffolk's winter wheat and barley crops, spring beans, and linseed are hot commodities. He will trade for Hereford's fruits, cider, and beef as well as Devon's tin and copper.
All in all his Duchy gets more money and needed products while he gains allies. It's a win-win situation. An opportunity he'd be a dummy to pass up. His wife made him dress in navy for the day. She says "It makes you look more authoritative. Plus it brings out the blue in your eyes and selfishly it makes you look more handsome." He thrived under the warmth of her praise.
When he inquired as to what she was doing with her time today, her answer was vague. "Oh, this and that," she stated.
He warned her. "Just don't get yourself in trouble. And if you leave the palace carry the small dagger. It's easy to conceal."
Nodding, she took up the dagger. He had given it to her before a few days ago. Never has she owned one, nor had the need to. But he thinks she should carry it as a precaution. His reason is "There are a lot of mean-spirited, evil people in the world. They have no care for their fellow humans. I need you to be prepared at all times."
She gave her consent and has had it ever since. Although she hasn't ever used it, nor has she carried it. It's been lying there on the desk. Still, if it makes him worry less, on her behalf, then she'll carry it more.
After a breakfast of fruit, cheese, and bread they parted from the other. Charles to his meetings and her to... well to whatever it is she's doing.
By mid-day, he was done finalizing agreements and headed back to his chambers. He was stopped by Howard. "Brandon," he greeted. He took umbrage at this. So very disrespectful being addressed in that manner, but do unto others... "Howard." No love is lost between them.
Rolling his eyes, the Duke of Norfolk told him "The king wants us in his sitting room."
With a nod, he turned on his heels and began walking in the direction of the king's chambers. While the two of them ambled on, Howard tried to engage him in conversation. Although really his aim to gather information. "You have been busy at court these days. Why so many meetings with lower lords?"
What he would like to say is "that is none of your damn business" however, he ended up saying "Securing the Duchy of Suffolk's future."
The Duke of Norfolk took it to mean, "Oh. So you got your bastard wife pregnant. Already betrothing the thing, are you? Good. The babe will need all the help it can get."
If Thomas Howard wasn't already on his hit list, he would be now. Swallowing down his frustration, Charles wore a tight expression. It mingled with a hint of sourness. "It's a good thing then that my wife has the help of her cousin." He thought to remind the man of that fact.
With a look of scorn, Howard stated "It is indeed." In truth, he loathes all things Spanish, especially the Holy Roman Emperor. Silence was had the rest of the way.
In the King's sitting room, Henry raged about Sir Thomas More's absence at the coronation. Mid-rage, he sat down in his chair and raved "I suspect More is privately rallying the Catholic nobles and bishops against me. Who does he think he is? I am the king! I make the rules. He follows them. How hard is that to do? The man is supposed to be retired and yet he commits treason."
As His Majesty's madness kept coming out of his mouth, Charles became worried. He's speaking of treason and the penalty for treason is beheading at best, drawn and quartered at worst. Thomas More a decent man, a man of God, does not deserve either of those fates. Not to mention how Mary will react to this. He needs a drink.
Which is what he did when he finally returned to his apartments. He sat by the fire nursing his cup. The King is unstable in his ways and rationality. Why has he not seen this before?
Maybe he has and just chose to ignore it because favor, riches, and lust meant more to him. Then something strong hit him. People of like minds gravitate to each other. Back then he, himself, was unstable too. Now that he's finally settled and sounder things are more clear.
And the more he sits here drinking and thinking another thing registered on him. His friend has taken to surrounding himself with two kinds of people: enablers and tongue biters. Sir Thomas is neither of those and now he's considered treasonous.
His wife entered at that moment and he studied her. He took in her form and figure, her grace and poise, he took her in. His thoughts settled on her and the way she has been treated. She is a study of how The King operates. And it hit him hard, very hard.
You have his sweet Mary, who wouldn't hurt even a fly. She was a young girl, innocent of the ways of the world. Full of love and liveliness. Because her mother wasn't an enabler nor a tongue biter, she was a pawn. She was used as bait, as a punishment.
His Sweetheart, who was supposed to be her father's Pearl, was given the boot. She was cast aside not once but three times. Once as punishment to her mother, again because she wasn't a boy and a third time in favor of unborn potential children. That is how His Majesty operates.
All of sudden his drink merged with his conscience. Jumping up he made a dash for the bucket and heaved his guts out. With realization comes truth and with truth comes "Cold rags. His Grace needs cold, healing rags," his wife instructed.
With a hand on his forehead, she asked "Love what happened? Have you eaten any old cheese or meat?"
Yes. He's tasted the bitter fruit of morality and his still small voice. A servant handed him a handkerchief and a cold rag. He wiped his mouth before he prostrated himself at her delicate, but cold feet. Those things are like icy weapons at night.
With a croaky voice, dry voice he recited his knight's code to her. "I pledge to you my valor. My heart knows only that which is virtuous. My sword defends the defenseless. My strength upholds the weak. My wrath undoes the unjust. My word is true. My love is steadfast."
Taking hold of one of her feet, he slid her shoe off. He kissed her foot and washed it with his tears. Worried, she begged him to rise and led him to the bed where she kissed his tears away. Playing with his hair, she held him to her while also holding the cold rag on his forehead.
Once she felt him calmer, she beseeched him "Tell me what happened to make you behave in such an upset manner. Please. I'll worry myself sick for you."
Kissing the inside of her wrist, he spoke. "I opened my eyes. That's all. I promise. And once you've seen something, there's no unseeing it." He moved to lay his head on the pillow.
"You are so right." She agrees a thousand times at that. Her face grew pinched with disgust. In fact, "At the tournament, you will never believe what I saw my father doing." Then she told him all about that depraved display.
A snort of laughter left his mouth. He could picture her scandalized, but he's also not surprised by The King's behavior. "It's what he does. With his wife pregnant, he's going elsewhere. It's not uncommon to do so."
She knows this, but "When I'm pregnant, will you do the same? Will you cheat on me with some wicked woman?"
Craning his head to her, he fixed his eyes with hers. "No. I will not. My love is too strong for me to do that. I want you. I desire you. And if I can't have you then I want no one else."
Leaning over, she moved the rag and kissed his forehead. They lay in bed the rest of the afternoon. She tended to her husband as any wife would, and he soaked up her affections and care.
He promised her that he felt well enough to attend the banquet. So they readied themselves to leave the room. Since his wife changed in her "lady" chamber, he did not see her until time to leave. But when his eyes beheld the vision of her splendor he thinks his mouth may have dropped. He could swear he inhaled a gnat. On any given day she is stunning, but tonight she is regal and ravishing. Part of him wants her to go change. The sheer part of her dress, between the valley of her breasts, will leave heads turning and lecherous tongues wagging.
The dress is not indecent, it's the opposite. But it's also not what you would expect the once heir of the throne to wear. As she's taken to saying "Since I'm illegitimate I can wear dresses I actually like and say what I want to say. I can be myself." And that's the reason he didn't say anything about it.
Admiring her, he declared "I love you, you gorgeous creature." He saw her expression change and knew she was worried about looking immodest. "You look fine. Although," his finger ran down the sheer part on the front. "This teases me. It makes me want to see more." He kissed her cheek.
"You will. Later," she stated. A huge smile framed her face.
With the promise of more lingering, he took her arm and led her out. Just as he thought, heads turned and eyes grew large as they mingled at the closing banquet. They talked, they laughed, they ate, they danced, and it was boring. On the dance floor, they whispered about how they could do these same things back home.
It was only towards the end of the banquet the real drama began. The King stood up and praised his new Queen. Then he addressed the court. "Members of the court. I have been doing a lot of thinking this week. There are two here who have surpassed expectations. Two who are deserving of a boon."
Charles noticed both the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Wiltshire looking nonplused. They both wore shit-eating grins just knowing he was talking about them.
The King began walking to the head of the dias. "These two are loyal, trusted servants who are worthy of the honor I am to give. Would these two court members step forward."
Both Howard and Boleyn made to move. His Majesty called out "The Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, would you please come forward." They stopped cold.
Again Charles swears his mouth fell open. As for his wife, she clutched his arm. He can also feel her shaking. This is unexpected. When they moved to The King, they bowed and curtsied respectively.
"Charles and Mary Brandon, you have made inroads in the kingdom and turned water into wine with your Duchy. Especially when everyone else has grown lazy. You are both seen as charitable, and a good representation of the kingdom. Therefore I am bestowing upon your duchy the title of Grand Duchy of Suffolk. Thereby titling you as Grand Duke and Grand Duchess. Henceforth referred to as His Royal Highness and Her Royal Highness."
Applause sounded and Mary wanted to faint. But Charles felt nothing. Nothing but contempt for this title because thanks to His Royal High Ass the snakes will be slithering out of their dens. Poised and ready to strike at all sides. All he can think of is how to protect his queen, his pearl of great price.