Life is funny sometimes. It can press and squeeze pretty hard. But in the midst of all that pressing, all that squeezing, it brings hope too. No matter how hard the suffering and the setbacks, a reminder that good things can come out of darkness glimmers. After each trial there rises a stronger, better, wiser version of a self in a season of growth. Realizing that it wasn't a burial, but rather a planting.
However, Charles does not see it that way. It's going on day two of his beloved wife lying unconscious. He has not eaten, slept, or taken care of himself the way he should. He's at a loss and unsure of what to do. Except for one thing. He made it abundantly clear "Doctor Pearce. I need Doctor Pearce from Wales."
The quack in the palace is on his last nerves. The man wanted to leech her blood, saying "She probably has bad blood in her system. Once it is drawn out, then the new blood will allow her to recuperate and awaken." He had to restrain himself from throwing the man, and his bag of tricks, out of the apartments and onto his ass.
Because there is "No way in Hell will I allow you to put leeches on my wife." The modern, skilled doctor from Wales was sent for posthaste. The minute he arrived, he was ushered into the Grand Duke and Duchess's quarters. Charles stepped away from the bedside and allowed the man to do his work.
Doctor Pearce gave Her Highness a thorough examination. He turned to his apprentice Edmund and whispered something. Then he addressed the room which held the Duke, the King, Lady Dot, Sir Anthony, and Sir William. "As you ascertained already, Her Ladyship is not dead. Thank goodness, because a terrible fall such as she suffered could very well have brought that on. Now let's discuss what is wrong with her."
He bid everyone to take a seat. Once the party was seated, Doctor Pearce spoke again. "Upon examination, I found Her Ladyship has a few broken ribs. We need to set them back to the right immediately. I am most shocked that the palace physician did not do this already."
Charles had to stifle a snort. It's not so shocking when you know what a fool that man is. With a hoarse voice, he asked "Once the ribs are set, will she wake up again?"
The sympathetic doctor gave him a thoughtful look. "That is hard to tell My Lord. Your wife also has a chipped left knee. Edmund and I will fix that as well. There's major swelling there. Her left wrist is also swollen. It most likely is sprained, since I did not feel any bone damage. On top of these things, what most concerns me is her spine and neck." He noticed the faces of those gathered in the room grew pale at those words.
Pressing on, he told them all "Now I wouldn't worry so much because if there were something serious with the neck or spine, Her Ladyship would not be with us today. But because of the fall she took, I am concerned that there could be some nerve damage. Not to mention there's her back as well. When I looked her over I did not feel anything out of alignment in either her neck or spine. That's not to say the muscles or nerves aren't pinched. The only way to tell that is for her to wake up."
Not being able to hold it in any longer, Charles felt more tears leave his eyes. The King saw his longtime friend, nay brother, cry more in the past few days than ever in his life. So he voiced what everyone in the room is thinking. "You have told us all a lot of valuable information, Sir. But none of that matters more than my daughter waking up. When will she wake up?"
Shaking his head in understanding, Doctor Pearce looked to him. "Sire there is no way to know when a person will wake up from a traumatic injury. Make no mistake this was a traumatic experience. The brain is multifaceted, you see. It's precious and magnificent. When the body goes through trauma, the brain takes over and acts as the chief protector of it. This is primarily because the body's ability to cope is overwhelmed. The brain perceives you are in danger and works hard to get you out."
"What does this have to do with my wife," Charles inquired. He ran a hand down his face.
Doctor Pearce came over and pulled a chair in front of him. Sitting down, he looked at the Duke in the eyes. "It has everything to do with your wife. You must understand her brain still perceives her as being in danger. The adrenaline produced in her body was so high, that her brain is frozen at the moment. She can neither run nor fight. Her nervous system is too overpowered to offer any solutions at the moment. So she is asleep, essentially. Once everything is calmed again, I feel safe in saying she will wake up. The question should not be when she wakes up, because she will. It should be what happens after she wakes up."
It was then Edmund returned with guards carrying pots of hot water, rags, wine, and other such items. The doctor moved to start fixing the Duchess's ribs and knee. It left the occupants in the room with time to think. Charles leaned his head back on the armchair. He put his hands over his eyes. His heart feels hollow as if it was a piece of parchment that someone wrote on. Then in frustration, they hated what they wrote and crumpled it up. That's how he feels at the moment.
The one person he wanted to yell at for not doing their duty is Carter. But he cannot do that either because the man was found dead, stabbed in the back in a side room just off the staircase. The only person besides him who knows what happened is lying unconscious in the bedroom. One thing is clear, someone wanted Mary out of the way. Someone had been plotting this and when he finds them he will do worse than a push down a staircase.
A million things are going through his head. She's alive but what if she has this nerve damage as the doctor spoke of? What if it renders her unable to walk? What if she's paralyzed? What if she never wakes up? He needs her to just wake up and love all of his what-ifs away. For now, he has to make peace with hope. When the worst thing possible happens hope is all that's left to hold on to.
So lost in his thoughts, the words of her father did not register. He came in on the tail end of a conversation. "If only we knew how this happened," the King voiced.
Charles knows. "May I address you as Mary's father, not the King? May I address you as my friend, and not the King?"
Staring at his friend, Henry agreed. "Of course Charles. Don't be silly. You know when it's just us among friends you may."
Sitting in the chair a dark expression came over the Duke's face. "Good. Then just remember I'm addressing you as father and friend, not as King. You want to know how this happened to my wife, your daughter. I will tell you. It's this place."
Confused, Henry echoed his words. "This place?"
But Charles was not confused. He knows exactly what he wants to say. "Yes. This place. This palace and the people inside it. All this place and the court do is turn good people into rubble. I know cause it did me, for a long time. Until her." He pointed to the bedroom. His eyes pooled with unshed tears.
"You have no idea what your daughter is like. You have no idea who she is. But I do. I think inside every one of us there's a piece of our souls longing for something sweet. Something better than who we are. It's that sweetness that beckons us out of darkness and calls us to embrace all the good things we want and are capable of. And that's your daughter. She's my sweetness because she IS sweet and kind and good and lovely." He shook his head and the bottled-up tears spilled down his face.
That is when Henry knew for a fact his best friend loved his oldest daughter. Not in word, not in deed, but in truth. He wants to say something and opened his mouth to speak, but Charles beat him to it.
"Do you know how lonely and depressed she was when I got her from Ludlow? Do you know severely that time damaged her? She was a child sent away from her parents, not allowed to see either her mother or her father. For all, it's worth she could have buried herself in grief and hurt and sadness, but she didn't. Mary is sweet and her sweetness found a way to grow despite all of the other things. And I have felt her sweetness all the way down to my soul and seen it firsthand." He stood up and moved to stare out the window.
Still, he talked while looking out in the distance. "Even when her title was taken away from her and declared a bastard, her sweetness didn't sour. She has a big, big heart that loves so very much. And every time a bit of happiness comes her way, this place—- this hard, abusive place tries to break her. Now it has, cause she's lying in there unconscious and broken." He whirled around and pierced his friend with a hard look.
His finger pointed at him. "She doesn't want to be the damn heir to the throne anymore! She just wants to live her life as a wife, a mother, and a Duchess. This place is poison and she doesn't want it, so why can't it leave her alone? Just leave her alone! The irony is no matter what is done to her or how low she is brought down, she would love you if you just gave her a damn chance."
Needing to clear his head, he left the room in a rush and ran out of the palace. He went to the stables and saddled his horse for a ride, leaving those in the room silent and still. Henry moved to the chair Charles had occupied. He removed his crown and set it on the side table. Instead of the King, he was just a father for once.
Glancing around the quiet room, he asked "Is what he said true?"
Anthony spoke up. "It is Majesty."
Shaking his head in displeasure, Henry told them all. "I have removed my crown. I am not His Majesty. I am just Henry— friend and father. Please address me as such. We've been friends for ages."
Nodding, William Compton threw his two cents in. "Henry I've seen the Duke and Duchess. We all have. They are content and happy and in love. Your daughter is fine with her station in life. She has not grumbled against it but accepted it. What Charles says is correct."
Henry wondered at this. It's a peculiar thing, these feelings he's feeling. He's never been chastised the way his oldest friend did. He's never thought about his daughter in the way he does now either. His actions impacted her and she's lying in there paying for it. He's also never seen Charles in love, especially with Mary. This made him think about his sister, whom his friend also married.
She too was a Princess and a Queen. She married Charles and married beneath her station. She too became a Duchess. However, the contrast between his sister and daughter ends there. His sister was stubborn and spoiled. She loved court and all of the things it provided. There was a bitterness to her when he last saw her alive. She seemed unhappy in her marriage and Charles did too. He had kept to his womanizing ways.
But Mary is different. She went from Princess to Duchess and seems to thrive. Her sweetness, as Charles put it, has not spoiled. With Charles, she is happy and loved. She is all the things his sister never was and it shows on her countenance. It also shows on his friend too, for he only has eyes for one woman and that's his wife. And he supposes his daughter dislikes court, which makes sense even though she's a great politician— at least according to the eyes on the ground in Wales and Suffolk.
He has a lot of thinking to do when it comes to his oldest child. "Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?" His eyes caught the ones of Mary's trusted lady.
Dot felt a weight on her shoulders. There is something he needs to know. He needs to know about the letter, which very well could have been a reason for Mary's fall. Does she tell him or not? He's the King and all of the deaths of the religious men carried import on her decision. She doesn't want to end up like them, but then... "I do have something you need to know. And I speak to you as both her father and as the King."
And so Dot involved herself in a political and family matter. She spoke clearly and without waiver, even though her stomach felt sick. When she had finished, His Majesty asked "Where is the letter now?" Dot rose up from her chair and went to the Bible. She opened it to the book of Isaiah and took a folded paper out. Then gave it to the King.
He read it in disbelief. Not because of what is written but because of the nefarious, heinous actions. All of this for a throne. His friend could have been killed. His daughter could have been killed. His grandsons could be killed. All these lies make him furious. He pocketed the letter and stated "Thank you. I will be looking into this." Which really meant he will be taking care of it.
At that moment Doctor Pearce reappeared in the sitting room. "I have set the ribs as well as the knee. I also re-examined her head, neck, and spine. Though she is unconscious when I move my instrument just so on her legs, her feet move. That is a great sign, as it means there is no paralysis. Now we wait until she awakes."
Henry felt relieved upon hearing the doctor's words of no paralysis. He thanked the man and had the guards show him to a room, as well as his apprentice. Perhaps he could persuade the apprentice to stay on as the palace physician. Standing he told his friends "I will stay with my daughter until Charles returns." With those words, he went into the bedroom and sat in the chair pulled close to the bed.
At first glance, it only looks as if Mary is sleeping, but on further inspection, there are bandages on her body. Not just small bandages for that of a cut, like the one on her elbow, but big bandages for broken parts. Memories flooded his mind of when she was a little girl in this very palace. One time she was playing in the maze outside and came inside crying. She dashed to his arms and he knelt down asking what was wrong.
"I fell down, Daddy," she said. That was all it took for him to scoop her up and place a kiss on her forehead. He carried her indoors to see the physician for a small bandage and honey ointment. Now no amount of kisses to the forehead, small bandages, or honey ointment can cure this. Even so, he placed a kiss on his child's forehead all the same.
This makes him wonder why did he send her away in the first place. Why did he allow her to think he didn't love her? Yes, he wants a male heir. Needs a male heir to secure the throne for ages to come. But he has two grandsons from the very daughter who's laying here unconscious and broken. The same child he called his pearl.
She used to be his world. His priceless treasure. His princess. He's treated her like a trinket and not like a pearl. But to Charles, she's his whole world. His priceless treasure. His pearl. It was during his rumination that his son-in-law returned.
"Any change?" he asked. There's hope in his voice and longing that Henry's never heard before. He looks at his best friend and his daughter and wants what they have— true love.
Not wanting to break his friend's spirits, he told him what Doctor Pearce had said about not being paralyzed. He stood up and clapped his friend on the back and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Charles nodded, ran a hand down his face, and sat in the vacated seat. Taking hold of his wife's hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.
He began talking to her as if she can hear him. "I love you with an immovable love. You have my whole heart, my whole self. I'm all in with you. I know I'm not easy to love. I'm grumpy, selfish, and vulgar as you say. But I promise you that I love you with such passion and intensity that hopefully, you'll forget what bleakness your life was before I came along. You are cared for and you will always have me in your corner, fighting for you. As I told you before, I am your knight. I searched high and low for you."
Henry felt like he was intruding on something, something he wasn't meant to hear or see. And yet his feet are rooted to the floor. He wants to know what his friend says next because he always knew when Charles fell in love it was for all time. He just never thought it would be his daughter.
"Right now you are apart from me. You're in someplace I can't be. That I can't reach. But know this our love is real and no distance is too far. No matter how long it takes you will come back to me. Love will lead you back. Sometime soon you'll wake up. Until then I'll hold on. And we will go far away from here. This is just a challenge in our story of love." He laid his head down on the bed and closed his eyes.
While out riding, he prayed and yelled in the woods. With all of his frustration gotten out of his system, he vowed to love her more fiercely than before. To not take her love for granted, because no one is promised tomorrow. Right now he's living that. He just has to keep hope for the future because though her bones are broken, they can and will be mended. Though she is hurt, the hurt will heal. Though they walk in this dark valley, the sun will rise again. They just have to get through it.
Without warning, he felt a gentle hand card through his hair. Popping his head up, Charles saw the eyes of his wife flutter and open. Inhaling a huge breath he exhaled an even bigger sob.