The refreshments in the garden were interesting. It started with the Prince and Princess deciding to carry the children along for introductions. So they were dressed and readied in less than an hour, which is a record, including Mary having fed Gillian. Charles, who is exceedingly pleased with his little girl, held the newest addition, while his wife and Lady Agnes wrangled the twins. That is no small feat considering they are into anything and everything lately. Sweet Elizabeth elected to stay with Dot, as she loves her Aunt Dot. With these arrangements, everything should be alright.
When the family entered the gardens, the King once again snubbed his youngest daughter and granddaughter. Instead favoring the twins, who had slithered out of the grasp of their caretakers. They ran over to His Majesty and hugged his legs, which made him boom with laughter. He picked them up and elected to not put them down, much to the consternation of their mother. Her father fawned over the boys, again showing them off like they were the crown jewels of England. Which she supposes they are since he doesn't have a son of his own... yet.
As he showed the twins off, the Queen stood stoically by his side. She wore a cheery enough expression, but if a person looks deeper they can see an air of frustration written there. Every time the King talks about his grandsons, and how he just knows "This new baby will be a boy. The Queen and I have faith that will be", her face grew pale. Mary had taken to watching Her Majesty's reactions and she knew the meek woman was nervous about the baby she carries.
But, as horrible as it sounds, Mary doesn't care. As she shared with Lady Flora and Paisley, "She got herself into this position. So, now she'll have to bear that burden herself. I do not wish the position of my father's Queen on any woman. This makes me harken back to something you said earlier, Countess. Just how meek, mild, and humble is Jane Seymour to have gotten herself into the title of Queen? No. No. She still played the game, she only played it differently than the previous Queen did."
Those are her thoughts on the matter. Thank the Lord she, herself, doesn't have to worry about that or have that kind of pressure on her shoulders. Instead, she's married to the King's best friend, her very own Prince. As she inspected him, holding Gillian, her eyes saw him staring hard at the Prince of France. It made her wonder what he was on about. As she turned her pretty head to look, she noticed the blonde prince's eyes were looking at her. Oh, bother...
Not caring to get involved in this masculine show of display, she wandered over to speak with Dot and Paisley. Her blonde friend spoke with hushed tones. "Apparently you have a new admirer."
With a sigh, Mary stated "Apparently I do. The hostility coming from my husband is palpable. I don't know why he lets it bother him so."
Holding a cup of tea, Paisley decided to weigh in. "Do you not? Because you also have the eyes of the Duke of Somerset as well."
Ever so discreetly, Mary inclined her head in the direction of the Duke. Sure enough, he arched his eyebrows and gave a small wave. Whipping her head around, she shook it. "Oh, dear. Charles will be fit to be tied. He knows he has nothing to worry about. I just don't understand his positioning. He gets so agitated with Edward Seymour and now the Prince of France."
Her dear friend declared "Mary he loves you is all. I'm sure he feels a little threatened by them. I mean, he may be handsome, but your husband wasn't born into his position like they were. He may think you deserve someone like them, whose position isn't subject to the whims of the King. He may still feel a bit self-conscious." Dot saw her own husband walk over to his friend, the Prince, and the man relaxed his shoulders a bit.
It's true he does. The Princess knows this. Her husband is still dealing with the fallout of the northern rebellion, and how it weighed heavy on his heart and mind. He's getting better, but Rome wasn't built in a day. So, yes. She understands how Charles feels, she's felt the same way herself. And it seems that whenever you're already feeling low, other things can aggravate it and make it fester.
At that moment a loud crash was heard. All eyes and heads turned to the sound. To Mary's horror, one of the twins (William) had run into one of the Royal Servers. The man had fallen onto the drinks table. The table is a wreck with the crystal goblets all broken and the drink spilled everywhere. Little William stared at the mess and said "Uh-oh".
Thinking her father was going to yell at him, Mary began rushing to her son. But to her great surprise, the King laughed and leaned down to kiss the child. As the strung-out mother reached the toddler, King Henry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be too hard on him. He didn't see where he was going and made a mistake. It's only glasses."
She swears her head did a double-take. Who is this man? Because she knows it can't be her father. If she had done this as a child, she would have been sent to her room post-haste after a good tongue lashing. Her face would not be seen until days later, with meals taken inside her room as well. But now he tells her not to be hard on him, after having picked him up again carrying his grandson away.
Her husband came to stand beside her. She turned to him, with the same surprised look on her face, and declared "Who is that man? Surely he isn't my father, because he told me to be lenient with William."
Having passed Gillian to Lady Agnes, due to the baby becoming tired, Charles held her hand. "I don't know, My Darling. But let's not do anything to upset this new mood. Now smile because people are staring at us." His nimble fingers grabbed an unbroken glass from the table and saluted those who were gawking at them, before downing the contents.
As the garden party ended, the Prince and Princess of Wales went to claim their playful boys. The Venetian Dutchess, Benedetta Gritti, stopped them. Full of grace, the older woman curtsied before she spoke. "Your Royal Highnesses I wanted to tell you that your children are lovely and spirited. They remind me of my own when they were younger. My husband, Andrea, wanted me to send his appreciation. He regrets that he had to stay home and attend to important Venetian matters of state. However, he hopes to strike a trade agreement between Venice and Wales."
This shocked Charles, who ran a hand through his hair. He was not expecting that, and neither was Mary. "My wife and I thank you for your kind comments. We look forward to meeting with you further to discuss trade." The three spoke some more about their children and set a time aside, on Wednesday, to hammer out the details of the trade.
On the way back to their apartments, Her Highness mentioned "Trade with Venice? That's incredible."
Her husband is still stunned. "I really cannot fathom that. It's a true win for our Province. I only have to wonder what the catch is. No one wants to do anything without something in return. So what's the return?" He's feeling cautiously optimistic about this.
Understanding his sentiments, Mary told him "I get the feeling it will have something to do with our children."
As they came to the door of their chambers, Charles said "So do I."
In a rare turn of events, Her Majesty came to get Elizabeth and took the girl to her Royal Rooms. This made Mary wonder if the woman plans on having her sister stay at the palace, in a more permanent manner. The rest of the afternoon was spent resting and playing with the children. When the twins were on the bed with their parents, Charles asked his son "William why did you run into the serving-man earlier? You made a huge mess you know." He asked this as if the child could understand thoroughly his actions.
The twins have been gaining in the area of language development. With their two-year birthday coming up soon, they're now able to string together two-word sentences. So when William responded to his father, he let him know "I sorry." Then Charles tried to get him to turn it around to "I sorry Daddy." To which the boy repeated exactly. His father kissed his forehead and hugged him.
As for Owen, he was playing catch with his mother. She would "throw" the soft toy ball to a part of the bed and he would go retrieve it. Sometimes she would toss it directly to him and he would try to catch it, but usually ends up dropping it. On the occasion he did catch it, she would beam brightly and clap. But he grew tired of the game and crawled over to her. He held her face in both his hands and said "I tired Mama." She kissed his hands and he snuggled into her side, where he yawned. With his cute little voice, he asked "Sing me peas."
William saw his brother settle down for a nap and did the same by his father's side. Running a hand through his son's chestnut hair, Charles encouraged his wife. "Yes, Mama, sing." He turned his head to see her give him a smile full of mischievousness.
"Only if you sing with me," she mentioned. She hates singing alone but started singing anyway. "Lavender's blue dilly, dilly, lavender's green—"
Charles came in on the "When I am king, dilly, dilly you shall be queen." And together they sang the rest of the song until the end. Looking down they saw the twins fast asleep. "You know we could have sung Toss the Pot. Toss the pot, toss the pot: let us be merry. And drink till our cheeks be as red as a cherry." He gave her a cheeky wink, knowing she would absolutely oppose the tune.
With a playful shove, she told him "We are not singing an unrefined tavern shanty to our children."
He laughed at her calling it unrefined and decided to have some fun. "My Darling, how could it be unrefined when some of the noblest men in the kingdom, including your father, sing it?"
Moving Owen to a more comfortable sleeping position, she huffed out a disconcerting breath. Again she mentioned, "Seriously, we are not going to discuss the merits of drinking songs. And you and your friends will not be teaching it to them." She made sure to emphasize the last part.
With a serious look on his face, he began "But Darling, don't you think they want to know how..." He stopped talking and then started singing. "When our money is all spent, then sell our goods and spend our rent, or drink it up with one consent, and ever toss the pot." A laugh burst out of his mouth at his wife's scandalized face.
She got up and asked, "If you're quite finished singing salty songs, would you mind helping me carry the boys to their room?" Gently she lifted Owen into her arms and patted his back, so that he wouldn't wake up.
Sending a playful look her way, he did the same with William. Together they carried them into the care of Lady Ashdown and Gwyn. Then began the process of deciding what she wanted him to wear that evening for the welcome feast and ball. Since it will be Charles's first ball as a Prince they have to get this right too. Thinking about it made her ill.
In a rush, she told him "Stay here. Don't go anywhere." Then she rushed out of the bedroom down the hall and knocked on Dot's door. Her maid, Hannah, opened it. Mary inquired about her health and asked for Dot. When her friend appeared, she explained the problem. The two of them grabbed Paisley and set off to figure out what Charles would wear.
Back in the bedroom, he had reclined on the bed and picked up her rubbish poetry book to read. He knew to make himself comfortable, as this would most likely take a while. The problem is "I can't decide if we go full dress or keep it simple. I don't want him to look like an idiot if he's in full dress and my father isn't." Both of her friends "Hmmm'd" in agreement.
There is only one solution. Turning to her husband, Mary asked "Dear Sweet, Wonderful Husband, would you please go inquire of my father what he's wearing tonight? Just simply ask him are you wearing full dress or not. Got it? Full dress or not."
Having quirked his eyebrow at this foolishness, he knew there would be no peace until he did as requested. So off he went to ask the King a question reserved for the female population. Upon knocking, and being received into his room, he felt stupid asking "What are you wearing tonight? Full dress or not?" A deadpanned expression sat on his face and he knew the minute the question left his mouth it was ridiculous.
His friend laughed. "Your wife put you up to this didn't she?" Charles nodded. "I'm wearing the full dress. And once you've told her that, do come back and play cards. It won't take us long to get attired, unlike the women. If you stay she'll nettle you about all manner of things from shirt sleeves to belt buckles. Mark my word." Then Henry moved to the side table and poured himself a drink.
So off the Prince of Wales went to tell his wife the information. He told her "Mary, the King is wearing the full dress. He requested I go to play cards with him and I would be loathed to refuse. I'll be back in time to get ready." Off he went to play cards while his wife was left gaping.
But it did give her time to get herself together. After choosing her husband's outfit, she then had her two friends help her choose her own. "Do I dare be scandalous and go with no sleeves?" All three of them nodded yes. "I'll be the talk of the country. I might even upstage the Queen."
Dot who was picking at her nails, questioned "But will your husband like it?" She gave her friend a serious look.
With her hands on the sides of her head, she said "Yes." Before she lost her nerve, she had her companions help her choose between red and coral. Due to the fact it's summer, as Paisley pointed out, the coral dress won out. And so the preparations began for Her Highness.
A bath of rose oil and rose petals was drawn. She soaked in it and enjoyed the time to herself. Usually one of the children interrupts her bath, so she never gets to have a nice long, warm one. It's interesting how they never bother her husband during his bath. She pondered this as she lie there with cucumbers on her eyes.
After which she spritzed herself with vanilla and sparkling lychee to create a soft scent all her own. Then she pulled on the underpinnings and robe. Joan came to start on her hair. This was a chore as she was super confused as to what to do with it. But between the two of them, Joan created a wavy look with part of the sides swept together. It created a beautiful half-up, half-down style, that joined in the back. Still, there was enough left to frame her face.
On top of her head sits a delicate tiara. One with loops of small diamonds and with a large diamond hanging down, almost like flower petals. Which is not too far off, as it is a garland of sweet forget-me-nots, crafted of fine diamonds and precious pearls. She wore a necklace of the same, diamonds and pearls.
The thing about this tiara is it's an early wedding anniversary present from Charles. He had it made special for her by the Cardiff jeweler. When he presented it to her, he seemed a bit nervous. His hand raked through his hair numerous times. She remembers opening the box lid and peering inside. Her mouth gasped as she took it in.
Gently taking it from its pillowed cradle, she held it up to inspect. That is when the tears came. She cried out in a shaky voice, "Forget-me-nots! Charles!" For everyone knows that is the flower of true love and respect, coupled with fidelity and faithfulness. Placing it back on its pillow, she went to kiss her husband silly. She made him know "You didn't have to".
His eyes held hers. "I know, but I wanted to. You're My Princess, My Darling, my true love. We'll be married three years soon and I wanted to do something special. So I had it made for you with that delicate, yet simple, flower. It reminds me of you, as well as the meaning behind it. I had the jeweler put diamonds and pearls because you're also My Pearl. I hope you like it." Even then he still seemed nervous.
Her fingers carded through the sides of his hair. "I love it. It's now my favorite tiara and piece of jewelry." What she didn't tell him is it's the only one that was ever made just for her. She has many hand-me-down tiaras from her mother and various aunts, but that is the only one created for her own self. And it means the world to her. Looking at it in the mirror, now, still brings a few tears to her eyes.
Joan helped her into the dress and shoes. With a hand over her mouth, she declared "Oh Your Highness. You look just like a princess!" Then she giggled. "You are a princess, but you look SO pretty, so royal!"
This is the first time in a very long time that she's dressed up in full "princess mode". So taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, to calm her nerves, she turned around to the mirror. Before she could open them, the door opened and the Prince walked in. Her eyes opened and caught his. "How do I look?" she asked.
Quiet as a mouse, Joan left the room. She knew love was stirring between the two of them. They deserve this moment before the noise and busyness of the evening descend upon them.
Not even noticing the maid had left, Charles went to his wife and held her hands. His lips kissed her forehead and he rested his own on hers. "Stunning" was all he said and all he needed to. His eyes held the truth as well. They were captured by her and a little bit misty. The two stayed like that, foreheads touching, for a long beat.
Then it was his turn to get dressed. When he saw the shirt laid out for him he scoffed. "The sleeves look like lady's sleeves with all that lace." His nose is turned up at it.
Undeterred, Mary told him "Go bathe. Then you'll put this on and look like Royal Prince fit for the welcome ball." She shooed him into the privy, where he did as instructed. But he took his sweet time about it, knowing it's common for high-ranking royals to arrive fashionably late.
However, that line of thinking did not amuse his wife. She had her hands on her slender hips, tapping her foot. "If you took any longer we would be disgustingly late. As it is, I'm sure my father will be seething with annoyance."
Shucking off his towel, he began putting on his undergarments. Then Mary called for Bruce, who helped His Highness dress. When he begrudgingly finished dressing in the ugly frilly shirt, Mary looked him over. Crisp black pants, soft creamy silver-colored damask pattern doublet with soft blue swirls of his coat of arms all over, matching plain silver satin buttons, a contrasting waistcoat in light blue, ugly frilly shirt, black leather belt with gold buckles, and black leather boots. The only things missing are...
Taking the blue silk sash, Mary draped it over his shoulder and affixed it for him. Then she pinned his Order of the Garter and Order of the Rose badges on it at the bottom, as well as his princely star pinned on the sash at the shoulder. After that came the navy blue silk cape, with a cream-colored interior, that she draped over the opposite shoulder. This is one of her proudest moments being able to do this for her husband.
When she was all finished, she had him stand back and look in the mirror. He was very quiet upon viewing his image. Wondering, she asked "What do you think? Should we change the overcoat?"
This is so strange to him. Physically he's the same man of a year ago, or even two years ago. However, the man looking back at him is vastly different. And honestly, it truly hit him, seeing himself dressed like this, he's really a prince. "I'm not better than anybody else, but somehow I'm wise enough to realize I'm different. I stand here a Prince, yet I came from nothing. I don't think I'll ever forget that and if I do, then please slap some sense into me. For then I will be too big for my Royal Britches."
With a sweet smile, she kissed his cheek. "I think you're one of the humblest, most handsome Princes of my acquaintance— ever. I also think it's time for us to go." He nodded then led her out to the main room, where he paused and handed her a bouquet of pink peonies. She kissed his cheek again, brought them to her nose, sniffed, and passed them to Abby their room attendant.
Holding hands they walked to the doors of the ballroom. The Herald announced them. "Announcing His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales and Suffolk, Charles Brandon. Accompanied by Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales and Suffolk, Mary Brandon née Tudor."
They make a striking couple with their handsome features, but also in their manner of dress. His creamy colors contrast with her coral ones. And oh did the heads turn and the ladies have the vapors at Mary's gown. Sleeveless, indeed! Everywhere from corner to corner the womenfolk were talking. "Do you see that gown, Maggie? It's sleeveless! How can she sleep at night?", "That gown is Divine. I must know the name of her dressmaker.", "Bertha, with a husband like that I'd wear sleeveless too.", "It's shameful those sleeves and that neckline. Although her tiara is quite striking." And so on and so on it went.
Until dinner where Mr. Harris's strict routine made the Princess and her two ladies the shining stars of the ball. When it got to the main course of lobster they were prepared. Ironically most everyone used their fingers for everything, even the Royals. However, like the courtly lady she is, Mary used her fork. She cracked the lobster the way her teacher taught her, then used the fork to dig out the meat. Paisley and Dot followed her lead.
Eyes had turned upon them, watching them do this feat. Even the King watched. Unknowing she had an audience, Mary glanced up and saw the eyes. Well, that's not entirely true. She felt them before that. "Why's everyone observing me?" she whispered to Charles.
In a low voice, he spoke. "Because you're eating respectably unlike the rest of us barbarians. I need you to teach me that later."
Under the table, she squeezed his thigh. Catching her father's eye, he nodded his approval at her. When the finger bowls were brought out in between courses, Paisley did NOT drink from it. In fact, the peahens of the court had new things to say. "Alice, do you see how mannered the Princess and her ladies are? I need to know who trains her.", "Brittany, I have to have my daughter as one of her ladies in wait.", "Do you see how she sits? Her posture is perfect." And so on and so on it went.
After dinner came the entertainment. His Majesty stood up. "Lords and Ladies. French and Genoan Royalty. I welcome you to Greenwich Palace. The Queen and I hope you all have a festive time tonight. Before the dancing, we have arranged some entertainment." He looked to William Compton, who looked blank.
However, the Prince of Wales stood up and spoke. "Your Majesty's and honored guests. If you would direct your attention to the doors you will see a spectacular showing. I give to you the Majestic Menagerie of the Orient."
With those words, the doors opened. Gasps coupled with screams sounded out, as a tiger was led in by its trainer. Elephants, pandas, monkeys, birds of paradise, camels, rhythmic aerial silk dancers performed, and for the dramatic conclusion a cobra charmer. The Menagerie will be at the palace all week for shows. Thunderous applause rang out all over the room, especially from His Majesty. It is obvious his Royal guests are more than impressed.
When it was over, before the dancing, Mary asked "Where did you find them?"
Wearing a sneaky grin, her husband answered. "I may have written your cousin, the Emperor of Spain."
Stunned, she told him "My father owes you big. So does William."
The dancing started with the King and Queen, who could barely move. Then it followed onto Charles and Mary, the Royal guests, and finally the rest of the court. The Prince of Wales, who hates to dance, led his wife in three numbers. He saw the King motion for him to follow him into his private chambers. "Your father calls. I shouldn't be gone too long," he mentioned. They squeezed hands and he left her.
Before she could sit down, Prince Charles of France asked her to dance. How could she refuse? They made polite conversation around the dance floor. In a cunning move, he spun her towards the doors leading out to the back gardens. With couples impeding the flow of traffic, they had no choice but to go outside.
Looking right at him, Mary wanted to know "Why did you do that?" The atmosphere is so tense it's like it was a living presence outdoors with them.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed prince bowed. "My apologies Princess but I have wanted to get you alone for some time. You see I am quite curious about the girl who was engaged to my deceased brother. The girl who would have been Queen of France. I am happy to report back to my father and older brother Henry, the Dauphin, that you are in fact very beautiful. And also very prim and proper." He gave a laugh.
She doesn't know whether to be proud or offended. The way he said it makes it feel like more of an offense. So she kept quiet. One learns a great deal more that way.
The Prince continued talking. "But I have to wonder, are you really so proper. You did marry a nobody who's now a somebody. You can take a poor man and put rich clothes on him, but you can't take the poor man out of him. Tell me, Princess, are you truly happy with your husband? Haven't you wondered, just once, what it would be like to be married to a true Royal? If you need help in that department I'm here for two weeks." His eyes pierced into her like swords.
Of all the nerve! As if she needed another reason to be put off by him, she would do so out of spite. She stood up ramrod straight and head held high. "I am no longer a little girl playing at princess. I am the Princess of Wales and Suffolk and my husband is THE Prince. It wasn't given to him, as most princely titles are. It was earned. Therefore it makes it all the sweeter. He has proven himself capable. Tell me, what have you or your brother done with your titles?"
The tragedy is this handsome Prince has everything a person could want at his service. Yet his arrogance blinds him and most likely his brother too. "I am more than happy with my husband. He is the best part of me. I don't need titles or fancy things. Those don't impress me much. What does is the earnest character from within. My husband may not have come from money, but he more than makes up for it with his heart."
It was then a throat cleared. The two turned around to see the Prince of Wales nearby. Prince Charles of France bowed. His face was solemn. "I think I'll take my leave. It was most enlightening talking with you Princess. Your Highnesses." He walked off into the ballroom.
Turning to her husband, Mary inquired "How much of that did you hear?" She feels sheepish about the whole thing. Sort of.
Taking her hand and leading her to a quiet, darkened corner of the outside patio, he kissed her forehead. "Enough to understand he was putting me down. Thank you for your faith in me, even when I may not have enough for myself. Thank you for your love and your defense of my person. But I've told you before, you deserve—"
Her finger to his lips silenced him. "Don't even say it. I deserve you. You are My Handsome Prince. I love you now and I'll love you until the day I die. Don't you get Charles? I am permanently in love with you."
He took her hands and gazed into her eyes. "Then My Pretty Princess, I am forever yours. You're all mine and I'm not sharing." He punctuated that with a kiss on both her hands. "Isn't this where the hero gets a kiss? Since you defended my honor, I guess it's you who should get the reward. My heroine."
That roguish look is in his eyes. "Charles, definitely kiss me. But do not mess up my hair. Do you realize—" He quieted her with his kiss and she embraced him in her arms. That's all they ever needed.