Author's Note: Hi readers. I apologize for not updating sooner. I had split my story into two parts. This chapter ended the first part of the story on another website. I took time to contemplate part two's direction. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading.
Some moments mark the soul. Moments of true clarity and realization. Moments that divide and define one's life forever, placing it in two separate categories: before and after. When the King said, "I've never met her, but you have. I have no doubt she'll help you with Queen training. I believe she goes by the name of Countess Falkirk, or you may know her as Lady Flora," that was one of those kinds of moments.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed. She supposes that's true, that our lives have to change. It must be wholly rearranged and disturbed to clear a path. This path helps a person find their way to the place they were meant to be all along. It's a challenging journey, but it requires great faith. Everything had to happen the way it did to get her to the next level.
And the thing about that is that she will always end up disappointed by continuing to expect people to act in the same manner she would. So really, it should not be surprising to find out her trusted friend, Lady Flora, is her Dowager Aunt's trusted adviser. But to know her father had thought this through is unnerving. The whole time he treated her so ill.
Coming back from fainting, she found herself in her husband's arms. Not caring who was in the room, Mary held onto him and yelled. "Why?! Why did you treat me so poorly, so shoddily? Why, when you're the one who brought my trusted confidant into my life?" The tears streamed down her face. Her voice hit its mark as her father jumped slightly at her tone. Charles tightened his hold.
In a broad stance, the King gestured wildly with his hands. "Would you have believed it if I had told you? Would you have accepted it? That I, the King— your father, could do something kind? That I would look out for you despite putting your mother aside?"
Well, when he puts it like that, she supposes, "I wouldn't have." But still, it would have been nice to know.
He continued to gesture, looking like a complete loon to anyone who saw. "It's not like I could have told you. Then certain people would have come after you even harder, and I do draw the line at having my child killed. I realize they tried to kill Charles, and I also drew a line there. I had to act how I did. I had to play that part, and part of it was my own foolish fault. I blindly let people make me believe in things that never came true. And in truth, I do want companionship, so I suppose I will marry again. Even if I do, I don't care if I have a male heir anymore. I had one and lost it. Besides, I have you."
This is all understandable, but... How dare he? How dare he meddle in her life? How dare he leave her a sitting duck and not offer any protection? Her hands balled up the sides of her dress in anger.
Fixing his gaze on his wife, Charles noticed the tension mounting in her. He saw her hands at her side, and the set look on her face. Realizing she was angry, he told her, "Get it out and say what you need to say. If you push it down, it will only cause bitterness and spoil what you've worked on today."
So she took his advice and seized the moment. "I am so mad right now," she blurted out. It was then laughter could be heard from beside her. Turning to look, she saw her husband trill with laughter. "Of all the nerve! You laugh at me?" She's a touch agitated between her husband's mocking and her father's maddening meddlesome ways. In a fit, her hand snatched up a ceramic statue of David. He flew across the room and hit the wall.
This only made Charles laugh louder. "Oh, God! There it is! There's the Tudor temper you've been hiding away all these years. I knew it was there, somewhere." His wife glowered at him. He wiped laughter tears from his eyes. Then he turned to look at Henry, who wore a smirk.
Realizing she ruined a unique object, remorse hit the Princess. "Oh, Father! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to destroy a valuable figurine." She shook her head at herself.
His Majesty held a hand up. "It's quite alright. I never liked the thing, to begin with. It was given to me by the Count of Modena. I think it's fake, at least that's what the Doge's sons told me." He moved to sit in his favorite chair. "Now tell me, what has set your Tudor temper off?"
Once he sat, she stood and began pacing as he had done before. "Aren't you exhausted, Father? Aren't you exhausted at meddling in my life? It has to be a very tiresome job. And what makes you think you can better handle my affairs when you have so many of your own?" She left out the part about how he can hardly keep a wife and how the North distrusts him.
Half the things coming out of her mouth, Charles cannot believe she's saying. It takes courage to be honest, especially with a King as a father. He's proud that she's standing up and letting herself be seen and heard. He reached for a glass of cold mead.
"Well, forgive me for trying to help your life along." The King sat brooding, evidenced by his crossed arms and frustrated face.
Mary pointed her finger at him. "Oh no. You don't get to play wounded. Not when I've lived through various kinds of hell and come out the other side." Then both Charles and Henry laughed. She rounded on them. "How dare the both of you laugh at me like that?" It was then she sat down, mimicking her father almost precisely.
His Majesty explained, "You reminded me so much of your mother. She was the only woman I'd allow to scold me like that. And she would, when I deserved it. I understand your frustration, Mary. I do. But again, I could hardly ask your opinion on things, so I did what I thought best. And just look how it turned out. Sometimes I surprise myself."
Truly the Prince wants to tell his friend to stop being selfish. But then he is selfish and has been so for a very long time. He's never stopped to consider how his behavior has affected those around him. His own comfort, ideas, and convenience are essential.
In a moment of true confession, Henry declared something. "Look, I'm not perfect, even though I'm the King. There are plenty of mistakes I make every day. That's what I do. I'm only human. I speak without thinking as well. I am prone to action after seeking the best advice. Although I did not seek anyone's opinion on the matter of you, Mary. I'm your father; I have presumptive authority. I drink a lot at times and enjoy games. I love women, but I'm an amazing friend, and hopefully, I can be an even better father. And God knows that I mean well. I meant well with you."
Mary gave her dad a curious look. "The road to Hell is paved with many good intentions." She sat stewing as she glared into nothingness. The thought also crossed her mind that people with good intentions make promises, but only those with good hearts keep them. How ironic.
"Oh, Mary. Must you be so trying?" His Majesty asked. Turning to his son-in-law, he pointed out, "You're her husband. Won't you deal with this attitude?"
A terrible idea came to His Highness's mind. He interjected, looking at his wife, "My Darling, stop upsetting your father. He's disturbed to know you're behaving just like him."
Henry could be heard grumbling something like, "Seriously, I don't know why I even bother sometimes."
After this, the trio discussed further the essential matters of state regarding Mary being Queen one day. It was settled that she would discuss Queen training with Lady Flora upon returning to Cardiff. The King thought it wise to not let her identity be made known. Plus, Her Highness didn't want to put her mentor in harm's way. And both she and Charles flat out refused to move into the palace, citing, "Absolutely not. We will not move here unless it's important, which it isn't. Until such time for the kingdom to pass onto us, we will be governing our two provinces from our home in Wales."
The King huffed about that. "Well, how will I ever have you ready to be King? And how will I be able to train my grandsons?" One look at him, and you could tell he was thoroughly displeased.
Setting his goblet down, Charles told him, "Our sons just turned two. They can barely talk. Let them have a childhood before having to act like princes of the realm."
This set Mary off on a tangent. "Since you meddled in my life, you probably have William's future all planned out, don't you?"
Taking a paper out of a folder, His Majesty inspected it. "Why I'm so glad you asked. Indeed I do. Since you already matched Owen to the Doge of Venice's granddaughter, I have here a document drawn up regarding William. On a side note, that is a very advantageous betrothal you made. Owen could have had any noble girl, even a princess. Venice is a good alliance. Now onto William, your heir— who essentially is my heir too." He passed a copy of the document to his grandson's parents.
The couple investigated this paper. The Prince looked up from it. "You are joking?" His father-in-law shook his head no. "A betrothal to the King of Portugal's granddaughter? The Royal family conspired to have me killed! Have you forgotten that?"
Waving him off with his hand, Henry wore a bored expression. "I'm not an idiot. Of course, I haven't forgotten. The Royal members who were a part of that plot have been tried for treason. They were killed. The son's daughter William would be betrothed to had no part in that. In fact, he was unaware of it, as his family was in Rome on business." He reached for a piece of cheese on a platter as if they were discussing hunting and not betrothal.
Running a hand over his face, Charles asked, "And how are we to know he doesn't feel bitter over what happened? Am I to wake up one day and discover this Portuguese Princess has killed my son in revenge for what took place? I don't like this match."
This led to a back and forth disagreement between him and the King, with his Royal Majesty letting him know, "We need Portugal as an ally." However, His Highness was not convinced. His position is there are other ways to secure an alliance besides offering up his son on a silver platter. This led to raised voices and eventually shouting.
Mary held her hand up and intervened. "Both of you are acting like spoiled children. Now I'm tired, and I'm hungry. Today has been an emotional day for us all. Let's not end it on a bad note. A lot of good has been accomplished. William can't even write his name. Let's table this discussion for later." She gave her husband a stern look. He acquiesced, and the King did too.
Having hugged his daughter again, he dismissed them until time for dinner. They returned to their rooms drained and in need of a lie-down. Letting the servants know not to disturb them, they undressed down to their unmentionables. She was in her shift, and he was half-dressed and lying on the bed. As he raked his fingers through her hair, they lay there content.
Before they took a nap, he told her, "I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you told your father the truth. I'm happy you didn't shy away from telling him hard things, even if he might not have wanted to hear it."
She hummed softly in agreement. There's a sparkle in her eyes from the praise she was given. Her husband is the highest of all the opinions she cares about. "Thank you. You were right. I needed to get all out of my system."
Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then they took a long afternoon nap, only to wake up to chaos. Hearing shouting and raised voices coming from the hallway, Charles quickly threw his white shirt on, tucked it into his pants, put on his leather boots, and went to see what the matter was.
Mary didn't wait. She went to the wardrobe and put on an easy dress she could find. Not caring a wit that blue peacock feathers aren't proper mourning attire, she dressed and joined her husband. Sir William, Anthony, Dot, Paisley, Lady Agnes, her helper Gwyn, and most importantly, His Majesty were all situated in the sitting room. All the men rose when she entered. Charles led her to sit in his chair. He knelt in front and took her hands in his.
Training their eyes onto her, the King leaned forward to speak. "Daughter, there has been a bit of an occurrence happen. While you were napping, Lady Ashdown and Lady Gwyn took the twins outside. They were approached by a few other courtly ladies interested in seeing the boys. They started talking, and William wandered off. No one knows where he is. I have sent a search party out looking for him."
Just as Lady Agnes was about to speak, the Princess jumped up and rushed out of the room. Her only thoughts are of her missing baby. She ran outside, where she stopped and got her bearings. This is not new behavior from William. He does this at home too. Anytime their outdoors, he tends to get excited and curious. He's a nature baby who'd prefer to be out exploring than cooped up inside.
Thinking like her child, she tried to recall all the things Will loves. He loves horses, dogs, and birds, especially geese, ducks, and swans. She thinks she knows where he might be. But before she could attempt to go there, Charles ran up to her. The other men in the party, the King, Anthony, and Sir William, met up with them.
They all eyed her for signs of distress. In the meantime, her eyes wandered over each of them. "I think I know where my son might have gone. I need the three of you to check the stables, the dog kennels, and the rookery. There's a chance he may have gone to one of those places. Charles is coming with me." The group split up to search.
The Prince followed his wife. He asked, "Where do you think he's gone off?"
She held his hand as they walked fast. "Well, to be honest, this isn't the first time he's meandered off. He does so at home too. You see, he gets caught up in nature anytime he's outside and wants to go explore. I've been meaning to tell you about that. It's just slipped my mind."
Charles gave her a look of unbelief at those words. She tried to reassure him by saying, "I know. I would be annoyed with myself too. However, one day not too long after his birthday, William and I went animal detecting together. Owen wanted to stay inside. Knowing that he loves waterfowl, I took him to the quiet lake past the guest cottages, not the one I always go to. I think he might be there trying to catch the goose."
Letting out a huff, the Prince of Wales asked, "We're walking all the way there? It would be faster to ride my horse. How does he even remember how to get there?"
"I took him there several times. He's got a sharp memory. And in the time it would take to saddle the horse, we can be there walking. We're halfway there now," she explained.
The two walked in companionable silence, although a tinge of worry ran through both. If their son isn't at the quiet, secluded lake, they have no idea what to do. There was also fear in the pits of their stomachs. The proverbial what if he fell into the lake? William and Owen don't know how to swim. Neither felt like speaking that out loud.
Hot, winded, and a bit perspiring, the duo made it. Both of their eyes scanned each direction. It was Charles who saw him first. His finger pointed to a spot close to where the swans were gliding. "Look! Over there."
In a flash, Mary took off to her baby. Her husband is hot on her heels. When they reached the little boy, his mother grabbed hold of him and scooped him up. She hugged and kissed him all over his face. Once she put him down, his father also pulled him into an embrace. The Prince stated, "William, you cannot run off from anyone anymore. Do you understand? You could have gotten hurt or worse. That was very naughty."
Sweet William's bottom lip and chin trembled. Tears formed in his eyes, for he's not used to being called naughty and felt badly for leaving. "I sorry, Daddy," he said. His mother, who has tears falling too, took hold of him again. She stood hugging him as he cried on her shoulder.
Charles patted his son's back. With a softer voice, he spoke. "William, Mama, and Daddy love you. Just don't do that again." His son nodded.
After telling him it was time to return to the palace, Mary promised, "I'll bring you back here tomorrow. We'll bring a bread basket to feed the animals." Her son's face brightened a bit.
When they returned to the palace, His Highness called the search party off. Then they walked to their chambers. At first sight of the boy, the King rushed over. He took his grandson into his arms and held him. Seeing his grandfather's tears, the tot put a hand on each cheek. "I sorry, Papa," he made known.
Henry held the boy closer. His shaky voice told him, "I thought I had lost you too." As the two hugged, the rest of the room marveled at the sight. No one has seen their King act like this before. He's not usually the overly affectionate type of person, especially if it's not one of his women "friends."
But Mary knows better now. There is a heart buried deep beneath the surface of all that regal attire he wears. And while she may be hesitant to jump headfirst into her father's affection, she's glad her children are not like that. They're full of love and pure innocence. With the passing of his male heir, it's beginning to seem like he's viewing William as the heir he's never had.
She thinks that might come to a head as her son grows older. For she and Charles should be the ones to dictate how he's trained and taught. Her father doesn't need to meddle. But for now, she's okay with allowing him the leave to dote on his grandsons.