Before leaving London, Charles gave the driver and the Captain of the Royal Guard accompanying them the itinerary for the route. The way himself and the King planned it out would put them at almost a week's journey to Kleve. The envoy will make three stops along the way, the first in Bruges, then on to Antwerp, followed by the township of Eindhoven, and from there Kleve. They will follow the same course on the way back home. The Captain thought the route seemed sufficient and gave his approval without any discourse. This is a rare thing, as is not usually the case.
Traveling is something Mary enjoys. She loves the thrill of getting to see new places and experience new things. When but a small girl, she traveled with her parents from near and far. This continued into her early precocious years but stopped once she had been displaced at Ludlow. She's hopeful that Charles will take her more places now. He's said he would, and although he did not plan this trip, she's thankful for the opportunity to get out and go view the world with him.
One thing she has learned over the years of expeditions is that it makes you humble. The world has a way of making one modest, for you realize just how small a place you occupy in it. Another thing she has learned is that travel leaves you breathless. All the sights to be seen have a way of making one a great writer or master storyteller. And it's not enough to hear, or read about, what people say regarding locations. No. You have to go experience it for yourself. Even if that place is across the other side of town, it's the going that counts.
So for this journey, she brought along her old traveling companion- her journal. She's had it since she was able to write. Inside it holds all her memories of journeys throughout her life thus far. Now, this trip will be documented for posterity too. As the carriage left London, she recorded her thoughts starting out and wrote the itinerary for the day.
Charles saw her writing and asked, "What's that you've got there?"
Her Highness placed the navy velvet ribbon bookmark and held it up. "This is my travel journal. I've kept it since I was at least seven when I could understand what I wrote." She passed it to him.
He smiled as he flipped pages seeing her handwriting and thoughts transform from a child to a young woman's. But he also sees, "Lots of blank pages are left to be filled. You and I need to do something about that. At least once a year we should take a trip together, just we two. When the kids are older, we'll take them along with us, perhaps."
Her face lit up, and she wore a soft smile. "I would love that," she stated. She can't help but beam at the thought of taking more trips with her husband. For whom better to travel with than her best friend and lover?
As the journey grew into its first leg, His Highness cast aside his paperwork and "kingly" reading material. There's something more pressing on his mind than King Aethelred The Unready. Gazing at his wife with a smug expression, he slid closer to her. Not allowing her to turn her head from her viewing out the window, he placed one arm about her waist and the other on her shoulder. Then he inhaled her sweet scent of roses, vanilla, and something fruity.
She sported a playful countenance and tilted her head back to lay her neck bare to him. "Do you need something, Sir?" She asked, knowing exactly what he needs or rather what he wants.
Bringing his nose to her neck, he rubbed it over the area. Then he kissed it. He saw her shiver at the touch of his lips, and it did something to him. His gravelly voice spoke, "Yes. I'm in great need of you, Wife."
In his arms, she turned around and fixed her eyes on his. Moving ever so slowly, she placed her lips on his forehead and kissed, then both his cheeks for the same. Finally, she brushed her lips seductively over his once, twice, which he growled. So she did it a third time before giving him what he wants. But when she did, he let out a little moan from the back of his throat.
He pulled her into his lap, and she parted her lips to him. His hands ran over her back, and hers entwined in his hair. They were as close as they could be with clothes on. As they kissed, she felt him wash over her like one of the great waves at Cardigan Beach. It curled her toes and unraveled her senses as his taste quelled her thoughts.
Both their bodies prickled and felt on fire. The Prince's skilled mouth claimed hers again and again. Their senses began working over time as he pulled her in closer, begging, yearning for more. But then her mind came to herself, and she gently wrenched her mouth away. He thought he would die, literally. He laid his head back on the headrest and gave a groan of displeasure.
She chuckled. "Charles, we tried this before, remember?" He groaned again. "Exactly, I hated it. It was entirely uncomfortable, not to mention unsanitary. So you'll just have to be patient. As they say, good things come to those who wait."
His eyes closed in frustration. "I had hoped you had forgotten your distaste for carriage sex. That one time was so long ago, Mary. You may have changed your mind." She gave him an unchangeable look. "One of these days, I will permanently change your mind on this."
She shook her head. Her voice spoke true. "You may try, but I doubt you will." He took that as a challenge and began thinking about how to alter her opinion.
As a measure of good faith, she kissed him senseless for the majority of the journey to Bruges. Heady romance lingered in the air. This only made Charles impatient for Castle Ten Berghe, where they'll stay the night. A restlessness ascended on the carriage.
Once they arrived, late in the afternoon, Lord and Lady Despaers met the party and welcomed them into their scenic castle. Lady Despaers showed the group to their lodgings. She also told them what time dinner is to be served. After a long day of riding, the first thing Her Highness saw fit to do is to lay on the bed for a nap. As much as Charles wants to join her, he can't since he's the face of this trip. It's up to him to mingle and make a good showing for the King. Technically, his wife should be with him, but he knows she's worn out. However, he did change his tunic and doublet.
They dined in the great hall on a feast of roasted ham with all the trimmings for dinner. After which, there were minstrels for dancing. Having drunk a few cups of Ale, His Highness now had relatively high spirits. Because of this, he forgoed his usual dismissal of the dance. He stretched out his hand and invited his wife onto the floor. "I offer you my hand, My Lady." With much enthusiasm, she accepted his invitation. The two of them made a lively pair with the music.
When time became appropriate, the Prince and Princess retired to their room. Still, in good spirits, Charles came behind his sweetheart and began helping her with the dress. He moved her luscious hair aside and started kissing a trail on her neck as the dress lowered. She relaxed in his arms, but the minute he dared to continue by picking her up and placing her on the bed, she told him, "Charles, I don't think we should. The walls are thin, and people may hear."
However, he looked at her and issued his own challenge. "That's why you'll have to be quiet." He commenced kissing her again.
But she had other ideas and voiced them. "No. We are in someone's home, not a castle for the people like my father's palaces. It would serve us well to remember to have propriety of manners. That and consideration of others is the two marks of a true gentleman. I know I sometimes call you uncouth, but you are a gentleman and a Prince. We have to rise above our desires, at least for tonight."
He shook his head and began to whine. "But we can be quiet." Nevertheless, he saw her face and knew her mind is severely unchanged in this position. So yet another lament left his mouth as he resigned himself to his fate. The same thing happened when the envoy arrived in Antwerp at Sterckshof Castle. Still, more outcries of frustration came from him, as did another restless night. Then in Eindhoven, at Heeze Castle, His Highness had enough.
The envoy was allowed to stay at Heeze in good faith by order of Emporer Charles V. And it's here that another Charles enacted his own rule of law in the bedroom. He had been outdoors riding over the grounds with the Duke of Brabant, mainly trying to quell his fierce desires. Though he's only flesh and bone, he is a burning man. It's a burning only his wife can put out.
Sweaty and wind-blown, he entered the room he and Mary had been assigned. Inquiring of a servant where his wife is, he became directed to the bath. Thanking the servants and ordering them out, he began shucking off his things. As quiet as mouse, his feet carried him into the room. He stood, leaning on the door frame, eyeing her every move like a big hungry lion- because he is hungry, hungry for her. His inspection seemed to last for hours to him when it only lasted a few seconds.
Hearing the door open, Her Highness asked, "Joan, would you hand me the frangipani soap for my hair?" She held out her hand and waited.
Instead, she received two strong hands placed on her neck. The miraculous hands performed a massage as Charles joined her in the tub. He settled his legs on either side of hers. A gasp came out of her mouth along with the words, "What do you think you are doing?" She craned her neck to try to get a look at him.
The air in the room changed. It buzzed with a type of hunger. "This," is all Charles said. His hands began to wander, as did his lips to her back. "I've had enough of waiting. So I thought I'd claim my reward for being so patient." His mouth kissed the spot of her neck that leaves her a keening mess.
Raising up and turning around, Mary gave him praise. "You have endured this hardship with much forbearance. You poor, poor, patient man. Though it's been bitter, its reward is sweet." She batted her eyelashes at him in a coquettish manner and began brushing her hand over his calf. Any remaining patience he had left the castle entirely. His mouth found hers in a swift, bold move, and she hadn't been prepared for its intensity.
Although silly her, she should have been. Everything about her husband screams rugged and potent. His eyes, his choice of words at the right moment, his hands, his smile, his everything is powerful. That substantial kiss, so full of need and want, lit her up like a bonfire. A bonfire so forceful the only thing to put it out is to give in. So that's what she did- she gave him her time, her attention, her care, and herself. A little piece inside her wishes she could be like that- a commanding presence.
Every kiss, every move, every touch became a Divine symphony. The ardent couple reconnected with each other after going days apart and sore. But the thing both Mary and Charles agree on is they never just make love to the body. They make love to their mind, bodies, and souls. Their love is so different from any love they've ever had or heard described. It's a soul connection in which no string is visible. It's true. And while Mary wishes to be more commanding like her husband, he desires to be more courtly like her.
The lovers awoke refreshed and renewed in their love and spirits the following day. After dressing and breaking their fast with the Duke and Duchess of Brabant, the bridal fetching party got back on the road. Today is the day they're making haste to Kleve and should arrive by early afternoon.
On the way there, His Highness continued reading about the different Kings of England. The Princess read too, but her book took her into the love story of Sir Geraint and Lady Enid of Cardiff. It's called The Brave and The Beautiful. She had just finished the chapter that begins their journey, proving her love for him in a series of trials. A sigh left her mouth.
Her husband marked his page and peered at her. "Oh, God. What are you reading? Some rubbish love story, I'm certain."
She playfully swatted him with her hand. "Charles, it's not rubbish, but yes. It's a love story. The story of Sir Geraint and Lady Enid of Cardiff. Did you know she called him lazy? A knight of King Arthur's court called lazy! Of all the nerve. But then guess what?" He looked at her enthusiasm and raised his eyebrows for her to continue.
So, she did. "Sir Geraint accused her of cheating on him! This led him to take Lady Enid on a journey to prove her love to him. I've just gotten to that part, so I don't know what will happen. But isn't that something?"
He can only smile at the zeal radiating off her. She may love rubbish, but she loves it so joyfully. "Yes. That's something."
Then she, too, marked her page. "It makes me wonder, do you think my father will finally be happy?" Her eyes met his.
If only she'd ask him any question but that one. "I honestly can't say. I mean, let's look at the facts. First of all, he divorced your mother, with whom he was happy for the longest of times. Then he beheaded The Whore, with whom he claimed to have the greatest love story of all time. His demure third wife died giving birth. So far, he does not have a good track record."
She cannot disagree. "Well, it sounds dreadful when you put it that way." And it does. It sounds absolutely terrible.
He took her hand in his. "It does, doesn't it? The thing about this wife is I'm not sure he'll be happy at all, and that's my honest opinion."
Her head tilted towards him. "Charles, why do you say that?"
Smoothing his fingers over the top of her hand. "Sweetheart, he choose her from a picture, not in person, but from a painting. And for the longest time, he couldn't decide who was more beautiful, Anne or her sister Amelia. He told me he would sleep on it and then choose the one he thought prettier. So already, he has two things against him. One, he's never met her in person. Two, her name is Anne."
A disgusted look came over Her Highness's face. "I'm seriously disturbed by both of those things. He chose her based on her beauty, which I understand. You have to be attracted to the person you'll marry, but his standard is beauty alone. It always has been. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too plain for his standards-"
Charles interrupted her. "Stop right there. You, My Darling, are no more plain than the stars in the sky. You are full of beauty, passion, and wonder, from your many floral dresses to your creative mind to your compassionate heart, and that's just the beginning. I see you every day, and I know you inside out, yet you still intrigue me. Your father can kiss a pig if he thinks that. He chose his wife from a picture, so that automatically disqualifies his opinion."
They both chuckled at this truth. After sharing a kiss, the pair returned to their respective readings. As the journey started to come to a close, Mary sight-gazed out the carriage window. With his arm thrown around her, Charles pointed out different landmarks. He's traveled this way before on behalf of his King.
At last, the envoy reached Kleve. At the Clevian court, a welcoming party awaited them consisting of various lords and ladies. But the ones who matter most are the three at the top of the stately stairs. William, Duke of Jülich-Cleves-Berg, and his two sisters, Amelia and Anne of Cleves. And just like that, with but one look at Lady Anne, both Mary and Charles knew the King's new marriage would be a disaster.