Day three of laying in bed is going the same as day one. Charles Brandon is grumpy. He's been molly-coddled and assisted with everything. On the first day, he understood rather perfectly why he needed assistance. His strength is not yet back to full force. Even today, he is weak, though nothing like the days before.
He could not move his head and was worthless to lift even a finger. Talking had been a strain. But that was then. Now he's gained more strength, and his muscles are ready to aid him of their own free will. Yet still, he must lie in bed. He's tired of hearing, "The doctor has ordered you to be in bed for four days. You will not move until he has cleared you to do so." So here he lies, irritable and cantankerous.
If he has to listen to any more of Sir Lamorak and the Grouchy Giant, he will lose his mind. Mary entered with a servant girl bringing a tray of fruits, vegetables, and bread. The girl sat the food at the table, curtsied, then left. That's another thing making him fussy. He huffed out a breath of contempt and muttered, "Stupid fruit and vegetables."
His wife heard this. "The stupid fruit and vegetables will help you gain strength and not work against your stomach." She walked to the bed and helped gather him into a comfortable eating position, though he grumbled as she did so. Her eyes narrowed at his blue ones as she tucked the napkin into the front of his tunic. This action also made him irritable. He asked, "I'm not a child. Must I wear the napkin like one?"
While the Princess brought the tray of food over, she remarked, "My, but someone is wearing their grumpy pants today." She laid out his utensils and went to fetch a goblet of water.
Staring at the accursed food, he sighed. "Yes, I have them on. In fact, not only am I wearing my grumpy pants, I have on the whole complete outfit."
Mary laughed at his comment and handed him the water. He placed it at the back of the tray. She sat beside him as he began to eat, though with a sulky attitude. Taking the book from the bedside table, she opened chapter seven. "Let's see what Sir Lamorak is up to today in his quest for bravery against the Grouchy Giant. I wonder if he will reach the giant's lair?"
His Highness's fork stilled in front of his mouth. He put it down in a rough manner. "Mary, must we hear what Sir Lamerock is doing? Can't I eat in peace?"
Her lips pinched together, and her eyes stared him down. "Lam-or-ak," she enunciated the syllables.
Charles challenged her by again saying, "Lamerock." He knew what he was getting himself into by calling the knight that, but he didn't care. His eyes stared hers down- blue against blue. She would either argue with him or leave him to eat in peace. Either option is good. The argument itself is energy well spent, especially since he's done nothing for two (going on three) days now. But if she leaves, then he doesn't have to hear any tales of knights.
Their eyes continued in a locked battle. Until His Majesty entered the room with stately grace and navy velvet clothes fastened with diamond buttons. He took one look at the scene before him and asked, "What is this? The war room of King Francis and The Holy Roman Emperor?" He walked over and inspected Charles's lunch. His nose wrinkled in distaste.
The Prince saw that and motioned with his hand. "You look hungry, Sire. Here have my food." He held out the utensils for him.
Henry waved them off and took a seat beside his daughter. "No. I had a hearty breakfast of ham, cold chicken, cheese, bread, and honeyed figs. I'm quite filled." Charles's mouth watered hearing of those things.
The Princess marked her place with the ribbon. She smiled sweetly at her father and did the same to her husband. "Yes. Of course, you did, father. Unlike Charles, who is just regaining his strength and stomach. Once the doctor clears him, he can eat the same things as you."
Charles rolled his eyes, picked up his fork, and stabbed a piece of pear. In his head, he cursed the doctor three times. Mary saw the action and whipped her head to her father. "Don't mind him. He's rude and grumpy today. Oh, wait. That's how he's been every day this week. So it's his personality."
This statement made His Highness put the fork down. He commented to his wife and friend, "Yesterday I tried looking on the brighter side of life. It hurt my eyes. So I started telling myself positive things instead. Like Dear Me, you have been through a lot. I know it's hard to lie in bed and eat crappy food. But I'm proud of who you are because you haven't once yelled at the staff. You are strong and brave and bright and smart. If I have to listen to Sir Lamerock anymore, I might just fa-"
He did not finish that statement because his wife clapped her hand over his mouth. A roaring laugh from the King filled the room. Mary glared daggers at both of them. She got up from the bed, smoothed out the skirt of her gown, and picked up her teacup from this morning. Holding it up, with her eyes on her husband, she declared, "I had been wondering where my cup of care went off to." Then she turned it over. "Oh, look! It's empty." She swiveled on her heel to the door and left.
But Charles called her back. "Mary!" he yelled. He can now holler again, and it doesn't exhaust him. She opened the door and poked her head inside, annoyance all over her face. His Highness told her, "Please be back this afternoon. I must know what's happening with Sir Lamerock." She pursed her lips and knitted her brows together in frustration before slamming the door shut.
The Prince smirked as his friend laughed. Before he speared any more food, he mentioned, "I shouldn't tease her so. But it gets very tedious laying in bed doing nothing. I'm about at my wit's end." Then he ate a bland meal of fruit and vegetables.
Keeping him company, Henry began telling him of all the goings on at Court. He started with the tournament for his new wife, which ended with, "I dearly wish you could have been there. You would have won the whole thing again. Henry Surrey is no match for you." Then he spoke of Spain and France. One of the new goals is "To reestablish lines of broken communication with Spain." He then told Charles how he desires, "To send you and Mary there as emissaries of the Royal Court. You will arbitrate a better alliance for England and Spain."
At first, the Prince's headache seemed to return. The grumpiness he felt reared its ugly head within him. He did not want to go to Spain to settle agreements. It's the last thing on his mind when his wife's life is in danger. The minute he thought of her life and the poison, the irritability backed off some. Spending time away from the English Court, away from the Howards, could be the best thing. Plus, she's wanted to visit Spain, the land of her mother's family, for some time now.
So His Highness declared, "When the doctor has given me the all-clear, we will set sail for Spain. Are we allowed access to one of the Royal ships?" If they are, then several smaller vessels will accompany them for protection on the high seas.
The King agreed to the Prince and Princess taking one of the ships. It also led to the announcement, "The poison inquiry has another new development. The man seen has been identified as a servant of the Percy household. His name is John Pringle, a valet. Lord Percy claims no knowledge of any plot and is greatly disturbed to hear of Pringle's involvement. Now, this is where the story gets interesting. Pringle has not been seen for days since he was identified in the palace kitchens. Well, all of a sudden, he turned up in Northumberland at the border. Guess what?"
Charles had no idea what to guess. But by the look on Henry's face, it can't be anything good. So he lay there listening, taking it all in.
Henry leaned forward and bore his eyes into his friend's. "Pringle was found dead. Ironically the man had been poisoned. I had the guards quietly investigate the type of poison used. It's been found that he was poisoned with the same oleander as put in Mary's cup. However, Pringle's dosage had been so high that it made him foam at the mouth. I've been told it was quite disturbing the appearance of him."
Wow! The Prince ran a hand over his face, then leaned back on the headboard. His arms crossed. "So we're no better off now than when the investigation began at the wedding banquet." The headache is coming around again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
His Majesty sat back in the chair and twisted the emerald ring around his forefinger. "Not necessarily. While the main subject is dead, other things are happening in the background. We've still got a hell of a lead with this. First, it's been alluded to by the Royal physician and your Doctor Pearce."
Charles gave his friend a look at the mention of his mentor's name. Henry held up his hand. "I needed a second opinion on the matter, so I messaged him. In fact, we've been messaging back and forth on your condition as well as the poisoning. But both men say the same thing. Oleander is not a native plant to England. It's a Mediterranean flower and loves to grow by the seaside. Your Doctor Pearce suggested that if it were cultivated in the country, it would have to be grown in the warmest coastal territories. That means the small region in the southwest and the tiny area in East Anglia."
Oh, God! Charles's eyes snapped open at those two words... East Anglia. Anyone cognizant of geography knows that East Anglia comprises two regions, Suffolk and "Norfolk." The word slid off his tongue like bitter wine.
The King beamed at his friend's knowledge. One thing about Henry Tudor is that while he loves his women, he also loves foiling a plot. Mysteries provide him with as much entertainment as sex, games, revelries, and hunting. "Right you are! I am not eager to upset my new wife, but Mary is my daughter. Catherine might be my wife, but Mary has always been my child. She is my heir to the throne. I made peace with that a few years ago. The Duke of Norfolk is not my favorite person. The man is a useful idiot and a greedy snake. I know you agree with that assessment. At present, I am quietly investigating him and his family. This also includes my illegitimate son's wife, Mary Howard FitzRoy. So, what are your thoughts on this news?" He got up and poured himself a cup of water. It's not the same as wine, but it will do.
Charles shook his head. "I would like to say I'm surprised, but I'm not. The man and his family are a stain. They tried to do away with myself and Mary when your second wife was on the throne. Now it appears they're trying again. I cannot sit idly by and do nothing while they plot to harm my wife. I feel another headache coming on." He closed his eyes to ground himself.
His Majesty came to stand by the bed. He placed his hands on his hips. "Now, I know you're upset-"
Charles interrupted him by blurting out, "Damn right I am! She's my wife!" The anger sizzled in his body.
Henry understands his friend's sentiment. "Yes, and she's my heir. I know you're upset, and you should be. But I do not want you inserting yourself into this. You know I quietly learned about the plot with Portugal and took care of it. I will find the poison plot out, too, and when I do, the perpetrators will answer to me. No matter if it's the Duke of Norfolk himself. This is also one of the reasons I want you to go to Spain. You'll be there for most of the fall season, but do be back for the twin's birthday. You know I like to celebrate them." It was not a request but an order.
The Prince of Wales groaned. "And what are we to do about security? I already have the majority of the guards on Mary, even some quietly undercover in the background."
Henry placed a hand of comfort on his friend's shoulder. "I have ordered extra guards for you. I have more than enough for all the palaces, myself, and my wife, so I can afford to lend you some. As for the food taster, that still stands. You will have one for the palace and one for Wales. On the trip, you will take the one from the Royal Court with you. I assure you that this plot's perpetrators will be found and brought to full justice."
With a shake of the head, Charles agreed. The King stayed, and the two played cards. But His Highness lost two rounds in a row, which he never does. He lost because his mind stayed on his wife, as he kept thinking about the Howard family.
Luckily he did not have to lose a third time. Mary returned with a smile on her face. Not one of those fake ones she gave earlier, but a real one. She appears to be happy, and that makes him cheery too.
Henry laid his cards down and stood up. "I think I need to get back to my chambers. There are several messages I need to review."
Pouring herself a glass of water, the Princess commented, "Father, you don't have to leave so soon. I know Charles enjoys your company."
His Majesty picked up the glass he had been using and returned it to the circular table where his daughter stood. He laid a hand on her shoulder and spoke. "Thank you for the invitation. But I've been here the majority of the afternoon. I think I will take my leave now." And he did just that, leaving the room in the same regal manner as he entered.
Silence filled the room as only Charles and Mary were left. They locked eyes the same way they had before the King entered earlier. Except for this time, their eyes are softer and gentler. With water in hand, she ventured to the bedside and sat. He immediately took her free hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss.
Looking her husband over for signs of fatigue, Her Highness told him, "The doctor cleared you for taking a longer walk. It's a beautiful day out. I thought you might like to walk out in the gardens and breathe some fresh air."
He nodded his approval, and Mary called for his valet to help him dress. The outfit he wore is extremely spartan, consisting of brown breeches, a clean white tunic, and boots: no fancy doublet or overcoat, likewise no chains or anything of that nature. The only item establishing him as royalty is the ruby signet ring on his finger and his wife by his side.
Her fingers smoothed his hair before they left the room. She started to walk out, but he stilled her and pulled her into a meaningful embrace. It's their first hug standing up since he'd been poisoned. They held onto each other and soaked in the warmth of their love. Charles kissed his wife's forehead tenderly, and they held hands exiting the room.
As they left their apartments altogether, she expressed to him, "If you start to feel tired at all, tell me, and we'll stop to rest." He gave her a look of understanding as they started their walk.
Mary stayed by his side all along the palace halls, with their guards following closely. She never left him even when various lords and ladies stopped to wish him well, like the insufferable Earl of Derby. It dawned on him just how far-reaching gossip goes, as everyone they met spoke and inquired about his health. The whole palace and possibly the whole country knew of his poisoning.
Every so often, his eyes would steal glances at his wife. All smiles, and grace, she's wearing a beautiful ivory and gold beaded embroidered-lace gown. It has sheer sleeves, and it fits her perfectly. Now he realizes he's partial, but she's the most stunning woman in the kingdom. She's outshined every wife and Queen of the King, which continues to happen. When he's with her, this part of him feels like one of the King of France's proud peacocks.
Not only is she beautiful, but she's kind and generous to a fault. Her mind is sharp, and she has a great sense of humor. And the more they walk with her by his side, the more at peace he feels. No matter how grumpy he gets, she's right there with him. Through any rough patch in their marriage, they have always come out of it more substantial together. That is a blessing, especially since it hasn't always been so in his life. Instead of her holding his arm, he dropped it and slipped his rough hand into her delicate one.
As the pair walked by the massive garden fountain, Charles began to grow tired. Though not as tired as days past. This afternoon promenade has allowed him to see how much strength he's regained. He noticed the garden bench up ahead. "Let's stop. I want to catch my breath," he mentioned.
Of course, like the loving wife she is, Mary fretted for him. "Are you sure you're alright? Should we go back inside?" Her hand squeezed his.
He returned her squeeze. "No, I'm fine. Let's just rest for a moment." So that's what they did, sitting side-by-side in the cool breeze. He motioned for the guards to check for unwelcome busy-bodies.
Putting his arm around her, he stated, "It's nice to be outdoors. I've been shut up in that room, about to lose my mind." Sometimes the best cure is being outside, surrounded by nature and the heavens.
Mary patted her husband's leg. "Mmhmm, I agree. After you aggravated me, I was out here before, and I thought it might do you some good to get out. So I checked with the doctor, and he agreed."
A slight smile came to his lips as he thought about himself annoying her. "I apologize for my earlier behavior. I've been restless and took it out on you when you've been nothing but good to me. You know how much I hate being cooped up and unable to care for myself," he acknowledged.
Turning to him, Mary placed her hand on the side of his face and stroked over his stubble. With his face angled at hers, she told him, "I know Charles. I know how much you hate being tended to because you think it makes you weak. But you're not. Allowing others to care for you when you're ill shows strength. You can't do it all yourself." She gave him a soft peck on his lips.
Then he got cheeky with her. "Just remember those words, Sweetheart, when you take ill." He winked, and she nudged him in the side with her boney elbow. He pretended to be hurt.
As they sat under the sun, surrounded by numerous summer flowers, the Prince presented the King's proposition of them going to Spain. He explained how her father wants them to be his emissaries negotiating with her cousin for a better alliance. He also let her know what nobility would be accompanying them. The main noble Lord is the Duke of Somerset, Edward Seymour. It bothers him as he thinks Seymour would be better served to stay in England keeping an eye on the Howards. But what does Charles know? And he ended it with, "I think in light of the subtle poison investigation going on that this would be a good holiday for us." Anything he can do to keep her safe, he will.
As she thought about Spain, one request came to mind. "Are we allowed to bring the children?"
He chuckled. "Yes, we'll bring them." There's no way he's leaving their children behind like sitting ducks. They'll be with them the whole time.
An excitement began to build in his wife. He could tell by how her eyes sparkled and danced and the smile fixed on her face. "Oh, we get to go to Spain! I've wanted to go for so long, ever since Mother died. We can show the children their grandmother's history. I need to bring the deed to her estates that she left me in her will. There's so much to do." She threw her arms around her husband in elation.
Her joy is contagious because he, too, felt a particular enthusiasm in his spirit. It wasn't there before. Her attitude is worth catching, just like the culprits of the poison. But he's not going to dwell on that with her so happy and him feeling joyful too.