There is no safety in an alliance with a powerful person. Influential people are most usually corrupt in some form or other. It's in that power and influence that a man is tempted into ruin. The more clout a person amasses, the more he becomes crooked and in turn, so does the power. It takes a strong person of exemplary character not to be twisted into something unethical and immoral. These are the kinds of thoughts weighing on Charles's mind as he greeted the new day.
It's fitting because he's seen the corruption firsthand with Henry and his Royal Court. However, today he will speak with an even more powerful man than his friend and father-in-law. The Holy Roman Emperor is power hungry, wanting more land for his empire. He can't help but wonder where the Emperor's weakness and corruption lie, although he has a guess.
Breaking his fast with Mary, she questioned him. "Are you ready for the meeting? Do you have everything you need? Is Edward Seymour attending with you?"
Buttering a piece of bread, he responded. "Seymour is not attending this meeting, but he'll attend one after lunch. The Duke of Alburquerque is taking the men on a hunt this morning. I have to say I'm a little jealous, but that's life."
He finished buttering the bread and began loading it with strawberry jam, saying, "I have everything in my folder, but whether I'm ready or not remains to be seen." He took a bite of the bread.
His wife's face looked thoughtful as she put her fork down. "What's troubling you?" she wondered.
Wiping his mouth with the napkin, Charles told her the source of his trouble. "Don't you find it curious how we've been given a resplendent welcome? I realize you are part of the Emperor's family. Hell, you were engaged to the man at one point." He caught her eyes as he said that noticed her curious expression.
After tapping his fingers on the table in thought, he continued. "But despite that, we've been given this vast living suite for our stay. And for my life, I tried to remember the last time I was here. I've pondered it over and over, and I finally recalled it. We were not given rooms like this. Your father and mother were in some smaller-sized room on the other side of the palace. My room, in fact, was as large as the one Sir William has at Hampton Court, which is not very big."
Mary wanted to say something, but he held up a finger telling her to wait. She did, and he resumed his musings. "Plus, last night's welcome banquet was heavy on the food, sweets, and wine. We each received a gilded bronze wine goblet as a gift. Even your father would never give an envoy a token like that. They also brought out the hot chocolate and coffee, which was incredible. Then His Majesty stayed at the table into the wee hours of the morning for the sombermoosa."
With a chuckle, Mary corrected Charles's pronunciation. "It's not sombermoosa. It's sobremesa. The word means over the table, the art of conversation. But what are you getting at with all of your recollections?" She sipped her cup of coffee, getting ready to hear her husband's explanation.
Taking slow sips, the Princess relished the drink. They don't have this savory drink in England yet. She first had it with Ambassador Chapuys on a visit to Ludlow many years ago. He brought a bag of coffee beans with him and even went so far as to show the castle cook, Mrs. Hughes, how to make it. Once the bag of beans ran out, that was it. She didn't care to impose on the Ambassador by asking for another bag, so she did without it. Having the coffee here is a nice treat.
Leaning back in the chair, Charles told her his reasoning. "The Emperor wants something. He's trying to make a good impression in the hopes of buttering us up so that when he makes his request, we'll go along with it. I have no idea what he wants, but it must be something of great magnitude for them to go to all this trouble."
Then as a side note, he mentioned, "I love these crunchy tostadas. And the jam is divine." He pointed to the toasted bread.
While the Prince loves the tostadas, the Princess prefers the magdalenas. The petite lemon muffins dusted with sugar are scrumptious, even more so with the fresh blackberry compote. Since he was finishing his meal, Mary took the time to say, "I can see how it would be easy to conclude what you did. I would like to think the Emperor bestowed this hospitality out of kindness and familial affection. But if my mother and father weren't given this kind of Royal welcome, then I'm unsure. I think I agree with you. I've seen this same kind of tactic used by my father when he wants something from someone significant. Stick to your guns, Charles. Don't let him pressure you into anything you don't feel comfortable agreeing to but don't be hasty either."
Charles reached over and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. His attention now turned solely to his wife. "So, what are you doing today while I'm in meetings?"
She put down her coffee cup and gave a cheerful smile with a lively expression. "Well, Infanta Maria is taking myself and the ladies on a private tour of the palace. Then she arranged a tapas and wine tasting event for us, only to be followed by flamenco dancing lessons. I can't wait! It's going to be so much fun." Her voice gave credence to her enthusiasm.
Unable to control his smile, His Highness leaned over and kissed the side of her head. "It sounds like you'll have a busy day, especially since there's none of that boring sewing and embroidery of the English Court. What are you most excited to experience?"
Her smile lit up her face, and her voice grew bubbly. "I'm not sure. I think the tapas and wine will be amazing, but if I were honest, the flamenco dancing sounds like so much fun. I might even teach you some moves later."
His chuckle rang out. "I'd like to see you try. You know I hate dancing. But you..." He paused as he reached over and pulled his wife into his lap. She went willingly and wrapped her arms around his neck. He finished his sentence. "You have dancing skills. However, I think we should definitely visit the idea of moves later. We can do some moves together, a special kind of dance." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she rubbed her nose with his. Then they enjoyed a morning kiss before he had to leave for the meeting with the Emperor.
Secretary Los Cobos met Charles on the stair landing at the requested time. On their walk to the Emperor's private sitting room, the older man told him, "His Majesty is looking forward to meeting with you. When King Henry requested the conclave for a stronger alliance, he wasn't at all sure what to think. He seemed to be displeased, if not put out. His countenance changed once the letter announced that you and the Princess would be coming on the King's behalf. I think you'll find the Imperator amenable and eager to deal with you."
That gives Charles pause. The Emperor is eager to deal with him, but not with Henry. It only highlights the suspicions that he shared with Mary earlier. The Secretary showed the Prince into the Emperor's private sitting room. Los Cobos bowed and left, leaving the chamber empty save for the two Royals. The Emperor and Prince sized each other up before shaking hands.
"May I offer you some drink?" the Emperor asked. His prominent chin was displayed, and His Majesty covered his legs in the Spanish-preferred hose. After His Highness agreed to a goblet, His Majesty poured another glass and brought it to him.
Charles accepted the goblet and sipped the wine. He remarked, "This is good." It's one of the darkest wines he's ever had.
The Emperor turned to the young Prince and studied him for a moment. His eyes crinkled in the corners. He posed a question. "What do you taste?"
The Prince swirled the wine around the glass and sniffed. He sipped the wine again and let it sit in his mouth, swishing it around before swallowing. The wine is heady but elegant. There's a lot of depth and power in this drink. "Hmm... Besides the deep grape, I taste raspberry, licorice, kirsch, and something floral. I can't quite place it." He tasted the wine again but still couldn't determine that floral quality.
The Emperor gave him a smile of approval. "Excellent, Your Highness. You do have a sense for the finer things in life."
Charles couldn't help but feel this statement a slight somehow. A subtle dig at his past lifestyle, marriage to two Princesses, and the succession of his titles. He kept his eyes trained on the Emperor, who moved to sit down with his wine glass on a plush red velvet chair. He stared at the wine in the golden goblet. "The floral note you taste are those of violets. This is a dark red wine made from tempranillo grapes in Castille. It's focused, balanced, elegant, but youthful. I like it. I'll give you a few bottles to take home with you. Life is too short to drink bad wine." He grinned as he swirled the drink around in his glass.
Raising his chalice, Charles declared, "I'll drink to that." He sipped it again. It gets better each time he drinks it.
Then His Majesty turned his attention from the wine to his guest. "Men are a lot like wine. Some turn sour, but the best of men improve with age. Those who improve can savor what life offers, not flitting about with restlessness, but enjoying it with deep contentment. I think you are like that."
The Prince raised an eyebrow in question. He's not sure what to think at this point. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
This question began a series of observations noted by the Emperor. "When I heard you had married my cousin, I was outraged. By birth, you hold no title, only through the peerage bestowed on you by the King. You are, without doubt, his favorite. You married his sister without repercussion, but we won't get into that. Then he had you marry his daughter, my Aunt's child. Who by birth is a Princess of England and an Infanta of Spain. You had no right to marry Mary, you of modest birth."
Charles felt the sting of humbleness at the man's comments. All he said is true. He is not a Prince by birth. His titles were given to him. He knows he shouldn't have married Henry's sister nor be married to Mary. Yet, here he is, the Prince of Wales. The ripples of spurning ran through him.
The Imperator continued his thoughts. "I was even further outraged by the King's demotion of my cousin in the title rank. But what I feel is unimportant, for she's since been restored to her rightful role. This brings me back around to you. Since marrying my cousin, you've proven yourself worthy of the titles you hold. I may not have seen it with my own eyes, but I have heard much about your direct transformation. You have gone from a rapscallion to one of the best upstanding men in the country. I have it on good authority that you no longer take mistresses or philander your way through women."
The Prince's heart beat fast, listening to his past sins drudged up. It's true. He was a vile offender of using women. All that has changed, and his past is just that- the past.
The Emperor bore his eyes into Charles, which was all His Highness could do to not squirm like a worm on a hook. "Now you're content and settled. You have improved with age. I admire that."
The older Royal rose after setting his wine glass on a small table beside the velvet chair. He walked over to a rectangular table and retrieved a few papers. Upon returning to the chair, he spoke again with his eyes still holding the Prince at attention.
"I also know that you come prepared to meet with me on behalf of your King. I find this amusing as Henry and I have no love lost between us. This meeting is the first time he has reached out to me in years, and he is sending you in his stead. I could find offense at that. The King of England will send a Prince with no Royal birth to meet with me, The Holy Roman Emperor. I could have turned the meeting down. But then what purpose would that serve?" He looked to Charles for a response but found there was none. Because as His Majesty said, what purpose would it serve to give one. There was no good answer that could defend King Henry at that moment. The Prince felt the weight of the meeting in his shoulders and tense muscles.
So, the Emperor kept talking. "I wanted to take this meeting for a couple of reasons, which we will get to in a moment. The question I present to you is, does The Holy Roman Emperor need an English alliance? Who needs who more?" His eyebrow raised in question. Again Charles can't refute anything. If ever turned on England, the Army of the Emperor alone could swallow Henry's in less than a day. These are words he will never utter out loud.
Then His Majesty brought forth some information that Charles had no idea he knew. The spindly man presented his findings, catching the Prince by surprise and making him have to improvise. "I understand that England as a whole is cash poor. We don't need to get into the reasons why the country is. Although between us, we know why. However, I know that while the country itself is cash poor, two regions are not. Any guess as to which two areas those might be?"
He knows but refuses to say. Instead, he raised his chin and wore a look of comprehension. The Emperor handed him a parchment full of numbers, estimations, and projections. "What you have there is the projected growth of your two territories, Wales and Suffolk. Before you think I obtained this information dishonestly, I can assure you I did not. It's a public record. Anyone can get the record of any region, but few never do. I have it because I have a proposal for you."
The man got up and poured himself another goblet of wine. Then he topped off Charles's drink, leaving the Prince to wonder what kind of proposition the man would offer. When the Emperor returned, he leaned forward in his chair and declared, "Everyone knows you are the future King of England just as my cousin is the future Queen. So I speak to you as leader to leader, Royal to Royal, King to the heir. What you and my cousin have done in Wales and Suffolk is nothing short of outstanding. While the rest of the country is broke, your areas continually have a surplus. A surplus the likes of which has not been seen before, one that's constantly in high digits— thousands upon thousands of dollars. I seek prosperity and stability for the future of England, Spain, and The Holy Roman Empire. I propose a trade agreement that will put Wales and Suffolk at the helm for years to come."
Digesting those words, Charles raked a hand through his hair and then down his face. He's too stunned for words.
While the Prince met with the Emperor, the Princess found an appreciation for wine. Once the private tour of the palace ended, the group of ladies was breathless. By far, everyone's favorite room had been the Porcelain Room.
It has walls and ceilings completely covered top to bottom with porcelain plates. They are attached to an internal wooden frame and assembled to hide their joints between fabric trimmings and porcelain imitation stems. When Edward Seymour's wife Anne asked, "Where does all this porcelain come from," everyone wanted to know the answer- even Mary. The Infanta told them it comes from the Orient. The beauty of the room is astonishing. Each lady came away with a greater appreciation of porcelain.
The ladies were given an hour's break before the midday tapas, and wine tasting began. Infanta Maria left the women in the gardens to direct the servants, putting together the next event. During this time, Mary made herself available to the group. She spoke with each lady individually: Anne Seymour, Charlotte Hargrove, Olivia Shively, Florence Bridgewater, and Agatha Arden. Naturally, she talked to Paisley and conversed with the noble's ladies in wait.
Mary must admit that as far as women go, this is the best group of women she's been around in a long time. She cannot find fault with any of them, even though she thought she might have with Anne Seymour. It's good to be pleasantly surprised and not deal with vapid, simpering idiots.
The hour passed quicker than expected. The Infanta came to guide the group to the midday event. They entered the palace from the back and were taken to a wing off the main floor. It's an open aired hallway with long tables and chairs set up. On the tables is place settings side by side, one for each lady, facing the view of the gardens. Beautiful Spanish floral arrangements featuring the pomegranate flower, bluebells, lantana, bougainvillea, and gazania served as centerpieces.
Infanta Maria introduced the Royal Sommelier and took her place in the middle of the table beside Princess Mary. The short, amicable, tanned man introduced himself and his job, which he is very proud of. His job as a sommelier is similar to the food taster, except he gets to taste the best part of the meal. Royal Sommelier Alfonso states, "If food is the embodiment of life, then the wine is its soul."
The mustached man led the cheerful group in wine tasting. With his thick Spanish accent, Alfonso started by going over some rules. "Ladies, foremost, this is supposed to be fun. So let loose and enjoy it. We're going to try many different kinds of wine. If you have questions, please feel free to ask. On the table, you will notice quills and parchment. This is for recording what you like and don't like. At the end of the tasting, you will get to choose a bottle of your favorite wine to take home."
Though unmannerly, the ladies squealed with delight. This brought a smile to the Infanta's sharp face and Alfonso's. Next, he went over wine etiquette. "Always hold your wine glass by the stem during a tasting." He demonstrated and explained why this is so. "Be observant with each glass. You should be able to see the color of each wine."
Next, he spoke about something uncouth- spitting. This was when Mr. Harris's voice echoed in the back of Mary's mind. Mr. Harris loathes spitting and considers it a big, Royal mistake. His words on the matter are, "Never ever spit in public. In fact, never spit, period. It's unrefined and unladylike."
However, Alfonso strutted in front of the tables and said, "Now ladies, I realize you are all refined, gentle women. Spitting in public is frowned upon, but it is OK to spit during a wine tasting. It is perfectly acceptable. You will not be shamed out of the palace. Beside each of you is a small spit bucket for your use." He held up his bucket.
The ladies laughed during Alfonso's spit talk and took notice of their pails. Finally, he explained what to do. "First, you will inhale the wine deeply. Let your sense of smell guide you. The aroma of wine is an experience like none other. Upon drinking the wine, swirl the liquid around in your mouth. Make sure it coats all the surfaces. You will pick up different notes of texture and flavor. Two essential things, and then we will begin. Do not be judgy on the first sip, ladies. We have at least three drinks before you write on the parchment. And most importantly, pace yourself. We are not getting drunk but sipping wine."
Between each type of wine, the tapas are served. Alfonso says this is a great palate cleanser. The first wine chosen for the tasting is a Sauvignon Blanc. Mary found this one to have a taste of golden apples, white florals, and something like a pastry cream. She thought it quite good. Shrimp skewers with pineapple salsa were served with the wine.
Then came a chardonnay. Alfonso asked one of the ladies to share the aromas. Lady Bridgewater shared her thoughts. "I believe I taste orange blossom, rose, and lime."
The kind man applauded her efforts. "Yes, Lady Bridgewater, you are correct. But I would like to add the flavors of peach, rose, and apples. A great balance of texture, acidity, and finish."
And so it went, more wines and tapas served along with the ladies writing their thoughts on paper. The wine order was a Mencia, which Alfonso says is the most delicate, light-bodied wine. This one Mary did not like as much. Served with it are pepperonata, arugula, and basil-tomato sugo.
Then a Grenache wine followed paired with chorizo, olives, and fresh paella. This is the Princess's favorite wine. She loved the taste of raspberry, blackberry, plum, and cinnamon.
The final drink, a sparkling Cava, all the ladies enjoyed. The sparkling bubbly taste of strawberries, cranberry, cherry, lemon, and rose was terrific. Delicious pineapple-coconut confiture with powdered sugar was served with it.
While the ladies ate and drank, Alfonso collected the names and wine wishes from each lady at the party. Mary chose the Grenache but told Alfonso she would also like to purchase a bottle of the Cava. Maria turned to the Princess and said, "You will do no such thing. You're our guest and family. You can have both." She thanked her cousin and enjoyed the rest of her tapas and Cava.
Once the wine tasting event ended, the ladies were escorted into the Royal ballroom. A lady in a red dress with a tiered, ruffled skirt wearing high-heeled shoes with flowers in her hair met them there. She introduced herself as Señora Rosabella, mistress of the dance.
The Infanta's younger sister, Infanta Juana, joined the group. Mary noticed the Princess wearing another low-cut dress that fit her ample bosom. The girl smiled a friendly fake smile, which Her Highness returned. Then her attention went back to Señora Rosabella, who said, "The essence of flamenco is the cante (song)."
The vibrant lady further noted, "The truly skilled flamenco performers regard the cante as a form of prayer. It's like the dancer communicates with both the audience and God. It's sacred to them." She gave a brief history of the dance before performing a solo dance for the group.
The guitarist and singer started, and Señora Rosabella began her dance. Her movements were precise with intricate hand and arm work. The clapping and percussive footwork were incredible. The ladies were enthralled and broke out into loud applause when she finished.
Paisley whispered, "I'll never be as rhythmic as that." Mary nodded in agreement for herself. There is no way she will ever be able to do that fancy footwork.
Then Señora Rosabella announced, "Ladies, I have a special surprise for you. You chose the right time to visit because the Emperor is hosting the Tomato and Flamenco Festival. It's always held on the third Saturday of August and is in honor of one of Spain's favorite foods and dances. There will also be a bull run, which you surely do not want to miss."
She took a sip from her water goblet, then finished speaking. "But as a surprise, each of you will accompany me in a dance for the festival. Each day we will practice, so you are ready. Today is Monday. That gives us five days which should be good enough. Don't worry. You will not be doing what I performed. Yours will be much easier."
The ladies began talking amongst themselves with enthusiasm in the air. Mary asked Paisley, "Do you think she would care if I stood in the back?"
Paisley shook her head. "No. Let's go." Taking her friend by the hand, she led them to the back of the group.
At that moment, Señora Rosabella began passing out fans to everyone. When Mary received hers, she opened it and began fanning herself. So did Paisley. Once Señora passed them out, she explained, "We will be using these fans as part of the dance. It's a straightforward dance, ladies."
Then she described the fan usage. "The Spanish fan exudes romance and passion. They come in all types of colors, sizes, and adornments. Anything from lace to feathers." She took the fan and snapped it open with her wrist. "The fan is also a way to communicate without words. Some of the common ways to speak with the fan are this..."
She mimicked some fan language like short, fast sweeps across the chest mean I'm unavailable to you. But slow, seductive sweeps across the chest mean I'm available. Mary and Paisley giggled at the open fan covering the mouth with smoldering come hither eyes telling I'm blowing you a kiss. Then the two practiced the fan covering the face while talking to each other. All in all, they were interested in this fan usage.
After the fan explanation, Señora began lining the ladies up and teaching the simple fan dance. She started working on the hand movements with the fan. As she said, it was easy enough that all the ladies could learn it quickly. When the class finished, Señora told them, "We will meet again tomorrow, ladies. The same time, the same place. Remember to bring your fans. Have a wonderful evening!"
When the women exited, they were laughing and enjoying themselves. Almost every lady expressed thanks and delight to Mary for being able to accompany her and the Prince. Anne Seymour said it best, "I don't think I've ever been on a trip where the visiting ladies were treated so nicely. I've learned more in one day here than anywhere else."
Then she said something that made Mary make a mental note. "I wish England did more for the visiting ladies of other countries instead of sewing circles or doing nothing at all." The Princess vowed to think on this more. The potential surrounding this notion is vast and untapped.
Upon returning to the visitor suites, Mary and Paisley checked on the children. They had a busy day playing in the garden. Once inside her own room, Mary saw Charles sitting in a chair reading. He looked up and smiled.
Getting up, he went to his wife and leaned in for a kiss. Her fan snapped open in front of her mouth, blocking his lips. She smiled behind the fan and batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. He loves this playful side of his wife and asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm blowing you a kiss with my fan, of course," she informed him. Then she closed her fan and gave it to him. "That means I'm yours." He accepted it with a smirk and gave her a peck.
They sat together on the quilted sofa, where he inquired about her day. Mary told him everything from the palace tour to the delicious tapas and wine tasting, ending with the flamenco fan dance. She even told him how the ladies would dance at the Saturday festival. Charles raised his eyebrows in question. She poked her finger on his arm. "Well, we are, and it will be fun, even if I can't dance a lick of flamenco. Just don't laugh at me."
He chuckled and said, "I cannot promise that, but I can promise that I would never laugh at you personally. Now I can't wait to see this fan dance. If anything near the level of the grotesque grouse then it will prove amusing."
She huffed out a breath, swatted him with her fan, and asked how his day went. He explained the meeting with the Emperor and his proposal. "He wants to extend trade with Wales and Suffolk since we're where the country's majority of finance comes from. He doesn't trust Henry, as he's been double-crossed by him before. But he does trust us and extends us an olive branch for future ties when Henry passes the crown to you."
Mary sat there stunned. "So what now?"
Charles took her hand and kissed it. "Now we enter negotiations."