November 29, 1531

Manor of the More in Hertfordshire

The air was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of their tumultuous history pressing down on them both. They just stood like that, none of them said a word. They both struggled with thķe words they had rehearsed in their minds a thousand times, but now seemed impossible to say.

Henry couldn't take it anymore, he cleared his throat and began, "Nice to see you Catherine." His words, while polite, only delayed the inevitable. The urgency in his voice was clear.

"Not as much as it's my pleasure. Would you like me to make the tea?" His wife had a polite and gentle smile on her face. But the slightly clenched hands betrayed her, revealing concern.

"that would be wonderful"

As the maids prepared their service, Henry glanced at his wife. It looks like she gained weight, and the wrinkles only emphasized her age even more. However, there was something there, the look in her eyes, which he had not seen since the first days of their marriage, gave her a certain beauty.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you so soon. But your presence warms my heart." she said, her voice composed with a hint of tenderness.

"How could I not come? When did I hear such joyful news?" Catherine looked relieved at his words. Henry didn't know the reason for that, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it.

"Indeed, God has chosen to bless us with a wonderful gift."

"Unexpected if I may say so, but strange are the ways of the Lord."

Henry really doesn't understand him occasionally. He thought God was punishing him for taking his brother's widow, all just to finally give him a healthy son. Could it be that all these years were actually a test of his faith? Not once did the King of England think about the fact that he was mistaken.

Catherine just smiled and took a sip of her tea. At that moment, Henry noticed her necklace. A necklace in the shape of a heart with their initials, the same one he had given in honor of their wedding. The necklace awakened in him many memories of their youth and beginnings. In addition to memories, it also awakened discomfort.

When did things go downhill for them? Even as he asked, he knew the answer. It was the children, or the lack thereof. Especially the issue of heirs, which was miraculously resolved.

"I want to see him." He has to make sure that this is all true.

"Sure," Catherine said and stood up. The two walked until they stopped at a wooden door. She paused and looked into his eyes, her anticipation tinged with uneasiness. Henry nodded to encourage her to continue.

The room was in soft colors and well heated. Just by looking at it, anyone could tell that it was decorated with great care. There were 2 maids in the room next to the cradle.

The maids bowed and discreetly left the room at a sign from the Queen of England. Before he even realized what he was doing, Henry found himself in front of the cradle.

The baby was small, with fair skin and a tuft of golden hair. Wrapped in white. To be honest, he was ugly, like all newborn babies, but that didn't stop the immense love in Henry's heart. He picked it up in his hands and held it gently. Afraid he might break it. The gentle breath on his skin felt wonderful.

He smiled and proudly declared, "My son will be a wonderful king one day! But he needs a name worthy of him. Henry!"

Catherine froze at the last part. She looked really uncomfortable, as if expecting a rebuke. Which was strange for her, who is normally proud and dignified. He looked at her confused and signaled for her to continue.

"Actually I already named him, love. He's Arthur…."

.

.

.

"Ha!?" He felt perplexed, he had no idea what to think about this. She named him without him. And the name of his late brother, her ex-husband!

Before he could even say anything. He felt the touch of skin on his face. Arthur placed his little hand on his cheek. Now that Henry looks at him, the name somehow suits him. Guess he'll have to live with it.

--

Arthur sulked, and no, it wasn't because his sleep had just been interrupted. Already because of his unsuccessful shot attempt.

His mother's entrance into the room woke him up, and her presence alone had the extraordinary ability to dispel his bad mood. But she wasn't alone, a tall man in Arthur's estimation, in his late thirties or early forties, was walking beside her.

The man had an imposing appearance, with broad shoulders and a slender build that hinted at athleticism. His chestnut hair fell to his neck and his eyes were dark blue, almost black. But what caught Arthur's attention more than his appearance was his choice of clothing. In Arthur's eyes, it was expensive, gaudy, impractical, and disgusting, a combination that indicated the man's elevated social status.

If the extravagant clothing wasn't enough of a sign, the way everyone in the room treated the man gave the Former King of Britain a pretty accurate idea of the man's identity.

This must be his father. Way to ruin his day. He tried not to create a negative image in his head of a man he didn't even recognize, but he didn't succeed.

Maybe because he was raised by Sir Ector and Merlin, but he felt quite a dislike for his father. He did not like him because he had done many things, which Arthur considered shameful for a king.

That was the main reason. However, there is something deeper. Arthur never had a person he could call his mother. This is probably the reason he became so attached to Catherine in such a short time.

Merlin and Sir Ector were more than guardians; they were his fathers in every sense. They nurtured him, infused him with wisdom and provided unwavering support. They were people he looked up to, more Ector in that regard. As much as he loves Merlin, his teacher was sometimes a bigger kid than him. He didn't feel the need for another father figure.

While he was engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't notice that Henry was holding him. Until he tried to name him. He felt annoyed at the name he tried to give him.

Creativity was lacking. And he's the type of person who proudly sticks to his name, thank you very much.

His anger only increased when he noticed his mother's attitude. She had no reason to feel guilty. However, his father's reaction pushed him over the edge.

He punched Henry in the face. Okay, he attempted to hit him, let him know his displeasure. But with a baby's body it came out more like a gentle touch. He pouted, today is clearly not his day.

(Let it be known that Arthur is the only person who got away with "hitting" and insulting Henry)

--

Catherine looked at her son, who was lying in Henry's arms, with a mixture of confusion and relief. She was glad that Henry had accepted the name she had chosen for Arthur, and it filled her heart with happiness. And yet, a mother's intuition, or perhaps just a profound understanding of her newborn child, led her to believe that there was more to Arthur's grumpiness than met the eye.

It was a strange thought. Arthur is not even a week old, how could he be sulking? But then again, it made perfect sense to the mother.

Seeing Arthur's growing discomfort at being in Henry's arms. Catherine spoke to help him.

"Henry, Arthur needs to go to bed."

"Ohh, yes of course" he said as if waking from a trance and gently lowered their son back into the cradle. Then he cleared his throat and said in a voice full of enthusiasm.

"This is truly the best news that has happened in England for years! I am planning to make a big celebration for his baptism! All the bells in England will ring and wine and food will be distributed in the streets. We will have parties and balls in his honor for a whole month. "

Wait, how much is all that going to cost? No, she should be happy about this. As, this will let everyone know that Henry wants Arthur as his heir. And solve all the questions about Mary's legitimacy. This is a good thing, although there is a good chance they will take a small financial hit.

"What about Mary?" she asked, hoping for a considerate response.

"Oh, yes Mary! How could I forget? She will be godmother at the christening. We must have the most gorgeous dress designed for her. She will be the most beautiful presence there!"

This is not the answer Catherine was expecting, but she will accept it. However, there was one question that was bothering her. What about the church? Henry declared himself head of the Church of England, although nothing has yet been established. Currently, neither Catholicism nor Protestantism dominates in England.

Arthur's birth should bring Henry back to the true path of Catholicism. And get rid of this heretical church. Although, Henry may not think so. What if he still believes that he is the true head of the church. She had to understand his intentions.

"So, what about the church?" she asked, not knowing what answer she expected.

Henry looked confused and annoyed.

"Why spoil this beautiful day with such things? We'll talk about that some other time."

As someone who was married to Henry for 20 years, she can safely say that Henry himself doesn't know what to do with it and doesn't want to talk. Apparently, he wants to ignore the question in favor of celebrating and his pride. Now, Catherine knew that if she insisted on this topic, Henry would get even angrier and leave.

"You're right, it would be such a shame to think about it now. Shall we have another drink while you tell me about your baptism plans?" she said. Knowing well how to appease Henry.

"Let's do so." he agreed.

They both talked about it until it was time for the King of England to return to London.

--

Mary's hands were shaking as she held the envelope, her mother's familiar handwriting staring back at her. It's been so long since the last letter. Although their father did not forbid them to write to each other, it was obvious that he did not approve.

She carefully opened the envelope, her heart pounding anticipating its contents. What was she hoping for? Words of comfort, reassurance that everything will be alright, or maybe the news that her father has finally gotten rid of that woman?

"My dearest daughter," it began. Mother's words were warm and full of love. She couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep connection with her mother, even at a distance.

The next part surprised her, Mary did not expect this at all! She read the words several times, as if to confirm their reality. The words remained the same, "I am writing to you with joy in my heart because I have been blessed with the most precious gift from the Lord – a healthy son."

She is the older sister ... ... ... ... She has a brother. It was a strange thought that filled her with happiness and curiosity. Brothers are the ones who protect sisters. However, Mary already understood it as a personal duty to protect him. Oh, and teach him! Mary will make sure her brother is not seduced by a woman like their father. (Why do I have a feeling that Mary and Arthur will be troublesome siblings who keep giving Henry trouble? Ah yes, I'm writing this!)

With joy at the thought of all the things they would do together, Mary moved on to the next paragraph. Her mother's gentle and encouraging words made her bury her face in the pillow as she tossed and turned in bed like a squirrel. Not exactly ladylike or refined behavior, but at that moment Mary couldn't care less. After all, no one was there to watch her.

When her excitement subsided somewhat, she continued reading. Words about the unity and survival of their family have never been as convincing as they are today. Ever since the divorce was first brought up, everyone who supported her mother told her that her father would come to his senses. And Mary wanted to believe them, every day assuring herself that all this was temporary, but deep down she felt fear and doubt.

And when her father banished her mother from the court, all those beliefs sounded more and more false every day. It rings true today. She knew it was only a matter of time.

In her last words, her mother reminds her of her faith. Which is very useful because she completely forgot about mass. Oops. Now, Mary is a big Catholic, but she's also a teenager who just got a letter.

Mary stormed out of the room, praying she wouldn't be late for mass, completely forgetting to write an answer to the letter.

--

My dearest daughter

I hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits, my sweet daughter. I long to hold you in my arms and look into your beautiful eyes once more. The pain in my heart because of our parting is immeasurable, but I believe that our love and faith will keep us strong.

I am writing to you with joy in my heart because I have been blessed with the most precious gift from the Lord—a healthy son. My greatest hope is that you will welcome him as a brother and protector because I have no doubt that you will love him very much.

Although our circumstances may seem uncertain, please know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. You are my beacon of hope, Mary, and I believe in the bond that binds us together. You have always been a source of strength and courage for me, and I am immensely proud of the woman you are becoming. Your grace, your resilience, they are evidence of the blood that runs through your veins, a bloodline that traces its roots to noble and righteous kings and queens.

As for your father, I hope he will see through and recognize the importance of our family unity. You are his oldest child, and my heart tells me that he cannot remain blind to the truth forever. I pray that one day we will all be together as a family, strong and unbreakable.

Until that blessed day comes, please take care, my dear daughter. Be strong and steadfast in your faith because the Lord watches over us, even in our trials.

Your loving mother,

Queen Catherine