Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors.

Face claim for Clarice de' Medici - Synnøve Karlsen.

Chapter One Hundred & Two: A Sign of Things to Come.

1st of May 1536 - Château de Fontainebleau, France

Clutching at her wine glass, Catherine de Medici stared at her husband from across the room as he danced with his mistress in plain view of everyone around them. A smile on his face as if he didn't have a care in the world, happy to ignore his wife with any woman that deemed to cross his path while he moved around the banquet hall.

Tonight was just another night of celebration that His Majesty was throwing to celebrate the glorious win that France had against the Spanish dogs that had plagued them for many years. Her stomach twisted thinking of her brother, who had been buried in the Chapel of San Lorenzo along with many of their ancestors; his death brought about by many of those who were seated around her.

He had been in her prayers often, her one true supporter in this mess and now he was gone; there was no one that she could turn to, to mourn the loss of her brother lest she be thought of as a traitor. Closing her eyes, Catherine took a moment to compose herself and push away the negative feelings that welled inside of her; she would not allow these people to see her cry especially now.

There was no ignoring the whispers that plagued her now, the looks at her ever flat belly when news circled the court that King Francis has spent many a night in the Queen's chambers and it was likely she was with child again. Jealously filled her at the fact that she couldn't even entice her own husband to her bed, she'd made suggestion of it one night and he'd laughed in her face.

Henri had sneered at her after, asking why she thought he'd ever wish to enter her bed chambers when he had the pick of the ladies at court. Diane had watched her from her place, seated on Henri's lap as if she'd made her hasty exit unable to bear the humiliation that had came at the hand of the man that was meant to love, honour and protect her.

A silence fell over the gathering as King Francis got to his feet, a smile on his face as he looked around his most loyal subjects and knew that this was just the beginning of the golden age that he was ushering in to France. There was much to be celebrated and many announcements that he had to make this evening that would be cause for further celebration in the days to come.

"It is with great pride that I announce that my son, Francis, Duke of Brittany and Dauphin of France is to be married to Maria of Portugal," King Francis announced, the talks had been long winded but it had been worth it in the end. It had been hard to choose a perfect candidate for his son, he wanted the best for his eldest son and heir; a wife that would certainly not cause issues to the alliance and bringing Portugal into the fold seemed like an excellent idea.

The girl was only four years the Dauphin's junior and well educated at the hands of her aunt Catherine who was the Queen of Portugal now. It was also a small way to make amends to his former Queen, Eleanor had been shamed in his marriage to him and he had not treated her well during her time as Queen of France. Perhaps by making her daughter a Queen he could make his own amends for how he had treated her during their short marriage.

Afterall it had not been his fault nor hers that they had been forced to marry by her brother, a man that was no longer a threat to Valois rule and one that was long since laid to rest by the time the marriage talks had begun. There were cheers at the news that finally the Dauphin would be wed, it was high time that the eldest son of their great king was married and started having children of his own.

"It is also with the greatest joy that I announce that Queen Elisabeth is with child again," King Francis continued offering out his hand to his wife, he smiled down at his wife who was seated by his side. It was joyous news that she was pregnant again, the midwife confirming their suspicions and it would be in the new year that Prince Aubert would be joined in the royal nursery by a sibling. It would certainly make up for the loss of his older siblings, Charles would not return to France while Madeleine would be off to Scotland in the coming months to marry the Scottish King.

Catherine felt the colour drain from her face as she stared at the King, the words from his mouth making the food in her mouth turn to ash as she stared at him in horror. Not only did the constant comparisons with the Queen make her stomach turn, especially given how easy pregnancy came to Elisabeth but now she had another contender for the throne. If the Duke of Brittany was married off successfully and produced an heir then her Henri could never be King, she'd thought that she'd have more time than this to go through with her plan.

Clutching at her wine goblet, Catherine tried to wash down the food in her mouth; her eyes moving to focus on the rather handsome Duke. There was no denying that the Dauphin was a catch, he was eighteen and looked rather like his father; more so than Henri did, who was three years younger than his brother who was seated in his way of the throne. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the goblet in her hand, she was destined to be Queen; her mystics told her so, she was so close to the throne that she could almost taste it.

Finishing off the wine, Catherine slammed the empty goblet into the table and got to her feet; a sour look upon her face as she rose and moved to leave the table. There was much to be planned and she'd have to act fast, she could not allow Francis to consummated his impending marriage to Maria; she would not allow anyone to steal her fate from her when she only had to reach out and take it. It was through her that the line of Valois would rise, her sons would be Kings; ones that would take the House of Valois even higher than it was now.

They'd make even grander matches that those of her husband's siblings, she would ensure that they were raised right and people would remember that the unwanted Duchess of Orleans had been the matriarch that had shamed the fate of the french throne. Ignoring the sound of celebrations around her as she left the banquet, Catherine swore to herself that she would make her own place in history and no one would ever look down on her again.

1st of May 1536 - Convent of Las Descalzas Reales, Madrid

Not even three weeks after the death of Queen Joanna and her private burial, Dowager Queen Isabella found herself preparing to birth what would be her final child; it seemed like only yesterday that she had found out that she was expecting. She had sworn before God himself that there would be no other man for her, she would remain loyal to her husband even after his death and she intended to keep that promise.

It had been part of the reason that she had returned to this place, the place where her beloved had been called into God's arms to birth their child; to replace the sadness of his death with the joy of birthing their final child. Isabella hadn't been able to bring herself to enter the chambers that Charles had died in, she'd avoided them like the plague instead focusing on her continued plans to strengthen the Spanish realms after everything that they had suffered. Her heart was heavily with grief as she stared into the flames of the fire place, losing her beloved Carlos and his mother in such a short time frame had saddened her and she was greatly relieved that Eleanor had remained with her during this time which had proven to be a much needed support for her.

Isabella gritted her teeth as the midwife instructed her to push, she clutched at her ladies hands as she bared down trying to expel the child that she had carried all these months. It was time for them to enter the world and Isabella knew that she had to fight with everything that she had; she had to protect her son's throne, Philip was still but a child and she intended to guide him well.

Caution him against the anger of humiliation that stained many at court who wished to seek vengeance against those who they thought had wronged them. The realm couldn't afford more war. Charles had left the Spanish realms in great debt and Isabella knew that they could not afford to fight anymore. Finally after what felt like an ages, her baby was born and the midwife swiftly moved to collect the healthy newborn and place him in Isabella's arms for the first time.

"Charles… he shall be named for his father," Isabella announced proudly, staring down at the little piece of Charles that she had been left with that she could call her own.

I recommend Bed of Deceit by BellalunaMcKenzie, For Even as Love Crowns You by wizardfantasy and Sanctuary by Cattyfan. Also check out My Lord Husband,The Enemy by Esme24, That Subtle Wreath by EvilFluffyBiteyThing and its sequel, A Progress in Kent.

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