The Golden Years

by melanietudor312

With Henry VIII now dead and his son,Henry IX now on the throne, how will the Tudor Family live through the Golden Years? (Sequel to A Change For The Better)

46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Here's Chapter 46 and I hope you all enjoy it. The year 1556 will be cut between this chapter and the next and it will be uploaded more quickly. I hope you all enjoy Chapter 46.

3 January 1556
Hatfield, Hertfordshire, England
Hatfield House

Lady Katherine Grey was walking in the corridors of the estate that was now shared by Prince Owen, Princess Eleanor and Princess Margaret. As apart of Princess Eleanor's household, Lady Katherine had tended to her most of the day. However, Lady Katherine also had time to herself and when she did, she was in the company of a certain gentleman.

As Katherine walked reading her book, a pair of hands came across her face and hid her eyes.

She smiled.

"Robert, I really want to finish this book." she said.

Robert turned Katherine around and smiled at her.

"You know me too well. Am I really that predictable?" he asked.

Katherine smiled.

"As the Sun rising in the east." she said.

Robert looked into the eyes of this young woman he had grown to love and care about in the last five months, since their initial meeting in the stables.

Robert and Katherine closed the space between them with a kiss. It grew from an innocent peck, to Katherine being against the wall and Robert hands roaming over her breasts.

Finally, Katherine stopped them, before they got carried away.

"Robert..." she began.

Robert stopped her.

"I know, Kate. We can't do that. I just can't help it sometimes. I really love you." he said.

Katherine looked at him, in surprise.

"You love me? Truly?" she asked.

Robert nodded his head.

"Yes and I'm going to ask your mother if I may properly court you." he said.

Katherine looked at Robert in disbelief.

"Robert, my mother would never agree to that. I'm not even sixteen years old yet." she said.

Robert sighed.

"You will be sixteen this August. I know you want to marry me as well." he said.

Katherine sighed.

"Of course I do, I just think my mother would never allow it now." she said.

Suddenly a voice behind them said:

"You clearly do not know your mother as well as you think."

The two lovers turned around and standing before them was Lady Catherine Stokes, Katherine's mother.

Katherine walked closer.

"Hello, Mother. I wasn't expecting you to visit." she said.

Lady Catherine nodded.

"I see that. Are you in love with this young man?" she asked.

Katherine looked back at Robert and then back at her mother.

"Yes, Mother. I love him so much." she said.

Lady Catherine smiled and looked at Robert Dudley.

"You have my permission to Court my daughter." she said.

Katherine looked at her mother, in shock and asked her what made her come to this decision.

Lady Catherine sighed.

"Katie, you will be marrying for love. I didn't have that with your father. I want better for you and your sisters." she said, as she pulled her fifteen year old daughter into an embrace.

Lady Katherine smiled, as she hugged her mother. She hoped that one day soon she would be Lady Katherine Grey -Dudley.

---

19 January 1556
France

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, Prince Francis, Dauphin of France," the herald announced as the doors to the ball room swung open and revealed the twelve-year-old heir to the French throne. The guests all applauded and bowed to their heir as he made his way to the thrones where his parents sat watching his every movement.

He bowed to his father and mother, as he had been taught to do from the earliest he could remember and greeted them, "Your majesties."

"Happy birthday Francis," his father, King Henri, said, smiling at his son. His mother rose and hugged him. Queen Catherine was not someone that any person in France wanted to cross, but it was clear, always, that she loved her children fiercely. Francis was her golden child; the long-awaited heir that the first ten years of her marriage to Henri waited for desperately. She saw the future when she looked at her young son and was proud of the man he was becoming.

"Your attention please," King Henri said loudly, as the guests turned to listen to their King. "It is with great pleasure that at this celebration of our son and heir's birth that Queen Catherine and I announce his betrothal to the Princess Joanna of Portugal." The guests all applauded as Francis looked at his mother, who smiled stiffly at him, showing her displeasure at his father's choice of bride. "The Princess will be arriving here at French court in four years, and they will marry once she has turned sixteen. She is said to be of great intelligence and compassion, both of which will make her a wonderful future Queen of France. We wish them all of the happiness in the world." The guests applauded once more, and King Henri waved his hand at the musicians for the dancing to resume.

"My lady Mother," Francis said, "would you honor me with a dance?"

"Of course, my son," Catherine said, and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

"Portugal?" he questioned, once they were out of his father's earshot.

"Yes," she replied, "for now at least. I don't like it, Francis. I would have preferred an Italian bride for you, my darling boy, but your father… well, you know how he is."

Francis nodded. "I suppose Portuguese will have to be added to my lessons now." Francis was not fond of languages. History was his favorite subject. He loved studying about events that occurred before his birth, but mostly he liked battles and knights, with a little politics thrown into the mix.

"Probably," she said, "but if I have my way, it won't be for long."

"If not Portugal, then who will I marry? Father will want my wife to be a princess, rather than a noble's daughter," Francis countered, knowing his father would want a wealthy bride for his heir.

"I do not know for certain, Francis, but Portugal is an ally of Spain with Queen Mary being the sister of Queen Elizabeth of Navarre," Catherine reasoned. "and since Queen Elizabeth is also the wife of the Prince of Asturias, she will one day be Queen of a united Spain. Your father may or may not come to realize this on his own, but if he doesn't, I will be sure to remind him."

Francis nodded again as the dance concluded, and he bowed to his mother, before turning his attention to his guests. Francis danced with the daughters of several of his father's councilmen, to appease them, but he secretly hated these parties and would have preferred to be anywhere but in the ballroom at this point. He decided that when he was King, there would be fewer court gatherings so he would not have to deal with this as often and never again on his birthday.

---

20 January 1556
Navarre

Queen Elizabeth was in her study, looking over some papers for the next council meeting, when the doors swung open and Lady Jeanne entered the room. She curtsied to her Queen, then made her way to Elizabeth's desk. Over the past year, Lady Jeanne had become one of her loyal ladies and was pleased to serve Elizabeth as such.

"You're Majesty," Lady Jeanne began, laying a letter on the desk, "this just arrived for you from King Charles of Spain."

Elizabeth took the letter and opened it. After a few moments, she looked up and asked Jeanne to find her husband, King Luis. Lady Jeanne turned to leave the room after curtseying once more but had to catch herself on the chair that was near her, as the room continued to spin. Elizabeth looked up at her lady and smiled.

"Are you okay Lady Jeanne?" Elizabeth asked out of concern. This was the second time in two days that Jeanne appeared to lose her balance.

"Yes, your Majesty," she responded. "I've just been out of sorts of late."

"Perhaps you should take the rest of the day and take it easy," Elizabeth suggested.

"No, I'm sure there's no need for that, your Majesty," Jeanne replied. The doors to Elizabeth's study once again opened, revealing her maid bringing in her lunch tray. The aromas were pleasing to Elizabeth, who was starving after not having had much for breakfast that morning, but Jeanne looked positively green from the smell.

"Jeanne," Elizabeth began, but was cut off when Jeanne held up her hand and rushed out of the room. Elizabeth wondered what was going on, but her questions were answered when Jeanne returned moments later with her apologies.

"I don't know what came over me your Grace," Jeanne said. "I am not usually the type to be nauseous."

Elizabeth smiled. Jeanne had been married for a year and a half, and it occurred to Elizabeth that the younger woman might not realize that she could be pregnant, as she and her mother had been separated long before Jeanne had married.

"Lady Jeanne," Elizabeth said, "I want you to go lay down in your rooms here at the palace. I am going to send for our physician to look at you."

"Please don't trouble yourself, your Majesty. There's no need to make a fuss," Jeanne stubbornly tried to get her mistress to change her mind.

"Lady Jeanne, you may not realize this because of your age," Elizabeth said, "but I think you might be with child and I want the physician to confirm it."

Jeanne looked at Elizabeth as if she'd just said the moon was made of cheese. She'd never stopped to consider that a baby could be the cause of her issues. Could she really be carrying Alexandre's child?

"Yes, your Majesty," Jeanne said, no longer arguing about the matter. She went to her rooms to lay down as she was asked.

After making sure Jeanne was returning to her rooms, Elizabeth asked one of her guards to summon Alexandre, who she knew was in the library of the palace, looking over some political writings concerning the government of estates. She asked another to fetch the court physician and send the man to Lady Jeanne's rooms. The physician, who was also in the palace, caring for one of the children that had been orphaned by the war and was currently a ward of the crown, went immediately do to as Elizabeth had bid him. Alexandre arrived in her study moments later, bowing to his Queen.

"You asked to see me, your Majesty?"

"Yes, Alexandre," Elizabeth said. "I just sent your wife to lay down and sent our physician to look her over. I thought you might want to know?"

"Is Jeanne alright?"

"I don't know for certain," Elizabeth told him. "That's why I sent for the physician."

Alexandre nodded. "May I wait here for his conclusion?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said, continuing to look over the papers she had been reading before Lady Jeanne had become ill. Thirty minutes later, the physician entered the study and walked to where the Queen of Navarre and Lord Dumane sat. He bowed to Elizabeth.

"What is your diagnosis of my lady?" Elizabeth asked. The physician looked at Alexandre and smiled.

"The lady is two months gone with child, your Majesty," the physician told them both. "I have informed her of her condition and that she is to remain in bed for the day to rest. From what she told me, she is having an unusual amount of morning sickness, so she may need to enter her confinement early, and she will definitely need to be monitored more frequently for the next month to make sure she is getting the proper nourishment."

"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Alexandre, I think it would be best if you and Jeanne remain at the palace until the sickness has passed, then she can retire to your estate until the child is born."

"Yes, your Majesty. I will see to the arrangements myself," Alexandre said. "May I see her?" He asked the physician.

"Yes, but do make it brief," the older man replied. "I want her to rest."

Alexandre bolted out of the room, causing Elizabeth to laugh as he rarely broke protocol for any reason, but he had forgotten to bow before leaving this time. She was not vexed, though, but amused.

"Well," Elizabeth said, "it looks like I am down one lady for the time being, but I am pleased for them."

The physician nodded, bowed to the Queen, then took his leave, not realizing that upstairs, his patient was terrified of what lay before her, and that she had no one would she felt she could turn to for answers to her many questions.

---

2 February 1556
Cyprus

Princess Amadea of Cyprus was surrounded by trunks, and by her mother's ladies-in-waiting, who were assigned to help her in packing for her move to Imereti, the home of her betrothed, Crown Prince George Bagrationi. They were to marry in the summer months, once she had become better acquainted with her new homeland, and with the Prince and his daughter, Princess Mamia. At seventeen, the Amiee, as she was called by her family, was not sure she knew how to be a mother to the young three-year-old Princess, but that was the role her brother Janius, the King of Cyprus, had chosen for her. At least the trading alliance that their marriage formed between Cyprus and Imereti would ensure that there would be no attacks from the eastern European nation.

"Announcing her Grace, the Dowager Queen of Cyprus," Amadea heard her page say from the corridor outside her room, and she quickly straightened her dress. Although she was a Princess by birth, she was not above packing some of her own belongings. Her mother had raised her and her siblings to never take their servants for granted.

The doors to her chambers opened and her mother entered the room, looking around to see how the packing was going before hugging her eldest daughter. "Are you ready for the trip?" Dowager Queen Rebecca asked.

Amadea nodded uncertainly, causing her mother to clarify her question. "I meant are YOU ready, daughter? I am not concerned about your things."

"I think so, Lady Mother," she replied. "I just hope I can be a good wife to his Highness and a good step-mother to his daughter."

Rebecca nodded. "Being a mother, even a step-mother, can be a challenging task, Aimee, but you will succeed at this task. You have always been the more patient of my children, and you were always kind to your siblings."

"But what about teaching her things, like sewing and the like?"

"That will come in time. The girl is barely three, and although she is not of your body, you will be the only mother she ever knows," Rebecca reminded her.

"I know," Aimee said, "I still worry though."

"Of course," the Dowager Queen responded, "and you will find, with time, that the worry for this girl, as well as the children you will give him, will never diminish." She paused for a moment. "You are a grown woman Aimee. It doesn't stop my worry for you, or for your brother, though he is King in his own right now."

Outside her room, her page announced "His Majesty, King Janius."

The doors to her room opened once more, revealing her younger brother, the King of Cyprus, who walked into her rooms with the splendor their late father, King John III, had taught him. However, this façade did not fool Aimee or their mother, and once the doors closed, Janius lost the demeanor and sat down on top of one of her closed trunks.

"I came to tell you that your carriage is ready to take you to the ship," he said, looking at his sister.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied.

"I know I arranged this marriage for you Aimee, but I'm certain that his Highness will treat you with the utmost respect," her brother told her. "Before I signed the contracts, I made sure that his reputation was as honorable as I had been told."

Aimee could only nod and hope he was right. "I suppose I shouldn't keep the carriage waiting," she said, nodding to her footman, who turned to carry the trunk she was taking with her immediately. The rest of her things would follow on another ship. She quickly hugged her mother and brother, then after saying goodbye, she left the room and walked down to the waiting carriage.

As she stepped into the coach, she turned back towards the palace that had always been her home until now, knowing she may never see it again. She was surprised when she saw her brother, the King, looking out of her bedroom window at her. She waved, then entered the carriage, closing the door behind her, and it drove off to the port where the ship was waiting to take her to her future.

---

16 February 1556
Anhalt-Zerbst

Prince Karl paced back and forth outside of his wife's confinement chambers. They were unlike many royal couples, as they shared a bedroom normally, but when she had entered her eighth month of pregnancy, he had rooms set up for her to give birth in, as was custom in her religion, and because he was advised that it would be best for her to get as much rest as possible, focusing only on the task of delivering a healthy son. Karl was not concerned about the gender of his child though, only that the baby and his wife made it through the process with as little complication as possible.

Princess Juana had gone into labor in the early hours of the morning, and Karl realized that it was nearly nightfall when he looked out the window. He could only hope everything was going alright, as he could not hear anything from inside the rooms. He sat in a chair nearest the window overlooking the gardens of the home, then immediately stood up again. He was as anxious as any first-time father should be. Suddenly, the doors to his wife's chambers opened, and the midwife emerged, freshly washed.

"Well?" He asked.

She smiled at the Prince. "Congratulations, sire," the older woman said. "You have a healthy baby girl."

Karl grinned from ear to ear. A daughter! He was a father! "And my wife? The Princess?"

"Your wife is fine, though exhausted from her efforts. She did amazing and has a remarkable strength," the midwife said.

Karl handed the woman a purse of gold coins and thanked her for her services, then went into the room where his wife and newborn daughter were. He approached the bed slowly, until Juana looked up from the bundle in her arms and smiled at him. "Karl, come, meet our daughter," she said.

Karl made it to the bed in two steps and knelt beside her as she held the baby up slightly and pulled the blanket down a bit for him to see their child. Karl smiled softly at his little girl, reaching to gently touch her cheek with his finger. He couldn't believe how small she was, but he was already proud of her. . . proud of them both; his family.

"Have you named her, sweetheart?" He asked.

"No, not completely, but I do have a name in mind," his wife answered.

"What's that?"

"Mary," she replied. "I'd like to call her Mary.

Karl nodded. It was a strong name. "Mary it is then darling."

"Are you sure?" Juana asked. "I know you favored Christina."

"Yes," Karl told her without hesitation. "If you want our first daughter to be called Mary, then so it shall be. I am perfectly okay with it."

Juana smiled at him. Although their union was not originally a love match, she couldn't have asked for a better husband. Karl had no qualms with letting her know that he valued her as a partner in their marriage, not just as a woman to bear his heirs. She admired that about him. Most men wouldn't have thought twice about what their wives wanted, but he always asked her opinion on things. She knew she was respected.

She held their baby daughter out for him to take, and Karl held the infant gently in his arms. "Am I doing this right?" He asked.

"Yes," Juana said, "just be sure to support her head. She cannot hold it up yet on her own."

He cradled their little girl and said, "Welcome to the world Mary, and welcome to our family. Your Papa loves you very much." With that, he kissed her forehead and smiled.

---

17 February 1556
Imereti

The carriage stopped in front of an enormous palace. The gardens were filled with greenery and fountains, and the stone walls held a reddish tint that reflected the evening sun. Four guards were stationed at the entry way, standing tall and straight at their posts. An elderly gentleman stood in front of the guards with a younger man standing to his right. The occupants of the carriage gazed out at the sight of what was to be their new home with wonder.

Within moments, a footman had the door open and had placed a stool at the foot of the door for the young women to step on as they exited the carriage. Her ladies-in-waiting went first, as was custom, then the man held his hand out for the Princess who had travelled from so far away to become their future Queen Consort. It was then that Crown Prince George Bagrationi saw his bride-to-be for the first time in person. He was speechless as they announced her.

"Her royal Highness, Princess Amadea Poitiers of Cyprus," the herald said clearly. George stepped forward and bowed.

"Your Highness," he said, "I am your betrothed, the Crown Prince of Imereti. I want to welcome you to your new home."

Amadea curtsied to him as befitting his station. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace."

"The honor is mine, madam," he replied, kissing her hand, then tucking it into his arm and leading her to the elderly man he had stood beside. "Allow me to introduce you to my father, King Bagrat III."

Amadea curtsied once again, waiting to be recognized. The King looked her over and smiled widely at his future daughter-in-law. "Rise Princess," he commanded, "and welcome home."

Amadea did as he commanded, returning his smile. "My mother sends her greetings, Your Majesty, as does my brother, King Janius."

The older man gestured that they should go inside, then turned to lead the way, followed by his son and the Princess, then her household in order of rank.

"I will personally escort you to your rooms, Princess," George said, "then leave you to become acquainted with them and rest before dinner is served in two hours." Amadea nodded. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something cold about his tone. She did not know what it was, but she didn't think she had broken protocol. The ambassador from Imereti who had served as her tutor for the past two months had drilled her relentlessly on the ways of the court here. After a few moments, George stopped and opened two large doors that led to what would be her chambers.

The rooms were large and spacious, with a sitting room and study adjoining two bed chambers on either side. One of the bedrooms was for the Princess, and the other held four beds for her personal ladies. She had been told that only four would be allowed to remain with her as Crown Princess, though she would gain an additional four as Queen Consort.

"I will leave you to get settled and come for you in two hours," George said, then bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Once he was gone, Amadea walked towards the window slowly to glance out over her new home. "He's an odd one, isn't he?" She heard her best friend, Lady Elisabeth Sinclair, ask of the others.

"Perhaps it's just nerves at meeting our Princess," Lady Margaret Ross suggested.

Amadea turned towards them. "I think he still misses his late wife, ladies," she suggested. It was her way of telling them not to judge someone. They knew that Amadea was against this practice, though many ladies of the court in Cyprus gossiped. They nodded in understanding and began to unpack her things as she went to see her bedroom.

Two hours later, they were through with unpacking what she had brought with her when a knock came at her door accompanied by a voice announcing the return of Prince George. The doors opened and he entered the room. "Are you ready for dinner, your Highness?" He asked, offering the Princess his arm?

"Of course, your Grace," Aimee replied, taking it, and together the two walked to the dining hall of the palace. Aimee couldn't help but wonder if she would ever remember her way around without an escort present as they turned down another hallway that looked very much like the one they just left.

Once they had reached the doors of the dining hall, they were formally announced, then entered the room. George escorted her to the seat at his father's left side, then took his own place at his father's right. The three spent the hour discussing various things, though it was mostly George and his father talking. Aimee had been warned to only speak when addressed directly at formal gatherings, and she was not certain if this was formal or not, so she decided to play it safe for their first dinner together.

After dinner was over, George asked if she would like to join him in the gardens for a walk. She nodded, and they excused themselves. Outside, her betrothed was just as reserved, but he did tell her of his love for his nation as they walked through the garden paths.

"Do you think you could come to love Imereti as I do Amadea?" he asked.

Aimee looked at him softly. "What I have seen so far is lovely," she answered. "I have high hopes that I can, yes, your Grace, but please, call me Aimee. Everyone does and I prefer it."

"In private I will," he promised, "but we do not use nicknames in formal settings here."

Aimee nodded as his voice turned cold again. "Have I done something wrong, your Highness?"

George looked at her confused. "No, why do you ask?"

"It seems like you would rather be somewhere else than here right now," Aimee replied.

"Forgive me, Princess," he said, "Aimee. I'm not sure how much you know about me, but I lost my wife two years ago in childbirth. I am not ready to remarry, but you know how politics are and how the heir to the throne needs a family." He paused and looked up at the sky. "I want to get to know you and to love you, but it's too soon for that."

"I understand, your Grace," Aimee said. "We have all the time in the world to get to know each other, even if the wedding itself has to be sooner than we'd like. I am not entirely comfortable with the idea of marrying for politics alone either."

George looked at her for a moment. "Then perhaps we can start this marriage as friends and go from there, if that's agreeable to you?"

"What about the . . ." Aimee wasn't sure how to continue without offending him.

"The wedding night?" George finished for her, and she nodded. "Don't worry about that. Unlike some royal traditions, no one witnesses the consummation here."

Aimee was shocked. "So, we really don't have to rush anything?"

"No, Princess," he said, kissing her hand. "We don't."

Aimee smiled as he began to lead them back to the palace. She could feel his tension ease as they walked and that made her feel better too. The Prince escorted her to her rooms, wished her a good night, then left, closing the doors behind him. Aimee drifted off to sleep knowing that her feelings wouldn't be rushed, but understanding that somehow, they would have to eventually find a way to provide his kingdom with heirs. Hopefully that would come with love, but it would at least come with a friendship.

---

28 February 1556
Hampton Court
Queen Anne of England's Private Chambers

Queen Anne was sitting in one of her chairs with her ladies and her daughters, Princesses Eleanor and Margaret. Anne was so happy to have her children at Court. She knew they were leaving for their households soon, but she cherished every moment, especially since she knew she knew she and King Harry would never have another child together.

Five year old Princess Margaret walked up to her mother.

"Mother, Lady Mary helped me make this prayer cloth for you." the little girl said.

Queen Anne smiled at her youngest daughter and took the precious cloth from her. Anne loved her precious red-haired little girl, who looked alot like her older sister, Sybilla.

"Thank you, my love. " she said.

Lady Mary Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk, walked up to her Queen and smiled.

"The Princess Margaret is very good at embroidery, Your Majesty." she said.

Anne smiled weakly and nodded.

Princess Margaret climbed on to her mother's lap.

"Mother, tell me about when you married Father again." she said.

Thirteen year old Princess Eleanor walked up to her mother and sister and sat unceremoniously on the floor, indicating that she wanted to hear the story as well.

Queen Anne smiled.

"I met your father on New Years Day, twenty-five years ago. We were both a little older than Eleanor. We didn't speak the same language, but we grew to love each other. I love him so much." she said, with happiness on her face.

Eleanor opened her mouth to say something, but before she could say anything, her mother cried out in agony and grabbed her stomach.

Lady Mary Brandon grabbed Princess Margaret and turned to her sister, Lady Charlotte Howard.

"Lottie, fetch a physician!" she said.

Queen Anne lost consciousness, as her ladies surrounded her.

Later that evening...

King Harry was sitting by Anne's bedside, watching her side. He had a look of fear on his face. He grabbed her hand.

Suddenly Queen Anne opened her eyes.

"My love, you're here." she said.

Harry smiled.

"Of course. The physician has said you must remain in bed for one week. He doesn't know what is wrong with you." he said.

Queen Anne sighed.

"Harry...I've been having these pains for years. They started after Margaret was born. They just have been getting worse lately. It's almost constant and agonizing. Harry...I believe I am dying." she said, as tears filled her eyes.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I will not let you." he said.

Anne touched his hand.

"My love, you are the King of England. You are not above the will of God." she said.

Harry teared up. He could not imagine his life without his beloved Anne.

"Anne, don't leave me and our children." he said, almost begging.

Anne smiled.

"Let's leave it in God's hands. He'll heal me, whether it is here or in Heaven." she said.

Harry sighed and tried to compose himself. He refused to believe his wife could possibly be dying.

After several moments of holding her husband's hand, Queen Anne fell into a peaceful sleep. King Harry watched her sleep for a few minutes, before rising to leave.

As he left her Chambers, Harry looked at his wife. Then, decided to make his way to the chapel. He needed to be alone with God.

He opened the doors to the Chapel and he made his way to the altar and he knelt down and began to pray:

"God, this woman has been my wife for twenty-five years. She has given me six wonderful children. She has been pious and devoted to you. Why must she suffer like this? Please spare her. Do not take her from our children, From England...from me. I love her,Lord. Please do not part us. I beseech you.," he said, as he broke down in tears.

---

1 March 1556
Pembroke Castle, Pembrokshire, Wales
The Gardens

Lady Katherine Grey was sitting in the gardens, enjoying the nice country air. She had returned home to tend to her mother. Lady Catherine Grey-Stokes had discovered she was pregnant once again by her second husband in October 1555. However, in February 1556, Lady Catherine suffered a miscarriage at nearly four months gestation. The unborn child was another girl. Lady Katherine was sad for her mother's loss, but she also missed Court and more importantly, she missed her dear Robert. She was deeply in love with him.

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms enveloped her from behind.

"My sweet Lady. My eyes craved your presence and my arms craved your touch." a male's voice said.

Lady Katherine smiled, as she knew that the voice belonged to her Robert, or Robin as he liked to be called.

She held him by his arms.

"My sweet Robin, I have missed you so." she said.

Robert smiled and sat next to her.

"How is your mother?" he asked.

Lady Katherine smiled.

"She's getting better and stronger each passing day. The child was a girl and my mother wanted a son and heir" she said.

Robert sighed.

"I an glad your mother is healing. However, I needed to speak to you." he said.

Katherine stood up and looked at him, waiting for him to say what he had to say.

Robert took a deep breath.

"Kate, I love you with my entire heart. When you are away from me, I suffer. I cannot bear to be away from you any longer. I know I need your mother's permission, but I wanted to ask you first: Katherine Grey, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" he asked as he got on bended knee, not breaking contact with her.

Katherine began to cry.

"Of course, my sweet Robin. I'll marry you." she said.

Robert smiled and stood up and kissed her and swung her in his arms. They were finally going to be married. Nothing could ruin their happy future together.

---

15 March 1556
Portugal

The Duke of Braganza lay in his bed drifting in and out of consciousness. It had been like this for days, ever since he collapsed. The doctors could not tell what was wrong. The aged man had no fever, showed no signs of an infection of any type, but his health was waning daily.

The priest had been summoned and given him last rites in case he did not recover. His children were all notified, and his son and heir, John, had been called to his bedside. His second son, Jaime, was also present with his wife, Lady Beatriz. Only the Duke's two daughters were absent; one in Navarre with her husband, the Count of Candale, and the other at their country estate with her governess.

Teodosio opened his eyes and looked around him. He saw his sons talking in one corner of the room. "Jaime, John," he said weakly, "come to me." Both men, startled by their father's voice, immediately went to his bedside and knelt on either side of their father. "When I am summoned to your mother's side, John, you will become the Duke of Braganza. You must always take care of this family, as I have, as your grandfather did." John nodded, unable to speak. "See that your brother has a sufficient income and works at your side to secure the family's fortune, as I have taught you both."

"I will Father," John replied.

Teodosio turned to Jaime. "Jaime, you may not have a title, but you will have land. I am leaving you our country home where your sister now resides. See to it that she is looked after, and should she be of a mind to take the veil, she has my blessing. Joanna has always been devoted to God and I do not want anything to stop that devotion."

"Of course, Father," Jaime answered.

Teodosio coughed heavily for several minutes before regaining his breath. "Make sure your mother's jewels are sent to your sister, Lady Isabel in Navarre. It was her wish that Isabel have them, as they have passed from eldest daughter to eldest daughter for generations. Except for the emeralds that are in the box on my desk." He paused and turned to his eldest son, John. "Those are for your wife, son, as the new Duchess of Braganza." John nodded and looked down at the bed. Teodosio coughed again, and this time there was blood.

He laid back against his pillows and closed his eyes for a time. He never opened them again. Sometime around ten that night, John, the eldest surviving son of the late Infanta Beatriz, sister of King Carlos of Portugal, became the Duke of Braganza, and the family went into mourning for it's much beloved patriarch, who was now in the hands of God.

---

17 March 1556
Caserta Palace, Naples, Italy

King Alfonso of Naples was sitting with his mother, the Dowager Queen of Naples. He was worried about what was taking place. His beloved wife, Queen Adriana, had gone into labor that morning and now the sky was outside was pitch black. Several times he had heard her scream. This shouldn't have happened. When their sixth child, Princess Isabella, was born four years ago, the Queen was advised to not undergo anymore pregnancies. However, this pregnancy came as a surprise.

Dowager Queen Catalina walked up to her thirty-three year old son.

"Do not worry, mi hijo. Adriana is strong and she will deliver your child into this world and survive. She wouldn't leave you or your children." she said.

King Alfonso sighed.

"This is my fault, Mother. I stopped being careful. I thought after Isabella, there was small chance she could conceive. If she dies, her blood is on my hands." he said.

Catalina closed her eyes, in silent prayer. In her forty-nine years of life, she had seen tragedy. She didn't want this for her son and Naples couldn't lose its Queen.

Suddenly, there was a loud cry. Alfonso looked at his wife's bedroom doors.

The midwife walked out and smiled.

"It's a boy, Your Majesty! A healthy Prince!" she said.

King Alfonso smiled and crossed himself. Another son was a blessing to his brood of children.

He then remembered someone important.

"The Queen. How does she fare?" he asked.

The midwife smile brightened.

"Despite Princess Isabella's birth, the Queen delivered the Prince with much more easy. Everything went just fine." she said.

King Alfonso sighed in relief. His wife was just fine and he had a third healthy son. God truly blessed him.

The midwife stood aside, so her King could walk past her. In his wife's chamber, he saw the women all cleaning after the birth. The room was dimly lit, but he could still see just fine.

In the bed was Queen Adriana, holding her newborn soon. Although she was fresh out of childbirth, she looked healthy and alert..

The thirty-six year old Queen looked at her husband and smiled.

"Come say hello to your son, sweetheart." she said.

Alfonso sat beside her and looked at his son, who possessed the Trastamara Auburn hair and blue eyes.

He looked at his wife.

"Are we still agreed on the same name?" he asked.

Queen Adriana nodded her head.

"Yes I love it: Prince Rodrigo of Naples, our third son." she said.

---

12 April 1556
Navarre

Queen Elizabeth I of Navarre was sitting at her dressing table, waiting patiently for the ceremony to start. Normally, she would be in her confinement chamber, waiting the birth of her third child, but today, on the first anniversary of the late Queen Juana of Spain, she was expected to appear, especially since the ceremony was moved to her home in Navarre. She and her husband were being formally vested with the titles Prince and Princess of Girona. It would make them, as well as their children, the formal heirs to both Castile and Aragon, next in line to both thrones. It would mean the unification of the two nations once their son, the Infante Eduardo, came of age and they were both gone, possibly including Navarre in the mix, as he was already the heir in the country of his birth, despite being only a year old. A knock at the door to her chamber informed her that they were ready for her downstairs. Although she was expected to appear and participate in the ceremony, certain things had been altered given her current state, and she would not stay for the festivities that would follow.

She entered the state room, escorted by two guards and two midwives. The women were there in case the baby came too soon, and the guards were just for formalities at this point, as no one outside of the family was allowed to attend. Luis waited for her just inside the doors and offered her his arm, which she took, and they proceeded between the two rows of chairs that had been set up for their small gathering. They knelt at the base of their thrones and waited for Luis' grandfather and the priest to enter the room, which only took moments. As was customary, the priest blessed the proceedings and then offered a prayer, then the investment began.

"One year ago, to this day," Charles said, standing before the small gathering of family and trusted friends, "the world lost a much beloved monarch, my late mother, Queen Juana of Castile and Aragon." The audience crossed themselves silently. "With her passing, the two Kingdoms she ruled passed on to me, and today, we are here to formally invest my grandson, Luis, King Consort of Navarre, and his wife, Queen Elizabeth of Navarre, as heirs to the crown of Aragon. It seems fitting that we should do this on the day that my mother passed, as it was her greatest wish to see the two nations united solidly under one rule, as so it shall be when Luis becomes King of both nations on the day the Lord our God calls me to his side."

Charles turned his back to the audience and faced both Luis and Elizabeth. Beginning the ceremony, he placed the ring of the heir to Aragon on Luis' right index finger and the ceremonial robe around his shoulders. After taking the oath to serve and protect the Aragonese people, Luis stood and sat on his throne. Charles then turned to Elizabeth, "It has been a great many years since the kingdom of Aragon has had a Princess of Girona, but it does me proud to invest you, my granddaughter, as such, this day." He placed the ring, a gold circle with a golden rose on her right index finger and then placed a tiara of gold on her head. Elizabeth took the oath to support and care for the people of Aragon as they were her own, then Charles helped her stand and she sat beside her husband on her own throne. Normally, a procession would have taken place to show the people their new Crown Prince and Princess, but considering Elizabeth's condition, that was out of the question at the time.

Charles tuned to the people who had been invited to this private ceremony and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Aragon." The people applauded and the ceremony was over. "There will be a reception following in the Great Hall. Please, join us!" The people dispersed to do as commanded.

Luis stood and helped his wife to her feet, and they both approached Charles. "Grandfather, I will join the people in the Great Hall, but Elizabeth obviously cannot. She does, however, have something to discuss with you, if you don't mind delaying your entry?"

"Of course," Charles said and turned to Queen Elizabeth as Luis left the room.

"Grandfather," Elizabeth began, "I have had a letter from my brother, the King of England. It is concerning your daughter, the Princess Lilianna."

"Do continue," Charles replied.

"Harry writes that he may have a potential match for Lilianna in England, if you are willing to consider the option." Charles nodded uneasily. His daughter had remained unmarried due to the death of her fiancée in the wars with Navarre and France, so his reluctance was understandable, and Elizabeth overlooked it. "William Cavendish, the Duke of Devonshire, is a wealthy man and one of the more powerful Dukes in English politics. He is older than Lilianna by quite some years and has been married twice before, both wives dying in childbirth with no surviving children, but he is a good man who treats everyone, even his tenants, with the utmost respect and kindness. Harry writes that he is looking for a new wife in order to possibly produce heirs before he dies, but that if he dies while the children are still young, that Lilianna would inherit everything, including the title, upon Harry's order as King. She would be well cared for and well provided for, regardless of the Duke's health or lack thereof."

"Have you ever met this man, your Grace?" Charles asked out of concern for his youngest daughter.

"Twice when I was small," Elizabeth said. "The first time, he gave me a rose and told me I was the most beautiful Princess in all the realms, despite the fact that no one but my governess was present. The second was at his first wife's funeral, where I saw the man genuinely weep for his wife and their stillborn son."

"He cried actual tears in public?" Charles questioned.

"Yes, your Majesty, he did." Elizabeth imparted, thinking sadly on the occasion.

Charles was silent for several minutes. Elizabeth knew he was considering it. "I will present the idea to Lillianna and let you know with all haste."

Elizabeth kissed his cheek, curtsied and left the room, leaving Charles to think even more about the situation. She hoped he would accept Harry's offer. She knew the Duke would make Lilianna happy, despite the distance in their ages, and being able to see England would be a treat for the young woman, who'd never been allowed out of her father's sight before in her life. As for the rest, only God knew what would happen and Elizabeth had to accept that it was not in her control.

---

April 19, 1556

Stratford Castle, England

Lady Margaret Marlowe's Bedchamber

Lady Margaret was sitting in her Bedchamber, sewing a prayer cloth. The twenty-eight year old Countess was happy with her life. She was happily married to her loving husband and now had her beautiful daughter, Lady Mary Marlowe. The little ten month infant had warmed the hearts of all the inhabitants of Stratford Castle, including her father. However, Margaret desperately wanted to provide her husband with a son. Although she had little Mary feeding from a wet nurse, she had not gotten pregnant again, despite the fact that her husband frequently visited her bed. It seemed as if little Lady Mary Marlowe would be their only child.

Suddenly, Lady Temperance Dudley, Margaret's maid, walked in.

"My Lady, I am sorry to disturb you, but I have come to inquire on why you have not had your monthly bleeding." she asked.

Margaret was shocked. It had been a couple of months since her maids had to collect her blood stained bedsheets. She thought it wasn't a big deal, but she also noticed that her breasts were sensitive and there was no growth.

Margaret sighed.

"You may fetch a midwife, but be discreet. I do not want to get Lord John's hopes up. This will not leave this room. Am I understood?" she asked sternly.

Lady Temperance Dudley nodded her head and departed for town to fetch a midwife.

Lady Margaret held a hand to her stomach and deeply prayed that another child was slumbering in her womb. She knew her husband loved her, but a son and heir she felt would keep his respect. Her husband had been a common blacksmith, but now he had wealth and she was sure that he didn't want to leave it all to a daughter, who could never carry on the Marlowe family name. Her sister was never able to bear a surviving son. Would she be subject to the same fate?

-
Several hours later...

Lady Margaret had just been examined by the village midwife and she was nervous about what was she to find out. She was hoping for good news.

The midwife smiled.

"My Lady, you are definitely with child. I would say you are two months gone and should be brought to childbed in November." she said.

Margaret smiled. She couldn't believe it. She was carrying another child and this time it could be a son. She was happy that God was smiling upon her again.

---

1 May 1556

Alhambra Palace, Granada, Spain

The Throne Room

Emperor Charles V was sitting on his throne, in deep thought. Today was a day that was going to be hard for him. He was also happy. This was the day that his youngest daughter, Infanta Liliana, was departing from her homeland and was finally going to be a bride. Her groom was a bit older than her, but see seemed excited to finally married and have a family.

Suddenly, Infante Juan entered the room.

"Father, are you well?" he asked.

Charles nodded.

"I am. I'm just anxious for your sister to depart." he said.

Juan kneeled down.

"Father...it's acceptable if you will miss her. She's the youngest of us and I know you'll miss her." he said.

Charles had a tear fall down his face.

"It's true. I am going to miss your sister very much. Juan, I'm an old man. I may never see your sister again." he said.

Juan looked at his father. Charles was now fifty-six years old, his gout was getting worse and he was always tired. There were even rumors that he wanted to abdicate, but these weren't proven.

Suddenly, the doors opened and Infanta Liliana and Infanta Catarina walked in. Liliana was wearing her traveling clothes and had a few servants accompanying her, including her former governess, who tended to her as an infant.

Both young women bowed in respect.

Charles took his cane and stood up and told his daughter and daughter-in-law to rise.

He walked up to Liliana.

"My beautiful girl. You look just like your mother when she arrived here over forty years ago. We were both young teenager, but I loved her dearly. Now, you are returning to her homeland. However, do not forget who you are. You are and will always be an Infanta of Spain. You have allies here, hija. Do you understand?" he asked.

Liliana nodded.

"Yes, Father. I will not fail you or Spain. I will make Lord Cavendish an excellent wife and I also promise to name my first son after you." she said.

Charles smiled.

"Such sentiments are not required, my dear. However, I know you are your mother's daughter and will not take no for an answer. Not even from the Emperor." he said playfully, as he cupped her cheek.

Juan walked up to Liliana.

"I didn't realize saying goodbye would hurt this much, dear sister." he said, holding back tears.

Liliana hugged her older brother.

"Then let's not say it, dear Juan. I will say I love you and wish you all the happiness in the world as you do me. Look after our Father and be a good husband and father to Catarina and Sebastian." she said.

Juan looked at his youngest sister. With her long dark auburn hair, gray eyes and flawless skin, she was the spitting image of their beloved mother, who died seventeen years prior.

Liliana turned to Catarina.

"Oh, Catarina. You've been so sweet to me and our family. You are a true testament to your parents and a wonderful wife and mother. Never change. You will always be in my heart." she said.

Catarina smiled and hugged her sister-in-law.

"I will miss you, Liliana. Don't forget to write. I want to hear all about your life." she said.

Suddenly, the guards appeared, signaling that it was time to depart.

Liliana looked at her father, with dignity and honor in her eyes, made one final curtsy and then turned to depart from her home and family.

Charles sat down, in admiration.

"A true Princess of Spain. She was born to be a Queen." he said to himself.

What Charles didn't know, was that as he said that, his youngest daughter had tears flowing from her beautiful eyes, as she walked to her carriage that would take her away from her homeland forever.

---

10 May 1556
Austria

It was taking too long... but it always took too long if you asked any man of the time. No matter how many times Andy sat through it with his mother, his sisters, or his wife, his lack of patience would always get the better of him. This was the fifth of his children with his wife, the beautiful Isabelle, who was also his cousin. Perhaps that was why they had been so lucky, Andy had wondered from time to time, as they both came from a strong blood line.

Their son, their eldest child, Philip, had come into this world rather easily, despite it having been Isabelle's first child. Andy, the Archduke of Austria whose name was Ferdinand, but the family called him Andy to not confuse him with his father, the ruling Archduke, had lost his mother to childbirth only a year prior, and his sister Elisabeth the year before that. He was, understandably, concerned for his wife's health and survival, but Isabelle had come through the ordeal perfectly fine, as she had with the three children following Philip's arrival. This pregnancy was uneventful, and he had every confidence she would survive. The only real aggravation was not knowing if he would be blessed with another son or another daughter. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his father.

"Any news on your wife yet my son?" Archduke Ferdinand asked.

"None of late," Andy replied, standing and bowing to the elder man. "Last word was about an hour ago, saying that events were progressing nicely, and the child would soon be born."

Ferdinand, who had recently remarried, just nodded. "Your stepmother is in our private chapel, praying for your wife's safe delivery of the child."

"Please, send her my thanks," Andy said. He liked his new stepmother for the most part. Though she could not replace his own mother, he could tell she was a kind-hearted woman with a gentle spirit who made his father happy.

Just then, the doors to Isabelle's chambers swung open, and the midwife's assistant came out with a white bundle in her arms. She curtsied to the Archduke, then handed the babe to Andy, who smiled widely once he could see the baby breathing. He looked at the younger woman.

"And my wife?" he asked.

"My lady is doing fine, my lord," the young woman answered. "She is being properly tended to, and you will be able to see her soon." The young woman curtsied again and turned to reenter the room.

"Wait," Andy commanded. "The baby. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"My apologies, your Highness," the woman responded. "You have a daughter."

Andy smiled. Three daughters and two sons now graced his household. Out of five pregnancies, they had five healthy, surviving children. He knew they were blessed, as so many had lost children at a young age.

His father took the baby from him for a moment and looked into his granddaughter's eyes. "Happy Birthday darling girl," Archduke Ferdinand said, kissing his newborn granddaughter on the forehead softly, as not to disturb her sleep.

"Christina," Andy said.

"Christina?" Ferdinand questioned.

"Yes," Andy replied. "Isabelle chose the name many months ago, if we were to have a daughter. She was rather adamant about it, though her reasons were not revealed. I've never seen her so determined, so I gave her the choice."

Ferdinand simply nodded, returning his granddaughter to her father's arms. "Lady Christina it is then," he said. "Now, I must return to my duties. Give Isabelle my love and tell her the Archduchess and I will see her and Lady Christina soon."

"I will Father," Andy assured him.

"Congratulations son!" Ferdinand said, then turned and walked away.

Andy looked at the little baby girl in his arms and began planning her future as he waited to see his wife.

---

12 May 1556
Hampton Court, England
The Throne Room

King Harry and Queen Anne were sitting on their Thrones. Both were dressed in their splendor. King Harry was still very handsome and tall, just like his late father. Unlike the late King Henry VIII, Harry stayed active and was in very good health. One thing that seemed to pass to most of the Tudor family was their impressive height. King Harry himself was at least six foot two like his father. His sisters were all tall as well, especially Queen Elizabeth I of Navarre who was five foot ten inches tall.

Harry looked at his wife. Despite her beautiful clothes, Queen Anne was not well and there was no hiding it. The forty-one year old looked a few years older, due to being ill for sometime. Her hair had lost it's vibrant shine and her eyes looked very tired, but she was still the Queen of England.

Anne leaned over to Harry.

"Sweetheart, do you really think your Spanish cousin will be happy with Lord Cavendish? He is quite older than her." she asked.

Harry looked at Anne.

"It was my sister's idea. Apparently, this particular Infanta has had trouble finding a husband. Her betrothed was a Spanish Duke, but he was murdered as hostage during the war between France and Spain." he said.

Queen Anne nodded, in understanding.

Suddenly, the herald announced:

"HIS GRACE LORD WILLIAM CAVENDISH, DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE!"

Lord William, Duke of Devonshire, walked into the room, dressed in his finest. He was fifty-one years old and had lost his youthful, muscular build, but he was wealthy and was one of England's eligible bachelors. He only had two daughters from his first marriage and he desperately wanted a son to inherit his title.

The middle aged Duke made it to his sovereigns and took a deep how.

"Your Majesties." he said.

King Harry stood to welcome his courtier.

"Lord Cavendish, I trust you are well?" he asked.

Lord Cavendish smiled.

I am quite well, Your Majesty, thank you for worrying about an old, insufficient man." he said.

King Harry waved his hand.

"You are not insufficient, especially since you were picked to marry my cousin." he said.

Lord Cavendish smiled and bowed again.

Suddenly, the herald called out again:

"HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, INFANTA LILIANA OF SPAIN!"

The doors opened and the court froze, as Infanta Liliana walked in with her entourage, which included Lord James Brandon, who was now twenty years old. The entire court was mesmerized by Liliana. She was very beautiful and many considered the Duke if Cavendish to be a very blessed man if he married this Spanish Princess.

Liliana made it to the Thrones and bowed.

"Your Majesties, I thank you for your hospitality and kindness in your beautiful foreign lands." she said.

Harry was silent. He couldn't get over how beautiful this woman was.

"You are most welcome here, Your Highness. Allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Anne." he said, as he gestured towards Anne.

Liliana bowed.

"Your Majesty." she said.

Anne smiled.

"Your Highness, welcome to England." she said.

Finally, King Harry gestured to Lord Cavendish.

"Your Highness, this is your future husband, Lord William Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire." he said.

Liliana looked at the older gentleman, who was now kissing her hand. He was very much older than her, but this was her chance to finally be a wife and mother and she wasn't going to let s thing, especially a twenty-eight year age difference get in her way.

---

15 May 1556
Navarre

The sun was rising over the eastern wings of the palace in Navarre. King Luis, King Consort of Navarre, looked out the window in the hallway, watching the rays spread their warmth over the earth as he waited, somewhat impatiently, for news of his wife and child. Queen Elizabeth had been in labor with their third child for nearly fourteen hours, and the King had only received two updates on her progress, which were more or less the same news; that there was no news other than the Queen was doing well. He had known women to die in childbirth; his Aunt specifically. He could not lose Elizabeth. She the mother of his children and the Queen of Navarre, but more than that, she was his reason for living.

He thought back to the day they married. They'd only known each other for a brief time in person but had been promised to each other for some time before that, writing letters back and forth as teenagers. He wanted someone he could confide in as his wife, much like the relationship that his grandfather, Charles V, had with his grandmother, Mary, who was also born an English Princess, as his wife had been. He was glad in the fact that his relationship with Elizabeth had become more than a political alliance, but now, he feared for her life, despite being assured that all was going well.

Throughout the day, her labor continued. Servants and guards checked on the King, bringing him trays of foods to keep him occupied while the waiting continued. At some point, Luis must have dozed off in one of the chairs in the hall outside of Elizabeth's chamber, because he dreamed of his late great-grandmother. He was with his sister in the palace, being scolded for the two of them having been playing in the lake fully clothed right before an important visitor was to arrive. Queen Juana was not pleased by the appearance of either child, but she reprimanded him over his sister because he was the oldest. She tried to remain stern, but Luis recalled with fondness how he would see her lips curl into a smile while she was correcting their behavior, and he woke to find one of Elizabeth's ladies touching his shoulder.

The lady curtsied before speaking. "Your Majesty, I was told to inform you that the Queen has been successfully delivered of a healthy baby girl."

Luis nodded, thanked the woman, then looked at the door where his wife and new daughter waited for his arrival. He looked at the lady and told her to send word to the Bishop to have the bells rung for the birth of a new princess of Navarre. The young woman curtsied again and did as she was commanded. Then Luis turned to the door, walked towards it, and knocked before entering the room.

As the doors swung open, he saw his wife enveloped in the rays of the sun from a nearby window, holding a bundle in her arms. He thought that it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen as he slowly approached the bed and knelt beside them.

"We have a daughter," Elizabeth said, turning the top of the swaddling blanket down for her husband to see the face of their child.

"I heard," Luis said, half chuckling.

"What should we call her?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, I suppose that neither Carlos nor Luis will work, since those are the only two names that we had discussed prior to this," Luis said.

"I suppose not," Elizabeth said, laughing with her husband.

Luis thought for a moment, then the answer came to him. His dream was a sign. "Let's name her Juana?" he asked Elizabeth.

"After your great-grandmother," Elizabeth replied, smiling down at the baby girl in her arms. "I like it. It feels right to name this sweet girl for such a wonderful, loving woman."

Luis sat on the bed next to his wife and held out his arms. Elizabeth handed him their daughter gently, then laid back on the pillows.

"Welcome to the world, mi hija," Luis said, kissing the baby on her forehead. "Infanta Juana of Navarre, Aragon, and Castile. You have been named after your great-great grandmother, the late Queen of Castile and Aragon. May you grow to be as intelligent, patient, and loving as she was in her lifetime."

---

5 June 1556
Hampton Court, England

The doors to Queen Anne's chambers burst opened and one of her ladies came rushing inside. "Your Majesty," the young woman said, curtsying to her Queen, "the King asked that fetch you and the Princess Lilianna immediately. You are to come to the throne room with all haste."

"Of course," Queen Anne said, looking at her new friend, the young Spanish Princess. "Come Lilianna."

The two women stood, putting down their needlework on Lilianna's lace train for her upcoming marriage, and walked out of the room, one of the guards closing the doors behind them. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to the throne room of the large English palace, but both were wondering what could cause the King to summon them in such an urgent manner.

Upon reaching the throne room, Queen Anne noticed that the heralds were not there to announce their arrive, which was unusual, but also that the mirrors that decorated the walls were covered in black. Lilianna looked at the Queen, then crossed herself. This was a Spanish tradition of covering the mirrors when someone had died. King Henry must have done it because it was someone Spanish who had been called to heaven. The Infanta could think of no other reason that an English court would honor a Spanish custom. Her thoughts went immediately to her father, but she said nothing, standing silently by her new friend, Queen Anne, and following her hostess's mannerisms.

King Henry looked up from the paper he held in his hand and made his way towards the ladies, giving orders to this servant or that along the way. When he reached where they stood, he kissed his wife's hands, then Lilianna's. "Cousin, I am sorry to have summoned you like this, but given the circumstances, I felt you may need time to prepare for what is to come. You and Queen Anne will have much to discuss," Henry said. "We received word about an hour ago that Lord Cavendish had been called to God's side sometime in the early hours of the morning. I know that the two of you were just getting to know each other, but the customs in England may be different for a betrothed woman than those of Spain, so I wanted you to have time to prepare yourself for what will be expected, since your betrothal has already been announced."

Lilianna stared at Henry for a moment. She shook off the confusion from preparing for the thought that it was her father who had died. "Of course, your Majesty," she replied with a curtsey. "Forgive me, cousin, but since the Duke was not Spanish, why do you cover your mirrors?"

Harry looked at the walls. "Oh," he said, then he understood her question fully, seeing her tear stained cheek, "Oh my dear, I am so sorry. You must have thought something had happened to your father, the Emperor. I do apologize for the miscommunication this has brought, but you see, my mother, your late great-aunt, Queen Katherine, taught me this tradition as a child and I saw no harm in continuing it. So, we cover our mirrors here out of respect for the customs and traditions that she brought to our land."

Lilianna breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, Katherine of Aragon was also a Spanish Infanta who'd come to England and became its Queen. She was King Henry's mother. It all made perfect sense now. "What is it that I am to do, sire?" Lilianna asked.

Queen Anne took the girl by her arm gently and led her to a corner of the room where they would not be overheard. "First, you will be expected to dress in mourning clothing, as a wife would, only for three months instead of the typical six, because you were betrothed, but not yet wed," Queen Anne informed her, as Henry left them to continue his preparations for Lord Cavendish's funeral. "You will be in attendance at his funeral of course, and his daughter's will present you with yellow roses instead of red, and may say that they wished you had become their mother; the typical well wishes of polite society in situations like this." Anne paused for a moment, placed a hand on her stomach, then continued. "Henry has received word as of two weeks past that the late Duke had changed his will to include you, stating that you should be taken care of through the generosity of his estate. In English society, a bride-to-be is not entitled to this, but the Duke did not foresee his passing, I am certain. When his will is read before the council, you will be expected to decline the generosity of the late Duke, and then as a Spanish Princess, Henry will make the gesture that the crown will ensure your comfort as a foreign dignitary until what time, if ever, you choose to return home."

"If ever?" Lilianna questioned.

"As a woman betrothed to an English Duke, you are now a citizen of England and of Spain, your homeland," the Queen explained. "You would not have been expected to renounce Spain until the day of your marriage, so that your future was secure. My Henry passed these laws after what happened to his late mother when Arthur, Prince of Wales died, and she was left alone in England. It gave foreign women who were not married the opportunity to return to their homelands if they chose to do so."

Lilianna nodded. "I am expected to remain in England for the three months then?"

Queen Anne simply nodded, before sitting down on one of the bench couches that lined the walls of the throne room. "Your Majesty," Lilianna began, "are you feeling poorly?"

Anne smiled at her young companion. "I will be fine, my dear. My stomach gives me a lot of trouble of late."

"Should I fetch his Majesty?"

"No," Anne assured her. "It will pass."

Not wanting to pry, Lilianna dropped the subject. "What else will be expected of me then, please?"

"Nothing more than that," the Queen assured her. "Once the three months has passed, you can decide for yourself where you want to be."

Lilianna nodded. "Then if you will excuse me, your Grace, I would like to return to my chambers and write to my father so he knows what has transpired here."

"Of course," Anne said gently. Lilianna curtsied and left the room gracefully. Henry came over to where his wife sat out of concern, but his eyes never left the Spanish Infanta until she was long out of sight.

"Will she be okay?" He asked his wife.

"She understands what's expected of her Harry," Anne told him. "She will give our customs a fair go, being unfamiliar with them." Anne winced in pain again.

"Darling, let me escort you back to your chambers," Henry said, offering her his arm, which she took gratefully once the pain had passed. "I will summon the doctors for you."

"As you wish," Anne said, not wanting to argue, despite the fact that she knew what the doctors would tell her. The couple exited the throne room, walking in silence to the Queen's chambers. Anne was hoping Harry wouldn't press the matter. She knew he had more important things to deal with right now. What she didn't know was that her husband was growing more and more concerned for her by the day, seeing how little she was eating, and had more than just the Duke's passing on his mind.

---

12 June 1556
Imereti

Formally, Princess Amadea was now considered to be part of the Russian Orthodox Church, though in her heart she was still Catholic. She had some reservations about converting, but after weeks of study, she had given up most of those reasons for the sole fact that some were nothing more than terminology differences. Her official conversion had taken place only days before she was to marry the Crown Prince of Imereti, George, taking the name Aimee as her baptismal name, and now the day had come for her to become his bride.

She dressed in her rooms of the palace, assisted by her ladies, in her mother's wedding dress. It was beige in color, and the lace had been sewn over the past few months to fit with certain traditions of the ruling family of Imereti, as requested by her husband-to-be when he was told her dress was beige and would not blend well with the lace overlay his own mother had worn. The sleeves were sewn with handmade roses to cover the buttons, and also had layers of lace attached. Princess Amadea could hardly believe how beautiful she was when she looked in the mirror of dressing chambers. She truly resembled a Queen-to-be. The only thing left was the marriage crown of Imereti.

The crown was nothing like Amadea had ever seen before. Royal brides in Imereti were not permitted to wear veils over their faces so no one could kidnap the princess-to-be and replace her with another woman during the ceremony. Some scandal over two-hundred years prior had caused that law to come into play. The crown was designed to appear as though the bride was wearing a veil, but her face was clearly visible. The top of the crown was a tiara, modeled after the tiaras for the Queen of Imereti in the crown jewels, but in the center, behind the peak of the crown, was a smaller version of the coronation crown for the King. The entire piece was finely hammered gold, with diamonds placed on the peaks, and had an attachment in the back for the bride-to-be's train; it was the one piece of the wedding ensemble that the bride chose herself.

When she was ready, Princess Amadea was escorted to the chapel of the palace, where the wedding was to take place. There was a huge reception for those who'd been invited after the ceremony, but the ceremony itself was private, only for members of the royal family of Imereti and members of the nobility. Not even Amadea's mother and brother were permitted to attend, as they were not of the Orthodox Faith.
The Priest led the way from the back of the church to the altar chanting the processional Psalm, with the choir answering him in the appropriate places. After incensing the altar, he turned to the couple and recited the wedding scriptures then prayed, "O God most pure, Author of all creation, Who through Your man-befriending love transformed a rib of Adam the forefather into a woman, and blessed them and said, "Increase and multiply, and have dominion over the earth," and, by the conjoining, declared them both to be one member, for because of this a man shall forsake his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and the two shall be one flesh and whom God has joined together let not man put asunder; Who did also bless Your servant Abraham, and opened the womb of Sara, and made him the father of many nations; Who bestowed Isaac upon Rebecca, and blessed her offspring; Who joined Jacob and Rachel, and from them made manifest the twelve patriarchs; Who yoked Joseph and Asenath together, and as the fruit of generation did bestow upon them Ephrem and Manasse; Who accepted Zacharias and Elizabeth, and declared their offspring the Forerunner; Who out of the root of Jesse, according to the flesh, produced the Ever Virgin Mary, and from her were Incarnate-born for the salvation of the human race; Who through Your unspeakable Grace and plentiful goodness were present in Cana of Galilee, and blessed the marriage there, that You might show a lawful union, and a generation there from, is according to Your Will; do You Yourself, O Most Holy Master, accept the prayer of us, Your servants; and as You were present there, be present also here with Your invisible protection.

Bless this marriage and grant unto these Your servants George and Aimee a peaceful life, length of days, chastity, love for one another in a bond of peace, offspring long lived, fair fame by reason of their children, and a crown of glory that does not fade away.

Account them worthy to see their children's children. Keep their wedlock safe against every hostile scheme; give them of the dew from the Heavens above, and of the fatness of the earth. Fill their houses with bountiful food, and with every good thing, that they may have to give to them that are in need, bestowing also on them that are here assembled with us all their supplications that are unto salvation.

For a God of mercy and of compassion, and of manbefriending love are You, and to You do we send up Glory: as to Your eternal Father and Your All Holy, Good, and Life creating Spirit, both now and ever, and to the ages of ages."

Those assembled for the event replied, "Amen," and the priest continued. An Orthodox wedding ceremony can take hours to perform, and this one was no exception. Although the ceremony was beautiful, Amadea, now Princess Aimee in the eyes of her husband's people, found her mind wandering to when she was baptized into the Catholic church and confirmed. It wasn't until George spoke that she snapped back to attention and remembered where she was and what she was doing. He sipped from the cup that the priest handed him and said, "I will drink from the cup of salvation; I will call upon the name of the Lord." George handed the cup back to the priest. The ceremony continued for about thirty minutes more, then the priest declared them married, they kissed the iconic figures presented to them, then turned to their guests and walked back down the aisle of the church, with Aimee's arm in George's.

George led his wife to their new chambers; rooms that Aimee had never seen before. They were more magnificent than her current ones, but that was to be expected now that they were the future King and Queen of Imereti. George closed the doors behind them and turned to where she was standing. She looked at him, a little confused. She thought they would attend their own reception and did not understand why they were in their bedchambers already.

"No one told you, did they?" George asked.

"Told me what?" Aimee replied, nervously.

"While the guests assemble in the banquet hall, we come up here and consummate the marriage before joining the reception," George said, gently, pulling her into his arms.

"Oh," Aimee said. "No, no one told me." She felt extremely shy suddenly.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "You have nothing to be scared of. I hope, in time, you will even come to enjoy this part of our marriage." He led her to their bed slowly, then scooped her up into his arms and laid her down gently. He began kissing her cheeks, then her lips, before finally kissing her neck softly. She felt his hands began to unlace her dress and at first, wanted to stop him, but then remembered that they were now married, and this was proper between a husband and wife. Then it really dawned on her that they were married. "George," she said, "George stop."

The Crown Prince did so and looked at his wife. "What's wrong?"

"Where are the priests?" Aimee asked him. "If they are not here, how will they know the marriage was . . . you know."

George chuckled. He'd heard of Catholic witnesses to the consummation of marriages, but had brushed them off as rumors before, at least until now. His young new wife just confirmed that they did indeed take place. "Our priests don't do that here, darling," he told her, running the back of his hand on her cheek. "They leave us to it, then we simply leave the sheets on the bed, so they can see that it was done."

Aimee looked at him for a moment, then smiled. She preferred it this way. She didn't have to perform for a crowd when she had no idea what she was doing as a wife. George wiped the thoughts from her mind as he removed her dress and touched her in places no one ever had before.

---

18 June 1556
Pamplona, Navarre
The Royal Palace

Lady Sancha de Mendoza (Guerra) was sitting in her Bedchamber, sewing a dress for her husband's six year old sister. The nineteen year old was also pregnant with her second child, which was due any day now. She was bored and missed being around her friend, Queen Elizabeth. She did not like confinement. She also missed her husband and her precious son, Enrique.

Suddenly, one of her maids walked in.

"My Lady, I have a visitor here to see you." she said.

Lady Sancha nodded.

Suddenly, Queen Elizabeth walked in, smiling at her best friend.

Lady Sancha started to get up, but Elizabeth stopped her.

"Don't get up, my sweet friend." she said, as she hugged Sancha.

Sancha smiled.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in confinement for one more week." she said.

Elizabeth nodded. It had only been five weeks since the birth of her third child, Infanta Juana.

"I can't be stuffed in that room. I ordered them to let me see you." she said.

Sancha held Elizabeth by her hand.

"I'm so sorry I can't be with you." she said.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Don't be. You need to take care of yourself, for your child as well. I can't believe our babies will be close in age like this." she said.

Sancha laughed.

"Our husbands should be declared saints for their patience." she joked.

She and Elizabeth began to laugh. However, as they were laughing, Lady Sancha felt a wet substance drip down her legs.

She looked at Elizabeth.

"Your Majesty, I don't want to alarm you, but my time has come." she said.

Elizabeth looked at Sancha's maid and nodded at her to fetch a midwife. Elizabeth, despite being a Queen, helped her friend to get bed to prepare for the birth of her child.

Several hours later...

Lord Carlos de Mendoza was pacing outside of his wife's Bedchamber, as she screamed in pain. The twenty-two year old cared for his wife and hated to hear her in pain. He had reason to be nervous, since his beloved mother died in childbirth three years prior and his stepmother nearly lost her life giving birth to his younger half-brother, Lord Alfonso, just six months prior.

King Luis looked at at the younger gentle man.

"Don't worry. The Lord is with her." he said.

Lord Carlos sighed.

"It seems childbirth will kill everyone I love. First it killed my mother, then it nearly killed my stepmother and I fear it will kill my beloved Sancha." he said.

Luis shook his head.

"She will be fine." he said.

Suddenly, there was a loud scream and an ear piercing cry.

Lord Carlos stopped in his tracks. He heard his new child. Was everything fine?

Finally, the midwife stepped outside, still drying her freshly washed hands.

"Everything went well, my Lord. The Viscountess has given birth to a healthy baby girl." she said.

Lord Carlos didn't say anything and rushed inside his wife's Bedchamber.

Inside the room, the maids had changed the bloodstained sheets and he saw Queen Elizabeth standing by his exhausted wife.

He bowed to Elizabeth, who told him to rise and he approached his wife.

Sancha smiled you at him, as she cradled their daughter.

Carlos kissed her lips.

" Are you alright, mi amor?" he asked.

Sancha smiled.

"I've never been better. Look at our daughter." she said.

Carlos looked at his newborn daughter. She was a beautiful little girl with light brown hair and light olive skin. Carlos took her in his arms and kissed her.

He looked at his wife and smiled.

"I was thinking of calling her Eleanora, after your sister." he said.

Lady Sancha smiled.

"Thank you so much, mi amor." she said.

Carlos smiled. The one thing he was certain of in his life was that his wife, son and daughter would always come first.

---

19 June 1556
The Alhambra, Granada, Spain
The Gardens

Princess Giovanna de Mendoza was sitting on her favorite bench, watching her six year old stepdaughter, Lady Anais, playing with one of the dogs. The thirty-one year old Italian Princess was so happy. Not only did she have three stepchildren, but she was finally blessed with her own child and more importantly, it was a boy. At six months old, Lord Alfonso de Mendoza had stolen the hearts of his household.

Suddenly, Lord Diego de Mendoza, Giovanna's husband, walked up to her and kissed her.

Giovanna smiled at him.

"How are you, sweetheart? Have you any news on our son?" she asked.

Diego nodded. Because of his age little Lord Alfonso was staying in the Mendoza's home in Madrid. Giovanna was happy with this, especially since this was her only child.

"He's growing everyday and he has a new playmate. I've just received a letter from Navarre. It seems that Carlos and Sancha had a healthy daughter yesterday. They've named her Eleanora." he said, with a proud smile.

Giovanna smiled.

"That's wonderful news! " she said, as she stood up and began to walk.

Diego stood and followed his wife, while his daughter's governess walked up to lead the exhausted six year old to her nap.

Giovanna turned to her husband.

"Sweetheart, would it be possible for us to return to Madrid in October or November?" she asked.

Diego was stunned. They hadn't planned on returning home until after Christmas.

"I'll have to make sure, but I am sure the Emperor will allow it. Why do you ask?" he asked his wife.

Giovanna stopped and smiled.

"Well...I don't want to be too big traveling home." she said.

Diego looked at his wife, in shock.

"Are you saying...?" he stammered.

Giovanna nodded.

"I'm three months along. I should be brought to childbed in December again. Isn't this wonderful?" she asked, as she hugged him.

Diego was frozen, in fear. It had only been six months since the birth of their son and Giovanna had a horrible labor that lasted almost two days and she nearly died and she had to remain in bed for over a month.

"We were careful. Giovanna...it's too soon " he said.

Giovanna glared at him.

"Alfonso's birth was not good, but he came out healthy, as did I. This child will arrive and we will love it. Also, you were not as careful as you think." she said defiantly.

Diego sighed. His wife was right. It was hard to resist his second wife's bed for a long period of time. She was so beautiful, with her long brown wavy hair, blue-green eyes and light skin and heavy bosom. He would always love his first wife, the late Infanta Maria of Spain, however after the birth of their youngest daughter, her health had become delicate and they had to cease marital relations. However, Maria couldn't resist forever and they started sharing a bed again, which resulted in the pregnancy that killed her.

Diego held Giovanna's hand.

"I know that this child is a blessing from the Lord, but I just do not want to lose you, my love." he said.

Giovanna caressed her husband on his cheek.

"Everything will work out. I promise." she said.

As she said those words, Giovanna silently prayed she was right.

---

24 June 1556
France

Queen Catherine of France had been in labor for more than 36 hours. It was not going well. Despite this being her ninth pregnancy and never having this much difficulty before in giving birth, Catherine knew something was not right. The baby should have come already. Even her midwife was concerned.

King Henri II of France was inside his private chapel, praying for their child to arrive safely in the world. Although he and the Queen had a difficult time conceiving at first, once Francis had been born, the children came, almost yearly, at a steady pace, and never before had Catherine been in labor for this long with a child. He was scared, though he would not admit that to anyone but God.

He was still on his knees in prayer when he was interrupted by his mistress, Diane, who joined him on the floor in prayer. Despite the fact that Diane and Catherine held no love for each other, he knew Diane as compassionate towards any woman who could be dying, and they both knew that a labor lasting this long could be dangerous. What he was unaware of were Diane's true thoughts on the matter, which did not rest with Catherine's safety, but more so the fact that she did not want to contend with another wife of Henri's should Catherine die in childbirth; she did not want to risk losing her influence in court which was possible should he remarry. Diane crossed herself, then stood and looked at Henri, placing a hand on his shoulder, then was about to depart the room when one of Catherine's ladies entered. They both turned, waiting for the news.

"Well?" Henri asked, impatiently, "how fairs the Queen?"

The girl curtsied, "Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion, but the midwife sent me to find you. She said she needs the royal physician urgently and asks that you come to the Queen's chambers. It is not going well, and a decision may have to be made soon." Henri crossed himself and looked at Diane.

"I'll fetch the physician myself with all haste," she told him and quickly left.

"Tell the midwife I will be there with all urgency," the King replied, bidding the girl away. After she'd left, he turned briefly to look at the cross hanging above the altar, then followed, ordering his guard to bring his eldest three children to their mother's chambers immediately.

It seemed like a lifetime to Henri before he reached Catherine's rooms, when in reality it was less than three minutes. He paused at the door, hearing silence from within, then knocked loudly. The midwife came to the door and stepped outside.

She curtsied. "Your Grace," the older woman said, "the Queen's labor is not progressing, and she is weakening from the loss of blood. I am awaiting the physician, but I may have to act if he does not arrive soon. What are your orders if I have to make the choice myself?"

Henri looked at the door in disbelief, then back at the woman. "What is the Queen telling you to do?" He asked.

"She is demanding that we save the child," the woman said, "but that may not be an option. The child may already be dead, your Majesty. I am not skilled enough to tell."

Henri thought for a moment. "Do as your Queen commands. Catherine will not be able to live with herself if she survives and the child does not because her instructions were not followed. . ."

The door opened behind them quickly and another of Catherine's ladies came out. She curtsied when she saw the King, then turned to the midwife. "I see the babe's head. You are needed."

The two women looked at the King, who ordered them to go, then went to the window near Catherine's rooms and stared outside at the gardens. It was his father who'd given Catherine these rooms, so she could always see the beauty of France when she looked outside of these windows. He had not always treated her with the kindness a husband should show his wife, and he vowed silently that if God saw fit to spare her and his child, he would treat her with more respect.

Henri turned to the end of the hallway, hearing a noise, and saw their children approaching with Diane and the court physician. The man went inside the birthing chamber immediately, while Diane and the children joined him at the window. Francis, the Dauphin of France and their eldest son, was twelve, almost thirteen. He stood beside his father, saying nothing, but had that look about him of an adult who fully understood the situation they were facing. Princess Elisabeth, who was eleven, also knew what was going on, and you could tell she was worried from her facial expression. Princess Claude was only nine. She knew their mother could die but did not understand that it was having a baby that caused the situation. Henri lifted her into his arms and held her, placing his free hand on Elisabeth's shoulder. They stood at the window for quite a while before the doors to Catherine's chambers opened.

The physician approached the royal family of France to give them the news. He looked at the children, then at the king. "Your Majesty, your Highnesses," the man said, "the Queen has been delivered of two healthy baby girls and is doing as well as can be expected at this time."

Francis and Elisabeth smiled at each other, hugging. Their mother would be okay was the message they heard. Claude just looked at them, then at their father, trying to understand. "Mama will be fine, Claude," Henri told her, "and you have two new sisters to play with when they are older." He put Claude down and looked at Francis and Elisabeth. "Take her back to the nursery wing and stay with her for a while children. I will come fetch you when Mama and the babies can be seen."

Francis took his little sister by the hand and left with them, after bowing to his father.

The door opened a moment later and the midwife waived him inside. When he entered the room, he was overwhelmed by what he saw. His wife, Catherine de Medici, was laying in her bed with two bundles in her arms. She was almost as white as the sheets she was laying on and looked as though she hadn't slept in months.

The midwife stopped him before he approached her. "Do not stress her your Majesty. She nearly bled to death pushing the second one out. We were able to make it stop, but she is very weak, despite her stubbornness."

Henri nodded, then approached his wife and newborn daughters. Catherine looked up at him and gave him half a smile. "I am sorry they are not sons, Henri," Catherine began.

"We have sons, Catherine," Henri said, smiling. "These two little miracles are perfect as they are."

Catherine raised one eyebrow at him. He had never before come to see her when she'd had girls. She couldn't help but wonder why he was there now.

"I will give you more children, more sons," Catherine said, but the physician interrupted her.

"Your Majesty," he began, "it would be unlikely that you or the child would survive if you were to conceive again. In order to save your youngest Princess, I had to cauterize a tear in your body. You would likely bleed to death before you would give birth, taking the child with you." Queen Catherine was devastated at this news. What would she become to Henri if she couldn't give him children? How would he treat her knowing that she would be barren? She looked at her husband.

"You've given me ten children already Catherine," Henri said, "including five sons. I say our line is secure without you risking your life again." Catherine just stared at him in shock. "Now, what shall we name our newest beauties?"

Catherine looked at the babies in her arms. "I like Victoria," she told him.

"Then the oldest will be Princess Victoria Valois," he declared. "And for the youngest of our children?"

"I don't know," Catherine said, "Brigitte? Nicolette?"

Henri thought for a moment. They were pretty names, but they didn't quite fit the situation, he thought. "What if we call her Joan, after Joan d'Arc?"

Catherine looked at her youngest daughter. "Princess Joan," she said out loud. "I like it.

"Then there it is," Henri responded. "Princess Victoria and Princess Joan of France." He looked at his wife, who was laying her head back against the pillow from exhaustion. "Sleep Catherine. Our other children will come back to see the three of you later, with me." Henri stood and left the room with Catherine watching his every move to see what kind of hidden thoughts might come out in his actions, but he was stone as he closed the door behind him.

Catherine felt her daughters being taken and smiled as she laid back to get some much needed rest, hoping she was not missing anything that could lead to her demise at Henri's hands.

A/N Thank you all do much for your patience and I hope you all enjoy this Chapter. Please leave More reviews! Chapter 47 is in the works!