Chapter 63
Chapter Sixty-Three has arrived. I hope you all are still enjoying the story. One thing I can say is we have many different families and tons of storylines and I hope you all stick around for them. We have many more years to cover. Please Read and Review and enjoy Chapter Sixty-Three!
9 May 1562
Caserta Palace, Naples, Italy
Princess Lucrezia's Bedchambers
Princess Lucrezia screamed, as another contraction tore through her and she pushed. She had gone into labor over twenty-four hours earlier and was having a difficult time.
The midwife looked at her.
"Your Highness, keep pushing." she urged
Lucrezia looked down and was shocked to see the amount of blood that was on her sheets.
"Oh God, I'm losing it again." she cried out.
The midwife shook her head.
"No, Your Highness. Your child will live." she said.
Lucrezia continued to push harder, praying that her child was going to survive this horrible birth.
Finally, the midwife smiled.
"I see the head, Your Highness." she said.
Lucrezia pushed harder, screaming loudly.
A loud piercing cry filled the room. Lucrezia fell back against her pillow, trying to catch her breath.
The midwife smiled.
"It is a boy, Your Highness! " she cried out.
Lucrezia smiled weakly and closed her eyes.
The midwife cleaned the crying baby boy off and swaddled him and brought him over to Lucrezia.
"Here he is, Your Highness." she said.
However, she noticed that Lucrezia's breathing wasn't stable. She handed the baby to one of Lucrezia's ladies-in-waiting and checked between her legs.
She looked up.
"She is still bleeding. Fetch the physician!" she yelled.
One of the maids ran out.
King Alfonso, Queen Adriana and Prince Owen were waiting on news from the physician, who was working on Lucrezia.
Adriana stood up and put her hands on Owen's shoulders.
"Do not worry. The doctor knows what he is doing. He delivered all of our children, Lucrezia including." she said.
Owen nodded, but did not say anything.
Adriana sighed.
"Would you like something to eat or drink?" she asked.
Owen shook his head.
The door opened and the physician walked out, covered in blood.
Owen stood up.
"Did you butcher my wife?!" he asked.
The physician shook his head.
"No. The Princess has stopped bleeding. The placenta was too far down and upon the birth of child, the bleeding became worse. I managed to stop the bleeding. The Princess should recover, as long as fever does not occur. She needs plenty of rest. She has asked you to name your son, Signore." he said, looking at Owen.
Owen, smiling that Lucrezia would survive, nodded his head.
"He will be called Edward, after my brother." he said.
The physician nodded and walked back in. Owen and Lucrezia's parents all smiled at each other, thanking God that all was well.
12 May 1562
Turkey
"Enter," commanded the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire. He was in his private library, reading, as he often did late at night when he couldn't sleep. A servant entered the room, followed by a young man that Suleiman recognized from the royal guard, but he couldn't recall the man's name. "What is this?"
"Majesty," the servant said as he bowed, "this soldier has word from Europe for you."
The Sultan nodded and looked at the man, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"My Sultan," the soldier said, "our ambassadors reportedly made it to the French court, but they had not returned. We received word today that their bodies were located on a roadside in Italy. It looks as though they were killed, though we do not know why."
Suleiman took the message from the soldier's hands and read it. He shook his head in sorrow at the loss of two fine gentlemen who had served him well. "Thank you for brining this to me," he said. The soldier and the servant bowed and left the room, closing the doors behind them.
The Sultan sat down. He needed to think. He had attempted to return the young French princess to her family three times, and each time something had prevented him from doing so. He could not be certain that the men had delivered the message to the French King, who was the brother of the Princess still in his care. He did not know what else to do.
Suddenly, an idea came to him. He went to the door and told the guard to bring his son, Selim, to him. Then he went to the table in the library and started drafting a plan. Selim arrived several moments later, out of breath. He bowed to his father.
"My son," Suleiman acknowledged.
"You sent for me Father?"
"Yes. I have tried to return the Princess to her family, as it should be, but I have been thwarted each time," the Sultan said. "I will make plans to deliver the Princess to her home myself. You will work with me over the next several months to prepare for this journey, and you will act in my place while I am gone."
Selim looked at his father. This was no trip for an old man to make. "Father, shouldn't I make the journey for you? If something were to happen to you. . . where would the Empire be?"
Suleiman shook his head. "I am old, and you are my successor. Should something happen to me, you will lead the Empire into the future, with the help of God and our advisors, as it should be," he said. "That is the natural order of things."
"But Father," Selim began. However, the older man held up his hand to silence his son.
"No Selim," Suleiman interrupted, "I will not be talked out of this plan. Every battle I have personally fought in, I have won. Everything I have set out to do with my nation, I have done. I will see the Princess safely home. If I return, then it is God's will that I continue ruling here. If I do not, then your time upon the throne has come, and you will meet that destiny with the strength and dignity of the family you were born into." The Sultan stopped, then said, "That little girl in our charge was brought here for a reason, even if that reason is not known to us. She is five years old, and soon will be six, if I have her birthday correct. She will not forget what she has learned here, but she needs to know her real family, and I will make that happen for her."
Selim nodded, still concerned for his father's safety. He did not like the plan, but he was in no position to argue. "When will you set out for France?"
"If all goes well, in September," Suleiman told him.
"Should you not wait until October, Father?" Selim asked.
"For what reason, my son?"
"The festivals that we traditionally attend to celebrate the harvests?"
Suleiman thought about the matter, then nodded. "I will wait until October. One more month shouldn't matter that much, but then I will return the Princess to France and to her family."
Selim smiled at his father. He admired the older man for his concern for this child. He was truly a caring person, as God demanded, and a just ruler, who would take his life into his own hands in order to return the child to her real family, even if she had been paid for by the Empire. Selim thought of his own son, Murad, who had grown attached to the little girl. He would be sure to prepare him for Joan to leave them. The boy would be saddened, but hopefully, Selim could make him understand that it was the right thing to do.
Selim bowed to his father, then left the room. He thought about the task given to him; to rule the empire in his father's absence. He had only taken over the regency twice in his life, both times for less than two days. This trip would require him to rule for the better part of a two months. He hoped that with God's help, he would be successful, but he also hoped that his father would return safely from France. Selim knew he still had much to learn before God took his father, and he needed every moment of that time. . . he only hoped that God knew it too.
17 May 1562
Tre Kronor Palace, Stockholm, Sweden
Queen Matilda of Sweden's Bedchamber
Queen Matilda was reading one of her favorite books, while sitting by the window. Her hand was resting on her swollen stomach. She was currently expecting her sixth child and was happy for that. Her husband, King Eric, was saddened. Three months ago, his former mistress, Agda Persdotter, had given birth to a daughter with her new husband, Lord Joakim Flemming and Eric was depressed that she seemed happy in her new marriage.
One of her ladies-in-waiting walked over to her.
"Your Majesty, I am so sorry to disturb you, but the King is here and he is requesting to see you." she said.
Matilda sighed, in slight aggravation.
"Send him in." she said.
King Eric walked into his wife's Bedchamber and sat in front of her.
"Hello, Matilda." he said.
Matilda finally looked up at him.
"Eric." she simply said.
Eric sighed.
"You are still being very cold to me." he said.
Matilda glared at him.
"You being sad because your whore is married and with a child of her own with him will not gain you sympathy with me. The only reason that I am even with child now is because you became drunk at her wedding feast and decided to visit my Chambers." she said.
Eric sighed.
"Does me having a mistress bother you this much?" he asked.
Matilda rolled her eyes.
"I do not care how many whores you have. I just ask that you respect me in some way. I am not just your wife now. I am your Queen." she said.
Before Eric could answer, Matilda winced and grabbed her stomach.
"My time has come. I need a midwife." she said.
Eric instructed the ladies-in-waiting to fetch help and he personally helped Matilda to her bed.
Matilda started to push as hard as she could. Her labor had progressed rapidly.
The midwife kept urging Matilda.
"You need to push harder, Your Majesty. The child is nearly here." she said.
Matilda nodded and pushed harder, clutching her rosary for comfort that used to belong to her maternal grandmother, Maria of Jülich-Berg.
As she felt another contraction, Matilda pushed as hard as she could. She wanted her child here and for this pain to finally go away. She suddenly felt a burning sensation between her legs and screamed out.
The midwife looked up.
"The head is delivered, Your Majesty. Do not lose the progress. Push, Your Majesty." she said.
Matilda, silently praying, pushed as hard as she could. She felt her child slide out of her and she fell back against her pillow. The midwife cut the cord and took the child away to be cleaned, while the ladies-in-waiting cleaned Matilda. Matilda was filled with relief, as she heard her newborn cry as it was being bathed in warm water.
Finally, the midwife brought the newly clean and whimpering infant over to Matilda.
"You have delivered a healthy girl, Your Majesty." she said.
Matilda smiled and took her swaddled newborn daughter in her arms.
"She is so beautiful." she said.
A few moments later, Eric walked in.
"Another daughter?" he asked
Matilda looked up and nodded.
"Yes and she is a beauty." she said.
Eric sighed.
"We need another son. Call her Lucretia. Get well soon, darling., " he said, as he walked out.
Matilda shook her head and kissed baby Lucretia on her forehead.
21 May 1562
Hampton Court, London, England
Edward, Prince of Wales' Chambers
Edward sighed, as he began to read more into his diplomacy books. He knew that he had much to catch up on, since he was not born to rule. He had been Prince of Wales for four years and he felt like he knew nothing about ruling. The only thing he felt that he did properly was he was married to his beloved Elisabeth of France and they were expecting a child in just five months time.
Edward was brought from his thoughts by a gentle knocking at his door.
"Come in." he said.
The door opened and his wife, Princess Elisabeth, walked in.
Edward smiled.
"What can I do for you, darling?" he asked.
Elisabeth came closer.
"I just wanted to see you. You have been locked away all day." she said.
Edward sighed.
"I am so sorry, sweetheart. My studies do preoccupy my time quite a bit. I hope you can forgive me." he said.
Elisabeth smiled.
"Of course I can. However, I do wish to see you more." she said.
Edward pushed his chair back from his desk.
"Come sit on my lap and let's talk." he said.
Elisabeth looked at her husband, in disbelief.
"Edward, my belly is starting to grow. I not wish hurt your leg." she said.
Edward shook his head.
"Nonsense. Come." he said, patting his leg.
Hesitantly, Elisabeth walked over and gently sat on Edward's knee and he grabbed her around her waist, gently resting his hand on the small bump in her stomach.
Edward smiled.
"In five months, we will be parents." he said.
Elisabeth rested her hand on his chest.
"I know you will be an amazing father." she said.
Edward smiled and began to kiss Elisabeth, while running his hands in her dark brown hair.
Suddenly, they heard someone clearing their throat. They both looked up and met the eyes of King Harry, Edward's father.
Elisabeth stood up and curtsied.
"Your Majesty." she said.
Harry smiled.
"Dear daughter, how are you feeling?" he asked.
Elisabeth smiled.
"The sickness has finally stopped." she said.
Harry smiled.
"Excellent. Would you mind if I spoke to Edward alone? Now that the Queen has taken to her Chamber, I am sure she would love your company." he said.
Elisabeth nodded and curtsied again.
"Of course, Your Majesty." she said, as she left the two men alone.
Edward cleared his throat.
"Father, I apologize..."
Harry held his hand up, as he sat down.
"There is no need. I can not tell you how many times your Mother was caught on my knee by advisors. Enjoy these times, my son and do not take them for granted." he said.
Edward nodded.
"Yes, Father." he said
Harry sighed.
"I am so happy that you and Elisabeth are having a child. I have to admit I did not expect her to conceive so quickly." he said.
Edward blushed.
"Elisabeth did not leave me much choice. She has a healthy appetite for our marital duties." he admitted.
Harry chuckled.
"If the result is healthy grandchildren, you will hear no complaints from me. Tell me, how do you feel about becoming a father?" he asked.
Edward sighed and stood up.
"Father, I can not lie. The entire Court is thrilled and pleased, but I am terrified. Once that child is born, it will be up to me to teach it everything about ruling one day and I do not have that knowledge yet." he said.
Harry stood up and sighed and walked to the window.
"Come here, son." he said.
Edward walked over to his father.
Harry smiled.
"Look outside." he said.
Edward looked out and he saw his four year old half-sister, Princess Mary, playing with the two of his Father's dogs. He smiled, as he adores his youngest sister and her precocious behavior.
Harry looked at his son.
"That is what you should be looking forward to with your child, not how they will govern. Let the child be a child. You are putting the child in the classroom before it even draws it's first breath. One thing at a time, son." he said.
Edward breathed and nodded.
"I will try to do better, Father." he said.
Harry nodded and began to walk out, but then stopped.
"I almost forgot. I will be meeting with our Army's generals and advisors and the Navy Captain. You need to learn how to control the military, so I require you to be in the Council Room first thing in the morning. Is that clear?" he asked.
Edward smiled.
"Yes, Father. I will be there." he said.
Harry nodded and left the room, leaving Edward feeling more confident in his future.
31 May 1562
Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria
Outside Isabella, Archduchess of Austria's Bedchamber
Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor winced, as he heard his daughter-in-law scream. Archduchess Isabella was in labor with her eleventh child. Ferdinand hoped that he was wrong,but he saw history repeating itself. His late wife, Anne of Bohemia and Hungary, had given birth to fifteen children I'm quick succession and she died four days after the birth of their last child at the age of forty-three.
Ferdinand watched his eldest son, Ferdinand, but called Andy, for short, pacing back and forth.
Ferdinand sighed.
"Son, please have a seat. You worrying like this will not move it any faster." he said.
Andy looked at his father.
"It has been so long. This is our eleventh child. It should go faster. She sounds like she is in so much pain." he said.
Ferdinand nodded.
"She has been through this many times. She will live. Children are the blessing and consequences of a happy marriage." he said.
Andy nodded his head.
Suddenly, Ferdinand's second wife, Anne of Denmark,Holy Roman Empress, walked in and put her hand on her husband's shoulder.. the forty year old was was also expecting another child with her husband as well, most likely their last.
"How is Isabella?" she asked.
Ferdinand touched her hand.
"She is still in the pains of childbirth." he said.
Suddenly, they heard Isabella give a very loud scream, which was followed by the loud cry of a wailing infant.
Andy looked towards the door and walked closer.
"The child is here." he said.
Several moments passed and finally, the midwife walked out, wiping her bloody hands.
She smiled at everyone.
"The Archduchess has given birth to yet another son. They are both doing well." she said.
Everyone smiled and thanked God for the safe delivery of yet another Hapsburg heir.
Andy looked at his father.
"We agreed that we would name our son Albert, if he was a boy. I want to stay with her. Would you make the announcement?" he said.
Ferdinand nodded.
"Yes, son. You may go." he said.
Andy left the room.
Anne kissed Ferdinand's cheek.
"I hope you will be that happy when this little one arrives." she said, rubbing her small swollen stomach.
Ferdinand smiled.
"Of course, darling. Of course." he said.
3 June 1562
Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria
The Banquet Hall
Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor and his wife, Anne of Denmark were smiling, as they watched the wedding festivities take place. Ferdinand's son, Archduke Charles, the new Duke of Tyrol and Anne's younger half-sister, Princess Sophia of Denmark and Norway, had just been married and everything was going according to plan.
Ferdinand leaned over to his wife.
"How is Sophia doing about being here?" he asked.
Anne smiled.
"She is doing well. Of course, she is worried about the wedding night, but she is also concerned about the matters of her Faith." she said.
Ferdinand nodded his head. Anne and Sophia's family in Denmark were Lutherans while the entire Hapsburg family were staunch Roman Catholics. The Pope had to issue a papal dispensation for the young couple to marry in the first place.
"I am sure she will be fine." he said.
As Anne were about to respond, both Charles and Sophia walked up.
Charles looked up at his father.
"Father, we will retire for the evening. We wanted to thank you for this magnificent feast." he said.
Ferdinand smiled.
"Of course son." he said.
Anne smiled at her younger sister.
"Come, Sophia. I will help prepare you for bed." she said.
Sophia smiled and took her older sister's hand.
The two sisters walked to Sophia's bridal bedchamber. Anne smiled, as she remembered her own wedding night to her beloved Ferdinand seven years earlier.
Sophia looked at her older sister.
"Charles is very passionate. He kept telling me how he wanted to be alone." she said blushing.
Anne smiled.
"Charles, to my knowledge, has never been with a woman. Now Sophia, you should know that our late father was not faithful to your mother, but he respected her very much." she said.
Sophia nodded. Their father, King Christian III of Denmark and Norway, had died in 1559 and Sophia was well aware that he was not faithful to her mother, Maria of Naples.
"I hope Charles and I will become closer friends." she said.
Anne smiled and stopped for a moment and placed a hand on her swollen stomach.
Sophia touched her.
"Are you well, Anne?" she asked.
Anne smiled.
"Yes. It is just age and the pregnancy. Soon it shall be you." she said.
Sophia nodded.
"Hopefully not to soon." she said.
Finally, they reached Sophia's Chambers, where the ladies-in-waiting were busy getting the Chambers ready for the anticipated wedding night.
Anne looked at her eighteen year old sister.
"Do you need my help with anything?" she asked.
Both the ladies heard several men get loud, signaling that Charles was making his way to his bride's bed.
Sophia sighed.
"No, Sister. I am ready." she said.
Anne kissed her hands.
"I am going to retire for the night. I will see you in the morning." she said.
Sophia smiled and entered her Bedchamber, preparing to be undressed by her new ladies-in-waiting for her wedding night. With one last smile, Anne took her leave and started to make her way to her Bedchamber.
10 June 1562
Hampton Court, London, England
Queen Lillian of England's Bedchamber
"Push, Your Majesty. You are doing well." the midwife said.
Lillian pushed again, trying her best to bring her second child into the world. Her labor pains had started the previous night and so far everything was going well. Lillian was praying that this child would survive. Besides her beloved four year old daughter, Princess Mary, Lillian lost another daughter after carrying her for only four months. She needed this child to survive.
Lady Mary Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk was holding her Queen's hand.
"You are doing well, Your Majesty. Soon, you will have your new child in youe embrace." she said.
Lilian smiled through her pain.
"I just want it to survive. I prayed for this baby." she said.
She felt another contraction and she pushed through it, silently praying that this pain would soon end.
The midwife urged the Queen more.
"You need to push harder, Your Majesty. The head is nearly delivered." she said.
Lillian nodded and continued to push harder. She could feel the burning sensation, meaning her child was nearly here.
After several more pushes, Lillian felt her child slide from her body and she smiled and had tears fall from her eyes, as she heard the infant's loud crying.
Lady Mary smiled.
"You did it, Your Majesty. Another child is born." she said.
Lillian nodded her head and smiled, trying to catch her breath.
The midwife smiled, as she brought the cooing infant to its mother.
"It is a boy, Your Majesty. A healthy baby boy!" she cried excitedly.
Lillian smiled and took her newborn son into her arms.
"Thank you, Lord. Thank you so much." she cried out.
Several moments later, King Harry walked in and smiled, with tears in his eyes.
"We have a son?" he asked.
Lillian nodded her head.
"I think he is perfect." she said.
Harry looked at the squirming brown-haired baby boy.
"I hope you know I will never take him away from you. You will have a say in his upbringing." he said.
Lillian nodded.
"You have told me, darling. Our son does need a name." she said.
Harry smiled.
"When you were expecting our little Mary, we talked on naming her Charles if she were a boy. I think our son should carry the name of your late father." he said.
Lillian, with tears in her eyes, kissed her son, Prince Charles, on his forehead, as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
11 June 1562
Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh, Scotland
Marie de Guise was on her way from her chambers to the throne room to meet with some important guests who had just arrived at Holyrood. She wasn't watching where she was going when she bumped into someone. Looking up, she saw her nephew, James, now Duke of Albany. He was the son of her late brother-in-law, Prince Arthur, and to her knowledge still held a grudge against her for his father's death, though it had been proven that Prince Arthur had not been pushed from the landing when he fell.
Neither of them spoke a word, though customarily, James would have apologized for the incident. He stared at her for a moment, then turned his back, not even bothering to bow to her, despite the fact that she was regent for her daughter, Mary, Queen of Scotland. Instead, he mumbled something under his breath as he started to walk away.
"Pardon?" she asked.
He turned back to her with a glaring look. "I said nothing."
"Your Majesty," Marie corrected.
"I am not the King. There is no need for that," Lord James snarked.
"I meant that you should refer to me as Your Majesty," Marie said calmly.
"You are not my Queen," James replied. "In fact, you are no longer even my aunt, so I owe you nothing."
"Excuse me?"
"There is no excuse for you or your behavior. You should be rotting in a jailcell right now for what you did to my father and spare me your excuses of how you didn't shove him from that landing," James yelled at her. "I am not as naïve as some of the Lords here. I know you hated my father for standing in the way of your dream to unite Scotland and France. Even if our Queen IS married to the King of France, the two nations will never stay united. No one here wants to be ruled by the French, no matter how it comes about, and we will fight to the end to make sure it never happens."
"I would strongly suggest that you listen to those who know better than you about ruling a nation," Marie spat at him. "The French people are at least cultured and civilized, which is more than I can say for the Scots."
"You call beheading people because their ideas don't align with yours civilized? You are little more than a mindless twit of a woman who shouldn't have ever been allowed to marry a King," he said, moving closer to her. Once he was nearly in her face, Marie stepped backwards towards the railing. "French whores have no place in Scottish royalty."
"Listen here, young man," Marie said sharply, "you may be angry about your father's death, but MY daughter was the one being forced to marry that English boy, and I wasn't even consulted despite being her only living parent. You know nothing of France. If you did, you would understand that a lady of my birth would never prostitute herself no matter what, and to refer to me as a French whore is uncalled for and uncivilized."
"I don't have to be civil with murderers," he said before shouting at her, "WHICH IS WHAT YOU ARE!" James took another step towards Marie with every word in anger, and she stepped back from him each time, until her back was pressing against the railing. With his final word, she leaned back, losing her balance and falling to the stone floor below, hitting her head with significant force. James rushed to look over to where she had fallen, then seeing the blood seeping from her skull, he ran from the room, hoping she would bleed to death, as his father had.
Lord James, Duke of Albany, may not have pushed the Dowager Queen over the railing, but he was definitely responsible for her actions that led to her fall. If anyone saw him, or heard their argument, he would be tried for the death of the regent, which might as well be the death of the Queen herself under Scottish law. He left the castle as quickly as possible and headed for the stables, where he proceeded to groom his horse as if he knew nothing about what happened inside the castle. With any luck, his secret would remain safe, and he could live the rest of his life in peace.
16 June 1562
Warwick Castle, Warwick, England
Lady Elizabeth Brandon, Duchess of Clarence's Chambers
Lady Elizabeth Fitzroy smiled, as she watched her four year old daughter, Lady Anne, played on the floor. Everyday she reminded her of her late father, William, Prince of Wales.
Little Anne walked up to hee mother and placed her hand in Elizabeth's swollen stomach.
"Mama, when will the baby come?" she asked.
Elizabeth smiled.
"Any day now, my darling." she said.
Suddenly, a man spoke.
"Hopefully soon."
Elizabeth looked and was face to face with her husband, Edmund Brandon, Duke of Clarence.
Anne smiled.
"Papa!" she yelled, as she ran and hugged Edmund.
He smiled and picked her up.
"How are you, my Annie?" he asked
Elizabeth smiled.
"Annie, let your Father and I talk. I am sure he brought you gifts from Court." she said.
Annie smiled and ran from the room with her governess.
Edmund looked at his wife.
"How is my other Princess?" he asked.
Elizabeth walked closer.
"Katherine had a slight temperature, but she's well now. She's asleep for the afternoon." she said.
Edmund nodded. Little Katherine Brandon was Edmund and Elizabeth's two year old daughter together.
"Good. I saw your Father at Court. He asked how you and the girls were doing." he said.
Elizabeth sighed.
"If he was truly concerned, he would visit us. It has been four years. He didn't even visit when Katherine was born." she said.
Edmund sighed.
"He will come around." he said
Suddenly, Elizabeth felt a pain in her stomach.
"Edmund, I need my midwife." she said.
Edmund nodded and ran out of the room, after helping Elizabeth to her bed.
Several hours later...
The midwife was washing her bloody hands and smiling. She had been waiting for this day, since her employment by the Duchess of Clarence.
She walked over to Lady Elizabeth, as she was holding her newborn child.
The midwife smiled.
"How is the future Duke of Clarence, My Lady?" she asked.
Elizabeth smiled.
"He is perfect. Show the Duke in please." she said
The midwife nodded and left the room. A few moments later, Edmund walked in.
"He looks perfect. We have a son. I am happy, Elizabeth." he said.
Elizabeth smiled.
"You have an heir." she said.
Edmund smiled.
"We will call him Edward, after your father. I will write to him, so he can meet his first grandson." he said.
Elizabeth smiled.
"Thank you so much." she said.
18 June 1562
France
A knock on the door to her chambers startled the Queen of France. Mary had been deep in thought while writing a letter to her mother, Marie de Guise, the Dowager Queen of Scotland and her acting regent while she was in France concerning the recent issues arising in Scotland. It had been a harsh winter for the farmlands in her native country and people were starting to feel the pinch that accompanied such things. Mary knew she had to act, but she was unsure how to proceed in order to best help her people. She looked up at the door and said, "Enter."
The messenger was dressed in the customary kilts of her homeland, so she knew the message was from Scotland immediately. The young man bowed to his Queen, "Your majesty."
"And you are?" Queen Mary questioned.
"Lord Duncan McCreedy," he replied. "I come bearing a message of utmost importance and was instructed to deliver it into your hands and no one else's."
"Hand me the message Lord McCreedy, and accept my thanks for your safe deliverance of it. Please go to the kitchens and give them my instructions to prepare a meal for you and to instruct the chamber maids to prepare guest lodgings for you within the east wing," Mary answered. The young man did as he was ordered, bowed and left the room.
Mary turned her back to the door and was about to open the message from Scotland when her husband, the King of France, walked in the door. Mary jumped again at the sounds she was not expecting to hear from the intrusion. "Francis!" she exclaimed. "You startled me!"
Francis grabbed his wife and picked her up, twirling her around, before embracing her in a long, passionate kiss. "What's all this?" Mary asked when he released her.
"Nothing. Nothing at all," he said. "Can't a husband be happy and show that happiness to his wife?"
"Of course," she replied, softly, putting her hands on his chest.
Francis noticed the letter in her hand and was curious. "What's this?"
"Some message from Scotland," she replied. "A messenger brought it just before you came in."
This peaked Francis' curiosity. Normally, his wife received messages from Scotland in groups twice a month. This was sent by special means and it must be something very urgent.
Mary opened the letter and began to read. Tears formed in her eyes and she dropped the letter before nearly fainting. Francis caught her and helped her to their bed, sitting with her and holding her in his arms.
"Mary?"
"My mother," she began.
"Yes? What about her?"
"She's dead Francis. My mother is dead. That was from my Uncle, Prince Victor, requesting my immediate presence in Scotland to appoint a new regent and oversee a new government," Mary said through her tears. Francis looked at her in shock. Of all the news that could have come, this was not what he was expecting. Mary's mother was still young compared to some.
"Did it say what caused her death?"
"Nothing specific. Just that she had died suddenly, and I was needed," Mary replied. "I must go to Scotland."
"Mary . . ." Francis began.
"No Francis, I have to go. I must set up a new council and new regency to act on my behalf while I am here in France."
"I know, but . . ." the King of France said, looking at his wife, who was taking this news rather calmly. He would not be so collected had it been his own mother.
"There are no buts, my love." This was the Queen talking and not his wife. She was the ruler of two nations and she knew how to handle herself. "I will return as soon as possible, but it may be a lengthy process. I'm sure that you can manage things here without me for a time."
"Mary . . ."
"Francis, my mind is made up and my country needs me there, not here. We knew this could happen when we married, and it has happened. I have to go to Scotland. . . now."
"Mary would you just listen?" Francis said at his wits end, trying to tell her what he was going to say.
"What?"
"We can leave in two days. Both of us. I will go inform my mother of what's happened and she can manage things in France while we do what needs to be done in Scotland, and while you say goodbye to your mother," Francis said without taking a breath before she could interrupt again.
"Francis . . . you mean you will go with me?"
"Yes."
"To Scotland?"
"Yes, to Scotland. I won't let you go through this alone. That's not what marriage is about."
"Oh Francis," Mary sighed. "I couldn't have asked for a better husband." She leaned into his chest and cried for a long while. He sat there and held her, unwilling to let her go until she was ready.
After a time, Mary rose from her spot on their bed and went to the door. Her page was there. "Pierre, get my ladies and ask them to come here immediately. I know it's late, but this is urgent."
"Yes Majesty," he bowed and left to do as he was told.
Within moments, Mary's ladies, all of them also named Mary formally speaking, were gathered in their bedchambers, and Mary had sent her page to gather the young messenger that had brought the news. They were surprised to be summoned at the hour it was, but more surprised that King Francis was also in attendance of the meeting.
"We are leaving for Scotland in two days. My mother, the Dowager Queen, is dead. I must set up a new government to rule for me while I am here in France," Mary informed her ladies. All four of them began to silently cry and nodded their heads. "We must spend today packing for the trip. Our King will be travelling with us, as well."
The door opened again and Lord McCreedy walked in.
"Majesty," he said, bowing to his Queen. "You sent for me?"
"Lord McCreedy, I need you to return to Scotland immediately. Tell my Uncle Victor that I am leaving for Scotland in two days' time and will be there with all haste."
"Yes, your Majesty." Lord McCreedy bowed before leaving the room.
"Get some sleep ladies," Mary ordered. "We have a long voyage ahead of us."
5 July 1562
Scotland
When Queen Mary left Scotland to marry the Dauphin of France, she never imagined that she would be returning to her native land once he became King of France, or at least not this soon after his coronation. In a world where men dominated, a reigning Queen would often visit her country once a year, but her husband's nation took precedence, while a regent ruled her own. Mary's regent was her mother, after her Uncle Arthur had died. But in the aftermath of her mother's death, she and Francis had made the trip to Scotland to reestablish her rule and set up another regent to act in her name.
It took weeks to travel across the channel from France to Scotland, but they finally landed, and Mary was glad of it. She never had a problem sailing before, but this time, the waves and weather overcame them and made the voyage rough. She spent most of the time on board in their cabin. Luckily, the sun had come out from behind its cloud cover, and it felt good to be on dry land again.
They were met by twenty-four palace guards, who had also arranged for carriages for their party. There were four carriages in all, and Francis helped his wife into the middle one, with her ladies in the lead carriage, while their servants followed in the third. The fourth, though it was enclosed, had no seating and was used for their trunks and other belongings.
As was customary, Mary and Francis were dressed in their finest clothing, not only for the trip, but out of respect for her mother's memory. Mary and her mother had not always gotten along, but she was the only parent that the young queen of Scotland could remember. Mary couldn't help but wonder what her grandmother, the late Queen Margaret of Scotland, would have thought about today, and her granddaughter's return.
The ride to Holyrood was without incident, and the entourage was met by the traditional fanfare. Servants poured out of the castle to unload the luggage and take it to the Queen's tower. They were amused and shocked that the King's tower of the enormous palace would not be used, but their Queen insisted that she and her husband share a bedroom. After the luggage was settled and the royal couple had a moment to gather their thoughts, they went to the throne room of the castle, and Mary gave Francis the grand tour of her home.
Francis was impressed, seeing the style of architecture that was used. It was different from what he was used to in France, but it was quite beautiful regardless. Mary showed him the abbey ruins where her late grandparents were buried, as well as the graves of her two brothers and her father. He was surprised to learn that Marie would not be entombed beside him, as she was the Queen who gave him his heir, but Mary told him that it was her father's wish to be buried by his first wife, the late Queen Madeleine, who was born a French Princess. Her mother, Marie de Guise, was to be buried beside her two sons, on the opposite side from where her husband was resting.
"I don't understand why he would choose to be separated from her like that," Francis confided in his wife.
Mary nodded. "My father cared for my mother, obviously," she told him, "But Madeleine was his first love. Some would say she was his only true love." Mary's voice went soft when she spoke of their relationship. It was clear that it bothered her, but she didn't elaborate on it.
Francis took her hand in his, kissing it softly. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" he asked. "I won't judge you."
Mary smiled slightly at her husband. "I just don't understand how someone who was so deeply in love could remarry after the death of their spouse," Mary said. "I know that if anything happened to you, I would never consider it, even if it meant that my line would end."
Francis looked at her with all the admiration he could muster. "If anything did happen to me, I would want you to move on and to love again," he told her. "You have so much warmth inside you, it would be wrong not to share it with the world, Mary."
"I know we only met a few years ago when we were betrothed," she began, "but you've filled my life with so much happiness that I don't know how to explain it. I love you with all of my heart, Francis."
"As I love you, my darling," he said, kissing her forehead, gently. Mary looked at where her father lay sleeping in the floor of the ancient abbey, then turned to lead her husband back into the palace. As she did so, she stumbled and lost her balance, which was unlike her. Luckily, Francis was there and caught her in his arms before she could hit the floor.
"Mary!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"
She looked at him and nodded, but her smile was uncertain. "I'm fine. I was lightheaded for a moment," she told him. "It must be the excitement of the day combined with the sorrow of what this place represents."
Francis nodded, then scooped his wife into his arms and carried her back to their room. As he laid her on the bed, he put his hand on her cheek. "You rest," he ordered. "I will have our meal sent here."
"No," Mary objected. "I'm alright."
"Even if it is just excitement and sorrow, you are not alright," he told her. "You are overwhelmed, and I want you to rest. We have a busy day tomorrow between your mother's funeral and the council meetings to set up for a new regency. You need to be on top of your game tomorrow when you face your Lords."
Mary nodded, giving in. "Alright," she agreed. Francis left the room to arrange for the change in their meal, and Mary turned over on her side. She felt another wave of dizziness come over her. It worried her a little, as she was never really sick as a child, and dismissed it as being overwhelmed, as Francis had suggested. By the time the King had returned, Mary was fast asleep. It had been a long day, and there was a longer one coming tomorrow, so he covered her and let her rest, kissing her forehead, then he went to sit watch by the fire to ensure the Queen of Scots was truly alright.
10 July 1562
Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh, Scotland
Mary, Queen of Scots, was at a loss. Her mother had just been laid to rest next to her father, and she was trying, unsuccessfully, to deal with setting up a new regent for Scotland while she was in France with her husband, King Francis. Her council was not making the task any easier. They each had their own ideas of who should be the regent and a few even wanted Mary to remain in Scotland and rule in person, despite the fact that she was also Queen of France. She knew she could not favor Scotland, but she longed to take charge of her nation and bring them back into a period of glory.
"Your Majesty," one of her councilmen began.
"Lord Flemming," she acknowledged, allowing the man to be recognized.
"I understand, as most of us do, that you cannot remain in Scotland permanently," he said, "but we need our Queen as much, if not more, than France does. These are harsh times, your Grace, with the infighting between Catholics and Protestants, and I fear that as the Protestant religion gains numbers, the fighting will worsen."
"As do I," Mary replied, "but I don't know what can be done about it. What a man or woman believes in their heart to be true about our Savior and our Heavenly Father is not mine to dictate, nor is it anyone's."
"Doesn't that authority come from the Pope?" Lord James, Duke of Albany, and the son of the late Prince Arthur asked.
"Technically speaking," Mary answered, "it does, but if a man believes that Rome is corrupt, he has a right to save his soul from the fires of hell."
The councilmen looked at one another. Their Queen was young, but wise. A man's soul should never be put at risk and no one, not even the Pope himself had the right to ask another man to risk their soul for any reason. One theory on the existence of Protestantism was just that; the idea that Rome was misinterpreting the Bible in exchange for power on earth, and in doing so, they were corrupting the souls of thousands. Who was Mary to tell anyone that they had to follow something that they believed to be corrupt?
"Religious matters aside, Majesty," the Duke of Albany said, "I still believe that Prince Victor would be the best candidate to lead this council in your absence. He is tolerant, as much as any Catholic should be, and he knows the laws concerning religious matters, as well as our culture."
Mary nodded. "Thank you for your suggestion, my Lord Albany," Mary said. She looked at her uncle. Prince Victor was one of her father's three surviving siblings, and although he was getting along in years, he still had a sharp mind. "What say you, your Highness? Is it a job you are willing to accept?"
Victor looked at his niece. He did not want the job, per say, but he knew that Scotland needed a strong regent that would serve both the Crown and God to the best of their ability. "If the Crown sees fit to honor me with the position of regent, I will do my best to serve, Majesty," he said, bowing his head to his niece.
"Majesty," Lord Livingston responded.
"Lord Livingston," Mary acknowledged.
"Your Grace, the people here, those who are of the Protestant faith, do not want a Catholic regent leading them," he informed her. "They want someone who shares their own faith so they can live free of the fear that they will be persecuted by agents of the Crown."
"I understand that, my Lord," she replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot always make everyone happy and must choose what is best. . ." her voice trailed off. Mary wasn't sure what was going on, but she suddenly felt light headed. She reached back to steady herself with the arms of her chair at the table, but only one hand made contact with it. Within seconds, every man in the room was on his feet, and Francis was at her side, steadying her.
"Mary?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I'm alright," she responded. "I just felt faint for a moment." She smiled at him, but it was negated by the second wave that rushed over her, and she leaned back into her husband's arms.
Francis looked at the members of his wife's council. "Gentlemen, I would suggest that this meeting be adjourned until a physician can attend the Queen," he said. Everyone nodded their agreement, and he, along with her uncles helped her to their bedchamber, while her cousin, Lord Albany, went to find the doctor. Within moments, the royal physician was at their door, as were Mary's ladies.
Once the doctor cleared the room of all but her ladies, the four men paced the hall outside, worried for their Queen, but Francis was even more anxious. Mary was his world. He hoped nothing was seriously wrong with her. He tried to tell himself that it was the emotional drain of her mother's death, along with the journey to Scotland and the lack of sleep since trying to decide on a new regent, but in the end, he just made his own anxiety over her condition worse. He finally gave up and stood in front of the window, staring out at the vastness of Scotland, the land that gave him his wife, and now, may be taking her from him far too young.
Nearly an hour passed before the doctor emerged from their chambers. He nodded at the men, then told Francis he could go inside. Mary was laying in bed, having been thoroughly examined. She had a compress against her head, but the color was back in her cheeks. She smiled at Francis as he approached, sitting on the bed next to her.
Francis took one of her hands into his and kissed it. "What did the doctor say?"
Mary smiled at her husband. "He said I will be fine but has ordered me to stay in bed for a few days to get some rest."
"What happened?" Francis asked.
"Apparently I am overly tired from everything that has happened recently," Mary told him.
"Is that all?"
"Not exactly."
Francis stared at his wife, waiting for a further response from her.
Mary smiled at her husband, nearly giggling. "Apparently, in about five months, you will also be a father, God willing."
Francis looked at her. "I'm. . . we're. . . I mean, you. . ." he stumbled over every sentence he tried to speak.
Mary just nodded. "Francis, there is a slight complication though," she told him. "According to the physician, the fainting could mean that travel would be dangerous for both the babe and I. He recommended that we stay in Scotland until the child is born."
Francis looked at her stomach, which somehow looked more round to him now. He didn't understand how he didn't notice it before. He nodded. "I will write to my mother immediately, explaining what happened, and issue a decree that she continue as regent for France while we are here." Mary was surprised that he gave in that easily. "What? Did you honestly think that I would risk either of you for the sake of having our child born in France? Mary, I may be a lot of things, but I am not heartless. You are my world, and this child is a living symbol of the love I feel for you." He kissed her gently, then laid down next to her.
Mary cuddled up beside him, smiling, and running her fingers through his hair. He drifted off to sleep, and she lay there for a time wondering what their child would look like, and if he or she would be healthy. She also made a note in her mind to prepare her will in the next few days just in case. She knew that women sometimes did not survive childbirth, and if it was her time, she wanted her child to inherit everything. She would also leave an order that Francis was to act as regent for their child, without question. She knew she could not control the outcome of her pregnancy any more than she could have before, but she would do everything possible to ensure this child survived. He or she was the future King or Queen of Scotland, and that was a future worth protecting at all costs.
15 July 1562
Jeronimos Monastery, Lisbon, Portugal
Lisbon was on fire with excitement. Today, a new monarch would be crowned, but it would be different than before. Today, Portugal would formally acknowledge the coronation of its first reigning Queen, Catarina I.
The city streets were decorated with the Aviz coat of arms, along with the royal standards of Portugal. People from all over the nation had journeyed to Lisbon just to watch the new Queen pass by with her family, her guards, and her ladies. Some were laughing and enjoying themselves. Others were apprehensive. Catarina was young; she had spent several years in Spain with her husband, never expecting to take the throne. Those who opposed the idea of a female monarch were only comforted by the fact that she was married and had produced a male heir to the throne as her firstborn, which was considered a good sign in the eyes of her people. However, the day was about her coronation and recognition of the fact that she was indeed the Queen of Portugal, and with her husband at her side, the attitudes of her people were somewhat eased.
The royal procession made its way to the monastery, which was still under construction, but the inner chapel had been completed and Catarina was determined that she would be crowned there as her father had. The royal guards were dressed in their finest uniforms, and the officers were riding the white stallions that had come from Arabia as gifts for her great-grandfather when he was crowned. There were twelve in all, decorating the street with dignity and honor. They were followed by twenty-four soldiers on foot, all marching in step with one another. They were followed by one of the royal carriages where the Queen's ladies were seated, then another which held Prince Sebastian, heir to the throne and his guards. The Queen and King, Catarina and Juan, were in the third carriage, and the fourth held her mother, her sister, the Princess Isabel, and her other sister, Princess Joana and her husband, Prince Manuel de Silva, Prince and Princess of Eboli. The Dowager Princess of Portugal, Maria, had elected not to attend the coronation.
When the entourage arrived at the monastery, the Queen and King were escorted from their carriage first, followed by Prince Sebastian, and then the remainder of Catarina's family. She and Juan were shown into a side room of the chapel where they could gather their thoughts, while her family was seated in the main room where the coronation would take place. Catarina sat in a seat by the only window in the room, breathing deeply.
"Darling," Juan began, kneeling in front of his wife, "are you alright?"
Catarina nodded. She was nauseous and somewhat lightheaded, but she didn't want to worry her husband. She had found out yesterday from the midwife that she was expecting another child and the baby would be born in early February, but she hadn't told Juan yet. She sighed, thinking that now was as good of a time as any. "I found out yesterday that I am expecting another child, Juan," she told him. "It's just the typical early signs."
Juan looked at her for a moment, then at her stomach. He placed a hand on hers and smiled. "Then we are truly blessed," he said. "Will you make the announcement tonight at the ball?"
"No," Catarina told him. "I want to wait until the child has moved first." He nodded. "Are you pleased?"
"I couldn't be happier," he admitted. "I have a beautiful wife who is about to become the Queen of her nation, three healthy children and another one soon to join this world, God willing. What more could I want?"
Catarina smiled at him playfully. "I don't know," she said, teasingly. "All of the coffee you could drink?"
Juan laughed at her teasing him over his new obsession. He had recently been introduced to the drink by some sailors and he loved it. Their laughter abated as a knock came at the door. "Enter," Juan commanded. The door opened and a guard stepped into the room, bowing.
"Yes?" Catarina asked.
"Majesty," the young man said, "it is time."
Catarina stood and nodded. She took Juan's arm and followed her husband out of the room towards the chapel. She signaled the guards to open the doors, and they did so, allowing their Queen and King to enter the room and make their way towards the dais. The members of the Portuguese Cortes bowed as the royal couple passed them, symbolizing their obedience to the crown.
The coronation ceremony was long, and by the time Catarina had been crowned Queen, the sun was starting to set. Juan helped his wife to their carriage, and they returned to the palace where the ball was to take place. Not long after the first dance of the evening, Catarina looked at her husband, excusing herself, then retired to their chambers. It was tradition that the new monarch remain with their guests throughout the night, and many in the room wondered what was going on with their new Queen. Rumors flew around the room until finally something had to be done. King Juan looked for his mother-in-law to ask her advice on how to handle the situation.
Mary, the Queen Mother, was thrilled to learn of her new grandchild. "It's simple," she told Juan, "make a statement thanking everyone for coming to the coronation and the ball this evening, then tell them that the Queen is in good health and is expecting a child. I understand why she wants to wait, but it is better in this situation to let the court know what is going on than to have them speculate."
Juan nodded, then did as she suggested. "Ladies and gentlemen of the court," he said, taking his place on the dais, "if I may have your attention, please." He waited until most of the courtiers had turned to face him, then continued. "The Queen and I would like to thank everyone for their attendance this evening and we hope that you are all enjoying yourselves. Many have wondered why the Queen has excused herself already. She is not shirking our long-standing traditions, I assure you." He paused for a moment. "It is my pleasure to inform you that our beloved Queen is with child once more, and God willing, the babe will arrive in early February. She has been advised to rest as much as possible in these early weeks for the child's safety and excused herself to follow that advice. There is nothing more to it than that. So please, continue to enjoy yourselves this evening and pray for our Queen and the babe that is to come."
The members of the court looked at one another and then applauded loudly. The coronation of a new monarch who had already provided a male heir to the throne, along with two beautiful princesses, was nothing to be sad about, but the addition of another child to the royal family was a blessing, and one that filled those at court with a new sense of hope for the future.
26 July 1562
Guadalajara, Castile, Spain
The Royal Progress
The sun was beating down on everyone traveling with King Luis and Queen Elizabeth of Spain. King Luis had wanted to do a progress. Accompanying the Court were the two eldest children of the King and Queen, eleven year old Infanta Isabel and seven year old Infante Eduardo, Prince of Asturias.
Queen Elizabeth rode her white horse and smiled.
"It is beautiful here." she said.
Luis rode beside her.
"I wish you would have been in the litter with the children. You should not be riding your horse in your condition." he said.
Elizabeth sighed and placed her hand on her slightly swollen stomach. She was due to give birth to her seventh child in four months time.
"Luis, I am fine. I promise." she said.
Luis looked at his wife and noticed her wince a little and grab her back.
"Lord Diego!" he called out.
Diego Mendoza, Duke of the Infantado, rode up on his horse.
"Yes, Your Majesty?" he asked.
Luis looked at the older man.
"How far away is your estate?" he asked.
"It is just over the hill, Your Majesty. I am sure that our house could accommodate the Court and the Queen will be able to rest." Diego said.
Before Elizabeth could protest, Luis held his hand up.
"We have been riding these horses since dawn. They need a rest as well, especially with this heat. Also, I see storm clouds in the distance." he said.
Elizabeth sighed.
"Very well." she said.
Palace of the Infantado
Queen Elizabeth of Spain's Bedchamber
Elizabeth sat in a chair and was trying to catch her breath, wondering why she was in slight pain.
Luis walked in and kissed Elizabeth's cheek.
"The children are settled in for the night, darling. " he said.
Elizabeth smiled.
"Good. I apologize for having us travel so long, I just wanted all of Spain to see us. A monarch must be seen in order to be respected." she said.
Luis nodded.
"That is true. However, I need you to remember that you are with child. Your health is important as well." he said.
Elizabeth nodded her head.
"I promise I will be more careful." she said.
Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder and the couple could hear the storm raging through the night.
Luis smiled.
"Let us lay down and enjoy the storm." he said.
Elizabeth stood up from her chair, but was suddenly overcome by pain and fell to her knees.
Luis dropped by her side.
"Sweetheart?" he asked.
She grabbed her stomach and felt between her legs. When she looked at her hand, her palm was covered in crimson blood.
She looked at Luis, in fear.
"The baby!" she cried.
Luis, in a panic, ran to the door.
"SANCHA! HELP! THE QUEEN NEEDS HELP!" he cried out.
Several Hours Later...
Elizabeth had tears in her eyes, as Sancha bathed her sweaty forehead. She had lost her baby. She had failed Luis and Spain.
"It is my fault." she cried.
Sancha tried to soothe her friend.
"No, Your Majesty. Try to relax." she said, holding her hand.
Elizabeth looked over and saw Princess Giovanna wrapping her stillborn baby in a white cloth.
"Giovanna?" she called weakly.
Giovanna looked at her friend.
Elizabeth slightly sat up.
"Was it a boy or a girl?" she asked.
Giovanna sighed.
"A girl." she said.
Elizabeth sighed and began to cry. Her daughter was dead. She was born before her time and she knew it was her fault.
Luis walked in, once the midwife told him he could. He saw Giovanna pass him, holding the baby and he made a sign of the Cross.
He walked up to Elizabeth and hugged her, as she cried.
"Oh, Luis. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I beg of you. Our daughter is dead because of my stubbornness." she sobbed.
Luis tried to quiet her.
"Sweetheart, it is not your fault. I do not blame you. I do not want you to ever think that." he said.
Elizabeth continued to cry. She hopes that God and her poor innocent child would forgive her.
31 July 1562
Windsor, Berkshire, England
Lady Rose Tudor, Baroness of Window's Chambers
Lady Rose smiled, as she watched her three year old, Lord Edmund, playing with their dog on the floor. She was resting her hand on her swollen stomach. After three years at sea, her beloved husband, Lord John Tudor, returned home in September 1561. He finally got to meet their son, who she had given birth to while he away. Now, ten months after his return, she was expecting their second child any day now.
Lord John walked up and kissed Rose on her cheek.
"I missed this so much. When I was at sea, I missed you so much. I am so sorry you gave birth alone." he said.
Rose smiled.
"I am not angry or resentful, sweetheart. I prayed everyday for you and when you came home, I was overwhelmed with joy." she said.
John smiled and looked at his son. It took the little boy awhile to warm up to his father, but now the two were inseparable.
Little Edmund walked up to John and hugged him.
"My Papa." he said.
John kissed his son.
"Do you think you want to go to Court anytime soon?" he asked his wife, while holding their little boy.
Rose sighed.
"I am not sure. I love it here on our estate." she said.
Suddenly, Rose felt a sharp pain and began to take deep breaths.
"I think you need to fetch the midwife and take Eddy to the nursery." she said.
John, not wanting to startle his son, nodded his head and did what his wife asked
Later that night...
Rose was sweating and breathing hard, listening to her newborn's loud cry. Her labor had been without complications and she was freshly bathed and laying on clean sheets.
The midwife carried the newborn over to Rose.
"You have a healthy daughter, Your Grace." she said.
Rose smiled, as she took her newborn daughter in her arms.
"Oh, she is beautiful." she said.
The baby girl let out a contented coo.
Rose kissed her daughter's forehead.
Several moments later, John walked in and smiled.
"I hear we have a daughter." he said.
Rose smiled and nodded.
"Are you pleased?" she asked.
John nodded.
"Of course I am. She is the first child I am here for at birth. I am excited to have her and Eddy growing up. Now, our daughter needs a name." he said
Rose looked at her.
"I was thinking Katherine, but I think she looks like a Katrina." she said.
John looked at his daughter.
"Lady Katrina Tudor it is." he said.
2 August 1562
Sintra Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
Queen Catarina of Portugal"s Bedchamber
Queen Catarina opened her eyes, as she hears the rain outside. She was in her early days of being Queen and she knew that there was as an uphill battle ahead of her. Being the first Queen Regnant of Portugal was not favorable to some of the nobles in her land.
She felt a shift by her side. She turned around saw her husband, King Juan, sleeping beside her. She moved closer to his naked body for warmth. Ever since her coronation, he had not said much to her.
She sighed and shook him gently.
"Juan? Are you awake?" she whispered.
Juan stirred and opened his eyes.
"I am now. What is the matter?" he asked.
Catarina sighed.
"There are whispers that people aren't too happy I am Queen. I need to know how you feel. You have barely said anything to me.
He looked at her.
"I am a Consort. What I say does not matter." he said.
Catarina looked at him.
"That is not true. You are not a Consort. We are co-rulers, but I am the legitimate ruler and you are the number one member of my Council. However, You are given the same respect as King. Portuguese Law states that in the event of having a Queen, her husband will only be proclaimed as King, if they manage to have an heir. You will be King as long as I am alive. You also can lead our Army. If I precede you in death, Sebastian will become King. You will still have the title, but not active power. I promise you that if you support me,I will make sure you have that respect." she said.
Juan gave her a small smile and caressed her face.
"I will always support you. You never have to worry about that. My grandmother ruled Spain in her own right for over fifty years. I admit I was a bit jealous, because I was not given power in my family. However, being here for you is exactly what I want. I will do what I have to for you." he said.
Catarina kisses him passionately. Juan melted into her fiery passion, his hand in her long dark hair, holding her nude body.
However, he stopped kissing her and looked at her.
"Catarina, you must do something about Maria. She has supporters in Portugal. I know she is your brother's widow, but she is a threat. What if she is plotting something against you? We must know what it is." he said.
Catarina sighed.
"I think I know a way to find out what she is up to." she said.
Juan nodded.
"That is good. What is it?" he asked.
Catarina looked at him.
"You." she said.
Juan looked at Catarina, in confusion.
"How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.
Catarina looked at him, with a certain look in her bright blue eyes.
Juan shook his head, in disbelief.
"You can not be serious? You want me to seduce her?" he asked.
Catarina nodded.
"It is not easy, however she has been alone for over two years and you are very attractive. If you take notice of her, then she could potentially confide in you how she feels. Despite my feelings toward her, I do not want to chase shadows of something that may not be there." she said.
Juan sighed.
"You may be right. I just do not want to lose your love again." he said.
Catarina took his hand, kissed it and held it to her face.
"You have never lost my love. I do not consider this as an affair, because we are both securing the Throne not just for me, but for our son. The only thing I ask is please do not feelings about her. This is strictly about finding out if she is a threat or just simply an annoyance." she said.
Juan nodded his and took a deep breath.
"I will do anything for you, our children and Portugal. I love you." he said.
Catarina caressed his face.
"I have always loved you and always will." she said.
7 August 1562
Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria
The Council Room
Ferdinand sighed. The fifty-nine year old Holy Roman Emperor had just met with important dignitaries from Tuscany for several hours. He was growing tired of these official meetings, but he would never abdicate his role.
He looked up as his eldest son, Archduke Ferdinand, but known as Andy, walked in accompanied by his wife, Archduchess Isabella.
Ferdinand stood and smiled at the young couple.
"Thank you both for being here. I wanted to talk to you both." he said.
Andy nodded.
"Of course, Father. What can we do for you?" he asked.
Ferdinand sighed.
"There has been a marriage offer for little Elisabeth." he said.
Andy and Isabella looked at Ferdinand, in surprise. Elisabeth was their four year old daughter.
Isabella took a step forward.
"Who would she be marrying?" she asked.
Ferdinand looked at her.
" Pietro de Medici, the Grand Prince of Tuscany. He's the son of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. He is also four years old." he said.
Isabella sighed. She knew that several of her daughters would leave Austria, but it still hurt her.
Ferdinand smiled at her.
"She doesn't have to depart for Tuscany until she is eighteen years old. We still have time with her." he said, in a comforting tone.
Andy nodded.
"I am assuming that the dowry will be substantial. The Medici are a very wealthy family and Elisabeth will have great prestige in the Italian States." he said.
Ferdinand nodded.
"Yes. They also want our fortune to be secured with the Medici Bank." he said.
Isabella looked at her uncle/father-in-law, in shock.
"They want to handle the entire fortune of the Empire?" she asked.
Ferdinand nodded.
"It is not unthinkable. They have handled the Papal account for an entire century now. I will have to think about that. Now, you two talk about it. I need to rest." he said.
Suddenly the door opened and Empress Anne walked in.
"Am I interrupting?" she asked.
Ferdinand smiled amd shook his head.
"No, darling. Come on in." he said, standing from his chair.
Andy and Isabella smiled at Anne and walked out of the room.
Ferdinand kisses Anne.
"How are you, my darling?" he asked.
Anne sighed, putting her hand on her swollen stomach.
"I feel like barge." she said.
Ferdinand rested his hand on her stomach.
"It will be over in just two months time. We will have a healthy baby." he said.
Annie signed.
"I can not bear another loss." she said.
Ferdinand took his wife by the arms. I'm 1560, Anne had discovered she was pregnant for the third time. Upon the delivery, it became very complicated and it was discovered she was carrying twins. After the ordeal, twin boys arrived, bur only one, Archduke Christoph, survived and was now two years old.
Ferdinand kissed her.
"This will most likely be our final child. I assure you it will survive. Do not fret, darling." he said.
Anne sighed and just hugged her husband, praying he was right.
21 August 1562
Sintra Palace, Lisbon, Portugal
The Gardens
Infanta Maria, Dowager Princess of Portugal sat on a stone bench, reading a book that her late husband had given her shortly before he had died. She missed Duarte and their daughter very much every day. She was staying in Portugal for now, because they were buried here.
"Maria?" she heard a voice say.
She looked up and saw King Juan standing in front of her.
She stood up and bowed to him.
"Your Majesty." she said, slightly aggravated.
Juan nodded.
"How are you on this fine summer day?" he asked.
Maria sighed.
"You think this is a fine day? I have not had a good day for a very long time." she said.
Juan nodded.
"What troubles you?" he asked
Maria rolled her eyes.
"Please do not pretend to care for my pain. Your wife loves to see me suffer." she said.
Juan nodded his head.
"I agree. Catarina is a hateful, selfish bitch." he said.
Maria looked at him, in surprise.
"You do not mean that, do you?" she asked.
Juan nodded.
"I certainly do. She was crowned Queen without me by her side. I received a Proclamation and that was it. It makes me mad." he said.
Maria looked at Juan. She did not know that he felt this way, especially since Queen Catarina was currently carrying their fourth child, who was due in just six month's time.
"I am sorry that you feel that way, Your Majesty. Since I also suffer at the hands of your wife, if you ever need a friend, I am here for you." she said.
Juan smiled.
"You are very sweet. I thank you." he said, as he kissed her hand.
Maria blushed and smiled, as Juan walked away. She did not expect King Juan to be so kind to her. She had not had much time to get to know him. She also did not notice how handsome he was until now.
29 August 1562
Hampton Court, London, England
Elisabeth, Princess of Wales' Bedchamber
Princess Elisabeth stood near her window, watching the thunderstorm rage over the London countryside. Her hand was resting on her swollen stomach. She still found it hard to believe that I'm just two months time she would become a mother, despite the fact that she was not even eighteen years old yet
Without her noticing, Edward walked in and smiled at his pregnant wife. From this particular view, she looked like an Angel.
He walked up behind her and hugged her from behind, resting his hands on her stomach.
"How are you, my love?" he asked.
Elisabeth smiled and leaned back little into his embrace.
"I am well. I am just watching the storm." she said.
Edward looked out the window.
"It can be soothing. It is almost as if God is blessing us and letting everything grow." he said.
Elisabeth smiled and turned around.
"What brings you here this early in the day?" she asked.
Edward smiled and held up a letter.
"A letter from your brother was sent to my household by mistake and I thought I would deliver it personally to you." he said.
Elisabeth took the letter, in excitement.
"Maybe my sister has been returned home." she said.
She opened the letter and began to read. As she continued to read, her eyes opened in shock.
Edward took her by the shoulder.
"Is something wrong?" he asked
Elisabeth shook her head.
"No. It is my brother. He and Queen Mary are expecting a child." she said.
Edward smiled.
"That is wonderful news. I know they have wanted a child for awhile." he said.
Elisabeth sighed and took a seat.
Edward looked at her.
"Lissy, is everything alright?" he asked.
She took a deep breath.
"Edward, I am very frightened. What if I am to die in childbirth? What if the child dies? Mary lost their son just two years ago, when my father died my mother nearly died giving birth to my little sisters. What if something happens to me?" she said.
Edward knelt down and caressed her face.
"Sweetheart, it is true. Women have died in the pains of childbirth. However, God will protect you and our child. I will pray to him daily to cover you in his protection. Lissy, I love you. There is no life without you, my love. You have shown me what love is. I am blessed and honored to call you my wife and the mother to my children." he said.
Elisabeth smiled and knelt down and gave Edward a passionate kiss. She was silently thanking God that she was married to a man that truly loved her. She would not have a marriage like her parents. She would have a true marriage and a loving family.
A/N Thank you all so much for your patience. Life has been crazy and hectic, but the story must go on. The story will become very interesting and the stories more complex. I can assure you that you will not be disappointed. Please Read and Review and Chapter Sixty-Four will be up very soon and I have already started working on it.