I was being sarcastic đ
I know, it'd be a big set piece for sure đ
And yes, Henry will be leaning very hard on Harry in the months and years to come..
Titulus Princeps: Bessie Blount Has A Girl
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
And yes, Henry will be leaning very hard on Harry in the months and years to come..
Ah, I see. Still, my point stands. Of course, KOA's extreme fasting didn't help, either.
XV: August 1530
Richmond, August 1530
London was no place for Court. Not in the summer. Everyone knew that. The capital was too hot, too dusty, too dangerous.
But, with King Henry too ill to travel except by litter or barge, there was little anyone could do. The only thing they could do was scatter, spreading themselves through the outskirts of the city so that, with any luck, any plague or other illness would spare at least some of them.
Princess Mary escaped to her favourite manor of Beaulieu, and little Elizabeth was sent to Eltham. Harry was dispatched back to Durham House to join his companions, the Earls of Surrey and Lincoln, and the Hastings and Somerset heirs.
King Henry, meanwhile, went to Chelsea, to recuperate at the home of his old friend, Sir Thomas More. Queen Mary asked to go with him, but he brusquely refused. Piqued, Her Majesty didnât wait to be told twice. Overnight, she packed up her household and fled to Richmond, where she soon called her family together for a council of war.
âWhat am I to do? I canât go on like this. Henry has scarcely spoken to me since the accident, and now weâre not even in the same castle!â
âWhose fault is that?â Her younger brother William scoffed, tossing an apple diffidently from hand to hand, âYouâre the one who threw a tantrum when he wouldnât let you go to Chelsea with him. You could have sweettalked him, but no. You picked up sticks and ran, just like you always did when we were children."
âOh, William! Use your head!â Mary snapped, âI was hardly going to go where I wasnât wanted! Henry doesnât need to recuperate at Chelsea! Heâs only gone there because he wants to be close to the Pembroke brat!â
Even the worst of Queen Maryâs critics couldnât accuse her of being slow-witted. The colour drained from her plump cheeks as a horrible thought occurred to her.
âChrist, what if he wants to legitimise the boy? Wolseyâs not going to say no, and nor will the Howards, not when heâs one of them. Is this what itâs come to? Will we have to go cap in hand to a bastard to keep whatâs rightfully ours?! That canât be right! Iâm the Queen, for heavenâs sake! We should be the first family in England!â
âDo?â George Talbot looked up at his daughter, his voice carefully schooled to boredom. He understood Maryâs frustration, of course, but a tiny part of him couldnât help but think that this was just punishment for her overweening pride. Why couldnât she get it into her head? Sulks and temper were for mistresses, not wives. Mary ought to be caring for the King as though he were made of glass, not railing at him like a fishwife.
âDo, Madam?â he repeated, as Mary turned her head to him, âNothing. Nothing at all. Right now, it is best for all of us if we do nothing that might rock the boat, and the sooner you learn that, the better.â
âNothing!â Mary gaped at her father, cheeks red with anger, âYou suggest we do nothing? Are you out of your mind? We canât -â
âThe King has become a eunuch!â George shot back, no longer caring that it was lese-majeste of the highest order to interrupt his Queen. Indeed, he itched to shake her. Heâd thought his daughter was clever. Was she really so incapable of understanding the new rules which now govern all their lives? Did he really have to spell it out? âHeâll never sire another child; do you understand that? And that means youâre lucky!â
âLucky!â Mary spat, âLucky?! When my husband can barely bear to lay eyes on me?â
âYes, lucky! His Majesty knows heâll never sire another child. He may not yet want to admit it, but he knows it well enough. And that means heâll never seek to set you aside in the hope of a son. Your daughter will never run the risk of being branded a bastard, as Princess Mary would have been, had Queen Katherine not died at Ludlow. Any other girl would give her eyeteeth to be where you are right now. Christ on the Cross, Katherine would have done so! So, for once in your life, stop carping like a fishwife and start counting your blessings!â
George was panting by the time he finished. Fury coursed through his veins. His fingers twitched at his side.
Not trusting his self-control to hold much longer, he shoved his chair back violently. It crashed to the floor behind him as he stalked to the door, not waiting to be dismissed.
At the door, a thought occurred to him and he whirled on Mary, fixing her with a glare of ice.
âJust so Your Majesty knows, your husband demanded I disinherit Francis for his part in Juneâs fiasco. He has banished him to Ireland in perpetuity. So, remember that next time youâre inclined to bemoan your fate. Your brother will never inherit anything heâs been raised to. Never.â
Lisbon, August 1530
âGodâs wounds! Is there nothing those old codgers will let me discuss other than my marriage?!â
Luis stalked into his brother Fernandoâs rooms, lips pressed tight with barely restrained fury. The younger man arched an eyebrow and set his book aside, âDonât let Henrique or Afonso hear you cursing like that. You know how they like to flaunt their piety.â
Luis threw his brother a poisonous glare, âIâm King! Iâll bloody well curse if I want to! Joao has barely been dead a year! Weâre barely out of mourning. Surely thereâs no need for me to rush to the altar? Weâre not exactly short of Princes!â
Fernando held up a conciliatory hand, âThere might be five of us, brother, but think of it from the Councilâs point of view. Henrique and Alfonso are hardly likely to renounce their vows, so, in practical terms, the next generation is going to have to come from you, me, or Duarte. And Duarteâs not even fifteen. After what happened to Joao and Catarina, can you blame them for being at least a little cautious?â
âWellâŠno...â Luis conceded, although he did so through gritted teeth, clenching a fist in his thick red hair to stop himself punching the wall., âI just wish theyâd stop flogging a dead horse. Youâll be wed to Guiomar before the yearâs out. I have no doubt youâll have children. Why canât the Council be content with that?â
âIs it really such a dead horse, though?â Fernando arched an eyebrow, shooting his brother a pointed look, âIs there really no woman you can see seated at your side as Queen? None at all?â
At Fernandoâs words, a vision swam unbidden before Luisâs eyes. A young woman, clad in mourning black, with his motherâs sapphire eyes, and masses of demurely coiled strawberry-blonde hair, garnished with rubies the colour and size of pomegranates.
He felt the heat rush to his cheeks and loins and coughed, quickly turning away before Fernando could see. After all, with only a year between them, the brothers were as close as equals as it was possible for a King and his subject to be. Fernando would never let him live it down if he realised Luis had been dreaming about their young English cousin Maria.
âNow that you mention itâŠâ he trailed off and swiftly changed the subject, âBut look at the time! Iâm late to dine with the Braganzas! I promised Jaime weâd discussed Duarteâs marriage to young Isabel this afternoon!â
With that serving as his hurried farewell, Luis scurried out of the room before Fernando could press him.
His behaviour wasnât kingly, he knew, but he couldnât bring himself to care. For some reason, any thought of Cousin Maria unmanned him completely. He felt like nothing so much as a green, lovesick schoolboy every time she crossed his mind. Which was ridiculous; heâd never even met the girl!
All he had was fourteen months of letters and a miniature she had sent him for Christmas. That wasnât enough to fall in love.
Was it?
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It may take some time, but yes, he is smitten!
I knew you'd like that!
I promised Blue they would. I had to make up for how badly I'm treating Mary in Rosa somehow...
We love seeing Mary Talbot yelled at for her whining
We especially love the opportunity of a happy Princess Mary
We especially love the opportunity of a happy Princess Mary
Well, yes. Given how popular George was in Queen Twice Over, I had to bring him back here.
And yes, blissfully happy Mary, Queen of Portugal, I promise!
Awww I really hope that Mary will be happy with Luis, and part of me would like to see Elizabeth confirmed as heiress to the throne...
I have just one request (and you owe me this, since you skipped it in Queen Twice Over!), which I will DM you about.Yes, Mary will be a blissful Queen, I promise
Also, nice chapters - it would have been nice I'd been notified about them being updated though, Alt!History...
They might not all appear on-screen, but you can have your babies đ
Well I think Henry and Mary will be a bit Charles and Diana. They'll live separate lives, but they won't actually get around to fully parting ways.
To anyone wondering, this sentence is not as bad as you think. I was just nagging at Falcon to allow Mary and Luis to have numerous babies.
Boleyn Family Tree (1530)
Okay, so the next chapter is half-written, but have a Boleyn family tree to tide you over until I can finish it.
Thomas Boleyn, Earl of Ormonde (b.1477) m.1499 Lady Elizabeth Howard (b.1480)
1) Mary Carey, Viscountess Hunsdon (b.1500) m. Sir William Carey, Viscount Hunsdon (b.1495) (a) exm King Henry VIII (b)
Thomas Boleyn, Earl of Ormonde (b.1477) m.1499 Lady Elizabeth Howard (b.1480)
1) Mary Carey, Viscountess Hunsdon (b.1500) m. Sir William Carey, Viscount Hunsdon (b.1495) (a) exm King Henry VIII (b)
- 1b Harry Fitzroy, Duke of Pembroke and Richmond (b.1521)
- 2a Catherine Carey (b.1523)
- 3a Alice Carey (b.1527)
- 4a Edward Carey (b.1529)
- Thomas Boleyn (b.1525)
- Dorothy Boleyn (b.1526)
- Margery Boleyn (b.1528)
- Margaret Percy (b.1525)
- Algernon Percy (b. and d. 1525)
- Francis Percy (b.1528)
- Anne Percy (b.1530)