Note: I'm going to up the pacing a bit, hopefully this isn't going too far forward for everyone...
Dover, June 1513
Catalina leaned back against the cushions of her litter, resting a hand on her ever swelling stomach. She had been so pleased when she had finally quickened back in April, especially given as Henry had decided, though not without her help, to go to war with the French again. He had also decided to lead his troops personally this time, to prevent the sort of mismanagement that had occurred last summer. Now within the hour they would be at Dover Castle, from which Henry was to depart with his men. Catalina shot a glance over at Henry, who was trotting alongside her litter on his horse, laughing merrily at something Charles Brandon said. The glint of his armor reminded her though of what he was about to embark upon; Catalina could imagine the scene of his return, Henry basking in the glory of his continental victories and her glowing with her own triumph, a healthy little Duke of Cornwall snug in her arms.
The thought brought a smile to her face, and the child in her womb responded by shifting around and kicking.
“You are very lively today,
mijo,” Catalina whispered, “Is that because you are excited to meet me and your papa? I am excited to meet you too but you must not come early, wait until you are strong and ready,
comprendido?”
Her husband was already so delighted at the thought of finally having his son and heir. He was even making plans for the boy’s christening, assigning to him as godparents the King and Queen of Portugal, the Queen being Catalina’s dear sister Maria, as well as the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian. It pleased Catalina immensely to think that her little boy would have such illustrious sponsors, though Henry had shot down her suggestion of her own father as a godfather. That irked her, especially since just a year previously he would likely have welcomed having the King of Aragon as a godfather to their son.
Henry’s relatively recent distaste for his father-by-marriage was also continuing to seep unpleasantly into his relationship with Catalina. Indeed, politics had become a vanishingly rare topic in their conversations. Catalina understood that Henry might not always wish to discuss politics with his wife, the woman who was supposed to provide him with a refuge from the worldly concerns of his kingship, but his hesitancy hinted that he did not trust her, just as he did not trust her father, and that made her heart ache.
However, Henry had also told her some news before they had left Greenwich which made her feel much better about their relationship. Come his departure for France, she would be regent. The idea thrilled and exhilarated Catalina, and she was determined to do proud by her husband, as well as her mother in Heaven who had ruled her own kingdom with such grace and wisdom. Catalina was certain that she would not fail...no, she
could not fail, either in serving as regent or in giving Henry a son and heir to reign as king after him.
Later that night, Henry and Catalina lay curled together on the bed in the Queen’s chambers. It was rare that they slept together without having intercourse, but they had a need of seeing each other as much as possible before Henry’s departure. Though nothing was said aloud about the subject, neither were blind to the fact that war was fraught with danger and Henry was soon to be heading into the thick of battle.
“I’m going to miss your hair,” Henry murmured into Catalina’s neck, hands resting gently on her waist.
“Oh?” Catalina said, her tone somewhat incredulous, “Why so?”
“The smell,” Henry replied, “It’s like...cinnamon and some sort of flower. I don’t know what it is but it’s lovely, intoxicating.”
Catalina snorted, “It’s just my perfumes. You can take those with you if you like.”
“No, no,” Henry said insistently, “I know what your perfumes smell like and that’s not what this is.”
“Well what is it then?” Catalina asked, turning her head to look at her husband.
“You,” Henry said simply, “Just you.”
They fell into silence then, Henry adjusting his hands so that one of them fell on Catalina's burgeoning abdomen. The baby kicked, responding to their father’s touch.
“Ah,” Henry said, breaking the silence, “That was a strong one. I see we have a budding warrior on our hands.”
“He will be the greatest warrior since his father,” Catalina said with a smile, then rolling over so that she was face to face with her husband, “I just…I can’t even say...I wish...”
“I know, Catlin. But do not worry,” Henry drew one of her hands up and placed a kiss on it, “You’ll do splendidly and I’ll be home before the baby comes, you’ll see.”
Catalina said nothing in response but rather buried her face in Henry’s shoulder, breathing him in as best she could. Henry rested his head on top of hers, equally trying to savor how his wife felt in his arms. Soon enough sleep overtook them.
