Maybe have Philip injure himself once, then he can use this as reason to never participate again
A Queen Twice Over: Mary Tudor the Elder Marries Francis I of France
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
i just presumed he was already being tutored in european martial arts. but, perhaps they could find something that wasnt part of his curiculum or rearrange it. i was thinking china and kungfu because thats what i know, and starting with fists then moving up to weapons...
would there be systematic boxers in this period? there would be duelers... maybe learning dueling then rather than war arts would help?
also just have a personal bias for the modern kungfu philosophies too tbh
EDIT: wrestling. of course. completely blanked on grappling.
would there be systematic boxers in this period? there would be duelers... maybe learning dueling then rather than war arts would help?
also just have a personal bias for the modern kungfu philosophies too tbh
EDIT: wrestling. of course. completely blanked on grappling.
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Section CXXVI: July 1535
You can all thank @Reyne for this particular story arc...
Despite the soaring temperatures, the Archbishop’s private study is sealed tight, doors and windows shuttered and closely guarded. The three men inside are sweltering, but they know they have to live with the discomfort. This is too delicate a conversation to risk being overheard, after all.
“We’re agreed, then? The current situation cannot be allowed to stand?” The host, Cardinal Jean de Lorraine, Archbishop of Narbonne, asks.
Phillippe, Duc de Nemours, growls assent, “The grand send-off for Cartier was the final straw. Colonies in the New World are all very well, but are we really to be expected to push for them rather than the County of Boulogne?! Never! The Maid must be turning in her grave! It’s time we reminded King François that his Coronation Oath was to the people of France, not to his dratted English witch of a mother!”
Jean nods at Phillippe’s words, and looks at the third of their triumvirate. Henri of Navarre shrugs, “I need King François to support me against the Spanish. If he won’t even bestir himself to fight for his own inheritance, how can I expect him to fight for mine? Lord Milan, on the other hand, adores my baby sister. He’ll do anything for his Mama Isabelle, so once he’s back at his brother’s side, I have no doubt that troops to retake Pamplona will be forthcoming.”
The young Archbishop raises a hand in acknowledgement of the point, “Very well. Then we know what we have to do. Phillippe, you’ll go to Milan, bring His Grace and Madame de Valentinois to France. Henri, you and I will gather our men. Discreetly, of course, but between us, we ought to be able to muster a few thousand, at the very least. We’ll meet here next spring, and march north just as soon as we can.”
“And you’re sure your brother won’t stand in our way, Your Eminence?” Henri glances at the Cardinal, “I’m sorry to ask, but Lord de Guise seems to have very much thrown his lot in with the King. I know he’s your brother, but…”
The Archbishop waves a hand, dismissing Henri’s worries in an instant, “Claude cleaves to King François because he feels guilty for not having protected the late King at Boulogne. He is trying to make up for his failure toward the father by being the son’s lapdog. Once we’ve opened his eyes to the fact that the King has betrayed his father’s memory and is thus no true heir, he’ll not stand in our way. You have my word on that.”
Phillippe, the grizzled old war hawk, is pacified by Jean’s words. He knows it's the best he's going to get and is willing to accept it if it helps him get what he wants. Henri, the bitter defeat at Noain still in his mind, even a decade later, is not quite so sangfroid, but on the other hand, he knows he is in no place to question the Archbishop’s family connections. His own father by marriage has many ties to Brittany, after all, and is bound to stand with the King, even if only because of the respect he has for its beloved Duchess, Queen Renee.
As such, he simply nods, and raises the other question that has been nagging at his mind, “You speak boldly of what we shall do once we have forced His Majesty to set his evil councillors aside and reconcile with his brother and Madame de Valentinois, sirs, and I commend you for your confidence. However, have you given thought to what we might do if His Grace is not amenable to our desires? He is, after all, born of two stubborn parents, and the Queen Dowager will do all she can to make him resist. Of course she will. No favourite likes to be set aside.”
“Then we depose him and crown the Dauphin,” Phillippe snaps back, with a speed that makes it all too clear that he has thought this through in great detail, “His Highness is still young enough to be malleable. Take him away from his blastedly Anglophile environment and we’ll easily be able to shape him into the King France deserves – the King his father most decidedly is not. As his eldest uncle, Lord Milan will serve as Regent until His Highness comes of age.”
“Lord Milan is not yet of age himself,” Henri cautions, “And Queen Marie won’t be comfortable with his being Regent. We all know how much she fears a repeat of what happened in England before her father took the throne.”
Phillippe scoffs, “It’s not as though Queen Marie will be anywhere near our Court. The only place I’m allowing that English witch to be is Fontevraud. Perhaps then she’ll finally learn her place in the world. And besides, Lord Milan will be all but of age next spring, and he’s ruled Milan since he was ten. I’m sure he’ll make a fine Regent, particularly with us beside him. And, should, God forbid, anything happen to the Dauphin, His Eminence will have no qualms about crowning him, will you, Jean?”
The older man’s voice quivers with thinly veiled threat, both to the two-year-old Dauphin and to the Archbishop if he doesn’t fall in line. Jean debates reminding the Duke what can happen to those who threaten a Prince of the Church, but he doesn’t. This is already a risky enough venture. The last thing they need is to be fighting amongst themselves.
As such, he merely hums in agreement, “Bien sur. But I’m sure it won’t come to that. Not if we all play our parts correctly. I will prepare my benefices to stand with us. No true Christian King would risk alienating the sees of Metz, Toul, Verdun, Narbonne and Reims all at the same time. Henri, if you can get your father by marriage onside, it would be a huge help, as Lord Laval is a fine military man. But more importantly, you need to write to your sister and prepare the ground for Lord Nemours. As you said yourself, Lord Milan will do anything for Lady Isabella. We need her onside. Is that clear?”
Henri of Navarre nods, “Anne’s latest pregnancy comes to term next month. I’ll make Isabella godmother. It’ll give me a plausible excuse to write to her.”
“Good.” The Cardinal allows himself a brief smile, then looks over the Duke, who simply growls.
“I know what I have to do, Your Eminence. I’ll not let you down. Don’t forget – this was my idea in the first place. Would I do anything to jeopardise an idea I birthed?”
“No, Your Grace,” One hand held placatingly in the air, the Cardinal gestures to his co-conspirators to kneel before him, and takes a deep, fortifying breath, before tracing his fingers through the air in the shape of a cross.
“Deus, Benedicat et protegat nos,” he whispers.
The words fall into a silence that is half reverent, half fearful. Though none of them dare say it, they know they have crossed a Rubicon this afternoon. There is no going back now.
Narbonne, July 1535
Despite the soaring temperatures, the Archbishop’s private study is sealed tight, doors and windows shuttered and closely guarded. The three men inside are sweltering, but they know they have to live with the discomfort. This is too delicate a conversation to risk being overheard, after all.
“We’re agreed, then? The current situation cannot be allowed to stand?” The host, Cardinal Jean de Lorraine, Archbishop of Narbonne, asks.
Phillippe, Duc de Nemours, growls assent, “The grand send-off for Cartier was the final straw. Colonies in the New World are all very well, but are we really to be expected to push for them rather than the County of Boulogne?! Never! The Maid must be turning in her grave! It’s time we reminded King François that his Coronation Oath was to the people of France, not to his dratted English witch of a mother!”
Jean nods at Phillippe’s words, and looks at the third of their triumvirate. Henri of Navarre shrugs, “I need King François to support me against the Spanish. If he won’t even bestir himself to fight for his own inheritance, how can I expect him to fight for mine? Lord Milan, on the other hand, adores my baby sister. He’ll do anything for his Mama Isabelle, so once he’s back at his brother’s side, I have no doubt that troops to retake Pamplona will be forthcoming.”
The young Archbishop raises a hand in acknowledgement of the point, “Very well. Then we know what we have to do. Phillippe, you’ll go to Milan, bring His Grace and Madame de Valentinois to France. Henri, you and I will gather our men. Discreetly, of course, but between us, we ought to be able to muster a few thousand, at the very least. We’ll meet here next spring, and march north just as soon as we can.”
“And you’re sure your brother won’t stand in our way, Your Eminence?” Henri glances at the Cardinal, “I’m sorry to ask, but Lord de Guise seems to have very much thrown his lot in with the King. I know he’s your brother, but…”
The Archbishop waves a hand, dismissing Henri’s worries in an instant, “Claude cleaves to King François because he feels guilty for not having protected the late King at Boulogne. He is trying to make up for his failure toward the father by being the son’s lapdog. Once we’ve opened his eyes to the fact that the King has betrayed his father’s memory and is thus no true heir, he’ll not stand in our way. You have my word on that.”
Phillippe, the grizzled old war hawk, is pacified by Jean’s words. He knows it's the best he's going to get and is willing to accept it if it helps him get what he wants. Henri, the bitter defeat at Noain still in his mind, even a decade later, is not quite so sangfroid, but on the other hand, he knows he is in no place to question the Archbishop’s family connections. His own father by marriage has many ties to Brittany, after all, and is bound to stand with the King, even if only because of the respect he has for its beloved Duchess, Queen Renee.
As such, he simply nods, and raises the other question that has been nagging at his mind, “You speak boldly of what we shall do once we have forced His Majesty to set his evil councillors aside and reconcile with his brother and Madame de Valentinois, sirs, and I commend you for your confidence. However, have you given thought to what we might do if His Grace is not amenable to our desires? He is, after all, born of two stubborn parents, and the Queen Dowager will do all she can to make him resist. Of course she will. No favourite likes to be set aside.”
“Then we depose him and crown the Dauphin,” Phillippe snaps back, with a speed that makes it all too clear that he has thought this through in great detail, “His Highness is still young enough to be malleable. Take him away from his blastedly Anglophile environment and we’ll easily be able to shape him into the King France deserves – the King his father most decidedly is not. As his eldest uncle, Lord Milan will serve as Regent until His Highness comes of age.”
“Lord Milan is not yet of age himself,” Henri cautions, “And Queen Marie won’t be comfortable with his being Regent. We all know how much she fears a repeat of what happened in England before her father took the throne.”
Phillippe scoffs, “It’s not as though Queen Marie will be anywhere near our Court. The only place I’m allowing that English witch to be is Fontevraud. Perhaps then she’ll finally learn her place in the world. And besides, Lord Milan will be all but of age next spring, and he’s ruled Milan since he was ten. I’m sure he’ll make a fine Regent, particularly with us beside him. And, should, God forbid, anything happen to the Dauphin, His Eminence will have no qualms about crowning him, will you, Jean?”
The older man’s voice quivers with thinly veiled threat, both to the two-year-old Dauphin and to the Archbishop if he doesn’t fall in line. Jean debates reminding the Duke what can happen to those who threaten a Prince of the Church, but he doesn’t. This is already a risky enough venture. The last thing they need is to be fighting amongst themselves.
As such, he merely hums in agreement, “Bien sur. But I’m sure it won’t come to that. Not if we all play our parts correctly. I will prepare my benefices to stand with us. No true Christian King would risk alienating the sees of Metz, Toul, Verdun, Narbonne and Reims all at the same time. Henri, if you can get your father by marriage onside, it would be a huge help, as Lord Laval is a fine military man. But more importantly, you need to write to your sister and prepare the ground for Lord Nemours. As you said yourself, Lord Milan will do anything for Lady Isabella. We need her onside. Is that clear?”
Henri of Navarre nods, “Anne’s latest pregnancy comes to term next month. I’ll make Isabella godmother. It’ll give me a plausible excuse to write to her.”
“Good.” The Cardinal allows himself a brief smile, then looks over the Duke, who simply growls.
“I know what I have to do, Your Eminence. I’ll not let you down. Don’t forget – this was my idea in the first place. Would I do anything to jeopardise an idea I birthed?”
“No, Your Grace,” One hand held placatingly in the air, the Cardinal gestures to his co-conspirators to kneel before him, and takes a deep, fortifying breath, before tracing his fingers through the air in the shape of a cross.
“Deus, Benedicat et protegat nos,” he whispers.
The words fall into a silence that is half reverent, half fearful. Though none of them dare say it, they know they have crossed a Rubicon this afternoon. There is no going back now.
Very interesting. Though I have a feeling that it may backfire on them, BADLY. On side note, did they forgot that last few regencies for child-kings had done more harm than good to France?!
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Well... This will certainly be a shitshow... If Prince Jean has any sense in his brains, he'll realize that this is a step too far and a threat to the crown itself. These traitors need to face the axe
I applaud you. While this is the logical consequence of Francis's actions, I can see two different paths forward for France. Either Francis cooperates or destroys the conspirators, or he adopts a medium path that will not satisfy the French population fully but will reinforce his popularity and diminish the apparent influence Mary has over the country. I also think whatever decision Jean makes is going to very important, as while I'm sure he hates his brother, he probably won't hate him that much, but I think Jean and his mother's attitude to each other will probably define the conflict that could rise. If Marie is somehow able to reconcile with Jean, which I doubt will happen easily as Jean is old enough to remember Marie's actions. If Francis and Marie are convinced and -able- to reconcile with Jean, French power in Italy will be reinforced. If Jean and Francis can't accord with each other, not only Francis will be the one to lose Boulogne but also Italy, since the Milan is probably lost to France is Jean sides with the conspirators.
It's something in the name, I'm sure....
That would be spoilers, wouldn't it?
Quite!
She is, but the conspirators are blaming her for the fact that Francois has decided he'd rather focus on claiming lands in the New World than trying to regain Boulogne (for fear that the current Anglo-Imperial alliance will come down on him like a tonne of bricks if he breaks the December 1533 treaty...) They think she's given him too Anglophilic an upbringing, and not let Francis raise him as befits the true King of France/Duke of Brittany. I'm not saying they're logical, but...
You talked me into this...
I know roughly where I'm going (and how far Jean will get into this, as does @Tudorfan (in fact he came up with it...)) but I am saying nothing for the sake of spoilers.
Must you hurl me under the bus?
I haven’t finished building my fortified fort yet!
Oh no, I hope the Duke of Milan dosen't get caught up in all this, as France may well be in chaos soon...
Oh boy, trouble time ahead, also if Francis II is at least half of the son of his parent, good luck to them, they will need it badly. Also trying to dispose of the king of France, king by divine right, a descendant of the Capetians, and meddle with succession right, is at best very very audacious.
Still, France is in a period of trouble, its ennemies are starting to allies. They suffers internal trouble, and a lot of revanchism. I wonder if the French will do as OTTL and search for an alliance with the Ottomans, if they do, Europe is due a rude awakening.
Well, get on with it then! You know you're my scapegoat for everything! Also, it was a really clever idea....
Everything? I'm not responsible for everything! And my fort is built and fortified. If you desire to join me, just let me know! *Hides, then re-emerges.* I'm glad you thought the idea was clever! I enjoyed plotting it. *Re-hides.*
At almost fourteen, and given his strained relationship with his mother and brother, I can't see how he can *help* getting involved, really!
Errr, I don't really want to get involved in the complexities of Ottoman politics, so I doubt I'll go that route...
But yes, the next year or so is not going to be fun for the French...
You definitely encourage me!!
But yes, make yourself comfortable until we know how the others take this arc
Encourage, yes. To blame for everything, no. I bounced off this idea, you wrote the chapter without any input from me!You definitely encourage me!!
But yes, make yourself comfortable until we know how the others take this arc