Albion Rising: A Henry Frederick Timeline

VVD0D95 · Dec 26, 2021

Chapter 211: Palatinate

March, 1624

“The Blockade of the Scheldt has been destroyed.” Frederick said glumly as he came and sat down next to her.

Elizabeth knew she was supposed to feel something, perhaps shock, despondency maybe but all she could really muster was a sigh. “What does this mean?”

“It means that the Spanish will march into the Dutch Republic and finish off this war.” Frederick said.

“Just like that?” Elizabeth asked. Surely there would be a bit more of resistance at the border?

“Yes, after all, now that that blockade has gone, the Spanish are free to flex their muscle. They’ll likely move into Dutch ports.” Frederick said, his tone indicating just what he thought of that.

“You can’t do anything to stop that though.” Elizabeth said cautiously, she knew how loyal her husband was to his uncles, and she knew how damaging that could be.

Frederick grunted which prompted Elizabeth to continue.

“I’m being serious, Frederick, you saw how easily the Spanish managed to swat the army aside when they were marching through the Spanish Road. If they were of a mind to, we’d have to flee. Let us not endanger ourselves further.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Frederick growled. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“That’s exactly what you should do.” Elizabeth retorted.

“What?!” Frederick snarled.

“Think about it.” Elizabeth said. “You’ve seen the Spanish army; you saw how they acted as they marched through. You know that they went north to fight for the Emperor. And now they’ve lifted the blockade of Scheldt, think how that looks. Imagine the fear that will be coursing through the other Protestant Princes’ minds.”

She saw Frederick consider that, his mind whirring. “Brandenburg will try and make hay from it. Saxony will remain quiet, but will be concerned. Wurttemberg will definitely be concerned.”

“Exactly, now think what you could do.” Elizabeth said.

Frederick’s brow furrowed. “Present it as a case of the Emperor deciding to turn on us next.”

“Or?” Elizabeth said.

“Or use it as leverage against the Emperor, convince him that I can get the Protestant states onside and calmed down in return for voting for his preferred candidate.” Frederick said.

“Exactly.” Elizabeth said. “And given the uncertainty around who he wants to succeed him that could be something important.”

There were doubts after all over whether the Emperor wanted his son in law Infante Ferdinand to succeed him or whether he wanted his nephew Maximilian, King of Bohemia to succeed him. Whilst the Emperor may have made a promise to his brother, circumstances had changed since then. Especially with Gabriel Bethlen chewing at the heels of the Habsburgs outside Pressburg.

Frederick sighed. “I suppose you’re right. But I still think he’ll go for his nephew over his son in law.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked. “Yes, his nephew holds Bohemia, but unless he manages to stop Bethlen, I can’t see him holding out for very long.” Indeed, that was perhaps the best news they’d received recently. Bethlen, a rebel in Hungary had taken towns and villages all the way along the route to Pressburg and was now knocking on the doors of the Hungarian capital, causing panic in Prague and Vienna.

“Never count the Habsburgs out.” Frederick said, as if reciting something he’d learned over the years, which he probably had. “They’ll find a way.”

“So, what would you do instead?” Elizabeth asked.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do as you suggested, I simply said that we can’t count the Habsburgs out.” Frederick replied. “Though it wouldn’t hurt to have a foot in their camp.”

“What are you thinking?” Elizabeth asked.

“Well, the Landgrave of Hesse-Darmstadt has always been an Austrian ally, and the man has a daughter of the right age with our Frederick. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a miss to have them married.” Frederick said.

“And what about the possibility of a marriage with the Dutch?” Elizabeth asked, she knew how keen her husband had been for that marriage.

“We can marry Anne to the Prince of Orange’s eldest son, he’d understand. And it would give us scope to be a peacemaker.” Frederick said.

Elizabeth frowned, she understood the desire to be a peacemaker, but she also understood the pitfalls that came with it. She had seen the damage that had been done to her father’s reputation and then health as he had moved between one camp and the next without committing. “That would be a risky business.” She said then.

“No different to what you suggested.” Frederick countered. “Just more overt.”

“Are you sure it is wise?” Elizabeth asked.

Her husband smiled. “I am not the political beast that you are, but I do know a thing or two.”

Elizabeth grinned. “That is true.”

“So, what do you say? Shall I put the message out there and see what sticks?” Frederick asked.

Some small part of her was telling her that this was a terrible idea, another part of her was telling her that this was the only sure fire way to avoid more difficulties emerging. As such she went with the latter part. “I think so.” She said smiling.

Frederick nodded. “Then I shall have my men draw up the proposals.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I think that would be a good thing. And perhaps we might consider visiting Bavaria as well, to make sure the Duke doesn’t get any ideas.” The Duke was a cunning old man, one who lacked an heir at present but was certain to get one someway somehow.

Her husband frowned. “Yes, I suppose we ought to.”

“Well, given his ill-health it would look poorly if we didn’t.” Elizabeth pointed out.

Frederick sighed. “You’re right of course.”

“Good, I shall write to the Duchess to let her know that we intend to visit.” Elizabeth said, she liked the Duchess, the woman was the opposite of her husband, kind, considerate and friendly.

“Please do.” Frederick said, though he didn’t sound all that enthused by the prospect.

Elizabeth smiled and added. “It’ll be fine.” At least she hoped it would be.

VVD0D95 · Dec 27, 2021

Chapter 212: Virginia

May, 1624

“It’s too damned hot.” William Wode, member of the Colony Council complained tugging at his shirt.

“Rebecca says it’s going to get hotter.” John Rolfe, businessman and another member of the council replied. He didn’t mention that Rebecca had said that this was the hottest the colony had ever been.

“Lord Above.” Wode said, muttering something to himself.

“Well, enough of that.” Sir Francis Wyatt, Governor of the colony said. Wyatt had long flowing auburn hair and a dark beard. His eyes were sharp, and his tongue sharper. “We’ve received a report from the granaries.”

Archibald Stanton, the head of the granaries spoke then. “We’ve got a fair few tonnes of food. Enough to last us through the summer and into the autumn. Should the heat continue, we’re going to need to start planning for shortages come winter.”

“That’s not encouraging.” Wode grumbled.

John had to agree with the man, he knew the situation in Henricus was slightly better, but he didn’t want to have to start sharing food, not when Rebecca and the children would need it. “Still, it gives us something to start working toward over the next few months.” Wyatt said. “It also gives us reason explore further inland.”

John frowned. “You want to go further inland?”

Further inland was uncharted territory, even the Natives weren’t completely sure of what was and wasn’t safe there, and they’d been here for centuries.

“It’s risky, yes, but it also gives us an opportunity. We need to know what else lies within this land and for that we must explore.” Wyatt said.

“And who will serve as a guide?” John asked. He wasn’t sure whether the Natives would, they had odd customs and beliefs about such things.

“I’ve worked out an arrangement with the natives.” Wyatt said. “We’ll give them some land in what we discover in return for this.”

“So easily?” Wode grumbled.

“It’s the thing we need in return for their service.” Wyatt said.

“Next we’ll be giving the blacks land and a horse.” Wode muttered.

“Given they work harder than you, Wode, I think that would be fair.” John sniped.

It was true, Wode got fat off of income he had in Britain, all the while living a life of luxury here. It was infuriating.

Wode said nothing, probably because Wyatt was glaring right at him.

Instead, Wyatt replied. “We’re going to need to make sacrifices going forward. For the good of the colony.”

“Especially as the Crown seems intent on removing the Company from its governance.” Stanton said.

“What?!” Wode exclaimed.

John wasn’t quite as surprised as Wode, he had friends at court after all, but he did have to blink slightly. He had thought it would be a more gradual process, not a sudden one.

“Why would His Majesty do that?” Wode demanded.

“Because of corruption within the Virginia Company.” Wyatt said. “It seems that some of the members of the company have been making bids above their station.”

Wode opened his mouth and shut it and then opened it before shutting it again.

“What does this mean for the colony?” John asked.

“Right now? Very little, the governing structures will remain the same, as will how we get finance. But once the proposed review starts? We’re going to need to prove our worth.” Wyatt replied.

“Hence the journey inward.” John surmised.

“Exactly.” Wyatt said. “We’re going to need to show the King that we are worth every penny and that we can bring more people and justify it.”

“I could speak to my friends at court.” John said. “Get them to fight for us?” He knew Lord de la Warr would happily do that if it meant he continued to get a good price on tobacco.

Wyatt nodded. “Please do, we will need to get all the good impressions that we can get.”

“Surely dealing with the Spanish as they try and encroach would also help?” Wode asked.

“Naturally.” Wyatt replied. “But for the militia to be useful we need to know where the Spanish are and when they’re going to attack. So far we’ve had nothing.”

John expected Wode to grumble then, and so was pleasantly surprised when he said. “I can help there.”

“You can?” John asked.

“I can.” Wode said. “I can get my sons to start tracking the Spanish. We could follow them in a few smaller boats and then see where they land.”

“If they land.” John said.

“They will have to land, the weather being what it is.” Wode said.

Wyatt spoke then before John could answer. “Very well, see to it and do it promptly.”

“Yes, Governor.” Wode replied.

“Now, I’ve had word from Jacobia, and it seems that there are some new powers appearing in the area.” Wyatt said.

“New powers?” John asked.

“The Dutch, of course, but also the French are re-emerging and I believe even ships from Denmark are appearing.” Wyatt said.

“Denmark?” John asked, that was surprising, he hadn’t thought that the Danes had any interest in colonising anything that wasn’t Swedish.

“Indeed, the game is changing.” Wyatt said.

“So, what are we to do?” John asked.

“We need to keep an ear and an eye out, we need to assess the situation and then we need to act.” Wyatt said.

“Act how?” John asked, he didn’t think they had the manpower to go and wage a full war against any of these powers.

“We’ll send word to the Crown and take it from there.” Wyatt said.

Wode snorted, but didn’t counter what the Governor had said, and John breathed a sigh of relief.

Clearly, Wyatt was done talking though for he asked. “Does anyone have anything else they would like to discuss?”

When nobody said anything, the man nodded and said. “I’ll see you all in a week’s time then.” Wyatt got up and left, and a few moments later John and the others also got up. It was slow moving and John couldn’t help but feel that there was something lurking in the shadows. Something that might harm them. what it was, he didn’t know, but the feeling was there and it wouldn’t go away.

VVD0D95 · Dec 27, 2021

VVD0D95 · Dec 28, 2021

Chapter 213: Seismic Revolution

August, 1624

“They came in great numbers, sweeping across the land like some sort of plague.” Henry Bentinck said. “We tried to hold the line but every time we thought we’d achieved something more of them came.”

Henry sounded shocked, and given everything that had happened, Maurice wasn’t surprised. The Battle of the Tides had ended in a humiliating defeat for the Republic with Maurice’s cousin slain and the army scattered. Henry had led roughly 1,000 survivors back from the Tides to Rotterdam, where Maurice and the main army were based and was now filling them in on everything that had happened.

“We tried using the tactics that you had suggested, Your Highness.” Henry said looking at him then. “But the Spanish just shrugged them off as if it were nothing.” His eyes were wide then, and Maurice could sympathise, his tactics should’ve worked, they had before, but clearly the Spanish had learned since their last dance.

“We did everything we could but it wasn’t enough.” Henry said.

“Who was their commander?” Maurice asked.

“The Emperor, Sir.” Henry replied.

“The Emperor?” Maurice replied surprised. He would’ve thought that given his age the Emperor would’ve remained in Brussels, and left it to Spinola to do the heavy lifting.

“Yes, Sir.” Henry said. “He commanded from the rear, but we could all see the Imperial Banner.”

Maurice shifted in his chair. If it was the Emperor who they’d meet in battle, then that changed everything. Perhaps instead of simply aiming to survive they could play more aggressively? “How many men did they have?”

Henry looked slightly confused by the question, but eventually replied. “I think around thirty thousand men, Sir.”

There were grumbles at that, thirty thousand men?! That was more than twice what the Republic had present at Rotterdam and it would take them months to get to that number. “Very well, thank you, Henry, go and rest.”

Henry rose, bowed and then departed.

Once he was gone, Maurice opened the floor to his commanders.

As expected, Willian Keppel spoke first. “We can’t consider going out and fighting the Spanish. We will lose badly.”

“What other choice do we have?” Maurice’s cousin Louis, Count of Naussa-Dillenberg asked.

“We stay in Rotterdam, and we force the Spanish to come here to us, and we see if they have the nerve to test themselves in a Siege.” Keppel replied.

“That would-be madness.” Louis said.

“Why?” Keppel demanded. “We’ve got the food and the water to last for a siege, don’t we?”

Maurice spoke then to prevent an argument brewing. “Whilst common sense dictates that we stay behind our walls and force the Spanish to come to use, I think that would be the wrong decision.”

Every eye in the room was focused on him and most thought he’d gone mad. He took a breath, and prepared himself for the onslaught that would come when he was done explaining his reasons.

“We are not as numerous as them that is true, and we have just lost an army. We are at risk of everything, I agree. But, if we stay here, there is a greater chance that it all ends in one siege. We are all gathered here, we are all worried, that will pass through the Republic. We cannot allow that to happen. We must take the fight to the Spanish to show the people that we believe we can win. If we give them that belief, then they can continue the fight even if we all die.”

Maurice was not usually one for such beliefs. He considered them foolish and filled with a belief in humanity that experience had ensured he didn’t share. But at this moment he was convinced that it was the only way, that anything else would be madness.

“You cannot be serious.” Keppel replied. “If we all fall, if our army loses, then that’s it. we’re finished.”

“Do you have such little trust in your fellow countrymen, Keppel?” Came a question from Maurice’s brother Frederick.

Keppel shifted, clearly Frederick’s question had hit a nerve. When the man replied he didn’t sound quite as confident as he had done before. “It is not that. It is simply a realistic view.”

“What is realistic about all of this?” Maurice asked. “We rebelled against the power in Europe forty years ago, and everyone expected us to be dead in the water within a year. And yet here we are. Still fighting and still breathing.” He took another breath. “But that could all end, you’re right. But we must fight and ensure that we make the Spanish bleed every single moment that we can.”

“It will be a slaughter.” Keppel said sounding as if his gut had been punched.

“It will.” Maurice said. “And I won’t ask you to fight if you are not comfortable doing so. But I will not wait for the Spanish to come to me, I will not cower away.”

There was a general murmur of agreement with what he had to say, which relieved him. If no one had agreed with him, then he would no doubt have been strung up for high treason against the Republic. Which would’ve been a terrible way to go.

“I will fight.” Keppel said then his voice shaking.

“Good.” Maurice said, smiling encouragingly at the man. He turned to face the room more generally. “Now, we cannot stay here and we must choose terrain that will suit us.”

There was a silence then as everyone considered the map before them, then his brother Frederick spoke. “Let us fight near Breda. The terrain there is suitable for the tactics we need to bring the Spanish down to our level.”

“And risk another town?” Louis said. “No, we must choose another area.”

“Where?!” Frederick demanded.

“Near Steenbergen.” Louis suggested.

“They’ll never go there.” Frederick said dismissively.

Maurice interjected before Louis could argue. “We’ll make our stand near Hollands Diep.” That would give them the ground needed to fight and force the Spanish to try and cross the river or fight on the muddy terrain.

“Is that wise?” Keppel asked.

“It will play to our advantage and force the Spanish to decide.” Maurice said simply.

There was a brief pause then Louis said. “I am happy with that.”

“As am I.” Frederick said. Others voiced their agreement.

“Good,” Maurice replied smiling. “Now let us decide on our tactics.”

VVD0D95 · Dec 28, 2021

VVD0D95 · Dec 29, 2021

Chapter 214: Soon To Be

October, 1624

Mary groaned slightly as she tried to move. Her large belly prevented her from doing so properly and she grunted. “You’d think God would’ve made it easier for a pregnant woman to move.”

That got a laugh from the Queen who quipped. “At least you’ve got some movement, when I was pregnant for the first time at around your stage I had to sit still for hours. It was painful.”

“Didn’t you get Henry to do everything for you?” Mary asked.

“Exactly.” Anna replied, which made Mary laugh.

“Have patience, child, you’ll be done soon enough.” Mother said.

“Another two months.” Mary said, wistfully. She couldn’t wait. She and Christian had gotten married in the Chapel Royal in Whitehall in March-just as the Spanish broke the Blockade of the Scheldt-and had been meant to travel to Denmark shortly after, but the Spanish victory had caused a panic and Henry had asked them to wait.

By the time it had been safe politically for them to travel the weather had gotten worse, storms and such and so they’d had to wait behind, probably for the new year. In that time she’d fallen pregnant, and whilst she and Christian were delighted at that fact, she was still very nervous about it all.

“And before then there’s a lot else we must discuss.” Mother said. “Like first of all, how are you finding things?”

Mary knew her mother meant more than just physically. Having watched Anna and Hedwig give birth to many children, she knew the sort of toll that giving birth could have. “I am fine, Mother. I know what to expect, and I am also prepared for the unexpected.” She knew that wasn’t really possible but it felt good to say.

Mother nodded and then looked at her and said. “From the way your stomach is, I’d wager you’re carrying a boy.”

“How do you know?” Mary asked. She didn’t really believe in the whole being able to tell the sex of the baby by how the belly was hanging, but Mother clearly did.

“Experience.” Was all mother said.

Mary snorted. “I see.”

Anna changed the topic then. “Have you decided on what you will name the child?”

Mary nodded. “Christian if it’s a boy and Anne if it’s a girl.” Christian had been most insistent on naming the child Christian after his father if it were a boy, something about tradition.

Mother clearly didn’t think highly about the boy’s name for she said. “There have already been so many Christians in the family, I would’ve thought that my nephew would have been more imaginative.”

Defensively, Mary said. “It is tradition in the Royal Family, Mother and besides, we’re naming our daughter after you.” That was what she thought anyway, no doubt Christian thought the name had been chosen for his own mother.

Mother sniffed. “Still….” She trailed off then.

The Queen spoke then. “And how are you both managing the pregnancy?”

Mary frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was pregnant for the first time, there was a lot of reading and a lot of discussion over what to do and how to balance our duties as well.” The Queen said. “Naturally, since you’ve been here for the pregnancy that’s been less on you, but still, it is a new experience for you both.”

Mary considered that. She supposed the Queen was right. She couldn’t really remember much of the Queen’s first pregnancy, but as for her own pregnancy well… “We’ve managed to talk things through. We’ve balanced out our work, and there have been arguments.”

“Over?” Mother asked sharply.

“Oh silly things. Like who snores louder and things like that.” Mary said, she didn’t mention the blazing row they’d had over Christian’s desire to captain the ship that would take them back to Denmark eventually.

Mother snorted. “Trust me when I say that that will get better and worse over time.”

Mary groaned. “Really?”

“Oh yes, when I was pregnant with you all, I could barely sleep in the same room as your father, because of all the smells and sharp sounds that made it unbearable.” Mother said, her voice slightly tinged with sadness.

“How did you overcome that?” Mary asked.

“I didn’t.” Mother said. “Not really.”

“Oh.” Mary replied, that didn’t sound encouraging.

Mother changed the topic then. “But enough about that. I have other news.”

Mary leaned forward intrigued.

Mother went on. “I spoke with the Danish ambassador and he has agreed to hand over a suite of rooms within his residence for your lying in.”

“That is fantastic.” Mary said, she had been worried that when she went for her lying in it would be in one of the Palaces and thus her child wouldn’t be born on Danish soil, raising questions about their ability to succeed in the future. But with the Danish ambassador granting her a suite of rooms that issue was resolved.

“Indeed.” Mother said. “We will need to move you into the rooms in a week’s time before it becomes untenable for you to move in great distances.”

“Of course.” Mary said. “Have you told Christian?”

“I spoke to him about this just before we came to see you.” Mother said. “He was happy to hear that and will be there with you.”

Mary breathed a sigh of relief, she didn’t want to enter the Danish ambassador’s residence alone. “Thank you.”

A brief silence followed before Mary asked. “How’s Henry doing?” She hadn’t seen her brother much, not since the wedding anyway. It seemed that he was incredibly busy with being King, which she understood, but still, a visit now and then would’ve been nice.

“He is as well as can be.” The Queen said. “Worrying over the navy report and over the war in the Republic.”

“What’s happening there?” Mary asked.

“A lot of things.” Mother said firmly, as if suggesting that that line of conversation was closed.

Mary sighed but listened all the same. She supposed it wouldn’t do for her to get stressed out over something she couldn’t control.

VVD0D95 · Dec 30, 2021

Chapter 215: Swedish Woes

January, 1625

Gustavus sighed as he read through the Nobles’ Letter. It stated quite clearly that whilst the majority of the nobles supported his efforts at reform, they weren’t willing to sign away their right to command in the army. He could understand it, but at the same time he was annoyed. Very annoyed.

“What is it?” Ebba asked.

Gustavus looked at her and found himself marvelling that the beautiful woman he saw before him was his wife. “The nobles have refused to agree to the reforms.”

“All of them?” Ebba asked, her eyebrows rising.

“Not all of them, but the ones to do with the army.” Gustavus said. The ones he considered the most important.

“Why?” Ebba asked.

“They consider it ungainly that they give up their right to command in favour of professional soldiers who may not be of high birth.” Gustavus said.

“Is that you phrased it?” Ebba asked.

“Phrased what?” Gustavus asked.

“The army reform?” Ebba replied.

“I…” Gustavus began and Ebba sighed.

“What did you expect them to do?” Ebba asked. “You know the nobles are a proud people and asking them point blank to give up their right to command to people they consider beneath them was always going to end badly.”

“How else was I supposed to phrase it?” Gustavus demanded angrily. “I wasn’t going to lie!”

“You didn’t need to lie.” Ebba said. “But a little change in the wording and you could have produced a completely different result.”

“How?” Gustavus demanded. What sorcery was his wife suggesting he use?

“Well, for starters instead of saying you will lose your right to command, you could have phrased it as, ‘working with the soldiers of the army, you will bring about changes into command structures and organisation.’ And from there you could have built on it.” Ebba said.

“You mean write something that means nothing at all?” Gustavus asked.

“Something like that.” Ebba said.

“And would that really change anything?” Gustavus asked. He wasn’t really sure it would.

“It would butter them up and get them ready for what was to come.” Ebba said.

“And now?” Gustavus asked. “What should I do now?”

“Maybe re-draft the document with that opening line. Nobody reads beyond the opening line anyway.” Ebba said.

Gustavus laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” It wouldn’t hurt to try he supposed, even if his mind rebelled against the thought of misleading his noblemen.

Ebba nodded and then asked. “What does this mean for the force you wanted to send to the Republic?”

Gustavus sighed. He’d intended to send an army under the command of his brother Charles to aid his brother in law Maurice, Prince of Orange in a fight against Spain. It wouldn’t be under the Swedish flag, but under various banners. He had worried that the nobles refusal to agree to army reforms would mean the men wouldn’t be there for Charles’ army, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case. “That will still go ahead.”

“How many men?” Ebba asked.

“Roughly two thousand. They’re going to depart next month.” Gustavus said.

“Will they get there in time?” Ebba asked.

“I think so. Apart from the odd skirmish the big battle hasn’t happened yet.” Gustavus said.

“Why?” Ebba asked.

“The weather. Rains have meant most places have been flooded, and instead the two armies have been camped out staring at one another. That and the Emperor is terribly unwell.” Gustavus said.

“Do you think he will die?” Ebba asked.

“It is a possibility.” Gustavus admitted. “The man is pushing seventy after all.” And nobody functioned as they were meant to when they reached that age.

“So, what happens if he does die?” Ebba asked. “Will there be peace?”

Gustavus shook his head. “I do not think so, neither side wants there to be peace. Not until the matters between them have been resolved.”

Ebba nodded and then changing the topic said. “I’ve been thinking about our children.”

Gustavus frowned, more because he was completely caught off guard by the change in topic. “What about them?” They had four children, three sons and one daughter, with the eldest two coming of age very soon.

“Well, we need to start considering marriages for them.” Ebba said.

“Marriages?” Gustavus replied. “To who?”

“Well, for Gustav, the obvious choice would be Sophie of Denmark.” Ebba said. “To renew the peace treaty.”

“Absolutely not.” Gustavus said. “I will not make my son suffer through a Danish marriage.”

“Then who would you marry him to?” Ebba asked.

“Saxony.” Gustavus replied.

“Saxony?” Ebba asked.

“Yes, Saxony is traditionally a Danish ally, but there have been arguments between the Elector and the King of Denmark. I think the time is right for us to change that equation.” Gustavus said.

“Very well, Saxony for Gustav. What about for Christina?” Ebba asked.

“The Palatinate.” Gustavus said.

“The Palatinate?” Ebba replied.

“Yes, we’re both allied with the Republic, and we both want to prevent Spain and the Empire from growing too powerful. It would make perfect sense.” Gustavus said. At Ebba’s frown, he added. “Unless there’s someone else you think she should marry?”

“No, I think that would be a good marriage.” Ebba said.

“Good.” Gustavus replied.

“What about Karl?” Ebba asked referring to their second son.

“Christina of Palatinate-Kleeburg.” Gustavus said.

Ebba nodded. “And Ulrik?”

“Ulrik is a child, leave him be for now.” Gustavus replied.

Ebba nodded but then asked. “Have you considered approaching the British?”

“The British?” Gustavus replied. “Not at all. They’re too closely tied to Denmark. The King’s sister gave birth to the Prince-Elect’s son last month.” They’d named the child Christian, in all originality.

“But would it hurt to consider breaking through the barriers that exist? After all, they are opposed to the Spanish just as much as we are.” Ebba said.

Gustavus sighed. “I will see whether they are receptive.” He doubted it though. There was very little that the British seemed receptive to, unless it included some sort of concession. And he’d made more than enough of those already.

VVD0D95 · Dec 31, 2021

Chapter 216: Bethlen

March, 1625

Snow was falling outside. Gabriel could see the little drops from the window where he stood. It was likely going to settle as well, which meant that he had made the right choice in ordering the castle gates shut. He didn’t want peasants coming to the walls demanding he let them in. It might have been the one good thing that the Palatinate of Hungary did, but he was not that man.

Indeed, that man had been tried and found guilty of treason, and executed. His head was resting on a spike on one of the castle walls, and had been from the day that Gabriel and his men had taken Pressburg and its castle. The people here hadn’t welcomed him as enthusiastically as they had done elsewhere, but that would change. When the war stopped and he was crowned King of Hungary with St Stephen’s Crown that would change.

It would all change.

He moved away from the window and took his seat in the middle of the table. With a nod of his head the singer-a woman with fiery hair-started to sing and the musicians accompanying her started to play. He didn’t recognise the song but it sounded nice. The melodies were pleasing to his ears.

This sort of music hadn’t been allowed by the Habsburgs, Gabriel knew. They considered it too un-Christian and not serious enough. But he allowed it. he loved this sort of music. It reminded him of home, and of the nights that he had spent carousing in his youth. He wasn’t quite so young anymore, his body ached and pained and his mind was filled with other concerns.

But he still enjoyed a good song. This woman was a good singer and she had a pretty face. Perhaps when the night was done he would see if she wanted some company. Singers like her usually did. It was their vice. As much as it was men’s. They might try and deny it, but Gabriel knew it as well as the next man did.

The song changed then, the melody got slower, the vocals took on a mournful tune. He listened and waited. He raised his cup signalling for a refill and waited. A guard appeared at his ear and whispered. “Everything is secure, Sire. Nothing is amiss.”

“The prisoners?” Gabriel asked. Referring to the men of the castle garrison who’d refused to surrender when the castle had fallen.

“Chained and secured.” The guard replied.

“Excellent.” Gabriel said.

The guard departed allowing Gabriel the chance to focus on the singer and the music she sung. This time the tune had changed to a faster number, and he found himself staring intently at the singer. There was something about her that was quite addictive. What it was he didn’t know, but he found that he couldn’t look away.

Every time she moved, his eyes followed her and every time she stopped he found himself hoping she would go on. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was intoxicating and terrifying. He continued to watch her as the song changed, this time becoming another mournful number. He vaguely recognised the melody.

It was part of an old folk song regarding the death of the last Arpad King of Hungary. A song that was usually sung at funerals. He frowned. Why would she be singing that song now? He looked around the room for his Chamberlain, surely the man would’ve told her what to sing? But his Chamberlain was nowhere to be found.

His frowned deepened. That was even stranger. His Chamberlain never left the room without him.

Just as he was about to stand, the door was flung open and armed men stormed into the room. Gabriel’s eyes widened. “What the bloody hell are you doing?!” He exclaimed. He wanted to move but for some reason his body wouldn’t comply.

Instead he watched as the men who’d entered the room cut down his men. He watched as they gave no quarter and as dashes of red stained the floors. He watched as the men who had entered the room continued to storm in and fill the place.

The singer hasn’t stopped.

Gabriel thought to himself. Why hadn’t she stopped? Singers were not brave people. Not usually. Unless…

“You!” A figure snarled.

Gabriel blinked. There was a man towering over him. Was that Habsburg livery he was wearing?

Gabriel staggered to his feet and tried to draw his dagger but found that it wasn’t where it was supposed to be. He frowned and then looked at the man.

“What do you want?”

“To be rid of you, usurper.” The man snarled.

“Usurper?” Gabriel replied. “I am no usurper.”

The man snorted. “You are the closest thing to a usurper that has existed in these lands for centuries, and now you will die.”

“Is that so?” Gabriel replied, false confidence filling him.

He went to swing at the man but was deflected and then got winded by a punch to the stomach. As he was hunched over, the man slammed into him again, sending him sprawling back.

The man came at him, grabbing him by the throat and somehow lifting him up and over the table sending him flying into the wall. Still the music continued. Gabriel struggled to his feet only to be greeted by a kick to the face. He slumped back down.

Maybe if he just lay there they would leave him be?

That proved to be a forlorn hope as the figure from before came to him then and dragged him up into a sitting position.

“Watch as your rebellion dies, usurper.” The man snarled.

Gabriel watched as his men were slaughtered where they stood. The music still played. He watched as everything he had worked for was turned to ash. He watched and he laughed and he laughed. Somehow he had missed the trick and it was all crashing down around him.

VVD0D95 · Jan 1, 2022

Chapter 217: Next Generation

May, 1625

Arthur sighed as the food was removed from the table. He’d managed to eat everything on his plate without getting heartburn, but by God was he bored. He never enjoyed weddings, and he’d had to attend three in the last two months. It was as if something new had come over the court. At least this wedding was for someone he cared about.

His uncle Robert, Duke of Gloucester and Kintyre was getting married to Charlotte de la Trémoille, sister of some important French nobleman, and apparently, the woman his uncle loved dearly. Arthur looked up the table at the newlyweds. They seemed happy, the bride was laughing at something his uncle had said, which was a good sign he supposed. Especially when one considered how the Countess of Newport had glowered during her own wedding feast to the Earl of Newport. But then Newport had been necking some serving woman.

“Why the glower, lad?” A voice to his left asked.

Arthur turned and smiled as his eyes lighted upon his uncle Charles, his father’s man in Scotland. “I’m bored.” He said truthfully, there was no point lying to his uncle, the man seemed able to spot a lie from a mile away.

“Weddings aren’t your thing, are they?” His uncle asked.

Arthur shook his head. “They’re so long, unnecessarily so, how does anyone stand it?”

His uncle smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

Arthur leaned forward intrigued. His uncle leaned in a little closer. “Nobody likes weddings, apart from those getting married and old maids wanting to think about what might have been. And the parents of the bride and groom of course. Everyone handles it by drinking, eating and laughing to excess.”

Arthur frowned. “Why?”

“Because to do anything else would be terribly rude.” His uncle said as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “And there is nothing we hate more in this Kingdom than being rude.”

Arthur giggled, in a most unmanly fashion then stopped and asked. “What do you make of the new Duchess of Gloucester?”

His uncle’s smile widened. “She is a good woman and I think she will be good for Robert.”

Arthur bit back a sigh of irritation, that was the exact same answer his father and mother had given when he’d asked them. They hadn’t elaborated further when he’d asked them what they meant, and thus he didn’t expect his uncle to do so either.

Thus, he was pleasantly surprised when his uncle did just that.

“Robert has always been a restless soul, Arthur. He’s someone who has always needed adventure. In the past myself and your aunt Mary used to provide that adventure, but then I got married and went northward, and Mary has now gone off to Denmark. He needs someone by his side who will keep him busy and someone who will not let him get too wild.”

“And Lady Trémoille will do that?” Arthur asked. It seemed slightly unfair to expect so much from one person.

“I think so, and from what I have observed she is more than a match for him.” His uncle said.

“How so?” Arthur asked, though he wasn’t actually sure if he wanted to know the answer to that.

Thankfully, his uncle merely winked and said. “Never you mind.”

Arthur was about to weakly protest, when he heard the first sounds of music being played. A melody to get people to dance. He looked to the top of the table and saw his uncle leading his wife to the dance, as the King did the same for the Queen. Arthur looked back to his uncle Charles and asked. “Are you not going to ask Aunt Hedwig to dance, Uncle?”

His uncle shook his head. “Your aunt isn’t feeling too well. So, she’s remaining seated for the time being and I will accompany her in that.”

“Ah.” Arthur said, he turned and briefly saw Lucy Rich flash him a smile, Arthur nodded to her and then when Mary Digby did the same, he blushed.

His uncle clearly saw the blush for the older man teasingly asked. “And who is that?”

“Mary Digby.” Arthur stammered out.

“And do you like this Mary Digby?” His uncle asked.

Arthur stammered some non-response which got his uncle chuckling. But then the man’s tone changed and it became serious. “Just remember who you are, Arthur. Have fun, flirt, maybe kiss, but do not go beyond that.”

“I won’t.” Arthur said sombrely. He was aware that the King was trying to arrange a marriage for him to a daughter of the Prince of Orange-assuming the Prince had survived the great battle of Holland-Diep-and he wouldn’t jeopardise that.

“Good.” His uncle said. “Now, if you would excuse me, I must depart, for my wife is calling.” His uncle rose and disappeared into the throng.

Arthur looked around, and saw that the area for dancing was full. He briefly contemplated going to dance but decided against it. Instead he remained where he was and watched. It was always more fun to do the watching than to be watched he thought.

As the music quickened, Arthur found himself wondering what it would be like to be married. Would it be like what his parents’ relationship was like, or like the horror show that the Earl and Countess of Newport’s marriage was like? He genuinely hoped it was like the former and not the latter. The latter would be madness, he thought. Most definitely.

He supposed only time would tell.

VVD0D95 · Jan 2, 2022

Chapter 218: Bohemia

July, 1625

Maximilian, King of Bohemia and Hungary, Archduke of Austria and a host of other titles shifted in his chair. The damned thing was very uncomfortable with a sharp back and a nut in the centre that dug into him. His uncle Rudolf had had the chair made, supposedly so that the King of Bohemia could never rest easy and would thus remember his duty.

Maximilian found the damned thing uncomfortable and made a note to throw it away after today. Regardless of what anyone else said. He’d declared himself of age a few months ago in much the same way. He’d walked into the council chamber one day, and sat in this same chair and spoken, and though he could see the surprise on people’s faces, nobody had said anything. His regency had ended then and there.

Having finally found a good position he stopped his shifting and spoke. “News from Hungary.” That was the most pressing issue right now. Gabriel Bethlen, a rebel and a traitor had been dealt with but his supporters hadn’t all been in Pressburg.

“His Imperial Highness Archduke Ferdinand has been gathering up the rebels, Sire.” Vilém, Chancellor of Bohemia said. “As such there remains a small pocket of resistance toward the border with the Ottomans that is all that needs to be dealt with.”

“Excellent.” Maximilian said, his uncle would be amply rewarded when the time came. “And what of Bethlen’s family?”

“They have thrown themselves at Your Majesty’s feet, Sire. They are begging for mercy.” Vilém said.

Maximilian considered this. Bethlen had been a minor noble before all of this, and yet he’d steadily managed to accrue power over a period of time, such that he’d been able to firmly challenge Maximilian’s authority in Hungary. If he allowed his own rage at the man to colour his actions toward the man’s family, would that lead to him creating a family of rebels that he and his descendants would need to worry about? Or could it resolve the issue once and for all.

Deciding to heed his mother’s advice, he asked. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should pardon them, Sire.” Vilém said. “Pardon them and allow them to return to their significantly diminished estates.”

“Why?” Maximilian asked.

“Because it will prevent Your Majesty from seeming overly harsh, it will allow Your Majesty to also display benevolence and a kindness that will make it much harder for them to strike back against.” Vilém said.

“I think that the Chancellor is right, Sire.” Helmuth Kohary, a member of the Hungarian aristocracy who spent a vast amount of time in Bohemia, said.

Maximilian looked at him and asked. “Would the other Hungarian nobility find me weak if I did this?” Weakness was a poison that could destroy even the strongest of foundations, that was what his uncle Ferdinand had taught him.

“I do not think so, Sire.” Helmuth said. “Indeed, I believe that by being generous toward Bethlen in this sense Your Majesty would surprise the nobles and in that surprise Your Majesty could garner more than if Your Majesty pursued an aggressive stance.”

“Explain.” Maximilian commanded, though he had a rough idea of what the man was getting at.

“Well, when Your Majesty acts benevolently, the nobles will be more willing to listen to certain requests or demands that Your Majesty makes. Therefore, I think, Sire, that it is within Your Majesty’s interests to be benevolent within reason toward Bethlen’s family.” Kohary said.

Maximilian grunted in acknowledgement. “Very well, thank you for that.” He decided to turn the topic of conversation to another issue. “Now, we have received word from our uncle the Emperor.” Maximilian said, noting how everyone leaned forward.

“The Imperial and Spanish forces have defeated the Dutch at the Battle of Holland Diep and are now marching on the main cities of the Republic. Rotterdam had fallen when the letter was sent.” Maximilian said.

There were cheers at that, and Maximilian noted how his mother’s smile widened. Maximilian smiled as well, that was good news, the traitors were finally being given their comeuppance. However, that was not all. He raised a hand to silence his councillors. “This is good news and we are all rightly pleased. However, it is not the end. The Dutch are going to keep fighting until the end, especially as Prince Maurice and his brother are still out there somewhere. I want everyone keeping their eyes and ears open to any suggestion of where they might be.”

“Does Your Majesty think that they will try and come here, Sire?” Someone asked.

“I think it is possible that they might try and flee somewhere where they know they can be safe. It may be within the Empire it may not be. But we must keep a close eye.” Maximilian said.

“Yes, Sire.” Came the reply.

“To that end,” Maximilian continued. “I think the time has come for us to seal the negotiations with the French.”

As far as he could remember there had been negotiations for his marriage for some time. At one point he’d been meant to marry Infanta Margaret, but then that had fallen through and now, well now the French were offering a Princess with a large dowry, and he knew he’d be a fool to not see it through.

“I agree, Sire.” Vilém said. “Especially if we are to ensure there is no meddling over Dutch affairs.”

“How sure are we that King Louis won’t do that?” Maximilian asked. He had a rough estimate of the French King and the man didn’t quite seem like he knew how to do anything other than interfere.

“As long as he feels secure in himself or is busy dealing with other things I don’t think he will get involved, Sire.” Vilém said.

“Very well, get in touch with the French ambassador. Tell him that we wish to speed along negotiations. A marriage before the year is out.” Maximilian said.

“Yes, Sire.” Vilém said.

“That is all.” Maximilian finished, standing up and walking out of the room.

VVD0D95 · Jan 3, 2022

Chapter 219: Brother France

September, 1625

Dearest Louis,

I write to you to inform you that you were right.

Marriage to Savoy has proven far more fulfilling and hopeful than I could have imagined.

It helps that Ferdinando is of an age with myself and shares similar interests to me.

There has been a change in my times and I think that perhaps a pregnancy may be on the horizon.

I look forward to your reply.

Your loving sister

Christine.

Louis smiled as he finished reading the letter, he folded it up and placed it into his pocket. Christine liking her husband and seemingly pregnant was a good thing, it meant that the alliance with Savoy was proving to be a success, despite his sister’s earlier grumblings. That combined with Minette moving off to Bohemia to marry Maximilian suggested that the family policy of prestigious marriages was working.

Which given the international scene was a good thing. For too long France had been outside of events and the time to change that had come. With luck, things would continue their trajectory and they could soon assert themselves on the international stage as the first nation of Europe.

Of course, for that to happen, they needed to know exactly what was happening in the Republic. To that end, he cleared his throat and looked at the marquis de Sillery and asked. “What news do you bring?”

Sillery took a moment to compose himself before answering. “Since their victory at Holland-Diep, the Imperial and Spanish forces have taken Rotterdam and roughly seventeen smaller towns and villages. They are fast approaching The Hague.”

Louis nodded, that wasn’t the best of news but it was something. “And will The Hague fall?”

“I believe so, Sire.” Sillery replied. “The Dutch army has been broken, their navy scattered. Their leaders are in the wind. I think it will be a matter of time before The Hague and Amsterdam both haven fallen.”

Louis made a note to come back to asking what the consequences of those two cities falling would be and instead asked. “Has there been any word on Prince Maurice or his brother?” Louis had counted on Maurice standing firm against all the odds, and thus had been quite disappointed to learn that the man had fled.

“Nothing, Sire.” Sillery said. “They seem to have completely disappeared. Though the Prince’s family has apparently made plans to board a ship and depart for London.”

“London?” Louis said, he wondered whether King Henry would accept them, after all, the man had been surprisingly quiet since his humiliating defeat at the Battle of the Celtic Sea some time ago.

“Yes, Sire. It seems that the King of the British Isles has decided to offer them sanctuary if they choose to accept.” Sillery said.

“No doubt earning the ire of both Brussels and Madrid.” Louis commented.

“Indeed, Sire.” Sillery said.

Louis exhaled then turned the conversation back to the possibility of The Hague and Amsterdam falling. “If The Hague and Amsterdam fall, what will this do for international trade?”

Champigny, Minister of Finance answered his question. “It would cause a financial crisis, Sire. Several prominent French merchants have made investments in Amsterdam, should the city fall into Spanish and Imperial hands then those investments would be lost. This could cause a crisis of confidence that comes back to hurt our own economy.”

“So, it would be within our own interest to try and stop them from falling.” Louis surmised.

Champigny nodded but then added. “Under normal circumstances, yes, I would be arguing for that, Sire. But not now.”

Louis frowned. “Why?”

Champigny shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “There is a lack of funds for a proper campaign, Sire. There is enough to keep the Kingdom out of debt but not enough to finance the sort of campaign that would be needed to prevent Amsterdam from falling.”

“So, the alternative is to just sit there and do nothing.” Louis grumbled, he didn’t like that. Not one bit. “Although I suppose I could try and get some sort of settlement.” He doubted whether a settlement would be reached, his brother in law was not the sort to seek a settlement after something like this. As for the Emperor, he didn’t know much about the man.

“I think perhaps attempting to reach one would be beneficial, Sire.” Champigny said.

“Then that is what I will do.” Louis decided. “Though there is one benefit from all of this.” He added as the thought came to him.

“Sire?” Champigny asked tentatively.

“With the Republic likely to fall the damned Huguenots have lost one of their greatest supporters.” Louis said, it was no secret that the Huguenots had only been as bold as they had been previously because they had received support from the Republic, be it through arms or trade. With the Republic one step away from extinction, that was gone. “As such I think the time has come for us to look at the terms of the agreement between the Crown and the Huguenots.”

“And force them into a situation that is far more amenable to the Crown?” Champigny asked.

“Exactly.” Louis said. “The era of tolerance is over. Now is the time for action.”

“I can draw up an estimate of how much we could gain, Sire.” Champigny offered.

“Do so.” Louis commanded.

“At once, Sire.” Champigny said.

Louis nodded then rose. “Unless there is anything else, this meeting is at an end.” He pushed his chair back and walked out of the room. As he entered the hallway he found himself wondering where to go. He and Anne weren’t talking because of some damned argument they’d had, and the children would no doubt be busy with sleep or their lessons. Perhaps he could visit Marshal, Marshal always knew how to rest his soul. Yes, he’d visit Marshal and relax for a time. He looked one way then another and then led himself to where Marshal’s chambers were.

VVD0D95 · Jan 3, 2022

France

VVD0D95 · Jan 4, 2022

Chapter 220: Scotland’s News

November, 1625

Charles watched as Hedwig lifted her knife and fork and ate with gusto. That was a good sight as far as he was concerned. After all, during Robert’s wedding, Hedwig had been ill and thus unable to do anything that might bring her enjoyment. Why she’d fallen ill they still didn’t know, but she had recovered now and that was all that mattered.

“I had a letter from Anna earlier.” Hedwig said, putting down her knife and fork.

“About?” Charles asked, he was happy that his wife and sister-in-law wrote to one another, it showed that things were good between them.

“The news from the Republic.” Hedwig said.

“Ah.” Charles replied. The Republic that once former great bastion of Protestantism that had been reduced to nothingness by a rampant Emperor and Spain. The overhaul had been alarming. “And what did she have to say about it?”

“That London is a mess, everyone seems to be running around panicking. Some think that the Spanish mean to turn their eyes towards us once they are done with the Republic, whilst others argue that the Emperor means to target the Palatinate when this is done.” Hedwig said.

“And what do you think?” Charles asked. He knew what his brother thought, they wrote regularly to one another and Henry was of the view that the Spanish would be too busy consolidating their new conquest to think about anything else.

“I think that the Emperor may try and strongarm the Protestant electorates into voting for his son in law as King of the Romans rather than any move to target them for being Protestant.” Hedwig replied.

Intrigued, Charles asked. “Why do you say so?” He had always thought that the Emperor’s nephew, the King of Bohemia would get the nod rather than some Spanish Infante whose only claim to fame was being the son in law of the Emperor.

“The Emperor knows his son in law, he doesn’t really know his nephew. Furthermore, it would be the perfect way of repaying Spain.” Hedwig said.

“And causing a division within his family.” Charles pointed out. “I don’t think the Emperor is the sort to do that.”

“You would be surprised at what some will do to keep things for those they care and know.” Hedwig said.

Charles raised an eyebrow at his wife and asked. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re talking about your brother here?” Hedwig’s brother had gone and done something rather strange, at least if Hedwig was to be believed. What it was he’d done exactly, Charles didn’t know for Hedwig refused to tell him, but there it was.

Hedwig snorted. “I’m not, I’m simply saying what I think the Emperor will do and why.”

Charles held up a hand in concession, and decided to change the topic. “I think the King is right to ignore the noise though.”

The noise mainly being other shouts and demands coming from people like Pym and the pamphleteers demanding war.

“Why?” Hedwig asked intrigued. “Surely it is within our interest to stop Spain from becoming too dominant?”

“It is yes, but trying to tackle them right on, now, in Europe would be madness. Everyone in Parliament may have forgotten the debacle of the Celtic Sea but the King hasn’t. And as such until the naval report is ready and, in his hands, he’d be better off not acting.” Charles answered.

“Even if it means Spain grows stronger?” Hedwig asked.

“Especially if it means that.” Charles said. “We cannot afford another Celtic Sea.” He knew how much that defeat stung Henry and how desperately he wanted to right it, but Henry was also aware that things could quite quickly turn on him if there was another debacle like it.

“Why has it taken so long for the report to reach the King’s hands?” Hedwig asked. “It was commissioned two years ago.”

Charles sighed. “I do not know, but I suspect the reason for the report taking so long is also the reason it is needed.”

“How do you mean?” Hedwig asked.

“Corruption, people trying to hide their responsibility for the failures in the Navy. I’ve heard that some are trying to pin it all on the former Earl of Nottingham.” Charles replied. And that was the thing that most disgusted him. Trying to pin everything on a dead man instead of fronting up and admitting to mistakes.

“Why in God’s good name would they try and blame it all on Nottingham?” Hedwig asked. “It makes no sense whatsoever!”

“Because some of those who are no doubt responsible are trying to ingratiate themselves with Warwick, and they don’t want to give him cause to consider replacing them.” Charles answered. According to Henry’s letters, Warwick as the new Lord Admiral was instituting sweeping changes, which Henry hoped would improve the navy, whilst also being concerned that Warwick wasn’t actually addressing the root causes of decay.

“Do you think Warwick could have something to do with it all?” Hedwig asked. “After all, you did mention that he had claimed to have wanted command during Celtic Sea after the fact.”

“It is possible.” Charles conceded. “Though how far he would go to achieve a complete overhaul I do not know.”

“I suppose we will just have to wait and see.” Hedwig said.

“Indeed.” Charles agreed.

“If the navy report comes through soon though, what would you do?” Hedwig asked suddenly.

Charles contemplated the question; he had had a lot of time to think through what he would do. He had a lot of time to think after all, and when he replied his answer was to the point. “I would implement the changes recommended and then I would strike at Spain’s North American colonies.”

“Oh?” Hedwig asked. “Why there?”

“Because the Spanish have been overly focused on Europe, and I do not see that changing any time soon. We have the perfect opportunity to strike and enlarge our own Empire. It would make sense to strike where the Spanish are weak.” Charles said.

“Is there enough resource to achieve that?” Hedwig asked.

“If there is a will, there is a way.” Charles replied.

VVD0D95 · Jan 5, 2022

Chapter 221: Maurice

January, 1626

Humiliation that was a feeling that Maurice constantly felt. His father had waged a long war against the Spanish and not once had he ever seemed as though he would lose the Republic. Maurice had also fought a long war and had felt the same until recently.

The war had ended, the Republic had fallen and Maurice and his family had fled. They’d gone from The Hague to Amsterdam, and when the Imperial army had approached Amsterdam, they’d boarded a ship and fled to London. His brother Frederick and half the court had accompanied them.

Whenever he thought about it, he felt angry and ashamed. He should have stayed and fought. He was old, he could’ve died there instead of having to live with the humiliation of what had happened.

He was just thankful that King Henry had welcomed them, and had granted them rooms at Hampton Court alongside an allowance. The allowance was enough to sustain them for the time being but Maurice knew that things would get tougher the longer they were here.

He glanced at the King who was sat reading something, and wondered what would happen. The King hadn’t engaged in fighting the Spanish for long, not after the disaster of the Celtic Sea and whilst Maurice wanted to blame him for what had gone wrong, he couldn’t. Not really.

The King put whatever he was reading to one side and looked at Maurice. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“Not at all.” Maurice said.

“How are you finding everything?” The King asked.

Maurice wasn’t sure whether the King meant, how was he finding the exile or Hampton Court, either way, he decided to answer as if he’d been asked the latter. “The rooms are nice, thank you, my wife and children are settled in nicely.”

“Good.” The King said. “And more generally?”

Maurice hesitated. He didn’t want to say what he really felt, it was never good to show weakness to an ally, but at the same time there was no point lying. “I am concerned.” Was all he said.

“Rightly so.” The King said, in a manner that suggested he had heard something new.

“What is it?” Maurice asked.

The King sighed. “Word has come from the Netherlands; it seems that the last piece of open resistance has fallen. De Witt and Keppel were beaten, captured and executed.”

Maurice nodded. He wasn’t surprised, neither of the men mentioned were warriors and De Witt could barely stand and walk at the best of times. “Have you had word from Spain or the Emperor?” Maurice asked, no doubt both men would want him handed over.

“I have.” The King said.

“And?” Maurice asked.

“They want me to hand over you and your brother, so that you can face judgement.” The King said.

“But not my children?” Maurice asked surprised, he would have thought that the King Of Spain would want to destroy his family once and for all.

The King shook his head. “I think someone must have spoken to Philip for he has offered to restore your eldest son in blood to the estates of Orange if you surrender yourself.”

Maurice raised an eyebrow, now this was most definitely not what he had expected. “What’s the catch?” He asked.

The King laughed. “I had the same thought; I was just going over the proposal now.”

“May I see it?” Maurice asked, experience had taught him that it was better to see such a thing with one’s own eyes rather than rely on hearsay.

The King nodded and took the paper out and handed it over.

Maurice opened it and read through it.

To King Henry,

I write to you to state that I have no foul intentions to Princess Catherine or her children. As far as I am concerned, they are not guilty of Maurice of Nassau’s crimes.

I am willing to grant Prince William his inheritance in return for his father surrendering himself into my custody.

Maurice of Nassau and his brother Frederick have committed grave crimes against my person and that of the Emperor’s, and they must face punishment.

Hand them over to me, and I will ensure that Prince William succeeds as Prince of Orange.

Yours

P.R.

Maurice handed the letter back to the King. He was impressed that the letter was in English, he had thought that it would be in French or maybe Latin. Perhaps one of the Irish exiles who served Madrid had written the letter for the man.

He looked at the King then and asked. “What are you going to do?”

“What would you do, if you were in my position?” The King asked.

“I’d hand my brother and I over.” Maurice said simply.

The King raised an eyebrow at that. “Why?”

“Because the longer you keep my brother and I here, the longer you allow us to stay with you, the more likely it is that Madrid will seek to deal with you. And whilst I appreciate that you are a devout Protestant, Sire, I do not think that you should subject your people to that.” Maurice said.

“So, you want me to hand you and your brother over to the Spanish?” The King asked.

“I am not saying that you should. I am only saying that if I were you, then I would.” Maurice said.

The King snorted. “Do you have any desire left to fight?”

Maurice shook his head. “I am old and tired. I know I do not have long left to live. I want to see my home again before I die. I would like to see it one last time.”

“And your family?” The King asked.

“They will be better off without me dragging them down.” Maurice said.

“Do you trust the King of Spain?” The King asked.

“Not at all.” Maurice said. “But I trust you.”

The King sighed. “I will see what I can do.”

Maurice nodded, he would wait and see, and he would need to alert Frederick to this. His brother would need to flee beforehand. Only he would need to die for all of this.

VVD0D95 · Jan 6, 2022

Chapter 222: A Mother’s Wisdom

March, 1626

Anne walked arm in arm with her youngest son, Robert, Duke of Gloucester and Kintyre and sighed with contentment. After all the stress and strain of being Queen, the last few years had been a boon. She’d been able to relax, and watch everything and not have to worry about getting involved. Of course, when she was called upon, as she had been by her son, she was more than happy to get involved and to work things out. But for the most part, she was quite content to be left in Greenwich to her own devices.

She looked at her son then. Robert was tall, not as tall as Henry, but taller than Charles, and unlike both of his older brothers, he was broader, more muscular. He reminded Anne of her own father somewhat. He had grown into a fine young man and someone she was happy to call her son.

“You’re staring, Mother.” Robert said then.

Anne blinked. “Forgive me, Robert.”

Robert smiled. “How have you been, Mother?”

“Well enough.” Anne said. Well, as well as could be expected with stomach pains and back pains.

“Are you sure?” Robert asked.

Anne frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

Robert didn’t reply, instead he continued walking. Anne’s frown deepened but she let the matter drop. As they turned round a corner, she decided ask a question of her own. “And how have you found married life?” Her youngest son had always had a restless spirit, at one point she had been worried about what marrying Charlotte might do, whether they would make it work. The evidence as of now, that she could see, suggested that they were making it work.

“It agrees with me.” Robert replied, her son grinned.

“Tell me more.” Anne said intrigued.

“Well, I always thought that being married meant either ceaseless arguments and coldness or well, being like the King and Queen. Both aspects terrified me. So, I was relieved to find a healthy middle ground with Charlotte.” Robert said.

“Do explain.” Anne said, she was intrigued and delighted at what her son had said.

“Well, we both have our interests, sometimes they overlap, sometimes they don’t. Those that overlap we do together, and those that don’t, well we give them both a try and if we like them, we continue them together and if we don’t like them, well we let the other get on with it.” Robert said simply.

“Very mature of you.” Anne said.

Robert snorted. “Thank you, Mother.”

They continued walking, even though Anne could feel the pain in her back starting to flair up. She was having too much fun walking with her son to say anything though. To take her mind away from the pain she asked. “Are you planning on taking Charlotte out on the Lion?” The Lion was Robert’s own ship, built for him when he was a child. He had commanded on that ship during the ill-fated Battle of the Celtic Sea.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea just now.” Robert said.

Anne raised an eyebrow at her son. “Why not?”

“Well, the King has ordered all ships to remain in dock until the report comes out.” Robert said.

“That report has been long overdue, why is it taking so long?” Anne asked, she knew how frustrated Henry was about all that, she didn’t understand why he didn’t just get involved to try and speed things along.

“I am not sure why it is taking so long, but I know that most of the Admiralty is getting impatient.” Robert said.

“Understandably so. They want to sail not just remain on shore.” Anne replied.

“Indeed, though they listen to the King and do as he says. Though if he goes through with what the Prince of Orange wants, I fear there may be a mutiny.” Robert whispered.

“Truly?” Anne asked. She could understand people being upset, after all the Prince of Orange was a hero to many and nobody wanted to see Spain grow evermore powerful, but mutiny?

“Yes. Many of the officers lost brothers in the Battle of the Celtic Sea, if Prince Maurice surrenders himself, they think it will all have been for naught.” Robert replied.

“And have you made the King aware of this?” Anne asked, wincing as a spasm flashed through her.

“I have.” Robert replied, frowning, clearly, he’d seen her wince.

“And what has he said?” Anne asked.

“He said that he would speak with the Prince of Orange and see if an alternative could be worked out. After all the King of Spain has said he would restore the Prince’s children in blood.” Robert said.

“I wouldn’t trust anything the King of Spain says.” Anne said. She had once considered the Spanish to be the best of Princes, but that had been during the current King’s father’s lifetime, now she felt that the Spanish were worse than the Devil. Constantly desiring things that weren’t theirs.

“True but there aren’t a lot of options otherwise.” Robert replied. Anne opened her mouth to respond and then shut it abruptly, she was wracked by such severe pain that she had to tighten her grip on Robert’s arm.

“Mother?” Robert asked uncertainly.

“I…need…to…sit…down.” Anne gasped.

Robert didn’t say anything, instead he simply guided her down the pathway and to a bench, once they were seated, he spoke. “What is it?”

“My back.” Anne said, taking deep shuddering breaths. “It’s getting worse.”

“What’s getting worse?” Robert asked.

“The pain, the pain is getting worse.” Anne replied.

“Do…do you want to go back inside?” Robert asked.

Anne shook her head. “No, no, let’s say out here for a while. I want to enjoy the breeze.” Robert seemed hesitant but eventually relented.

VVD0D95 · Jan 7, 2022

Chapter 223: Report

June, 1626

After years of waiting the report was finally here. Henry wasn’t sure what had taken so long, but he wouldn’t grumble about that right now. Instead, he would read through it.

He opened up the document and started to read, his brow furrowing as he progressed through the document.

A report into the state of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.

Upon first inspection, one finds forty ships that appear to be in pristine condition. Fitted with the latest cannons and using the newest technologies to navigate the waves.

This is all fitting.

But as one digs deeper, one finds a Navy unchanged from the days of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. The same procedures for repairing ships are used, the same tools are used, and the same mindset is present.

The mindset that this is little more than a commercial fleet that may in time be called to fight is heavily detrimental to the defence of His Majesty’s realm.

Given the current dangers, the Royal Navy must view itself as a bastion of defence and attack, not as a simple merchant fleet. The days of sending merchant fleets to fight are disappearing quickly and the time has come for our Kingdom to realise this.

Henry winced, that was damning criticism, but criticism he had made of the fleet during a review of it a decade ago, his father had brushed him off. A peaceful King had no need of a warring fleet.

Henry continued reading.

The dockyards are an utter disgrace. We found several instances of clear corruption. Money changing hands and being used to fit certain ships that would never see the light of battle, instead of ships that would.

The Master of the King’s Dockyards, Sir Robert Maunsell is the guiltiest party in all of this. In return for a hefty fee, the man will prioritise your ship over those that are in genuine need of repair and fixing.

Whilst Maunsell is willing to listen to your complaints unless you pay him he will not fix the issues that exist.

The attitude that he adopts continues all the way down the line to the lowest dock worker. This is unsustainable.

Henry looked away from the report, pained. Maunsell. The man had helped build his first ship, he had helped advise Henry on the finer points of naval work. If he was truly this corrupt then what did that say about Henry’s judgement? How could he not have seen this? He had worked with Maunsell closely.

He sighed and looked at the report again.

Our recommendations are simple.

Firstly, we recommend a complete overhaul of the current system. Replacing Sir Robert with someone from within the navy who has experience at shipbuilding and mastering the docks. Additionally, we recommend that they are paid a salary that is fitting with the role they are required to do. This we believe would reduce the chances of corruption.

That was a fair comment, Henry didn’t think Maunsell’s salary had been changed in a decade, though he’d always refused a raise. Now Henry knew why.

Secondly, we recommend that instead of placing complete responsibility for the running of the Navy into the hands of the Lord Admiral, a board be created to advise him on matters both political and naval.

This Admiralty Board we feel would help present a clearer line of command and a clearer sense of who is responsible for what.

As part of the foundation of the Admiralty Board we would recommend that the Lord Admiral observe best practice from other Kingdoms and adopt those positions in a manner beneficial to the Kingdom.

The report ended there.

Or rather the summary of the report did. Henry looked at the actual report and decided that he would look through it properly after discussing the summary with Anna.

As if on cue, the door opened and Anna entered the room. She looked at the report and the summary and asked. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yes.” Henry said.

Anna took a seat next to him and asked. “Can I read it?”

Henry handed the summary over to her and watched as she read through it. Her eyebrows shot up at certain points and when she was done, she handed it back to him and said. “Well, that wasn’t as bad as you thought it might be.”

“Indeed.” Henry acknowledged.

“What are you going to do?” Anna asked.

“I’m going to have a long conversation with Robert Maunsell, see what he has to say for himself.” Henry said. He had decided to do that just then.

“Will he tell you the truth?” Anna asked.

Henry sighed. “I do not know, but I still have to speak with him.”

“Are you going to let him go from his position?” Anna asked.

“Yes.” Henry said.

Anna nodded but didn’t say anything to that, instead she said. “The Board of Admiralty is a good suggestion.”

“I know.” Henry replied. “I had been considering something similar myself.”

“Will Warwick approve of it?” Anna asked. “You know he’s been very determined to do things his own way.”

Henry snorted. That was one way of putting it. Warwick barked orders to everyone and expected them to be followed, he only moderated his tone when either Henry or Robert were involved. “He will do as I command or I will replace him.” Henry said simply.

Anna nodded. “I think that’s the right call.”

Henry grunted.

“Do you think not?” Anna asked.

“I don’t think it particularly matters what I think, the report is here, the suggestions are in the right step, and are common sense. They need to be implemented and I will implement them.” Henry said.

“You might want to sound a little more positive when you decide to talk about them to everyone else. People don’t want to feel as though the end of the world is coming, dear.” Anna said.

Henry snorted. “You’re right.”

Anna grinned. “I always am.” Henry laughed again and found himself extremely grateful that Anna was his wife.

VVD0D95 · Jan 8, 2022

Chapter 224: Consummation

August, 1626

The door shut as the last courtier left the room, and Vasili sighed in relief. The time for the consummation of his marriage with Irina had come and for some reason his father, the Tsar, had decided that they should treat it as if they were getting married again. There hadn’t been a wedding ceremony, but there had been a thanksgiving service at the Church and the great feast afterwards. No dancing, sadly - the Patriarch forbade such a "pagan" entertainment. Father had to agree with Cyprian on this - after all, his "Swedish" habits already created more than enough problems. Some of the foreign nobility remaining there in Moscow after war brought their own fashions, and for the wedding feast the Tsar agreed to serve the table for ladies at the same hall as that for men.

This meant the drinking had to be restrained. And Vasili knew that this is a good thing. More than one of his stolniks and friends could get carried away after they’d had a few drinks. The last time mixed feasts were a thing somewhere in Ivan III reign, probably the one of his namesake Vasili III. But things changed a lot since the times of Irina's glorious ancestor. In Ivan's reign vodka was only sold as a medicine, and a century and a half later some of his cousins, friends and courtiers were enamoured with "grain wine" way too much. Vasili knew that vodka was made fashionable to make it taxable, and sometimes wondered - what else of the things currently considered sinful would be taken for granted in the future for the sake of treasury?

Probably dancing? To make the nobility pay for new clothes the way it's done in Europe. No... sounds too silly.

Vasili moved to the bed and looked at Irina. She was beautiful, but he couldn’t help but remember the little girl who he’d grown up with. He sighed. “How are you?” He asked.

Irina looked at him and said. “About as well as can be expected.”

She was now in the gown, ladies headed by the Tsarina herself helped her to undress. "I spoke to the wife of the count De La Gardie. She complained a lot about Western-fashioned dress she ordered for her."

"I thought they were more comfortable, or is it something I don't know.” Vasili said.

Irina frowned at him. “Not really. Corset sounds like a torture device. A dress can well go without it. After all, a waistband is good for all purposes... Maria said that she convinced her husband that traditional dress is still the thing to wear. You only have to use more satin and less velvet and heavy gold-and-silver damask in this. The cut will stay the same, so there is no sin.

"And what's so bad about damask?"

"It's heavy, so some fools have to tolerate corsets and preaching of clergy and old ladies, just to have freedom of hands", - Irina leaned forward and whispered conspirationally. “Apparently, you men love to have us barely able to move our hands. While you have this new invention named pockets.”

Vasili laughed. “Pockets?”

“Yes!” Irina said.

“And what's to envy?” Vasili asked.

“You can store things in them.” Was what she said.

Vasili couldn’t help it, he started laughing again, and this time it didn’t stop, even when Irina pouted at him, that just made it worse. When he had finished laughing, he wiped a tear from his eye and said. “Sorry.”

“What’s so funny about my wanting to have pockets?” Irina asked.

“It’s just the way you said it.” Vasili said. He raised his voice. “I never thought girls would need them to collect their stuff”

"My mother would expect a servant to carry things around for her, but I think that Western ladies have the right idea regarding pockets."

Vasili smiled then deciding to turn the focus to what they had to do he asked. “Are you ready?”

The smile dropped from Irina’s face and instead it was replaced by a sigh and a blush. “Not yet.”

Vasili nodded, he was starting to feel nervous as well. “We don’t have to do it just yet.” He said.

Irina raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” Vasili said. “We can talk for a little bit if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much.” Irina replied.

“Very well.” Vasili said. He thought about what they could talk about, his mind was running blank when Irina spoke.

“What do you make of the Georgians?”

Vasili considered the question, he didn’t want to say anything too negative, after all his sister was to marry one of them, but at the same time there was something about some of them that didn’t sit right with him. “I think they are an interesting people.” Was all he said.

Irina snorted.

“What?” Vasili asked.

“I’ve seen how you look at them at court. I think you find them more than just interesting.” Irina said.

Vasili was about to issue a denial but the stern expression on Irina’s face suggested that that wouldn’t be a good idea, and so, sighing he replied. “Fine, I think some of them are very odd.”

Irina snorted. “I think some of them are very, very strange and rude.”

“I agree.” Vasili said grinning when Irina giggled. “I think they could do with some courtly lessons but the Tsar is content to leave them be, so there’s not really much that I can do.” And truth be told he didn’t really relish the thought of having to give lessons to them.

“Why does the Tsar tolerate them so much?” Irina asked.

“Politics.” Vasili said. “We need them and they need us.”

“So, we’re to tolerate their odd behaviour?” Irina asked.

“I’m afraid so.” Vasili said. He was about to add something when he heard movement outside the room. It seemed for a moment as though the door was to be opened, he was about to move off the bed when the movement outside stopped.

He sat back down and looked at Irina. She seemed to be staring at him. “Are you well?” He asked.

Irina bit her lip. “I think I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” Vasili asked.

“I am.” Irina said.

Vasili nodded and leaned forward, tentatively he pressed his lips to hers, she responded and then he pulled back. “Are you sure?” He asked once more, she nodded and then he moved back to kiss her. At the back of his mind he found himself wishing he’d listened to his friends and gotten some experience. He wasn’t going to be very good he knew, and that would leave a bad impression.

When Irina’s breath hitched, he ignored his doubts and followed her lead. Perhaps that was the way to go.

VVD0D95 · Jan 8, 2022

Chapter 225: Arguments

October, 1626

Catherine paced up and down the room, she couldn’t believe how foolish men could be sometimes. Especially men like her husband who were supposed to be smart. Instead of focusing on the things they could control, they wanted to put their fate into the hands of others who couldn’t be trusted. Just like her husband did, for something as naïve as honour! It was infuriating.

“Catherine, will you stop pacing around please.” Her husband, Maurice, Prince of Orange said.

Catherine stopped and stared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

Maurice didn’t even need to ask what she meant. “Because it is the right thing to do.”

“How?!” Catherine exclaimed. “How is it the right thing to do?”

Maurice sighed. “It will prevent Madrid from continuing to put pressure on the King here, it will allow for trade to flow freely and it will ensure that our son gets his inheritance.”

“Do you really think that the man in Madrid wants that to happen?” Catherine asked, she didn’t think her husband to be naïve, and she knew in her gut that King Philipp of Spain would never allow her son to inherit the County of Nassau. So, she couldn’t understand why Maurice was so convinced he would.

“I do not know. But I know that I cannot remain a burden here.” Maurice said, and as if to emphasise his point he started coughing quite violently, such that he had to take a napkin from a servant and cough into it. He kept a hold of it when the coughing stopped.

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked. “Has King Henry said anything?” She didn’t think the King would say anything, she had seen how that man looked at her husband, he practically admired the ground her husband walked on.

“No, but I cannot continue to remain here living off the scraps that I get from Whitehall.” Her husband said, sounding aggrieved.

“And you think it would be better to go to Madrid and hand yourself over for that idiot’s judgement?” Catherine asked.

“Yes.” Maurice said.

“Why?” Catherine asked. She knew she’d already asked this but she really wanted to know why, what was it that she wasn’t seeing?

“He will expect me to flee, he will expect me to run and then when I do, he will take it out on my people. And I cannot have that. If I go to Madrid, he will need to prove that he is a man of his word. Otherwise he will be dishonoured.” Maurice replied.

Catherine sighed. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Maurice said simply.

Catherine rubbed her eyes and then said. “You’re an idiot, Maurice of Nassau, a real idiot.”

Her husband laughed.

“If you think that Philip of Spain is going to even hear what you have to say or even remember that he made a promise you’re a fool and perhaps I should just deal with you myself.” Catherine said, her anger allowing her to say things she would never normally say. “You are no good to anyone dead, you are my husband and our children’s father. You are needed alive, and with us. Not rotting in some prison in Madrid.”

She continued. “And yes, we might have lost the Netherlands just now, but there is nothing to say we can’t get them back. You yourself said that there is a possibility of support coming in the future, from Britain, from Denmark, from those who are not happy with a powerful Spain or Emperor.”

“You are better alive than dead.” Catherine finished off.

Maurice exhaled. “And what good am I in that case? I might be alive, but I am too old to mount another campaign. I will not get to see our children reach adulthood. Better I die now than let them see me decay.”

Catherine leaned forward and slapped Maurice, twice. “Don’t you dare talk like that ever again! Do you hear me?!”

Maurice simply looked at her, expressionless. He didn’t even touch his cheek where there was a red mark forming. “Do you have an alternative solution?” He asked softly.

“I do.” Catherine said.

“And what might that be?” Maurice asked.

“We go to Sweden.” Catherine replied. “Gustavus has said that he is more than willing to accommodate us, and he will grant you a title and estates to go with that title. You won’t be dependent on Royal Favour unlike here. And it will give our children security.”

Maurice seemed to be considering what she had said, his brow furrowed. “And when would we be able to depart?” He eventually asked.

“We could leave in two weeks, if the weather holds.” Catherine said, hoping that her husband would agree.

Maurice coughed again and then said. “Very well.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow. “You agree?”

“I agree.”

Catherine moved forward and embraced her husband tightly. She whispered into his clothes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

VVD0D95 · Jan 10, 2022

Chapter 226: Couple Things

February, 1627

The moment the door closed; Anna Mauricia shot up. “How was it?” She asked her husband.

Ferdinand sighed, he’d just spent seven hours in a meeting with her father, the Emperor and with his advisors, and he looked absolutely exhausted. Anna would feel bad about immediately asking him, but she needed to know.

Thankfully, Ferdinand seemed to appreciate that for he said. “It went well.” He sat down and continued. “The Emperor has asked that I venture to The Hague and to Amsterdam to meet with the prominent merchants and nobles that are still there.”

“Just you?” Anna asked.

“Just me.” Ferdinand confirmed.

“Why?” Anna asked, surely something like that required the both of them?

“He did not elaborate but I was going to ask that you stay here as well.” Ferdinand said.

“Why?” Anna demanded, did Ferdinand think of her as some weak little wallflower, that after giving birth she wouldn’t be able to do anything?

Ferdinand rubbed his eyes and replied. “Because I need you to make sure that the Emperor doesn’t do anything foolish whilst I am away.”

Anna frowned. “Why would the Emperor do anything foolish?” She asked, after all, her father was the most sensible man she knew, other than her husband.

“He talked about getting me elected as King of the Romans.” Ferdinand explained, looking at her through bleary eyes.

“Really?!” Anna exclaimed. She had thought her father might consider it, but she hadn’t thought it would be this soon.

“Yes.” Ferdinand answered. “He said he trusts me to carry on working what he’s spent his entire reign doing. And that he could think of no one better to succeed him.”

“But you don’t agree?” Anna asked.

“I think it would be a terrible idea.” Ferdinand replied.

“Why?” Anna tilted her head, wondering what was running through her husband’s mind at that.

“Well, for starters if I got elected it would be through whatever arm twisting the Emperor did of the Protestant Electors which would mean that I’d be wholly dependent on them as Emperor, limiting my room for movement. Secondly, it would also strain relations with Prague, given that Maximilian firmly expects to be nominated for the position, and right now we shouldn’t be straining relations with anyone.” Ferdinand said.

Those were all sensible reasons and she was sure that her father would agree with them, but from the way Ferdinand had said he needed her here, she got the feeling that her father hadn’t. “And what did the Emperor say when you told him this?”

“He said not to worry and that he’d handle Maximilian.” Ferdinand replied.

“That doesn’t sound encouraging.” Anna said, she wondered what her father had meant by that, and whether he’d really thought through just what he was going to do.

“I agree, hence why I need you here to make sure he doesn’t do anything.” Ferdinand said.

“What can I do?” Anna asked. “It’s my Mother who has the influence over him.” Despite being a mother herself, Anna was still viewed as a child by both her parents. It was Ferdinand they saw as an adult and him they went to for things that they needed done, which angered her greatly.

“Well, your Mother listens to you.” Ferdinand said. “Work on her.”

Anna opened her mouth to protest, to say that she didn’t know what to do to get her mother to see sense, but she shut her mouth before she could formulate a protest. She did know what she could do and she would need time, but if she did it right, it could work. Eventually, she nodded. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.” Ferdinand replied smiling.

Anna smiled in return and then asked. “Have you written to your brother?” the King of Spain had written several heated letters to Ferdinand, about what she didn’t know, but she did know that every time a letter came her husband swore most violently.

“I have.” Ferdinand replied.

“And what did you say?” Anna asked.

“I told him to reconsider declaring an embargo of Swedish goods, that doing so would only hurt Spanish relations with other powers. I also told him to stop trying to meddle in the affairs of the Low Countries and to support the Emperor’s bid to create us King and Queen of the Netherlands.” Ferdinand said.

“You support that?” Anna asked surprised, she would’ve thought her husband would be opposed given what he’d said about not wanting to be in consideration for the King of the Romans title.

“I do.” Ferdinand said.

“Why?” Anna queried.

“The Netherlands hasn’t been part of the Empire since the reign of our grandfather, and as such if we assume a regal title it cannot be considered a breach of Imperial law. Furthermore, we must assume the title to balance out the different forces and interests within our new realm.” Ferdinand said.

“And you think that we will be the first ones crowned King and Queen of the Netherlands.” Anna said.

“Yes, I do.” Ferdinand answered. “The Emperor said as much today.”

“I see, and when do you leave for Amsterdam and The Hague?” Anna asked. She would need a rough timeline to know when to implement her plan on her mother.

“In three days’, time.” Ferdinand said.

“Very well.” Anna replied, she’d get started today then.

VVD0D95 · Jan 11, 2022

Chapter 227: Danish Walkabouts

April, 1627

There was a sharp breeze blowing in as they got out of the carriage and stepped foot onto solid ground. Mary’s stomach did that odd twisting thing it usually did now, she had spoken about it with her doctors and they said it was normal to have such things occur when you were in the early stages of pregnancy. How she had become pregnancy so quickly after giving birth to their son she didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to complain.

Christian linked their arms together, she looked at him and smiled, then they walked forward to greet the man who was there to show them around the Homes for Naval Workers, that she and Christian had decided would be where homeless sailors and their families could stay for the time being. Given the changes in government focus, it seemed as if it would be incredibly necessary.

“Your Highnesses.” The man said, his Danish suggesting that he might be from the south.

“Mr Andersson.” They both replied.

“Please follow me.” The man said, turning at once.

Christian unlinked their arms and stepped forward, following protocol and walked forward so that their guide was trailing him, Mary stepped forward as well to keep distance between their guide and her husband. She knew Christian didn’t like people who he didn’t know too close to him.

“Now, to your left you will see the warehouse.” The man said.

Mary and her husband duly looked to the left and saw a towering building with small windows and wooden doors. “This is where the sailors’ children can start preparing for joining their fathers in the field correct?” Mary asked.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Andersson said. “It contained a grand hallway and six different rooms all containing different aspects of what the children would need to know.”

“And how safe are the materials?” Mary asked. She knew it was an odd question, she didn’t need to see the frown on her husband’s face to know that it was. But having so many children here going over things that were dangerous even for adults, well, that caused some wariness in her.

“Very safe, Your Highness. Only the best equipment has been bought and placed here.” Andersson said.

“Very well.” Mary said.

“Continue.” Christian commanded.

Andersson bobbed his head and walked on. Mary and Christian followed and then took the lead. They walked through an open doorway which had the Royal Crest on its arch denoting that this was a Royal sponsored building.

Once they were inside Mary noted that there were three or four doors each of which hung slightly ajar.

“What are these?” She asked nodding to the doors.

“These are the guards’ rooms, Your Highness.” Andersson said. “They are big enough for the guards and their families.”

Mary nodded and looked at Christian to silently ask if he had any more questions, Christian shook his head and they continued down the hallway, stopping when they came to another building, this one had two tall and muscular guards standing in front of it.

“This is the main residence building, Your Highnesses.” Andersson said.

“Let’s go inside and see.” Christian commanded. Andersson murmured something to the guards who turned and opened the doors, Christian entered first, followed by Mary, Andersson came on their heels.

As she stepped into the building, Mary gasped. It was large, that was for sure, and it had a large ceiling work showing the King as Poseidon and Christian as one of his sons, guiding the sailors toward the light of the land.

She looked at Christian to see how he had responded, but her husband was walking onward, not bothering to look upward. Mary hurried after him, they stopped before a door that was open. “The dining room area, I presume.” Christian asked.

Andersson nodded. “Exactly right, Your Highness.”

“How many people can it fit?” Christian asked.

“Sixty people, Sir.” Andersson said.

“And how many people are you expecting to take lodge here?” Christian asked.

“Fifty, Sir. Fifty have come and asked for lodging.” Andersson said.

“And that includes women?” Mary asked, she had a look around the building again, and couldn’t spot anything that resembled a woman’s quarter. Where would the women go when they wanted some time for themselves?

“Yes, Your Highness.” Andersson said.

“Where?” Mary asked.

“Please follow me, Your Highness.” Andersson said, he turned away from the dining area, turned right and walked down the hallway, Mary and Christian followed, they took a twisting route down the hallway, passed a series of locked doors before stopping. Andersson pushed open a door and stepped inside.

Mary followed, the room was big, though what use this would be to women with it being so far away she didn’t know.

“This room is where women can bring whatever they wish and work in peace, Your Highness.” Andersson said.

“I trust you will be placing chairs in here and tables too?” Mary asked.

“Of course, Your Highness.” Andersson said though given how wide his eyes had become, Mary got the sense that that thought hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Very well, thank you, Mr Andersson, we are done here.” Christian said.

Andersson bowed his head and led them back the way they had come.

The moment the brisk air hit them, Mary winced, and noticed a figure standing a little way away from everyone else that had gathered to see them. She peered at the figure and saw that it was a woman. A woman with features that mirrored her husband’s. She glanced at Christian then back at the woman and nodded to herself. That woman looked like her husband. She was about to call out to the woman when she disappeared.

Mary blinked and then found herself walking back to the carriage, arm linked with Christian.

“Are you well?” Christian asked in English.

“I just saw a woman who looked like you.” Mary replied in English also.

She expected her husband to be surprised, but instead he sighed. “That’s Gunhilda.”

“Gunhilda?” Mary asked, the name rolling off her tongue.

“Indeed, my father and her mother are or were sleeping together.” Christian answered.

“For how long?” Mary asked.

“I do not know.” Christian said simply, opening the carriage door for her.

Mary entered, and then once Christian had entered as well, she asked. “So, she is your sister?”

“I think so.” Christian said simply. Mary nodded and wondered what she should do with that information.

Albion Rising: A Henry Frederick Timeline

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Chapter 211: Palatinate

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Chapter 212: Virginia

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Chapter 213: Seismic Revolution

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Chapter 214: Soon To Be

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Chapter 215: Swedish Woes

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Chapter 216: Bethlen

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Chapter 217: Next Generation

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Chapter 218: Bohemia

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Chapter 219: Brother France

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Chapter 220: Scotland’s News

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Chapter 221: Maurice

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Chapter 222: A Mother’s Wisdom

VVD0D95

Chapter 223: Report

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Chapter 224: Consummation

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Chapter 225: Arguments

VVD0D95

Chapter 226: Couple Things

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Chapter 227: Danish Walkabouts

Recent threadmarks

Albion Rising: A Henry Frederick Timeline

Chapter 211: Palatinate​

Chapter 212: Virginia​

Chapter 213: Seismic Revolution​

Chapter 214: Soon To Be​

Chapter 215: Swedish Woes​

Chapter 216: Bethlen​

Chapter 217: Next Generation​

Chapter 218: Bohemia​

Chapter 219: Brother France​

Chapter 220: Scotland’s News​

Chapter 221: Maurice​

Chapter 222: A Mother’s Wisdom​

Chapter 223: Report​

Chapter 224: Consummation​

Chapter 225: Arguments​

Chapter 226: Couple Things​

Chapter 227: Danish Walkabouts​

Chapter 211: Palatinate

Chapter 212: Virginia

Chapter 213: Seismic Revolution

Chapter 214: Soon To Be

Chapter 215: Swedish Woes

Chapter 216: Bethlen

Chapter 217: Next Generation

Chapter 218: Bohemia

Chapter 219: Brother France

Chapter 220: Scotland’s News

Chapter 221: Maurice

Chapter 222: A Mother’s Wisdom

Chapter 223: Report

Chapter 224: Consummation

Chapter 225: Arguments

Chapter 226: Couple Things

Chapter 227: Danish Walkabouts