Madrid, Castile. 18th of July, 1528.
The creature was a strange one. It was a bird, or at least they claimed to be a bird, but far larger than the pheasants she was used to. Larger and wilder too, as well, cawing at every single it saw as it walked around the room with a suspicious gaze. It had a long neck, with a slightly blue-toned head and dark but colourful feathers.
When Anne stepped closer, the creature shrieked loudly at her and she flinched, putting a hand to her throat. "Oh, good Lord," she murmured, frightened as the group of men around her seemed stuck in their places. The bird moved about the throne room, with another of its brothers picking at the tapestries hanging from the wall.
"Be careful, Madam," said Francesc beside her. "I fear they may not be used to polite company."
"Forgive us, Your Majesty," said one of the adventurers who had brought the birds for her inspection. He had wide eyes at the idea of offending the wife of Caesar, the greatest ruler in all of Christendom. "They were rather well-behaved on the journey here."
Anne nodded, biting her lip nervously. Then, she looked at the three men present, who came bearing the haul from the New World. Gold, precious jewels and the two frightening birds. "What is the name of this creature?"
"The locals call it wueh-xōlō-tl," said another of the adventurers, "And so, we have begun to refer to them as guajolote."
Anne nodded. "Guajolote," she murmured. "Can we eat their meat?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The guajolotes are quite tasty and they make an important part of the diet of local populations," they answered. "If Her Majesty would like, we could ask the cooks to prepare one of these specimens for your supper tonight."
Anne hesitated before she nodded with a small smile, watching the relief flood the faces of the men around her. Then, she looked at the chests of gold and other riches that they had brought.
The money might assist her husband in his wars, but he had many other lands to suck dry. And she did not agree with these wars. In fact, she was completely against them, for they took too much from the common people of Spain. They took too much from her, driving her husband away and leaving her alone in a land she did not know with people who did not like her. How was this fair? To willingly send funds for something that she did not approve of?
No. Charles had named her regent. He gave her the powers to do as she saw fit in the Spanish realms and that is what she would do. The Crowns of Castile and Aragon needed the money as well, maybe just as much or even more than Charles did. There were schools and hospitals to be built and entire villages to be rebuilt after the infidel Barbarossa had sacked their southern coast.
"Half of the gold will fill our treasuries," Anne murmured, thinking. She thought it would be good to have some of the money for safe-keeping, in case it became needed in the future, "And the other half will be used to rebuild our strengths and fortifications in the southern coast of Granada and Castile."
"Yes, Your Majesty," said Señor Belmonte, who had been attending the meeting as well, though he remained mostly quiet.
Anne observed as the adventurers led the guajolotes away to their deaths as well as the arrival of guards and the royal steward who came to pick up the chests of gold to be used as she had ordered. She took a deep breath, feeling the acidic burn at the back of her throat recede and tried to tell herself to relax.
It was a good day. Or it had been right until the arrival of those who explored the New World. Anne had attended Mass early in the morning and felt a sense of peace inside of her. She visited the nursery afterwards.
Felipe was five now and María, four, with Juanita having just turned two last December. They shrieked their delight at the sight of her and wanted to say all they had done so far, which included prayers, breaking their fast and much playing. Anne had named her mother as their governess and Lady Elizabeth watched over her grandchildren with a devoted gaze, instructing the maids all around her how to best care for them.
Felipe was old enough to be handed over to his tutors and his guardian, but Anne was loath to give him away. Especially to someone she did not trust. Her father clearly expected her to choose him for the position, but Anne knew she ought to appoint a Spaniard with a good position at court that would mould her son into the perfect King of Castile and Aragon.
Were Francesc not too young, being just under eighteen, she would have named him. Francesc was good to her, gentle and pious, with a good head, but he was also Valencian, which did not work in his favour. She twisted her lips as she thought. The man who would be entrusted with her son had to be Castilian, as they were the most powerful and richest of the Iberian people under Charles’ rule. He had not given her a list of men he thought suitable, probably because he did not imagine himself missing his son’s fifth birthday and intended to be present to make the appointment himself.
Anne had very recently received a letter from Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar y Mendoza, whose younger brother had been replaced by Germana de Foix as Viceroy of Valencia. Rodrigo was ill and asked that she take in his two daughters, Mencía and María as her ladies and to arrange good matches for them. The Mendozas were very powerful and the Second Marquess of Mondéjar was a close friend of Charles that remained loyal to him even during the Comuneros’ Revolt, despite his sister and her husband being one of the leaders of the rebellion.
It would not hurt to befriend them. To find good matches for Mencía and María, who were twenty and eighteen. Perhaps even name Luis Hurtado as Felipe’s guardian.
Anne looked at Francesc, who awaited her movements and commands. When he noticed her staring at him, Francesc smiled shyly. “How may I help you, Madam?” he asked, serious.
“Come here, mi señor,” Anne said, beckoning him closer. When Francesc was sufficiently near her, she linked their arms, smiling brightly. “I believe I have found you a wife.”
--
Buda, Kingdom of Hungary. 1st of August, 1528.
It was a warm and sunny day, though not entirely suffocating in heat. Ferdinand had a calm smile on his face as he rode into the city, wearing his full regalia and watching the common people coming out of their homes and shops to observe the royal procession that triumphantly entered the capital of Hungary.
Ján Zápoľský was dead and he, Ferdinand of Austria, was the undisputed King of Hungary, beyond already being the King of Bohemia. The lesser nobility had failed in acquiring a native king, being forced to agree to the terms between Emperor Maximilian and King Vladislaus. Although Ferdinand was grateful for his grandfather’s work resulting in a crown atop his brow, he could not deny his own work in guaranteeing Hungary. He had been the one who refused any sort of reconciliation with Ján, which had Charles doing the same, declaring that he was the only King of the Magyars. Charles’ actions saw ripples across Europe in the form of refusals by most royals, excluding France, who demanded military assistance in the war in return for their acceptance.
But this did not come to pass, even if Ján Zápoľský ever considered accepting Francis’ demands. Ferdinand had funded and incited Slavonic peasants to rebel in the south, which drove away Ján from the capital. He had initially hoped to come to Hungary with an army that could take Buda, but Ján’s death soon after dealing with the rebels from what amounted to drinking tainted water led to his supporters sending letters of acceptance by the hundreds to Prague before he had even prepared his departure from Bohemia. He was amassing his forces when a rider came, sent by Anna, and instead of coming to his new kingdom at the head of an army, he did so before a royal procession.
And this was clear in the face of the people, who waved their hats and bowed before him. It had taken another month to prepare his journey to Hungary. At first, he had told Anna to remain in Bohemia with the children since he hoped to keep them safe from the war and Maximilian was his heir, with baby Ferry after him. Even Liesl and Anke could inherit his dominions and there was no other life more precious than theirs, though maybe Anna was a strong contender, for she was their mother and responsible for their well-bringing.
When they arrived at the Royal Castle, Ferdinand smiled at the sight of Maria standing before the entrance, with the entire royal court behind her. It had been some years since he saw her last, after he arrived in Vienna to marry Anna and before she left for her own marriage. It was their first meeting and rather tense, even though they were siblings. They had never met before, since he grew up in Castile and she, in Flanders and then Vienna and they hadn't exchanged many letters before.
But this time, it was different. Ferdinand felt his face soften at the sight of his sister and he gestured for the procession to stop, quickly dismounting. His surcoat moved about his body and he adjusted his hat carefully as he walked to her, seeing the entire welcoming party dipping into deep curtsies.
"Arise, sister," said Ferdinand when he stepped before Maria. He took her hands in his as she straightened, smiling. "You must never bow to me."
She was wearing black. It was perhaps the first thing he noticed, despite her serious and utterly neutral face. Although her husband had died two years before, and her son even before that, she still seemed to mourn them both deeply. On her chest, Ferdinand noticed a heart-shaped golden locket.
"Brother," she murmured, her voice dripping with neutral indifference, "Welcome to Hungary."
