An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
10th of October, 1529.
Wulfhall, England. 10th of October, 1529.
As soon as Elizabeth saw her home rising from the horizon, she began to cry. It was not a gradual sob, but sudden, cutting through her throat so quickly that she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.
And she didn't want to stop. Why would she? Tears were all she had left. And she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry, to curse, to scream because Henry had told her to return home. He told her to leave his bed, to not bother him anymore.
"It would always end like this," he told her as she wept, sitting down while he stood over her. She knew he was tall, but he seemed enormous at that moment, towering over her. "I have a wife and a duty to my family."
He had a duty to her. Why couldn't he see that? He had promised her that he would care for her, that he would love her until the last of his days.
Elizabeth pressed her hands into her eyes until she saw stars, hot tears sliding down her face, mixing with the snot. Henry grew tired of her, just as he promised he never would. All because the Queen had produced another son for him.
And a third son could be dealt with. Elizabeth didn't want a throne for a child of her womb. She wanted a crown on her head, the King's ring on her finger. Prince John was just six and if the Queen died, Elizabeth was sure she would be able to make him love her as much as he loved her.
And she had another son. If the Queen had a daughter, Elizabeth was sure the King would not send her away. Everyone knew he was far happier whenever he had sons and if he was unhappy with his wife…
The birth of the newest prince wasn't all that hurt her. The labour had been difficult for the Queen, but she lived. She was weak after the birth, and tired, but at the celebrations after her churching, she was glowing. Happily smiling as the court danced and cheered for the birth of little Herry Tudor. The King's newest son, third in the succession with his red hair, green eyes and the Dukedom of Somerset to be his once he turned two.
It was so unfair. She could be a good queen, a good wife. For a moment, Elizabeth wondered if she ought to have resisted Henry, made herself more alluring in his eyes. Tears slid down her face with more vigour and she held on when the carriage rolled to a stop, her parents coming out of their manor.
The truth came to her in a sudden burst of clarity: she had lost the King as soon as she accepted him into her bed.
Her father had his arms opened when she climbed up the stairs to him, the servants already taking her trunks and chests out of the second carriage. Elizabeth ran into his embrace, pressing her wet face against his scratchy doublet and he rubbed her neck under her French hood soothingly.
"It's alright, my flower," he murmured. "It will be alright."
"No, it won't," Elizabeth said. "I am ruined now, papa. The King doesn't love me anymore."
"We will find you a good husband," he answered and her mother came to her, dabbing her face with a handkerchief. "Anyone will take the daughter of an earl, no matter her state."
Elizabeth pushed him away.
"There will be no more earldom, papa!" she shrieked. The King had delayed setting up the date for the ceremony when he found out the Queen was pregnant. Elizabeth thought it was so her father and family could have all the attention, but now she saw the truth. "The King has grown tired of us all, can't you see?"
She shook her head. At least her brother Henry had his viscountcy still, as he had been named Lord Rochford soon after he married the King's own cousin.
"My child," her mother said, walking to her with a stretched familiar hand, "It's alright. Do not speak to your father in such a way."
"Why not?" Elizabeth asked. "I could have become a baroness like Jane, if he hadn't sent me to court. I could have been great! Now, I'm just a whore."
Her father's face grew red. "I sent you to court to find a husband," he murmured through gritted teeth. "I never told you to dally with a married man, even if he was the King."
"But you told me to be more ambitious than Janey!" she said. "To aim higher!"
"To aim for an earl, or a viscount!" said her father, face red. "Now, you are ruined, and so are we all."
Before Elizabeth could respond, the double doors opened once more and her younger sister walked out. Dorothy was fourteen with an eager face and precious blue eyes. Elizabeth looked at her and felt as if she was staring at herself years before, innocent and wide-eyed. Dorothy was very pretty and would grow to be more than beautiful when she became a woman, though her hair was not as fair a blonde as it was appreciated in court. It felt more akin to strawberry blonde than gold thread.
She stopped to think, looking right at her younger sister.
"No, papa," said Elizabeth, looking back at her father. "I don't think we are."
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So they’re going to throw Dorothy, 14 year old Dorothy, at the king now? Shitty.
Well, they need to prepare her first and that takes time. Also, Henry is known to be against young girls, his one good aspect.
Well I’m sure he’ll have no objections once she reaches like 16 or so.
Exactly, they’re pushing their luck and it might very well backfire.
Awww poor Elizabeth, she must feel so cheated, so badly used.. I hope that she may find a good husband one day, and that Dorothy is smart enough to find a man of good standing who she can marry. Great chapter!
