An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
Nothing set in stone. Both babies are still very young; new matches can be made, new arrangements.
Just a tiny little hiccup in his life. No reason to think he won't grow into a happy lad and healthy man.I’m so happy little Jean is doing good
20th of June, 1532.
Castelo de Beja, Portugal. 20th of June, 1532.
Guiomar was kneeling by the bed when Luís stepped inside. She was wearing a simple dark gown, hair pushed under a thick veil and didn’t move even when the door closed behind him, eyes focused forward at the little girl in her bed. The physician had just left and Clemência, one-year-old Clemência was sleeping in a feverish sleep in her mother’s chambers, face flushed.
“How is she?” he asked and Guiomar flinched, having not noticed his arrival. Luís noticed that, though she clasped her hands as if in prayer, she did not whisper, or mumble anything. Not a single word that could be interpreted as a message to their Lord left her lips. Instead, Guiomar looked at their little daughter, face pale even under the waning moonlight, her lips slightly parted like she had stopped in the midst of a sentence.
She looked at him, and Luís could see the dark circles under her eyes. The desperation was clear on her face as she prayed over the bed of their sickly daughter. “Not well, of course,” Guiomar replied.
Luís nodded and stepped forward. He could see Clemência’s little fragile body, her chest rising and falling and her blonde curls, a yellow so light that it seemed almost white to him. She was surrounded by pillows, practically drowning in them and he swallowed the desire to reach out and touch her face. Luís could only imagine the sharp slap that Guiomar would give him if he dared to touch their daughter.
“What did the doctor say?” he asked.
Guiomar didn’t look at him. She turned back to Clemência, named after the pope, but whose name never seemed to fit so perfectly in that moment, where she asked the Lord for mercy. To not take her little child away from her.
“Warmer weather,” she said. “No physical exertion for her. Better and simpler food.”
“I will write to João,” Luís murmured. “I’m sure he can lend us one of his residences in Faro, or in the Algarves. He has so many of them that--”
Guiomar turned sharply to look at him. “Do you really think I care what you do or don’t?” she asked, her voice acid. “You may return to your whore, Luís, and stop pretending you will actually follow through with your promises.
“Guiomar, I--,” he weakly started.
“We don’t need you,” Guiomar continued, looking at Clemência in the bed. "I know your brother was the one who made you come here, who made you leave your pelican whore, but we don't want you here. Clemência has stopped calling for you, so stop pretending you care for her more than you care for your bastard by that Violante girl.”
"Guiomar," he tried again, shaking his head.
"Nothing holds you here," she said simply. "I myself will write to the king and ask for his help. As for you," she looked at him with disdain clear on her face, "Return to Lisbon. Nothing holds you here."
Cowed, Luís looked away. He nodded and left. She was right; nothing did hold him there and he'd much rather be in Lisbon, with Violante and António.
--
Lisbon, Portugal. 29th of June, 1532.
When the parrot squawked at her, Joana stepped back, frightened and João chuckled. His daughter looked at him, blue eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.
"Please, do not mock me, papai!" she asked. At eleven, Joana was prone to outbursts of sadness and offense if she thought she was being mocked, or teased. It was the fate of girls.
"I'm not, my darling," João assured her. He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, the dark hair that escaped her braid tickling his fingers. "I just think our darling bird is just more scared of you than you are of him," he said, turning to look at the men who brought said bird from Brazil to Portugal. "Isn't that right, meus senhores?"
The two fools rushed to confirm. "Oh, yes, Your Majesty," said the leader, a tall and skinny man who still seemed to smell like the New World. Though, João didn't let himself say anything. "He is not used to beauties such as the Infanta."
Joana blushed in pleasure at the compliment and smiled at the man. "Thank you, meu senhor," she said as prim and proper. More confident, she looked back at the parrot, a specimen of vivid and bright colours of red and blue, with a hint of green in its wings. Joana stepped forward and touched the golden metal of the cage it was in, smiling. "I will name him Lazúli, after my favorite necklace." She looked at João, eager. "Is he truly mine, papai?"
"Of course," said João. "Did I not promise you an exotic animal from Brazil as your birthday present?" He leaned forward to look at Lazúli, and wondered whether Rubi would have been a better name for him. "There, as I promised, a papagaio from the terra dos papagaios, in time for your twelfth birthday next week."
Joana smiled, her tongue peeking out as she looked back at her bird. Her face was full of love, and also joy, utter happiness at the birthday coming up, when she would come of age and officially be presented to Portuguese society.
João had nothing in his heart but pride and joy for his daughter, his eldest surviving child. To see her grow well and healthy was a balm to his heart, even as he thought about her older sister, who would never see the age of adulthood. As soon as her own cousin, the Prince of Asturias turned fourteen in five years, she'd travel to Castile and take up her rightful place beside him.
He knew the rumours, as well as the truth about the King of Hungary being named the King of the Romans as well. The title that would one day lead him to inherit the Empire and all of its dominions. Joana might never grow to be empress, that fate now belonged to her namesake cousin, who was betrothed to Maximilian of Austria, but being Queen of Castile and Aragon was much of the same. If not more prestigious.
Joana opened the cage daintly, wonder and bewilderment clear on her face and João stepped back to give her some time. At that moment, a servant came with a letter and he looked away for a moment to read it. João thought it was a message from Leonor, deep in her confinement with another child and still morose at missing their daughter's birthday, but when he saw the seal, he knew it wasn't.
As he read, João felt himself growing more and more enraged. The words swam across his head, a buzzing rising in his ears and his entire world shaking. He noticed Joana asking if there was something wrong by the cage, but in truth, João barely cared about her.
He looked up, sweating. "Take my daughter back to her lessons," he ordered and, without a look back, he marched away.
João didn't know where he was walking, until he was already bodily moving maids away from his path, ignoring their concerns over him invading the Queen's confinement. He found Leonor sitting by the bed, primly drinking tea with her ladies when he stepped inside. They gasped, some of the ladies quickly trying to cover their shift-covered bodies, but João didn't care.
As Leonor complained, he showed her the letter. "Henrique wishes to break his vows," he said and Leonor stood up, a hand on her enlarged stomach and another thrown behind to support her. "He wants to marry a nun, the sister of the Duke of Ferrara, and wishes for my help in convincing the Pope. My money!"
Leonor took the letter and read it, a frown growing deep between her eyebrows. "Why would he do this?"
"Why should I know?" he said. "It was our father's wish that he join the church and now, he wants to break the promise he made to the King." He shook his head. "That won't do. That will absolutely not do."
"What is your wish?" Leonor asked, tired. He suddenly remembered that she was heavily pregnant, expected to deliver at any moment and he invaded her confinement.
João took a deep breath and sighed, stepping away.
"If he wants to convince the pope to annul his vows, he will have to do it alone," he said. "He will use his own wits, his own intelligence. Then, and only then, may he be my brother again. This, I so swear."
Leonor said nothing. She knew that when her husband made a decision, it was difficult to convince him otherwise. No matter what she wished. In truth, she could only hope it would improve in the future and that someday, he might regret his decision to disown Henrique.
Without money things are difficult; If Ippolito II of Este, Eleonora's cardinal brother would become the pope thought.....
Henrique and Eleonora seem to be relatively pious, and they would definitely consider that a sin.
That would be a sin, twice so as they are both anointed and he probably wants to do it in the right way.
I don’t think either of them would be ok with that.
Unfortunately, rumours are swirling that he never took those necessary priestly vows.
That is not an insurmountable obstacle. While is true who Ippolito has NOT be ordained, Pius III was ordained as priest and consacrate as bishop only AFTER being elected Pope but BEFORE his coronation so an election of Ippolito as Pope is far from impossible