Eleanor is grieving, that doesn't mean she is mentally ill and given that her son just died and this is the third (fourth if you count the stillbirth) child she loses I think we can cut her some slack.
An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
10th of December, 1532.
Westminster Palace, England. 10th of December, 1532.
In just a few days, the great hall had completely changed and John was utterly dazzled by it all. Although it was never a barren place, far from it, never before had the prince seen such displays. The Tudor rose was everywhere, from dyed wool interwoven with precious silk to rubies, diamonds and emeralds on people's cups, necks and rings as far as the eye could see. Even other symbols, such as the cross of St George, and the Portuguese shield for his mother, appeared ever so often and John had great delight in tugging at his father’s sleeve to point them out.
And the king wasn’t at all bothered by it, or at least John thought so. He was sitting between father and Bessie, with his mother on his sister’s other side in her own throne. His father turned to him at every time with patient blue eyes, leaning down so John could whisper in his ear and point out the Howards’ white bend on red with the crosslets at Norfolk’s cloak. Even though Henry was trying to talk to Thomas Cromwell, he had utmost patience for his little boy, who was at long last experiencing the Christmas celebrations in London and never hesitated to turn to him when he called.
John was paying attention to the court jester with Bessie though, his daughter laughing and clapping as Will Sommers juggled a series of balls for their benefit. Thus Henry felt comfortable to whisper in Cromwell's ear.
"I hear the Prince of Piedmont has passed," Henry murmured. "Sickly child, that he was. None of us expected him to outlive his parents."
"It is true, Sire," said Cromwell. He had spent some years in the court of Savoy before returning to England and knew the ducal family. "Emmanuel Philibert is now heir to the Savoyard lands."
Henry nodded, looking out to the crowd. John was still watching Will making jokes, his red hair hidden under a feathered golden cap.
"Emmanuel Philibert is much younger than his older brother's old intended, Margherita Sforza, is he not?" Henry started, looking at his son. Bessie was whispering in Isabella's ear, pointing to something in the crowd and at that moment, the Duke of Suffolk invited his wife to dance. Henry observed his little sister, her pale face. She didn't seem well, though Mary had always been rather sickly. He wouldn't worry about it, as she always recovered from her spells of sickness.
"Yes, the new prince is three years younger than Margherita Sforza, though I have heard no word on whether he will inherit his brother's betrothal, Sire," said Cromwell, looking at him rather quizzically. Henry pretended not to see it.
"You better hope not," the king murmured. "I want you to travel to Milan with Master Wyatt to arrange the Prince of Wales's betrothal to Signora Margherita."
Cromwell nodded and left when Henry dismissed him. He looked back at his son, who was now inviting the young Katherine Howard to dance. The boy was nearly ten and without a bride, even though he was heir to a vast number of lands and wealth. That could not do.
Even though Henry wouldn't admit it, he was extremely hopeful for this betrothal, and would not have anything ruin it. Margherita Sforza was a descendant of Juana de Castilla through her mother and unlike her Spanish cousins, the ones available at least, was neither unhealthy nor too young for John. She was just two years younger than his son and her father was extremely wealthy, as well as the most important Italian ruler after his conquests in the North. Certainly, it would not hurt to have a friendship there.
And her name. Margherita's name could easily be translated to English, unlike Manuela of Portugal. Queen Margaret just had a perfect ring to it, unlike Queen Emmanuelle. Maybe the ungrateful bastard in Lisbon did him a favour by breaking their children's engagement.
Henry saw that John was now dancing with his cousin Frances, who was already allowed to attend court since she came of age. After the end of the music, John returned to the high table to take a hearty sip of his watered-down wine, thirsty. Frances, however, started dancing with the young Marquess of Dorset. His other niece Eleanor was boldly tugging at the hand of Henry Clifford. Meg Douglas, now Stanley, was pregnant with her first child and trapped in the Isle of Mann, something that Henry knew must have irked his politically-driven niece.
It was a good idea that he married her to someone so simple-minded as Lord Derby. Though he was not stupid, his complete lack of ambition would put a damper to Meg's plans. Henry was glad that Kat suggested the match. Who knew what sort of trouble his niece would be up to with any other husband?
Harry, on the other hand, remained betrothed to Lady Willoughby's daughter Katherine. He had been sent to his family's home after his fight with John, certainly to wait for his uncle's anger to abate. Henry wasn't entirely sure he'd see his nephew before the end of the year, even though John's injuries had long since healed. Such an offence was hard to forgive.
Bessie was successfully betrothed to the Duke of Burgundy, as Lord Howard already returned to court with the sealed agreement. That was good. His second daughter being married to such a rich and important ruler would please him greatly, even if Henry might have preferred to see the Low Countries fall to his descendants in the male-line. Marie was already the Duchess of Brittany and the two sisters might keep the peace between their husbands one day.
And there was Eleanor, his youngest child. She was only a baby, just one and located at the nursery in Eltham, too young to take part in the celebrations. Because of her age, Henry did not even consider a marriage for her. Unlike Marie, Eleanor was not, at any point of her life, heiress to the crown and there was no need to worry about such matters at that moment.
Especially since Henry had other things to worry about. He stood up and, with his movement, the musicians stopped and all who were present turned to look at him. It made him feel grand, and special, to have such attention upon his person.
He raised his goblet full of wine. "A toast," he declared, as others rushed to grab their own cup, "To the Queen, who has just today given the greatest of news." Henry turned to Isabella, who was primly sitting in her seat with a gracious smile on her fair face. "Come June, by His will, we shall have a Duke of York on his cradle." Henry smiled and so did Isabella, even brighter than the first time. "To the Queen!"
"The Queen!" the people echoed.
--
Madrid, Castile. 17th of December, 1532.
Anne observed her mother-in-law as she spoke with Charles, the Queen with a pinched expression that was at odds with the celebration that happened around them. She didn't seem angry, or disappointed, but rather worried.
Anne didn't know what to think of it. This was the first time that they had Christmas celebrations with her mother-in-law in many years, since Juanita was born, and though it usually went well, the Queen was known to be extremely paranoid. Who knew what danger she might have seen? Or what sort of worries she had at that moment.
She sighed and looked away. Felipe and María were allowed to be present, and Juanita too, since her birthday fell during the season. Anne knew she'd feel awful if Juanita was not allowed to attend the parties on her birthday. Like the worst mother in the world. Margarita was ill again, and Anne already planned to visit the nursery later, and Catalina was far too young. Which left only their eldest children to be present.
Felipe was growing into a handsome boy and María was already a beauty, even more than Anne was at her age. It made her immensely proud to see them so well and healthy. Such a joy, it was to see her children growing well.
She looked back at her gift to Charles, a large portrait of their family. He had loved it just as she knew he would, his eyes wide and full of love. Anne invited an Italian painter to court just to paint it, a man of the name Titian. In the past few months, he was allowed to view both her and her children, as well as her husband in passing, for the surprise. It was all worth it, of course.
The portrait was painted as if its subjects were interrupted, turning to look at the viewer. At high seats and on display, sat Anne and Charles in their fine clothes, before a large window depicting Spain's green mountains. Their hands dangled from the space between their seats, close but not clasped, as it would not be proper. In her other hand, covered in rings, Anne held a book; Charles, a dark quill.
Felipe was standing behind his father as heir to the throne, overlooking the letter he was writing, while the pale blonde boy seated in front of Charles was certainly meant to be Juan, holding a ducal crown of Burgundy in his hands like a toy. Many reports from the regents came to describe the boy since Anne's son left and she had a portrait of him in her rooms, reported to be very faithful and Titian appraised it thoroughly to finish his work. She imagined it was very faithful, considering Charles never questioned the little boy's presence.
María was sitting before Anne, blonde hair in tight braids that circled her head like a crown. She was wearing a beautiful and virginal white dress, dark eyes focused on her mother. Juanita at her feet was playing with her dolls, wearing a French hood that covered all but the front of her brown hair. Margarita was by her side, also wearing white like her sisters, and playing with dolls. Margarita was the child that looked the most like Anne, something Titian represented by having her dress look similar to Anne's, as well as her rather minimal jewelry. Little Catalina was seated before them all, expressive blue eyes turned to the viewer and curly blonde hair forming a golden halo around her head.
The portrait was intimate, playing on their humanity rather than their grace as monarchs, which was why Anne didn't intend for anyone save their family and the inner members of the court to see it. The sheer familiarity between the royal family was far too much for any of the common people to lay their eyes upon.
Charles returned to her with a smile. Anne let out a relieved breath. Whatever his mother might have said, it wasn't important or worrisome enough for him, or else he wouldn't be in such a good mood. It was probably just rambling and she, with her mind as lost as it was, read her mother-in-law's expression wrong. He offered her a hand. "Will you dance with me, my love?" he asked. Anne smiled as well.
"Of course," she said, standing up. It had been quite some time since she and her husband danced together, far too much in her opinion, and Anne was determined not to let such an opportunity go by silently.
Thus, as the music started and they were looking into each other's eyes without saying anything, she felt free to say anything without others hearing or caring about it.
"I have another gift for you," she said. Charles perked up at that.
"What is it?" he asked.
Anne's smile grew. "I'm with child again," she answered and Charles stopped moving, the line coming to a sudden interruption, though he didn't seem to care.
"Every time," he whispered. "Every time, I think I am happy enough for one man, you come and increase my joy by a thousandth." Anne's eyes brimmed with tears, all her emotions out of order in her state, and Charles pulled her into a deep embrace.
She laid her head on his shoulder. In truth, Anne didn't know whether anyone else was as happy as she was at that moment. She didn't think it possible.
I personally don't think we will see Margherita Sforza as Queen of England, since you mentioned we won't be seeing John's wife coming, and also that love makes anyone suitable (meaning he will marry for love and to someone rather unsuited to a king) but i hope she doesn't die. Maybe, another betrothal is more precious to her father? Though I can't think of anyone who would wish to marry her that is more importan than a king of england.
Love to see Christmas at the Tudor court with Henry playing happy family. Here’s hoping Isabella’s pregnancy runs smoothly for her and the kids get a healthy little sibling.
The painting for Charles and Anne was a nice touch. The Spanish courtiers need to give Anne some kind of medal for giving their king all those kids, even if Juan inherited Burgundy and any other son will go into the church.
There was a time in my notes where Margherita came to England. We'll just have to see if its the current time.
I honestly think the Castilians have come a long way from utterly hating her just for kicks. At least, the commoners are extremely thankful for her charities and those in the south love her for what she did in Algiers.
That would be ironic, especially because the next baby girl will be named Isabel.
Good news. I'm sure Anne is silently praying that this child isn't a boy...
Well, this sounds really unlikely right now
. Anyways really good chapter, nice to see that both families seem happy and healthy right now, I wonder what future Eleanor Tudor will hold, perhaps Queen of Scotland or Duchess of Savoy?Eleanor was such a minor footnote in this chapter. Funny that you focused on her.Well, this sounds really unlikely right now
Well, I thought maybe it's not coincidental that in the same one it is mentioned that the younger son of the Duke of Savoy is his heir..