Well, it would seem that Mary and Francis are eager to do their duties so to speak, hopefully, soon she'll make Henry a grandfather, it would be quite something if he had a grandson that's older than a Duke of York. I do hope that Henry is patient with Isabella, this shows that she's still more than capable of birthing healthy children after all. Great chapter, it has been nice to see Maud's perspective again.
An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
Well what do you expect when you put two hormonal teenagers who are both reasonably attractive and know what they are supposed to do in a room together? Much shenanigans, that's what!
That sounds like something @Tudorfan would say. 😉
Lovely chapter, glad to see little Margaret has arrived safely, and that Mary is settling into life in Brittany.
I swear, I am generally optimistic. I just thought I saw foreshadowing.
I wish people would understand the difference between fleshing out characters by giving them worries, desires and goals and foreshadowing.
So young Francis has been on this day in the midst of England? Good for him. Hopefully he and Mary help the Valois line go on for much longer.
It is. I intend on Marie having a much happier life than she did OTL.
Not sure if I'm flattered you know me so well or offended that you know me so well...That sounds like something @Tudorfan would say. 😉
Lovely chapter, glad to see little Margaret has arrived safely, and that Mary is settling into life in Brittany.
Madame!
Oh, even I wouldn't make that pun.
10th of July, 1533.
Lisbon, Portugal. 10th of July, 1533.
João found Leonor playing with the children. It was unlike her, to hurt her dignity as queen by sitting on the floor with the babies like a servant, but he decided to allow her this one small joy. Precious little she had since they lost Dinis. For a moment, afterwards, João almost thought he would lose her too.
Margarida stood up to greet him, arms wide to embrace him. João chuckled and pulled her into a deep hug, pressing a kiss to the auburn hair over her head. "Papa," she whispered, beaming. His youngest daughter was two years old already, sweet and clever as they come.
Though it pained him not to pay more attention to her, João dropped a kiss to her head and put her down once more. Margarida, unbothered and used to her father's lack of attention, toddled off to one of her nurses as Leonor stood up from the ground.
João offered his wife a hand. "May we speak?" he asked and she nodded.
They walked out of the nursery and into a corridor, before João led her to her own private chambers. Leonor didn't say anything, simply stroking his knuckles with her thumb as they walked together. He observed her face either way, her long nose and pouty lips.
When they were alone, he turned to her. "What is wrong?" João asked, rubbing her hands gently.
"What makes you think there is anything wrong?" Leonor responded, aloof. He frowned.
"I know you," he said. "You are my wife, my partner. I have known and loved you for nearly fifteen years. I know when you are unhappy, Leo." João bit his lower lip, nervous. "Is it about Dinis?"
Although her eyes filled with tears, and her face lost all colour, Leonor shook her head even as she bit her lip to keep from crying. "No, it's not Dinis," she said. "It's something else."
"What is it?" he asked. "Please, tell me."
Leonor closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks. João cupped her face gently, stroking her soft skin and she opened her eyes again to look at him.
"I did not bleed this month," she murmured, "So I thought, well I assumed, that I was with child again. I didn't think I could possibly be wrong, I have been with child many times, so I know all the signs and yet…"
João finished for her, "You are not pregnant?"
Leonor shook her head.
"I went to speak with my physician," she said. "I thought surely there was something I could do to keep this baby safe, to keep myself from losing it, but he said I'm not with child. He said it's unlikely I ever will be again."
"Oh, Leo," João murmured softly. He drew her to his arms, hugging her tightly even as her body shook with her sobs. Leonor clutched his doublet, wetting his clothes with her tears, but he didn't care. Why would he care? When she calmed again, João cupped her face, drawing her gaze up to meet his. "It will be alright. Everything will be alright."
"How can it be?" she asked. "We have just two sons and three daughters. Young and fragile, still. What if something happens to them?"
"And what if it doesn't?" João looked at his wife, at his cousin, a woman who had done more for Portugal than anyone else on this earth. She had laboured nine times to give him heirs and even if only five remained out of eight live-births, he'd count his blessings. He would thank the Lord for her continuous health, for keeping her safe through the trials of childbirth. Even if they had no offspring, no heirs, no joys, João would still thank the Lord for keeping her safe, because without her, nothing made sense. "We have five healthy and beautiful children, my love. There is no need to worry about them at every moment."
"I know, I know, but sometimes, I fear that if I don’t stop worrying, then something bad will happen to all of us,” she murmured. Leonor closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I know it seems madness, but it’s how I feel.”
“I understand it,” João said, “But you must also see that there is nothing to worry about. Our sons are healthy and they are growing well. Afonso is eleven and was already sworn in as the Prince of Portugal, as heir to my crown because I have confidence in him, and trust in the succession. Filipe is a strong boy, even if he is sensitive, and I have never even heard of him catching a fever.” He clutched her hands. “Please, my love, believe me when I say: we are well.”
“I know, I know,” she insisted, “But what if?”
“But what if nothing,” João said. “Joana is thirteen and Afonso, eleven. Soon, we will see them married to your brother's children. We must only wait for the Archduchess María to turn fourteen so she may be sent here and then, we will have grandchildren. A new generation to inherit my crown and put your mind at ease.”
Leonor’s eyes were closed, but she nodded.
“Our children are enough for me,” João continued. “Joana, Afonso, Manuela, Filipe and Margarida. They are all enough for me. If we have no other children, if we lose our precious and beautiful boys, then that is the Lord’s will.” He sighed, unable to picture the heartache they both would feel if Afonso and Filipe both were called to be with God. “If the Lord decides Joana ought to be Queen of Portugal in her own right and unite all of the Spanish kingdoms with her husband as my brother would have done, then that is His will and it is up to us to accept it.”
He kissed her, a gentle and loving kiss without any lust underneath. João could taste Leonor’s tears and when he leaned back, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. She held him so tightly, it was as if she was afraid he would leave her. He almost laughed; he never would do such a thing.
Instead, he just held her, stroking her hair and whispered a hundred promises of eternal love to her hair until the seconds bled into minutes and the entire world seemed to whisk away in her presence.
--
Vienna, Austria.
Ferdinand didn’t know what he expected. Eight years had passed since he last saw George Bullen, eight long years and he knew he had changed. They both did. In those eight years, George married and produced three children for his lands, he lost his wife but strengthened his hold on Württemberg. And Ferdinand… in those years, he became a king, he became the elected heir to the Imperial crown. His children had been born, they had grown and yet he never forgot the dark-haired Englishman that became German through an edict by his brother.
Anna suggested a more private encounter, without the eyes of the court upon them and Ferdinand agreed, if only to keep his emotions at bay. He imagined that knowing his children were watching would keep him from losing control of himself and he succeeded, at least in that regard.
George entered the room with an entourage of Württembergers behind him, as well as his two eldest children. Ferdinand knew that the youngest, Elisabeth, had been left in Stuttgart for concerns over her health at such a long journey and he was slightly disappointed at it, even though he didn’t know why. At George’s sides, walked his daughter Anna, supposedly named after the empress, a pretty young blonde girl of six and Karl Ferdinand, his godson and namesake. Karl Ferdinand was five, or close enough to it that it didn’t matter and already wore the breeches and shirts of older boys. He had his father’s dark hair, but Ferdinand saw that he had blue eyes and a pale face that must have come from his mother.
“Your Majesty,” George said, bowing to him. His children did much of the same. Ferdinand held his breath, looking at him. He was older, with a beard now that wasn’t there when they last saw each other and his eyes seemed wiser too.
Ferdinand bid him to straighten his back. They looked at each other and the tension in the air was palpable. He could feel the eyes of Anna upon him, upon them both, trying to understand how to move in this situation.
“Brother,” he murmured, “Welcome to Vienna.”
George smiled. His eyes moved down the entourage who welcomed him until they focused on Liesl, standing beside her mother. Poor child, she was just as blonde as Anna Bullen, but nowhere near as pretty with a pale complexion and dark eyes. Her chin, unfortunately so, was more pronounced than that of some of her sisters, making her seem eternally pouting, though Ferdinand was somewhat glad that she could at least close her mouth.
George kneeled down to look her in her eyes and Liesl, though shy and timid, did not hide behind her mother as Ferdinand knew she would.
“May I ask a favour of you, Your Highness?” he asked in a weak and accented German.
Liesl looked at Anna, before nodding. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said in a low tone.
“I met this beautiful princess when I was last in Vienna,” George started, in a faraway and dreamy voice as if he was telling a fairy tale. “She was so kind, and so pretty, that I surely thought she was an angel.” Liesl giggled. “Do you know the name of this princess?”
Liesl shook her head. “There are no princesses in Vienna!” she giggled and George gasped.
“Yes, there is!” he insisted, faking offence. “Princess Elisabeth of Austria would be very upset if she heard you speak like this of her, though I know she will forgive you, because her heart is as pure as fresh fallen snow.”
“I’m Elisabeth of Austria,” Liesl said, “But I’m not a princess. I’m an archduchess!”
“Oh, really?” George asked, frowning. “I suppose there is some resemblance. If you are not the princess of the story, then surely, I will not be able to take a ring out of your ear.”
“There are no rings in my ear!” Liesl said as all the children converged around her, eager to see what was happening.
“Really?” George exclaimed. “Let’s see.” First, he showed all of those present that his hands were empty. Then, in a show of jests, he stretched out his own fingers, like he was trying to remove something hidden deep in his skin. Ferdinand, interested in the matter, leaned forward to see as well, though he could still feel Anna’s eyes upon him.
Liesl continued to giggle, a hand pressed to her mouth, and George touched behind her ear at exactly the spot where her gold-with-pearl hood ended and her skin began. When he brought his hand back, there was a silver ring nestled in his palm with a large ruby catching the light. The children gasped, even Karl Ferdinand and Anna Bullen, and Liesl’s eyes filled with tears as George presented her with the ring.
“For you,” he said. “For when you become Queen of Poland, my niece.” At that moment, when George stood up once more and the children began to swarm him, looking for tricks of their own, Ferdinand saw the eagle engraved on the ruby, and the bird drawn on white enamel around the silver band.
His eyes met George’s. The Duke of Württemberg simply smiled.
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Aww nice to see georg charming the pants off Ferdinand and Anna’s kiddos - we’ll have to see how this develops!
Aww poor Eleanor, at least Joao is standing by her no matter what, and he raises some good points, two sons and three daughters should be enough to secure Portugal. And oh my, here is the long awaited reunion...
Well, I think Leonor just has some fears, considering how her grandparents' succession was assured and then her mother inherited Castile and Aragon after just a few years full of tragedies. Of course, the situation isn't the same, but sometimes, the heart isn't reasonable.