An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
As they should as the Queen's closest relatives. Bonus points if one of them gets the title Earl Rivers at some point...
I think John's finished with titling his wife's relatives. And if anyone is titled, most likely its one of her leigh brothers, than a distant cousin.
I have plans for some... healthy number of children to come from them, but it's only been a month since they were wed. It takes around a year for a healthy couple to conceive.
I'm holding my thumbs for a princess Catherine somewhere down the road.
We're discussing Joyce Culpeper/Jacquetta of Luxembourg number of children? That will be fun to see
Not always. I’ve known people who conceive a few months after the wedding. However that’s uncommon and John and Kitty are very young.
Maybe? I'm still not sure. Maybe more TTL Anne Boleyn than Jacquetta
It is an average number. Other people can take two years, or just a few weeks. It's kinda how the average number of legs per human is less than two because some people have either no legs or just one.
Family Tree - Aviz
King João III of Portugal (June 1502-) m. Leonor of Austria (November 1498-February 1539)
- Maria of Portugal (1519-1523)
- Joana of Portugal (July 1520-) m. Felipe, Prince of Asturias (April 1523-)
- Ana de Austria (February 1538- )
- Unborn child due in January 1540
- Afonso, Prince of Portugal (August 1522-) m. María of Austria (April 1524-)
- Unborn child due in April 1540
- Miguel of Portugal (November 1523-August 1528)
- Manuela of Portugal (April 1526-). A novice in a convent.
- Filipe of Portugal (August 1527-) b. Clemência de Beja (1531-)
- Margarida of Portugal, Duchess of Viseu (February 1531-)
- Dinis of Portugal (June 1532-July 1532)
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15th of September, 1539.
Madrid, Castile. 15th of September, 1539.
The Queen had refused to leave her chambers as of late. Felipe wondered if, perhaps, that was not for the best. She had been frightening Ana with her screams, his child was just one and could not understand that her great-grandmother was not a monster. And in her rooms, the Queen did not call out for his aunt and mother-in-law, shrieking through the corridors. She only cried and wept under her sheets, with a miniature portrait of Dona Leonor in her childhood clasped in her arms.
He didn't know what to do with her. Felipe loved his grandmother, loved her dearly in fact, but he was still just sixteen. If he was not ready to be the regent, then he wasn't ready to care for the Queen in her grief. Neither Joana's new pregnancy nor the news of her nephew's marriage had cheered her. It seemed almost impossible now, to hope for her recovery.
Joana sighed and closed her book of hours, hands splayed at the large swell of her belly. The midwives had predicted a birth for late December, or maybe early January, and Felipe could hardly wait. With Ana, he received notice only a week after the fact, and only to let him know that Joana and the Infanta would travel to Madrid to be with him. He wanted to see his son being born, to hold him when he was still fresh, eyes not yet open. And it seemed to him that his close proximity with Joana increased his anxiety.
He loved her. She was his wife and he loved her. Felipe didn’t want to lose her, as his father lost his mother and her father lost hers. As their grandmother lost his namesake.
She raised her eyes and found him staring at her. “What?” she asked. He said nothing, merely sliding out of his chair and falling onto the floor. Joana stared at him quizzically and Felipe continued his crawl to her, feeling very much like a baby. His wife chuckled when he stopped before her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. Or as close as they could be, with her sitting and him on the ground. He placed his cheek against the curve of her stomach, closing his eyes as the child within kicked him.
His boy was angry. Felipe smiled. He wanted his son to be born soon, so he might be a better father to him than his own was. He wanted to see Ana grow into a fine young woman and only then, try and find her a husband. He wanted to keep Joana by his side, to love and honour her as they grow old.
Joana wrapped her arms around him, stroking his black curls. “What is wrong?” she asked. His wife was nineteen now, three years older than him. Healthy and hale. None of her attendants even mentioned a problem with her first delivery. And she rode across Castile soon after to be with him.
“I’m just worried,” he murmured, eyes still closed. “I don't want to lose you."
"You aren't going to lose me," Joana said. "What is this about?" He shook his head, rubbing his nose against her stomach. She was wearing a simple blue dress in the privacy of their rooms, without having to show off for a court that wasn’t there.
“Nothing,” Felipe said. He didn’t want to appear weak before his wife. Joana squeezed him tightly, running her fingers through his hair. He raised his eyes to look at her. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she responded without hesitation. “And I will never leave you. You must know that.”
“I do,” he said. Felipe placed his face against her belly again. “I do.” But he could not believe it.
--
Lisbon, Portugal. 29th of September, 1539.
It was the first major celebration at court since the Queen died and yet, María could take no part of it. The masques weren’t even for a major event, just to let the court know that the mourning had been lifted, and the King had told Afonso earlier that he would make only a small appearance at the beginning. It was only to keep the nobles happy and yet the Princess of Portugal could not come.
She didn’t seem to have the will to even leave her bed, her stomach rolled whenever she thought about eating, and when her husband came to escort her to the great hall, she had to refuse him. María told him to go off without her, for she was indisposed. And he couldn’t even know why. She did not have the courage to say anything, not until the babe quickened inside her.
But she had not bled since June. Could scarcely keep down anything except the tinctures made by her personal doctor, and the food that her Castilian cook would make for her every three days. Since her illness after Mama, María had always been little more than skin and bones, but everyone had noticed how much weight she lost. She could see it in their eyes and no one mentioned a pregnancy as a possibility for ill health. Afonso thought she was sick and the King sent his personal doctor to see her, and he didn’t even seem to think that she could possibly be expecting. Even if María believed it in her heart that she was carrying a child, she could not risk the embarrassment of being wrong if she told Afonso, and the court, before she knew for certain.
Her maids moved about her room, unable to hide their disappointment that they wouldn’t be able to dance that night. María wanted to pull her blankets over her head and hide. Although her maids didn’t say anything, she still felt their eyes upon her. Wondering why they were serving such a sickly princess. Someone who might not even live through childbirth.
It was so scary to think about it, to know that in seven months, she would have to give birth to a baby. Her mama had died in childbirth, as did Afonso’s grandmother and the possibility of suffering the same frightened her. She wanted nothing more than to have children, to hold her babies in her arms and see them grow, but she would need to birth them first. And that was scary.
She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Anything else. Her hand itched to her middle, still flat, and she tried to think about her baby, but the image that came to her mind was her husband’s face. He had not said anything when she told him she would be unable to attend the masque that night, didn’t even seem to question it, as if the thought that she was too sick to fulfil her duties had already crossed his mind.
María wondered if he had his eyes on another lady that night, free from acting as a dutiful husband to her. He didn’t even offer to stay with her. She knew he didn’t love her, not like their parents had loved each other, but sometimes, she wondered if he had grown to be fond of her, as she was of him. She would not be jealous if he took a mistress during her pregnancy, would try not to, but she wondered if he already had someone in mind. Someone to flirt with while she grew large with child.
One of her maids covered her with a thick fur blanket and María realised that she was shivering. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she nestled in closer to her bed, trying to burrow deep like an animal. María hoped that she was with child, because all children loved their mothers and all she wanted was someone who loved her.
Poor María... I fear that she won't survive a pregnancy.
Just heartbreaking
Filipe and Joana are a treasure. And I'm so very worried about Maria and her unborn baby.
Aww poor María sounds so lonely, hopefully she really is pregnant and not ill...