Ah yes. I love the promise of future infantes of Spain in the morning.
An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
I’m guessing it’s a reference to “I love the smell of napalm in the morning”
I followed this story a week ago and I've read through all of its chapters up to this point. Very good job thus far! I've long been fascinated by the Tudors and by this period of early modern history.
Oh thank you! I have to admit, the Tudors and this period are my favorite as well.
Awwww, so happy to see Charles and Anne reunited, and that their love is stronger than ever ❤
Me too!! I honestly can't have them fighting for too long in a story that is based on their marriage
They... aren't gonna be able to just ignore this forever..... TBH, I was kinda looking forward to a debate... Or Charles reading the book, trying to understand Anne's perspective, and then convincing her to work within the Church to make those changes instead of splintering away.
They haven't seen each other in nearly two years. There's plenty of time for debacles later.
15th of May, 1525.
Lisbon, Portugal. 15th of May, 1525.
“My brother has returned to Spain!” Leonor exclaimed as she marched inside her husband’s personal study, interrupting his game of chess with the Duke of Beja. She waved the letter in her hand around enthusiastically and João sighed, rubbing at his forehead as she came closer to him. “And is not all! The war is ended. The Emperor was victorious!”
“I know it already, paixão,” her husband responded with an almost tired tone. With a quick nod from him, the Duke of Beja left, giving a small bow to his sister-in-law before he crossed through the doors and left the royal couple alone.
Leonor blinked, looking at her husband. She wanted to sigh, but instead, she only took in a deep breath, letting her body relax and her arm fall back to her side. The letter crumpled in her hand and she licked her lips, trying to remember what she wanted to say. When she did so, she tried to keep her voice calm and without second intentions, “So have you sent an embassy to Toledo?”
“We were neutral in the conflict,” he said simply, not even rising from his seat. “There is no need for us to be a part of the peace talks. We have no claims elsewhere in Europe, nothing to demand from France.”
“I’m not talking about the war!” Leonor said, passionate about the subject. “I’m talking of our children. Joana and Afonso.” She gave birth to another son for her husband nearly two years past, Infante Miguel, but as a younger son, his future was not nearly as important as Afonso’s.
“Please, paixão,” João said, shaking his head. “Not this again.”
“Joana is only three years older than the Prince of Asturias!” she insisted. “And our boy is only two years older than the Infanta María. It would be great matches to be made.” She shook her head, fisting her hands and swallowing the need to stomp her feet on the ground like an immature child. “Felipe will be King of Castile and Aragon, maybe even become an Emperor like my brother, and Infanta María will bring a handsome dowry.”
João shook his head again. He didn’t care about that, she knew he didn’t, but she was starting to lose her arguments in the matter with him. Soon enough, she would have nothing else than her tears and her aunt had always taught her that a woman had more weapons than tears and that which laid between her legs. A woman’s mind could be as sharp a blade as she wanted it to be.
“The children are too young,” said João. “Afonso is not even three yet and Joana is barely six. They are still years away from marriageable age or the ability to produce issue.” He stood up, removing his cap to run a hand through his curly black hair. “What your brother wants is not the union of your two lines, but of our money, a claim to Portugal for his son and a crown for the head of his daughter with the Englishwoman. His silver tongue only told you whatever lie you wished to hear to convince you of the fact.”
“How can you say that to me?” she asked, holding back tears. “Do you not trust my opinion? My resolve? Do you truly think of me as so innocent and naive as to be manipulated by my own younger brother?” She shook her head. “I was betrothed for the first time when I was just eight-years-old. Our aunt Catherine was promised to the deceased Prince of Wales at three.” She sighed and tears slid down her tears, rebellious even at her best attempts to stop them, and she cleaned them away quickly. João turned to her and seeing her wet cheeks, he tried to come closer, hands stretched forward to comfort her, but she moved away.
“I know you are convinced of the worth of a match with Spain for your love and loyalty to your family, but please, think of Portugal, minha paixão,” said João. Leonor had turned her back to him and she felt his hands touch her shoulders hesitantly, moving down her cloth-covered arms. With no refusal from her, he continued, tugging at her hands so she’d face him. “Your brother has many debts. With the German Electors, with his own soldiers. I fear he will summon Joana before she is ready, so he may get his hands on her dowry.”
“Charles is no fool,” she told him. “Joana will not leave until his own son is ready to consummate the marriage, I know it so.”
“And Afonso?” João asked. “María is the daughter of a woman of little standing and prestige. Will we tie ourselves to such a woman?”
“And where else would you find a wife for our son?” she asked. Leonor felt her cheeks flush, her emotions running high, and she stepped back, letting go of his hands. João raised his palms as a sign of surrender, but she couldn’t handle his passivity anymore. Sometimes, his refusal to let his temper get the best of him irked her so much, she could scream. “With the King of France, the successors of our grandparents’ enemies? Whose men raid the coast of Brazil with abandon, no care for our borders and the Treaty drafted by Pope Alexander VI? The daughters of a woman deformed, cursed by the Lord? Is that what you wish for our darling and precious Prince of Portugal?”
“Leonor…” He stepped back, shaking his head. “There are many men out there with daughters. I hear your sister Catalina is with child again, after having two sons with her Milanese Duke. Princess Christina of Denmark could also marry Afonso, and she is your niece as well. Even the Archduchess of Austria is bearing a babe, after so many years of marriage. There are many nieces in Europe for you to choose as a daughter-in-law.”
“And our girl?” Leonor retorted. "What will happen to her?”
“Joana is my eldest surviving child,” said João, looking at her in the eye. “If, God forbid, something were to happen to Afonso and Miguel, she will be my heir. If that were to happen, I wish for her to continue the Aviz dynasty.” Luís’ marriage had fallen through after the girl decided to join a nunnery, but João had already arranged a match for Fernando with Guiomar Coutinho. She was a rich heiress and would soon be able to bear children. The wedding was to be held within five years.
Leonor trembled as he spoke. “I shall give you more sons, João,” she told him. “I know I shall.” They had been married for just seven years and already, they had four children, though it pleased the Lord to call dear Maria to his side. “Joana, Afonso and Miguel are hale, strong. Nothing will happen to them.”
“I’m not saying it will,” said João. He touched her face, cupping her cheek gently. “But as king, I must be prepared to deal with every situation, including that which compromises the end of my male line. Joana might become Queen someday and I can’t let the Habsburgs gain more land than they already have.”
“I’m a Habsburg,” Leonor responded, offended. “Eldest child of my parents and yet, now with both Charles and Ferdinand begetting heirs, it’s unlikely I will ever inherit anything from them.” She placed her hand over his, drawing him closer. “Joana will be the same, I know it so. I will have more boys, more heirs. I promise you, my love.”
He nodded. “And when we are sure of that, I will find Joana a match outside of Portugal with a man worthy of her, but not before.”
And I shall convince you otherwise, Leonor thought as João pulled her in for a deep kiss, his hands finding the laces of her clothes. She’d see her children married to the imperial archdukes, or her name was not Leonor de Habsburgo.
I love just peppering in the fact that I love ASOIAF