An Imperial Match: Anne Boleyn marries Charles V

3rd of July, 1522.
Winchester, England. 3rd of July, 1522.

Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England bends slightly forward as she watches her husband sign the piece of paper. Her brown hair has been perfectly tucked under a glittering blue french hood, a garment that matched her exquisite royal blue gown, her sleeves hanging to her ankles. She had her round face slightly puckered as she struggled to understand the contents of said paper, the will of the Emperor which the King was signing as a witness. It was written in Latin, as all good papers are, but a version in French would be done for good measure and be sent to Bruges at the Low Countries.

In the case of his death at sea, Charles of Austria left all of his holdings to his younger brother, Ferdinand, who now lived in Vienna with his Hungarian wife as the new Archduke of Austria. Catherine, who loved both of her nephews dearly, prayed nothing would happen to Charles. His brother was just nineteen, and too young to take on a responsibility he had not been taught to hold from childhood, as Charles had been.

She looked at her nephew then, who had a smug smile on his face. He looked awfully confident then, almost as if he had conquered something that he had really wanted. It was not a good look on him and made Catherine feel uneasy, a heavy weight pooling low on her stomach. She almost felt like retching her small lunch.

Instead, she turned to Maud Parr behind her, twisting her lips, “Where is Anne Boleyn? She ought to be here.” As a French speaker, Mistress Boleyn’s duty was to serve as a translator between the imperial and royal parties. Her absence was a prickly thorn on Catherine’s side.

Maud blushed under Catherine’s gaze, “No one has seen her all day. I heard she caught a sickness and returned to her father’s estates to prevent Her Majesty and the King from getting ill.”

Catherine nodded. This was a perfectly good reason, but, for some reason, she did not believe it. She turned to Charles again and saw the confident tilt of his hips, the curve of his smile and the missing ring on his finger.

She did not like this. She did not like this at all.

Dover, England. 4th of July, 1522.

A woman is helped by a man into a small boat, her hands firmly holding her green skirts. When she raises her head to watch the ship into which she is going to embark, dark curls slip out from beneath her green French hood and the B pendant on her neck shines with sunlight hitting it just right. A couple of peasants watch as she is led away to the large fleet anchored in the English shores, but no one knows her name, or what she has done.
 
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I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, my health has not been great for the past few weeks and I have decided to take a small break from writing. I will still see when I'm able to upload, but it will not be as frequent as it once was. Hope you can understand.
 
I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, my health has not been great for the past few weeks and I have decided to take a small break from writing. I will still see when I'm able to upload, but it will not be as frequent as it once was. Hope you can understand.
Don't worry. Your health always comes first.

And Catherine is on to something. The unfortunate, or fortunate, depending on your perspective, is that she'll be just a little too late.
 
No problem. Hope you are feeling better. Great update! Catherine is going to be so angry/confused when she finds out what Anne and Charles did!
 
Don't worry about delays, your health is more important. I think its really imoressive, that you manage to write a really good updare, despite being ill.
Poor catherine, she already has a bad feelinf about the situation, but she doesn't have a clue just how bad it is
 
Don't worry about delays, your health is more important. I think its really imoressive, that you manage to write a really good updare, despite being ill.
Poor catherine, she already has a bad feelinf about the situation, but she doesn't have a clue just how bad it is
No problem. Hope you are feeling better. Great update! Catherine is going to be so angry/confused when she finds out what Anne and Charles did!
Don't worry. Your health always comes first.

And Catherine is on to something. The unfortunate, or fortunate, depending on your perspective, is that she'll be just a little too late.
Thank you for the well wishes and I personally think Catherine's reaction, which we will see soon, is not gonna be the most fun one. She is just the one who had the most foreshadowing and tried to stop it, so it's not like she's gonna be an all together surprised by it. Disappointed, yes, surprised, not really.
 
I can't believe I didn't notice this thread before, but I am SO hooked. It's absolutely fantastic so far.

That said, @pandizzy, take care of your health first. Your adoring audience will be here when you return!
 
7th of July, 1522.
The Imperial fleet, Somewhere along the English Channel. 7th of July, 1522.

“How many babies will we have?” Anne asked, her head laying atop Charles’ naked chest. She had a content smile on her face and her cheeks were flushed with remnants of their passionate lovemaking.

Charles sighed, placing a hand over hers, and said, “How many do you want?”

Anne smiled and sat up, her dark hair falling in messy curls around her shoulders. She looked quite beautiful then, with the sunlight streaming in from the window on the ship, the sheets around her beautiful body. “I want as many as possible.” She giggled, “Six, or seven, or eight.”

“Eight? Really?” Charles asked, stretching his body, “We will have to try quite a lot for that many children, you know.”

Her cheeks flushed even more as if that was even possible, and her entire face took on a dark shade of red. She laughed and laid down again, returning her head to its place over his heart, where she could hear the organ beating strongly against her ear.

“Eight children,” she repeated, “And all boys. I shall only give you sons.” Anne knew many would balk at their wedding, one between an Emperor and a simple noblewoman from a country that wasn’t even his, but she was determined to make everyone understand how she was meant for this. If she had to give birth to a thousand sons to make the Spaniards accept her as queen, she would do so, and gladly.

But Charles shook his head, “We need daughters too. For the alliances.”

“The alliances?” Anne asked, confused.

“Yes,” said Charles, smiling fondly at her. He took a lock of her hair in his hand and twirled it around his finger, knotting and unknotting it, “Many will have to be appeased. The Portuguese still hope for me to marry my cousin, Isabella, and we will need to give them a daughter to prevent João from trying to take some of my Castillian lands when they realize this will not be possible. He is married to my sister, but I doubt she alone will be able to keep the peace between our countries. Leonor is smart, but the Portuguese are proud, prouder than me even.”

“Of course,” Anne murmured, pretending to have already known that. She did not want him to think she was lacking just because she had not thought of the Portuguese, “But will he truly try anything? You are the Emperor and the most powerful man alive. No one would dare to go against you.”

“It’s better for me to be prepared,” he told her, “Many will not accept our marriage, my dear. They will think you are too lowborn for me, or that I am weakened by my desires because of the quickness and secrecy of our union. Francis of France, for example. He eyes the Low Countries with desire and pretends not to. If I want our son, whenever he comes, to inherit anything of worth, I will have to fight to defend it.”

Anne shook her head, “May the Portuguese hang then, and whoever else will oppose our marriage. Aisi sera groigne qui groigne.”

Charles arched an eyebrow, “Let them grumble; that is how it is going to be?” he translated.

“My new motto,” said Anne, “I have just decided it.” She sat up again and threw one leg over Charles’ waist, straddling him, “We are married now. No one can tear us apart. You are mine.”

“And you are mine,” he responded, smiling, “So, one daughter for the Portuguese, one daughter for the French.”

Anne smiled and bent down to kiss him deeply once again.
 
Jesus christ, Anne. She can't possible be so godamn stupid that she ignores the alliances and other rulers. Charles is going to have a very difficult time ahead.
 
Oh my, hopefully, they have a fair balance of children, like say four sons and four daughters. The daughters of course would be married off to secure alliances, but it would be interesting to see what a Spanish King with multiple sons would do, perhaps Naples goes to a second son, while the youngest son joins the church. It's also nice to see how happy Charles and Anne are... Great chapter!
 
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