There were letters from both of them to Mary, but you don't want me to elaborate on them

Also I went back in the latest chapter and edited in something minor, because I forgot to add a footnote to one of the butterflies :coldsweat:
 
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I'm surprised that Margaret's reaction isn't something like: *Supreme bum shaking in front of the entire court as she does a happy dance of joy.*
 
With Mary's household which was formerly dissolved by Henry during his reign now having been restored after her accession to the throne, what has happened to the deceased Catherine's old personal retinue? Have her ladies-in-waiting been mostly absorbed into Mary's royal household, or have they been dissolved and allowed to return to the royal court?
 
With Mary's household which was formerly dissolved by Henry during his reign now having been restored after her accession to the throne, what has happened to the deceased Catherine's old personal retinue? Have her ladies-in-waiting been mostly absorbed into Mary's royal household, or have they been dissolved and allowed to return to the royal court?

Unless I accidentally omitted a paragraph again, Mary reformed her own Welsh household and absorbed both Catherine's and Anne's.
 
Technically, they'd be the jewels of the Queen Consort. I'm not sure whether she'd turn them into the jewels of an actual Queen...
They are either the Crown jewels or the jewels of the Queen meaning who they would be worn by the Queen, either Consort or Regnant.
 

johnreiter

Banned
I just discovered this, and it promises to be one of my favorite timelines. I love the 16th century. The research and the writing are both excellent.
 
A Match Fit for a Queen
“Much has been written about the turbulent marital histories of the House of Tudor. Perhaps the founders of the dynasty, Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, had set the bar too high for their descendants, who had risked everything from a diplomatic scandal to a break with the church chasing after marriages approaching their forebears’ famed love match. Their granddaughter, Mary, was no exception. Already in her twentieth year and yet still unwed upon her accession, one of the chief policies in her first year of reign was to secure herself a husband and a useful alliance for England.

Mary had ruled for half a year as an unusually wet summer of 1536 came to England, and it was by this time that it became evident to all that queen and council were not of one mind after all. While her privy council continued to push for a marriage that would consolidate the Tudor and Plantagenet claims — and indeed, Cromwell was already drafting a treatise regarding a match to the King of Scots before news of his marriage to Madeleine de Valois reached the English court — Mary had a different sort of idea for a husband. It did not miss the court’s notice that the Dauphin’s visit had made a profound impression on the queen, who was so starved of companionship and affection during her years in limbo that she would continuously search for it for the rest of her life.

Amongst the ambassadors surrounding the queen, there too was a shift in dynamics. While previously it had been the Imperial ambassador Chapuys who enjoyed the queen’s favour, now it was the French Castelnau who would be frequenting the audience chambre. It is from his despatches that we glimpse a clear view of Mary’s plans. On the sixth of June, the same date that she reassured her cousin Charles that she would not marry without his blessing, Mary summoned Castelnau to her chambre and scrutinized him regarding the Dauphin, the most pertinent question of which was whether his hand was already disposed of elsewhere and if his master, the King, would be amenable to present his son’s suit. The Queen, Castelnau writes, nodded sagely as he replied in the negative, anxiously thumbing the jewelled cross that hung on her neck before dismissing him.”

— Alexandra Huber, Princess, Bastard, Queen: Elizabeth of York and her granddaughters


“Chapuys knew nothing of his French equivalent’s dealings with the queen. In his belief that Mary was still the same terrified and abused girl at Hatfield, Chapuys unwisely believed that he had the queen’s complete confidence, even writing to the Emperor that surely the Queen Mary would wed a Habsburg relation on his advice, and that Charles need only tell his servant when and which.

She was, in fact, proving herself to be the granddaughter of Ferdinand the Fox and the pragmatic Henry VII, double-crossing the various factions of her court by playing the role of a maiden submissive to her male relatives for one faction while conducting underhanded dealings with another. The truth, once it became apparent, would cause a rift between the Queen and the Imperial ambassador, and from then on, the quasi-paternal relationship would cool into a strictly business one.”

— Laurent Michaux, Le Savoyard: Eustace Chapuys and the Tudor Court


“By August, the ruse was all over. The Privy Council, incensed that the Queen had come to a decision without consulting them, had to a man backed Suffolk and Rutland who were to have a private audience with the queen. Mary delayed the meeting for some two weeks, pleading her delicate health, but now she could no longer avoid it. With a dismissive air, she listened as her councilors listed their grievances against the proposed French match: that her subjects would not countenance a foreign king, that said king might wish out of husbandly tyranny to remove Her Majesty and her issue to his own domains, that England would be dragged to pointless foreign wars and bankrupt the treasury, and that should the queen predecease him, her husband might take it upon himself to rule in his own right and turn their proud realm into a mere outpost.

Mary coolly thanked her uncles for their sound advice, but went on to chastise them for their presumption to dictate for her a companion in her marriage bed, declaring that as a free woman, she had the ‘full right and sufficient years to discern for herself a suitable partner in love,’ [1] who would be a great advantage and ally to her realm of England, and that as queen, her affairs were divinely inspired. The next day, as the Commons repeated the same arguments, Mary once again asserted her authority as queen, declaring that she will not live a year or beget issue should Parliament force her into a marriage against her will.”

— Nan Tulloch, Queen’s Gambit


“That evening of the Feast of the Assumption, Marie took matters into her own hands. Summoning the French ambassador into her rooms, Castelnau found the queen alone save for the presence of two trusted ladies, her cousins Marguerite and Françoise. Before the altar of the Blessed Sacrament, all four knelt and sang the invocation Veni Creator Spiritus. When the hymn was finished, Marie rose to her feet, her eyes shining with tears as she made her announcement. The Holy Spirit had come into her dreams that night, she said, urging her to wed the Dauphin for the sake of eternal peace between their two realms. By this divine guidance, therefore, she must formally accept the union between herself and the future King of France. [2]”
— Àurea Carcellé, Feme Sole: Les Reines Indomptables du XVIe Siècle
___________________
[1] Verbatim what Mary said in Parliament IOTL when they asked her to reconsider her marriage to Philip.
[2] Exactly what happened the night Mary formally accepted the proposal from Renard, except the lady present was Susan Clarencius. Honestly, it couldn't get more dramatic than that so I just decided to roll with it. As one does.
 
“Much has been written about the turbulent marital histories of the House of Tudor. Perhaps the founders of the dynasty, Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, had set the bar too high for their descendants, who had risked everything from a diplomatic scandal to a break with the church chasing after marriages approaching their forebears’ famed love match. Their granddaughter, Mary, was no exception. Already in her twentieth year and yet still unwed upon her accession, one of the chief policies in her first year of reign was to secure herself a husband and a useful alliance for England.

Mary had ruled for half a year as an unusually wet summer of 1536 came to England, and it was by this time that it became evident to all that queen and council were not of one mind after all. While her privy council continued to push for a marriage that would consolidate the Tudor and Plantagenet claims — and indeed, Cromwell was already drafting a treatise regarding a match to the King of Scots before news of his marriage to Madeleine de Valois reached the English court — Mary had a different sort of idea for a husband. It did not miss the court’s notice that the Dauphin’s visit had made a profound impression on the queen, who was so starved of companionship and affection during her years in limbo that she would continuously search for it for the rest of her life.

Amongst the ambassadors surrounding the queen, there too was a shift in dynamics. While previously it had been the Imperial ambassador Chapuys who enjoyed the queen’s favour, now it was the French Castelnau who would be frequenting the audience chambre. It is from his despatches that we glimpse a clear view of Mary’s plans. On the sixth of June, the same date that she reassured her cousin Charles that she would not marry without his blessing, Mary summoned Castelnau to her chambre and scrutinized him regarding the Dauphin, the most pertinent question of which was whether his hand was already disposed of elsewhere and if his master, the King, would be amenable to present his son’s suit. The Queen, Castelnau writes, nodded sagely as he replied in the negative, anxiously thumbing the jewelled cross that hung on her neck before dismissing him.”

— Alexandra Huber, Princess, Bastard, Queen: Elizabeth of York and her granddaughters


“Chapuys knew nothing of his French equivalent’s dealings with the queen. In his belief that Mary was still the same terrified and abused girl at Hatfield, Chapuys unwisely believed that he had the queen’s complete confidence, even writing to the Emperor that surely the Queen Mary would wed a Habsburg relation on his advice, and that Charles need only tell his servant when and which.

She was, in fact, proving herself to be the granddaughter of Ferdinand the Fox and the pragmatic Henry VII, double-crossing the various factions of her court by playing the role of a maiden submissive to her male relatives for one faction while conducting underhanded dealings with another. The truth, once it became apparent, would cause a rift between the Queen and the Imperial ambassador, and from then on, the quasi-paternal relationship would cool into a strictly business one.”

— Laurent Michaux, Le Savoyard: Eustace Chapuys and the Tudor Court


“By August, the ruse was all over. The Privy Council, incensed that the Queen had come to a decision without consulting them, had to a man backed Suffolk and Rutland who were to have a private audience with the queen. Mary delayed the meeting for some two weeks, pleading her delicate health, but now she could no longer avoid it. With a dismissive air, she listened as her councilors listed their grievances against the proposed French match: that her subjects would not countenance a foreign king, that said king might wish out of husbandly tyranny to remove Her Majesty and her issue to his own domains, that England would be dragged to pointless foreign wars and bankrupt the treasury, and that should the queen predecease him, her husband might take it upon himself to rule in his own right and turn their proud realm into a mere outpost.

Mary coolly thanked her uncles for their sound advice, but went on to chastise them for their presumption to dictate for her a companion in her marriage bed, declaring that as a free woman, she had the ‘full right and sufficient years to discern for herself a suitable partner in love,’ [1] who would be a great advantage and ally to her realm of England, and that as queen, her affairs were divinely inspired. The next day, as the Commons repeated the same arguments, Mary once again asserted her authority as queen, declaring that she will not live a year or beget issue should Parliament force her into a marriage against her will.”

— Nan Tulloch, Queen’s Gambit


“That evening of the Feast of the Assumption, Marie took matters into her own hands. Summoning the French ambassador into her rooms, Castelnau found the queen alone save for the presence of two trusted ladies, her cousins Marguerite and Françoise. Before the altar of the Blessed Sacrament, all four knelt and sang the invocation Veni Creator Spiritus. When the hymn was finished, Marie rose to her feet, her eyes shining with tears as she made her announcement. The Holy Spirit had come into her dreams that night, she said, urging her to wed the Dauphin for the sake of eternal peace between their two realms. By this divine guidance, therefore, she must formally accept the union between herself and the future King of France. [2]”
— Àurea Carcellé, Feme Sole: Les Reines Indomptables du XVIe Siècle
___________________
[1] Verbatim what Mary said in Parliament IOTL when they asked her to reconsider her marriage to Philip.
[2] Exactly what happened the night Mary formally accepted the proposal from Renard, except the lady present was Susan Clarencius. Honestly, it couldn't get more dramatic than that so I just decided to roll with it. As one does.
Ooh, nice! So she's going to be queen of England and France? And probably offend the hell out of Charles V...which will be interesting. We need to see a Henry IX of England and II of France to completely break Chapuys' mind
 
Ooh, nice! So she's going to be queen of England and France? And probably offend the hell out of Charles V...which will be interesting. We need to see a Henry IX of England and II of France to completely break Chapuys' mind
Little Frankie will need to live long enough to sire a son for that... even if he can avoid his OTL illness, he's got all of English parliament looking up assassin price ranges.
 
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