It's not that bad! At least not if cooked properly. Foreigners always seem to find bad places to eat for their first impressions....
The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
Haha, I actually never had English food(that I know of) or have been to England, the whole bad English food thing is something of a popular joke in the US...
Section CLX - October 1524
Woodstock, October 1524
“Maria? Come in here a moment, darling.”
Maria paused as Papa called to her from his Privy Chamber after Mass. She glanced behind her, and dismissed Kate and Meg with a wave of her hand.
“Go on, Kate. Go and find Lord Derby,” she teased. Kate went red at the mention of the young Earl and Meg giggled behind her hand.
Maria exchanged glances with her cousin as the older girl hurried off, before turning and skipping into Papa’s chamber, curtsying to him.
“Good morning, Papa.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he returned her curtsy with a quick half-bow before bending to kiss her and pull her jewelled cap off so that he could run his hand through her hair.
“What was that I heard about Lord Derby?” he asked, as he put a hand on her shoulder and steered her into the centre of the room, nodding to the silent pages to shut the door behind them.
“Kate likes him,” Maria answered, tossing her head, “She thinks Meg and I can’t tell, because we’re younger than she is, but we can. She danced with no one else last night – well, except her brother.”
“Does she now?” Papa smiled, his eyes twinkling, “Well, she is twelve. Old enough to be thinking of marriage, and Edward’s a fine boy not much older than her. I’m not surprised she’s taken a fancy to him. And what do you think? Do you think they could be happy together?”
Maria blinked. What was Papa asking her that for?
“I don’t know! I don’t know Edward at all. How would I know whether he and Kate could be happy together?”
“Well, I suggest you watch them, Maria. You’re getting to the age now where people will be expecting you to start having an opinion on whether your ladies marry and who they’ll marry if they do. There’s no great rush with Kate and Edward, Kate has only just turned twelve, after all, but think about it. Watch them together for a bit, talk to Kate and if you think their match could work, let me know and I’ll make it clear to Lady Parr that I’d be most pleased if she would consider taking my ward as her son-in-law. All right?”
Papa looked down at her, his eyes unusually solemn. She nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility settle around her shoulders like a cloak as she did so.
“Good girl,” Papa patted her shoulder, “Now, I didn’t call you in here to talk about Kate and Edward, pleasant though our diversion has been. I brought you in here because we need to talk about your lands in France. You remember Lord Hastings, don’t you?”
Papa waved across the table and Maria jolted slightly, only then realising that there was another man in the room. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she dipped into a brief curtsy to hide the way her skin was burning, “Lord Hastings.”
“Madame la Dauphine,” he bowed, coming around the table to kiss her hand, his breath warm against her fingers for the briefest of instants.
“Lord Hastings is to be Dickon’s governor and tutor when he’s old enough, Maria. It only makes sense that our Governor of Normandy should also raise its future Duke, does it not?”
“Yes, Papa,” Maria agreed obediently, before pausing, “Did you say…”
“I did. I intend to officially invest Dickon as Duke of York and Normandy as soon as he’s old enough to play a part in the ceremony. And there we hit the snag. The lands I invested you with as Countess of Avranches are a huge swathe of Normandy. If Dickon is truly to be Duke of Normandy, then they should be his, not yours.”
“Oh, but he can have them!” Maria laughed. Was that all that was troubling Papa? What did she care for some small towns and damp fields in France that she’d never even seen? Dickon could have them and welcome! “I don’t mind. Honest, I don’t.”
“Really?” Papa’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, “Would you sign a document officially handing them over to me so that I can grant them back to Dickon when he’s older?”
“Of course I will, Papa. Send for ink and parchment and I’ll do it now.”
To prove how willing she was, Maria sank down on to a stool by the table and picked up a discarded quill. She looked up at Papa expectantly and he gave a great bellow of laughter.
“That’s my pearl. Every bit a delightful daughter!”
He clapped his hands, and a page scurried forward with a heavy scroll, “Sign this for me, my darling, and those lands will be Dickon’s just as soon as ever they can. You’d better use your Avranches title, just to make it official.”
“Yes, Papa,” Needing no encouragement, Maria drew the quill through the bold strokes of the signature Lady Bury had drilled into her from the moment they had begun formal lessons together: Maria, Countess of Avranches.
When she pushed the stool back and stood up, Papa beamed down at her, “Thank you, my darling. You needn’t worry about losing any income. I’ll see you rewarded for this,” As Lord Hastings bent over the parchment to sign as witness, he suddenly lifted her up into his arms, as he hadn’t done for ages, “How would you like to be My Lady of Clarence? I’ll give you the Irish Clarence lands in exchange for these.”
Maria shrugged. She didn’t mind what lands she had to call her own. Not when Papa was beaming down at her and lifting her into his arms as though she was as light as a feather. Big girl though she was now, Papa’s approval was still all the reward she really needed.
Awww, that is so sweet. I wonder if Mary will receive a replacement title in southern Normandy to appease the French? Maybe Countess of Maine if the county is under Henry's control? Great chapter!
Oh she's due another title, but it's an Irish one, not a French one...
Now that was an interesting chapter. Mary's lands taken and passed onto her Brother? I wonder what happens if Dickon cannot take them up?
Henry is of course right when he says she needs to start thinking about politics and relationships.
I wonder if she regrets giving up Normandy for Ireland later in life- the former is much richer than the latter after all.
Henry is of course right when he says she needs to start thinking about politics and relationships.
I wonder if she regrets giving up Normandy for Ireland later in life- the former is much richer than the latter after all.
Just to play Devil's advocate, while Ireland is relatively poorer than Normandy. Normand is right next to France which means it will be the first point of contact in any war, thereby requiring a larger and more constant army than Ireland. Also, the worth of someone's titled land means nothing if you lose them or have them devastated in a future war.
I suspect the French will make her regret it - to them, she's their Dauphine. She should not be giving up such a large swathe of France so easily....
Well she is not yet married to Henri and France had lost badly the last war...
Well, quite.... But this resentment isn't going to make her marriage any easier, that's for sure!
Thanks. I love writing little Maria, especially given she has a happier childhood and a big sister figure in Kate Parr. 🙃
Section CLXI - March 1525
France, March 1525
Louise of Savoy stared down at the crumpled letter the messenger had pressed into her hand earlier that morning, gaping in horror. She blinked, then closed her eyes and stood up. She turned away from the letter, and retreated into her bedchamber, where she knelt before her pre-dieu and slid her rosary blindly from her belt into her hands.
The cool wooden beads clicked against her fingers as she began to count off Ave Marias and Pater Nosters, a silent prayer coursing through her blood in tandem with the spoken words: “Please God, let it not be true. Let me not have read the letter properly. Please God, let it not be true.”
Only once she had completed a full rosary of prayer did she stand, her breath calmer, and return to her desk where she had left the letter.
Pressing her lips together, she picked the single sheet of parchment up again and read it over.
To her despair, the words were no different on a second reading.
“Ma chere Maman,
To inform you of how the rest of my ill-fortune is proceeding, all is lost to me save honour and life, which is safe…”
Tears sprang to her eyes and she had to push a hand against her mouth to stifle a cry of horror.
Her boy, her beautiful boy was a prisoner of the Emperor.
Suddenly, anger coursed through her. Not at Francois, or at the Emperor, but at King Henry of England. If he hadn’t taken Normandy all those years ago; if he hadn’t rubbed salt into the wound by making it abundantly clear that he had plans to gift the very lands he was honour-bound to use as his daughter’s dowry to his second son, Lord Richard, a babe who could scarcely even hold his head up alone, then Francois would never have had anything to prove, to himself, to the Court, to the world. He would never have been stung into crossing the Alps himself. He’d never have been on that battlefield at Pavia and he wouldn’t be languishing in an Imperial prison.
For an instant, Louise wanted nothing more than to tear the treaty her son had signed with King Henry into a thousand tiny pieces, to repudiate the English Princess as lightly as King Henry had done his side of the agreement. Let him see how he liked to be dishonoured.
But, as quickly as the impulse had come, it faded. Little though she liked it, she couldn’t afford to alienate the English King now. Not when she needed him to exert influence on the Emperor to get Francois released, or at least to soften the terms of his imprisonment.
Swallowing hard, Louise reached for quill and ink, intending to craft a missive to London, to appeal for help from the man who would one day be her grandson’s father-in-law.
She sat at her desk for several long moments, the quill poised in the air.
Tears welled in her eyes like a fresh wave crashing against the shore, and this time she couldn’t hold it back.
“Francois! My beautiful Francois!”
The words escaped her on a guttural howl and she laid her head on her arms and wept as though her heart would break.
Yup. But Pavia was too important a moment to be glossed over, I felt. We will be covering the rest of this TL in slices of life scenes, I think, as that's what I'm best at writing, if I'm honest...
Poor Louise, hopefully Francis will get better treatment, or at least not have his sons imprisoned as his heir is betrothed to the Emperor's cousin....