The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
Henry might be still operating under the presumption that Katherine's marriage to Arthur was never consummated--Which could be true, but is also convenient because it ensures the legality of the marriage, the purity Katherine's virginity prior to her second marriage, and Princess Mary's own legitimacy.
Also on the understanding that he was forced to marry Katherine, that he did his duty by her, because it because it was expected of him, but now that he is free to choose his own wife, he's not going to marry another widow - and the twenty year old Marie, barely home from France, is most certainly not that...
Well not better than François, and besides wars done by him due of dynastic claims never went well so far, so one for dynastic honour will go better?
Henry WAS NEVER FORCED to marry Katherine. She was his choice, as Henry VII rejected the bethrotal between Katherine and his second son when Isabella died. When his father died Henry VIII was engaged to Eleanor of Austria, Katherine's niece
We all know that, and you're right, but that's not what my Henry VIII thinks. In his head, everyone expected him to marry Katherine and preserve the Anglo-Spanish alliance. Oh, he loved and respected her and did his duty by her, and he'll always miss her and be grateful to her for giving him Mary, but now he can choose his own wife, he'll not marry another widow. I know it's not historically correct, hell, it even goes against how much he mourned her at the beginning of the TL. But this is Henry. He's well capable of twisting memory to suit himself and his needs at any one moment.
IDK, he had no problem courting Marie de Guise (who was both another man's widow - the duc de Longueville) after Jane Seymour died. And then there was Katheryn Parr, and let's not forget his rumoured seventh wife, Katherine Willoughby, Dowager Duchess of Suffolk. All of whom he had free choice in the matter
But hey, a good politician believes their own lies.Katherine was good and he had wanted her but now he simply wish for a different kind of wife?
Plus he married Katherine because he was in love with her and now he had married Marie Boleyn because he is in love with her...
You have forgotten Kristina of Denmark (who Henry courted a lot and was another widow)IDK, he had no problem courting Marie de Guise (who was both another man's widow - the duc de Longueville) after Jane Seymour died. And then there was Katheryn Parr, and let's not forget his rumoured seventh wife, Katherine Willoughby, Dowager Duchess of Suffolk. All of whom he had free choice in the matter
Well we are talking about Henry
Section XLII - August 1520
Marie was sitting in her apartments, sewing quietly. Her new ladies surrounded her, most of them following her example, though one or two were reading or gossiping amongst themselves. Looking around as she raised her head, Marie smiled contentedly. She had finally begun to make some headway in turning the Queen’s rooms into ones that reflected her, not Katherine. Gone were the near-constant Bible readings in Latin and the stuffy gable hoods of garnet velvet. In their place were elegant gowns of cream satin trimmed with black velvet ribbon, cut in the French style and soft ripples of music, played by the best musicians in England.
Suddenly, the King burst in, beaming as he jolted her out of her reverie.
“You’ll get your way after all, Marie, my sweet. You’ll be coronated in York within the month.”
So stunned was Marie by her husband’s unexpected pronouncement that she didn’t react at first. She only looked up at Henry, blinking stupidly.
“Aren’t you pleased?” Having expected exclamations of joy rather than shocked silence, Henry peered down at his new wife in consternation, “You wanted to be crowned in York, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but it’s such short notice. I would have thought you’d want to plan it with more time, more lead-up, more care.”
“Well, yes, but that was before things changed. Francis has threatened war if I don’t set you aside and marry his sister. Indeed, my spies in his court say he’s already preparing to move on Calais, that he’ll move as soon as the ultimatum he’s issued fails. I need to show him that I won’t be bullied into anything. You will be crowned just as soon as I can arrange it and then I will march on that braggart and give him such a thrashing that he will never presume to meddle in my affairs again.”
Marie forced herself to smile brightly at him, “Of course you will, Henry. How could my dashing husband do anything less? Francis will never be able to stand up to you.”
Her heart, however, was sinking into her slippers. Anne was still at Fontainebleu. Duchess Marguerite might have been fond of her sister when they were girls, but this changed everything. If Henry went to war with France – even at the French King’s instigating -Anne would be one of the enemy. One of the enemy and completely at Francis’s mercy. She couldn’t help but worry for her baby sister.
Henry read her misgivings in her eyes, “You don’t sound as supportive as I would like my Queen to be.”
“No. Of course I see that you must go. It is a matter of honour and I am flattered that you care so much for me that you would go to war over me.”
“Like Menelaus and Agamemmnon went to war with Paris over Helen of Troy,” Henry interrupted, his face softening as he pulled her into his arms and let her rest her cheek on the warm strength of his chest. Marie paused to relax into his hold, before whispering, “But Your Majesty must remember that I spent many of my formative years in France. I feel betrayed that Francis will not do me the honour of recognising our marriage. And also, I am worried about certain people in Fontainebleu.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her husband’s face blackened abruptly and he shoved her away, glaring down at her.
“Are you telling me, Madam, that you are more worried about the safety of your old French friends than whether or not your husband will return safely? My God, I knew I’d married low, but I didn’t realise I’d married a traitoress into the bargain!”
Marie gaped up at Henry, stunned to see him go from loving and tender to puce and spitting furiously within the blink of an eye. His calling her a traitoress cut her to the quick and tears pooled in her eyes as she tumbled to her knees before him, freeing her hair as she did so.
“My Lord, please! You don’t understand. Of course I shall be praying for you. And for anyone else who goes into battle to defend our right to be wed. That would only be right and just; my sworn duty as your wife and Queen. But I left my sister behind in France. She’s barely more than a child. I fear what Francis might do to her, if he wishes to wreak his vengeance upon me and mine. He’s declaring war on you, just for marrying me instead of her. What will he do to Annie, who’s my sister? Who shares my blood? Who’s already within his reach?”
She buried her face in her hands, shoulders heaving as she wept. A heartbeat passed. Two.
Then the King’s arms were around her, holding her tight. He helped her up, stroking her hair and rocking her in his arms in an attempt to soothe her fear and her pain.
“Oh, Marie, darling,” he breathed, “You were right. I didn’t understand. It’s only natural you must be worried about young Lady Anne. But don’t be. I’m bringing home all my other envoys before Francis marches. I’ll make sure she’s among them. I promise. So dry your eyes, sweetheart. Your concern does you great credit, but I’ll have her home, safe and sound, in time for your coronation.”
“Really?”
“Do you really think I’d leave her there? When she’s in danger and you’re about to be crowned? No, no, darling. A Queen can’t be crowned without her sister at her side to bear her train, can she now?”
Marie shook her head slightly, sniffing. She leaned back into him, drawing comfort from his promises and his embrace.
Suddenly, the King burst in, beaming as he jolted her out of her reverie.
“You’ll get your way after all, Marie, my sweet. You’ll be coronated in York within the month.”
So stunned was Marie by her husband’s unexpected pronouncement that she didn’t react at first. She only looked up at Henry, blinking stupidly.
“Aren’t you pleased?” Having expected exclamations of joy rather than shocked silence, Henry peered down at his new wife in consternation, “You wanted to be crowned in York, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but it’s such short notice. I would have thought you’d want to plan it with more time, more lead-up, more care.”
“Well, yes, but that was before things changed. Francis has threatened war if I don’t set you aside and marry his sister. Indeed, my spies in his court say he’s already preparing to move on Calais, that he’ll move as soon as the ultimatum he’s issued fails. I need to show him that I won’t be bullied into anything. You will be crowned just as soon as I can arrange it and then I will march on that braggart and give him such a thrashing that he will never presume to meddle in my affairs again.”
Marie forced herself to smile brightly at him, “Of course you will, Henry. How could my dashing husband do anything less? Francis will never be able to stand up to you.”
Her heart, however, was sinking into her slippers. Anne was still at Fontainebleu. Duchess Marguerite might have been fond of her sister when they were girls, but this changed everything. If Henry went to war with France – even at the French King’s instigating -Anne would be one of the enemy. One of the enemy and completely at Francis’s mercy. She couldn’t help but worry for her baby sister.
Henry read her misgivings in her eyes, “You don’t sound as supportive as I would like my Queen to be.”
“No. Of course I see that you must go. It is a matter of honour and I am flattered that you care so much for me that you would go to war over me.”
“Like Menelaus and Agamemmnon went to war with Paris over Helen of Troy,” Henry interrupted, his face softening as he pulled her into his arms and let her rest her cheek on the warm strength of his chest. Marie paused to relax into his hold, before whispering, “But Your Majesty must remember that I spent many of my formative years in France. I feel betrayed that Francis will not do me the honour of recognising our marriage. And also, I am worried about certain people in Fontainebleu.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Her husband’s face blackened abruptly and he shoved her away, glaring down at her.
“Are you telling me, Madam, that you are more worried about the safety of your old French friends than whether or not your husband will return safely? My God, I knew I’d married low, but I didn’t realise I’d married a traitoress into the bargain!”
Marie gaped up at Henry, stunned to see him go from loving and tender to puce and spitting furiously within the blink of an eye. His calling her a traitoress cut her to the quick and tears pooled in her eyes as she tumbled to her knees before him, freeing her hair as she did so.
“My Lord, please! You don’t understand. Of course I shall be praying for you. And for anyone else who goes into battle to defend our right to be wed. That would only be right and just; my sworn duty as your wife and Queen. But I left my sister behind in France. She’s barely more than a child. I fear what Francis might do to her, if he wishes to wreak his vengeance upon me and mine. He’s declaring war on you, just for marrying me instead of her. What will he do to Annie, who’s my sister? Who shares my blood? Who’s already within his reach?”
She buried her face in her hands, shoulders heaving as she wept. A heartbeat passed. Two.
Then the King’s arms were around her, holding her tight. He helped her up, stroking her hair and rocking her in his arms in an attempt to soothe her fear and her pain.
“Oh, Marie, darling,” he breathed, “You were right. I didn’t understand. It’s only natural you must be worried about young Lady Anne. But don’t be. I’m bringing home all my other envoys before Francis marches. I’ll make sure she’s among them. I promise. So dry your eyes, sweetheart. Your concern does you great credit, but I’ll have her home, safe and sound, in time for your coronation.”
“Really?”
“Do you really think I’d leave her there? When she’s in danger and you’re about to be crowned? No, no, darling. A Queen can’t be crowned without her sister at her side to bear her train, can she now?”
Marie shook her head slightly, sniffing. She leaned back into him, drawing comfort from his promises and his embrace.
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Anne's a Boleyn, she knows where her loyalty lies, so no, no spying. But she will always think of France as her second home and Marguerite as the mother she never felt she had.
Indeed. But Henry knows his classics. Of course he's going to mention that - particularly given how much he likes exaggerating...