The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518

Just remember that there are wives... and then there are mistresses. I could see Henry keeping Mary around but burning through a string of 'secret' lovers like candy.
And, if Mary is smart, she won't say anything about those mistresses. With a son in the cradle, her position is assured, and mistresses were a something all Kings did, with very few exceptions...
 
Just remember that there are wives... and then there are mistresses. I could see Henry keeping Mary around but burning through a string of 'secret' lovers like candy.
I never said he wouldn't have mistresses... For heaven's sake, I'm in the process of writing him one as we speak...
 
And, if Mary is smart, she won't say anything about those mistresses. With a son in the cradle, her position is assured, and mistresses were a something all Kings did, with very few exceptions...

At most, she might pull a stunt like Gregory's Katherine of Aragon and give him permission. I know, I know, Gregory is not necessarily someone to emulate, but I have always admired her characterisations to an extent...
 
At most, she might pull a stunt like Gregory's Katherine of Aragon and give him permission. I know, I know, Gregory is not necessarily someone to emulate, but I have always admired her characterisations to an extent...

Or she can set Henry up with a mistress of her choosing that will be an ally in court.
 
Well a private meeting might have been a better place to break that news... still the entire *did* already know...

Guess even the Royal Jester won't be able to calm Henry down here.

Perhaps some hunting?
 
Section CXIX - December 1522
Fair warning, this is not a chapter I was comfortable writing, but it needed to be done, if only to show how dangerous even this Henry can be to the women around him... If you're not comfortable with non-consensual sexual intercourse, skip this chapter! Please! I promise normal service resumes next chapter!

Bridewell, December 1522

Henry reached his rooms and snarled, “Fetch me Lady Honour.”

A page bowed and scuttled from the room. Minutes later, Honour stood before him.

“You wanted to see me, Sire,” she breathed, sweeping to the floor in a deep, submissive curtsy.

Henry smiled at the sight of her. Here, at least, was one girl who knew how to please him.

“You’d never disobey me, would you, Honour? Never resist me? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” he asked urgently, punctuating his words with harsh, furious kisses.

“Of course not, Sire,” she panted, “I’m a Fitzgerald, born of Oliver. Da knew that loyalty to the Tudors – the fairest blooming dynasty in all of Europe – had to be as integral a part of us as our own breathing. Were I to disobey Your Majesty, well, I would doubtless die of shame upon the instant that I realised what had happened.”

“Good,” Henry gasped, “Stay that way, my little emerald, stay that way.”

Without warning, he snatched her up and flung her on the nearest couch, wrenching her dove-grey skirts up so hard that they tore.

“Majesty!” Honour gasped, realising with horror what was about to happen. She made to struggle, but Henry pinned her down with one arm, fumbling with his codpiece and britches with the other.

“You swore not two seconds ago that you’d never dare gainsay me,” he warned, “Don’t go back on that now.”

He climbed up above her, ignoring the way her mouth was torn open in a silent scream, ignoring her shock, even her muffled yelp of pain as he plunged into her and drew her first, maiden blood. He was unaware of anything but his desires and his animal need to satisfy them.
 
@FalconHonour Well I guess that was going to happen. That or someone(s) get impaled on the end of a sword.

I hope there is no issue from this. More bastards will not help here.

Wonder what might have happened if the Queen had approached Henry's bed chambers after he had summoned her to Court but before the dinner? Could they have made up the using the ancient way of mammals?
 
@FalconHonour Well I guess that was going to happen. That or someone(s) get impaled on the end of a sword.

I hope there is no issue from this. More bastards will not help here.

Wonder what might have happened if the Queen had approached Henry's bed chambers after he had summoned her to Court but before the dinner? Could they have made up the using the ancient way of mammals?

Possibly, it might have worked. But that's where Marie's nature turns against her. She's not bold enough to do that - though her younger sister might have done...

As for bastards, well, we're only in 1522. Henry was clearly virile for at least another fourteen years OTL.
 
This reminded me of something I read about Louis XIV in a book titled 'Sex with Kings', he used to 'have his way' with serving women from time to time when they were working, and then afterwards they'd have to get dressed and get back to work like nothing had happened.

But this... A reminder that Henry VIII is the English Nero.
 
This reminded me of something I read about Louis XIV in a book titled 'Sex with Kings', he used to 'have his way' with serving women from time to time when they were working, and then afterwards they'd have to get dressed and get back to work like nothing had happened.

But this... A reminder that Henry VIII is the English Nero.
Yeah. I wanted to remind people that even this more stable Henry VIII can have his dangerous moments..
 
Section CXX - December 1522
I decided we all needed cheering up after that horrible last chapter, so without further ado:

Bridewell, December 1522
Anne and Harry were married as quickly as possible in a small, inconspicuous ceremony that was far removed from the lavish one Marie had been hoping to give them. But to Anne, it didn’t matter. She might have been wearing an old crimson satin gown cut down from her sister’s wardrobe rather than shining new cloth of silver, there might only have been half a dozen guests rather than hundreds, but she was marrying the man she loved, the father of her child. That was what mattered.

As such, her eyes were shining as they met her older sister’s during their last, hurried, embrace.

“Thank you so much. For being here, for letting me marry him, for...” Anne broke off as her emotions threatened to choke her. Marie hugged her hard, pressing a ruby and opal choker into her hand.

“It’s all I could come up with on such short notice. I’m sorry it’s not more, but go. Go, little sister. Take care of each other and go. I’ll write when it’s safe for you to come back to Court.”

“When your fool of a husband has come to his senses, you mean,” Anne retorted, drawing a stifled chuckle from Marie before Harry bent to kiss his new sister’s hand.

“Madam, thank you for entrusting me with this precious jewel. I swear I will treasure her all the days of my life.”

“See that you do, Lord Percy. See that you do. But for now, Godspeed. You have a destination in mind?”

“Yes, but we’ll not burden you with that knowledge, in case the King decides to pursue us after all. God be with Your Majesty.”

“And also with you, Lord and Lady Percy,” Marie nodded, kissing them both one last time, for once grateful for the formality that made it so necessary, yet so much easier, for her to keep her emotions in check. She stood in the palace doorway, watching as Harry helped Anne on to her horse and mounted up himself. She feared for the life of Anne’s unborn child at the thought of the hard ride they had ahead of them, but said nothing, unwilling to burden the young couple any further. And then it was too late. They trotted away, leaving her torn between relief that they, at least, were away from the poisonous snake-pit that the English Court had become and wishing she could keep her little sister with her, both to amuse her and be honest with her in a way that no one else save George would be, and also so that she could mollycoddle Anne through her first pregnancy the way she deserved. Marie just hoped that, wherever Anne and Harry ended up, someone would take pity on Anne, if she didn’t lose the child before then.

Swiping her moistening eyes on the back of her hand, Marie turned back into the palace, determined not to give her ill-wishers any more reason to speak against her.
 
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