Richmond Palace, Kingdom of England, March 1514
Johanne looked upon her with worry plain on her face,“Milady, you must rest!”
As she waddled towards the closed door, Eleanor snapped at her chief lady,”You would be wise not to use such a word towards your Queen.”
After trying to open the locked door in vain, she pounded it with her fist several times, and turned around, a sneer on her face,”Why is it locked?” Am I to be confined to my rooms like a common prisoner?!”
The older woman across from her took a breath,”No, because prisoners do not have people to attend upon them my Queen, and they seldom ever have children in their bellies to think about. Now please, calm yourself so that we may all have some peace.”
Eleanor laughed sardonically at this, and turned around, eyebrows knitted in a scowl,”Why? So that my husband can fuck that old whore Anne Stafford in peace?”
A smirk came across her face for a brief moment,”I tell you that he will not know peace while he shares a bed with her.”
She then pounded the door even harder, blood slowly trickling out of her knuckles, and shouted,”Do you hear me Henry you bastard?! You will not have any peace when you are with her!”
Eleanor felt a tug on her left sleeve, and she turned around, livid, to find Doortje easing her away from the door,”Eleanor please, have a care for the baby.”
Nobody cares for me, or how my heart breaks, I’ve had enough of this! Without any warning she slapped the girl hard on the cheek with her right hand, screaming,”Get your fucking hand off of me!”
Doortje yelped as she stumbled backward onto the floor, and even Eleanor herself was shocked by what she had just done. The reaction to this from Doortje's sisters, mother and the other ladies was also that of surprise, with Johanne closing her eyes for a moment to compose herself. Doortje for her part stayed on the floor, snuffling as a few tears fell down her face. Eleanor shook her head, guilty that she lashed out in such a way,”Doortje, I am so sorry. It was most unfair of me to strike you.”
The young woman nodded as she moved to get back on her feet, and the Queen of England began to feel some relief, that was at least until the moment she felt something hot and wet slide down her legs. Shaking, she gripped a table to keep herself from falling, and eyes wide in terror asked,”What is happening now?”
Johanne rushed forward, holding Eleanor in her arms to keep her on her feet,”I believe that you are beginning to have your child my Queen.”
She paused to look over her shoulder to the others,”Martijna, fetch the birthing stool, Caroljin go send word to the King that it has begun.”
Eleanor had never felt so scared in her entire life, and squeezed Johanne’s hand,”Do you think the baby and I will live?”
The older woman stroked her hair, gently hushing the girl,”You will be fine, I promise you that everything will be alright.”
…
Fortune would have it that Johanne’s assurances were correct. The birth was of course painful, and rather difficult, but Eleanor thought it all worth it as she held her little son in her arms. She gazed upon the baby’s soft, pink skin as he slept and whispered,”Henry, Duke of Cornwall, and one day, God willing, you will be Henry the Ninth.”
A soft knocking sound entered her ears, and despite her fatigue, she lifted her head up to see how would enter. Slowly peeking his head in, was her husband, who, until this moment she had loved and hated in equal measure. Eleanor could see him mouth something, as if to say Is it safe to enter? Johanne nodded her head, green gabble hat fixed perfectly in place despite recent events, and so he entered. He came across the room faster than she would’ve expected, lowered himself, and, to her surprise, kissed her on the head several times before looking at their son. Grinning, he praised her,”Oh Eleanor, you’ve done it. We have a son, a perfect little boy.”
Eleanor smiled a little at this, satisfied to hear him speak her praises. After pausing for but a moment, Henry grimaced a little,”I am sorry if I have distressed you as of late. I hope it will please you to know that Anne Stafford is no longer my mistress.”
Tears blurred her vision, and for once, they were tears of gratitude,”Oh Henry.”
Husband and wife would spend the rest of the evening bonding over the arrival of their newborn son, and, despite their pride, apologized to each other for all the mutual slights that had occurred over the last month.