Chapter 70, May 1514
Richmond Palace, Kingdom of England, May 1514
The first hint that anything was wrong was the weather. The wind howled, and the rain was torrential, so much so that there was worry of floods, though the month had been quite dry so far. Eleanor had been enjoying herself in spite of this, having just engaged in a certain more “athletic” activity with her husband again for the first time in nearly a year. Sweat glistened on her forehead and the two panted in the wake of what they had just finished doing. Eleanor sat up and leaned towards the end table adjacent to the bed, drinking some cool water out of a goblet. Henry meanwhile lazily lay on his side, twirling a curl of her hair in his finger,”You are so beautiful.”
Eleanor turned to him and smirked, rolling her dark eyes playfully,”Well I know that.”
This caused her husband to break out in hearty laughter, and Eleanor herself joined him in it, interrupting him with the occasional kiss. Stroking one of her chestnut locks back into place, Eleanor murmured,”Your sister was most kind to make us godparents to her son John.“
“Well of course, though I dare say it took some convincing to get that husband of hers to agree to return the favor that we gave them, what with me giving them the privilege of sponsoring little Henry.”
“I hope that the boys can be allies one day, they were born just weeks apart after all, and the relationship between England and Denmark has proved to be a profitable one.”
The pair continued to talk at length, mostly about their families, with the latest piece of news from the continent being that her grandfather Maximillian pledged that he would wed Anne of Bohemia and Hungary shortly after her fourteenth birthday.
The two enjoyed their time alone until the sound of a rap on the door entered the room. Putting her nightclothes back on, Eleanor walked towards the door while Henry was sliding his nightshirt back on and she said,“What is it, it had better be something important?”
The door swung upon, and revealed was Margaret Bryan, face drained of all color. She fell to her knees,”Your Majesties…”
Confused, Eleanor asked,“What is wrong Lady Bryan?”
“I…” The woman tried to say more, but it appeared that she could not bring herself to do so. Henry, now by his wife’s side lifted Margaret up shaking her, and spluttered, clearly panicked,”What is it woman? For the love of God tell me what upsets you so!”
Eleanor could see tears welling up in Lady Bryan’s eyes, and she knew what she was to say before the words even exited her mouth,”Its my Lord Cornwall…”
“What of my son, is he ill?” The King demanded
“I am so sorry but he has joined God and his angels, your majesty, one moment he was fine, and then when I went to check on him while he napped, he was still.”
Henry let loose a guttural cry and wiped a tear off of his face. Eleanor, utterly distraught, refused to believe it,”No, this cannot be, I must see him for myself.”
…
Tragically despite the vehemency of her denial, it did little to change the stark reality of what she saw before her in the nursery. Her son was dead, his little chest unmoving. He looked so peaceful, like the tranquil babe he always had been, and no doubt suffered little when his time had come. This was no consolation for Eleanor though, and she hugged her husband tight as she wailed, it was clear to all that a mother’s heart was breaking”Oh Henry, not our son. Our poor little boy!”
