#meanwhile he was on the Tudors

[historyartthings]

Cromwell?? Actually styled in colour???? Not black???

[spending-life-pretending]

started reading the lymond chronicles and I truly have no idea what’s going on but I do like the funny words this guy is speaking to me

[wonder-worker]

“Edward IV was never the sole, undoubted representative of the kingship before I47I. The crowned, anointed and, most important, de facto king of nearly forty years standing, was still alive, never abdicated and was never deposed; he was free until I465 and safe thereafter so long as his heir was beyond Edward's reach ... Barnet, Tewkesbury and the prompt murder of Henry VI, the moment it was safe to do so, alone changed all this and secured Edward's de facto kingship at last. The 'first reign' was in fact the road to the throne.”

- B.P Wolffe, review of “Edward IV” by Charles Ross

[llyfrenfys]

PLEASE TELL US ABOUT Y DDRAIG TRAWS!

Certainly! I'm more than happy to oblige.

First though I'm gonna need to tldr: the history of Y Ddraig Goch before we get onto the (accidentally) canonically trans part.

A brief history of Y Ddraig Goch:

(The modern Welsh flag)

Y Ddraig Goch first appears in the tales of the Mabinogi (Charlotte Guest version) in the tale of Lludd and Llefelys where it is fighting a white dragon. The fight is also described/expanded upon in the c. 829 AD text Historia Brittonum (attributed to Nennius) - where the red dragon represents Wales and the white dragon represents the Anglo-Saxons. In the story the red dragon triumphs over the white. Of course, Geoffrey of Monmouth also covers the story c. 1136 in Historia Regnum Brittaniae in which he introduces the concept of the red dragon heralding the arrival of King Arthur.

Geoffrey of Monmouth claims Arthur used a banner featuring a golden dragon. But we also know the accuracy of Monmouth can be questionable at times. Owain Glyndŵr did use a banner with a golden dragon called Y Ddraig Aur - raised in 1401 at Caernarfon - Glyndŵr chose this banner as a nod to the supposed banner of Arthur and his father.

Later on the Tudor monarchs (being a Welsh family) adopted a red dragon on a white and green background in their heraldry. Eventually Y Ddraig Goch on a white and green background became the official badge of Wales in 1800. The design became the official flag of Wales in 1959.

Y Ddraig Traws:

Now for the thing you're all here for -

So, as outlined, the history of the dragon as a national symbol of Wales goes back a long way. If we're just talking post-1959, there's some interesting implications for Y Ddraig Goch's depiction.

This is what the Welsh flag (and Y Ddraig Goch) looked like in 1959 when it was officially adopted as the flag of Wales. It looks broadly the same as the first flag and has some common features - such as not having a penis (or, as in the correct heraldic terminology - a pizzle). Meanwhile, in the arms of the Tudors (specifically Henry VII)

(Tudor dragon with pizzle) vs (dragon on the flag of Cardiff - pizzleless)

the penis is almost always included. So much to the point that the present royal family still includes the penis. While pretty much 0 depictions of the dragon in Wales include a penis. So you could interpret this as the dragon is seen as male only by the British royal family and as female everywhere else (which kinda implies that at some point the Tudor dragon had an mtf transition in Wales and she keeps getting misgendered by the royal family every time she is depicted in (mostly) England).

So much to the point that in 1995 this pound coin was made by the Royal Mint featuring the pizzle on the dragon with all four feet touching the ground as opposed to standing up (passant rather than rampant).

But in Wales you'd be hard pressed to see a pizzled dragon anywhere. Ergo, we can only conclude Y Ddraig Goch is trans and she transitioned in Wales and keeps getting misgendered in England.

[note: This is mostly tongue in cheek - but I do think it's fun to extrapolate that the Welsh dragon is trans because of the differences in depiction between Wales and England. Like many things Welsh, it is misrepresented by England and the idea of the Welsh dragon being misgendered only in England is, I think, a good metaphor for a whole lot of English treatment of Wales.]

Unrelatedly, there is a gay Welsh flag held at the National Museum of Wales which has a very wonky dragon which I find very endearing.

(cleaned up version I made)

So much so I made it an emoji in my Welsh bilingual LGBTQIA+ Discord (requirements for joining are - be 16+, either speak or are learning Welsh and identify as LGBTQIA+ in some way. Dm for link!).

(triaist ti 'you tried' emoji)

~ Completely unrelatedly ~ never forget the time someone was trying to homophobic to me by suggesting that I was disrespecting all the soldiers who died 'for the Welsh flag' by making it rainbow colours and not red - arguing that any change of colour of the dragon was disrespectful. Reader, my bus pass at the time for Mid Wales Travel had a purple dragon on it.

[gulnarsultan]

Hii, i have a writing request about the tudors :) Reader is henry 8’s first n true love but couldn’t marry that time cuz of family. He meets the reader again after Anne’s execution n break up with Jane to marry the reader who is now a widow with a small child. Reader is horrified and disgusted at how he treated his wives n fears for her life, she no longer wants to be near the man she once wholeheartedly loved. Henry tries to win back her love n remind her of the time they were deeply in love but she refuses. He desperately tries to reassure he would never treat her like her predecessors, he can’t even imagine hurting her. Reader’s child is scared of him too n he tries to win over the child to win back readers love and trust. He wants reader to marry him out of love not fear

Hello darling. I love writing about the Tudors. Thank you for sharing this beautiful idea with me. I hope you like it. 💫

"Scenario"

The love between Henry and the reader goes back to their childhood. They both always promise each other that they will get married when they grow up. However, the changes brought by fate cause this promise to be broken. Years pass, Henry's three daughters marry. Meanwhile, the reader had been married once and became the mother of a son. However, her husband died years ago. After his third divorce, Henry turns to his first and only love, the reader. He wants to marry the reader and make your reader Queen. But now the reader is disgusted and afraid of the man she fell in love with years ago. Frankly, it is not surprising that he is afraid. Henry's first move is to try to gain the boy's approval. Because the child is also afraid of Henry. After a few months, Henry finally gains the boy's trust and approval. But the reader is very insistent on not getting married. However, Henry is not a man who will give up easily. There are a few alternatives for the ending of the scenario. (In my opinion.)

1.Henry really gets the reader's approval.

Henry forces his reader to get married.

Henry respects the reader's decision. He keeps his love in his heart. It leaves your reader alone.

[queer-ragnelle]

Camelot (2011) | Created by Michael Hirst & Chris Chibnall

Arthurian Film List | Arthurian Show List | Movie review below the cut ⤦

Star Rating: 10/10

Content Warning: graphic nudity & sexuality, heavy gore, torture, rape

Overview: Full disclosure, I'm hella biased. I watched this every week while it aired back in 2011. But having re-watched the series again numerous times since then, I stand by my love for it. If there was anything I would add, it would be dogs. Where are the puppies?! The costume designer for this show went on to win awards for her work on The Tudors, all the acting is prenominal, the set designs, the score and sound design, the writing is just insanely good. Even when I don't agree with all narrative choices, I'm convinced to appreciate them here. Eva Green is by far my favorite Morgan and James Purefoy my favorite Lot. I wasn't born queer, their intense sex scenes with blood oaths and body hair queerified me. Who said that. Anyway the biggest thing to praise about this show is how abundantly and well it centers women's stories. Igraine, Guinevere, Morgan, Vivian, Sebile, Bridget. You're all really amazing. I support women's rights and women's wrongs.

Synopsis: Morgan returns from her many years at the nunnery and is immediately rejected by Uther and her step mother Igraine. She vows vengeance and returns to the castle later in the guise of a child to secretly poison the king. As Uther lays dying, Merlin gets him to sign over his kingship to the son he never met. The show then transitions to Arthur, who has been raised along side foster-brother Kay by their loving parents in ignorance they are not fully brothers. Merlin shows up and spills the beans, taking Arthur and Kay with him to Camelot, an old crumbling castle they need to rebuild as the center of a great city. There, Uther's old knights, including Lancelot Leontes and his fiancée Guinevere, wait for them. Meanwhile Morgan turns castle Pendragon inside out to remake it for her own liking, including bringing on Vivian as her messenger and handmaiden, and Sebile the nun as her advisor. She also allies herself with King Lot intending to claim the throne of Britain for herself. Morgan and Arthur must battle for the right to take their father King Uther's place.

Final Thoughts: This show really has it all. It's a tragedy it was cancelled after a single season. There was so much set up that will never get pay off. I cry every day. The homoeroticism between Kay and Gawain going unfulfilled haunts me. Read Exiled From Camelot by Cherith Baldry to get your fix but damn I'm so sad we didn't see more of them in a second season. HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING but it set up that Guinevere was pregnant with Galahad and would take the bloody seat of the Round Table where Leontes was meant to sit, meanwhile Morgan was pregnant with Mordred in a last bid for power after she was finally revealed to Arthur as a threat. GO WATCH!!!!!!!

[gingersnaptaff]

Nest of Deheubarth and Gwenllian ferch Gruffudd ap Cynan

Lemme talk about two fabulous Welsh women who deserve to be yelled about more because they occupy fascinating roles in Welsh history and also they were SISTERS-IN-LAW. If they'd met I do think they would have a very Morgan Le Fay and Guinevere relationship (without the casual murder? Hmm.)

Anyways, Nest of Deheubarth (Also known as Nesta, or Annest, was the 'Helen of Wales,' which, seriously, we gotta stop appellating Helen of Troy to women whose beauty starts wars. It is a handy metric, but, like, neither were THEIR FAULT.) daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr - yes, as in the Tudors. They have links to them through Rhys' son, Gruffudd - and Gwladys ferch Rhiwallon ap Cynfyn of Powys. (Said it before will say it again intermarriage between Gwynedd, Deheubarth, and Powys is super common.)

(This is Nest with Henry II. Note how they both have crowns on in bed. Like, I know it's to telegraph they're royal but like imagine them kissing. *clang* sorry, my crown keeps slipping off my head *clang* sŵs.)

Anyways, born in about 1085 (give or take) Nest was Princess of Deheubarth. Normally, this would entail being married to another Welsh royal family - and possibly your cousin, yeesh - but, sadly (or happily depending on your view) this was not to be the case for Nest.

Her father, Rhys, was King of Deheubarth until 1093. Deheubarth had largely been left untouched by the Normans thanks to a peacy treaty brokered by Rhys and thr King of England William Rufus but, sadly, Henry I soon put a stop to that after his brother, William Rufus' death. (For those wondering he got shot in an arrow in the New Forest. Some say Henry did it so he could assume the throne)

Rhys perished in battle at Breacon against Bernard de Neufmarche's forces, with him being beheaded at Penrhys in Rhondda Cynon Taf (Penrhys literally means Rhys' head.) Brut Y Tywysogion records: 'Rhys ap Tewdwr, king of Deheubarth, was slain by the Frenchmen who were inhabiting Brycheiniog, and with him fell the kingdom of the Britons' His death allowed the Normans to take Deheubarth unopposed and they wouldn't even begin to break their yoke until Gwenllian.

Anyways, Nest, her mother, her half-brothers, and her sisters were captured by the Normans once they'd murdered Rhys and were sent to either prison or the Anglo-Norman court to live as hostages to prevent any further rebellions. Meanwhile, Nest's younger brother, Gruffydd, was spirited away to Ireland (more about him later!).

But even there Nest wouldn't exactly be allowed to fly under the radar. She grew into a beauty - don't all captured foreign historical women, honestly? Like, grim - and caught the eye of Henry I, becoming his mistress, bearing him a son -- also called Henry* as it goes. See, having the same name as your dad is just a Welsh trait, ngl.

Soon after, in around about 1102 but possibly later, and once Henry I had dealt with some rebellions from his subjects (namely Robert de Bellême) he married Nest off to Gerald FitzWalter who was the constable of Pembroke Castle, purely cuz he sided with him. Nest's feelings are not recorded in history, but I'd imagine she was both delighted to be going home to Wales and distraught that she was married to a Norman lord who'd had a hand in subjugating her country.

Either way, with her marriage to Gerald she was both seen as a Norman - as were her sons, collectively known as the Geraldines, famous for subjugating Ireland, and nephew, Gerald of Wales - and as a figurehead for Welsh resistance.

And it's this that gives her the claim for being the Helen of Wales. Now, various reports of how shit went down are given but the facts are thus: in either 1106 or 1109 her cousin, Owain ap Cadwgan, Prince of Powys, kidnapped Nest and her sons. Gerald escaped either by escaping down the latrine (smelly toilet pit) or fighting his way out. Some say this was during an Eisteddfod given by Owain's dad, some say this was at Cilgerran Castle, a Norman castle that Gerald had built. Idk. Either way, she was once again, a hostage. Kari L. Maude says Owain was 'overcome by her [Nest's] charm,' but, equally, he could've been making a point of raiding the castle to spite a Norman and carrying off his cousin to try and force the Welsh to rebel. 'What is clear,' Maund further writes, 'Is that Owain was engaged on a consistent campaign against the Norman colonies in Wales.'

(OR, Nest had engineered the whole affair deliberately cuz she and Owain were lovers. There is talk that Owain was gonna be betrothed to Nest before everything that occurred but that is spurious speculation so idk. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.)

ANYWAYS. The earliest account of this shenaniganery we have is by Caradoc of Llancarfan which relates that: 'At the instigation of the Devil, he [Owain] was moved by passion and love for the woman, and with a small company with him...he made for the castle by night.' Once he'd done this he took Nest and her kids to a hunting lodge by the Eglwyseg Rocks north of Llangollen, presumably to live in what he thought was relative peace.

Hoo boi, he was WRONG. The abduction of Nest, done with her consent or not, aroused the wrath of both the Normans (for obvious reasons those HEIRS ARE NORMAN-BLOODED GIVE THE SONS BACK) and the Welsh (I guess because this was seen as a Welshman abducting a Princess of Deheubarth? Unsure.) Either way, the Normans bribed Owain's Welsh enemies to attack him which they did. (Pls remember that the Powysians hated Deheubarthians and Gwyddelians hated them both ect, etc.)

Owain's dad throughout all of this desperately tried to persuade his son to give Nest back ('Pls, pls, pls, Owain, your himbo arse has gotten us into SO MUCH SHIT!' I can imagine him saying. This does, however, ignore the fact that Cadwgan himself was sanctioning his son's raids.) With Owain just brushing him off. Nest, once again, saves a man's life and entreats Owain: 'If you would have me stay with you and be faithful to you, then send my children home to their father.'

Owain did so, but before long, both he and his dad were then obliged to seek safety in Ireland lest further attacks were made on them. Nest was also returned to her husband. Whether willingly or not idk but yeah.

Now, by this time (1112), her brother Gruffudd had returned from his sojourn in Ireland and was trying to drum up support to get Deheubarth back under his rule, particularly with the aid of the King of Gwynedd, Gruffudd ap Cynan, who would ultimately become Gruffydd's father-in-law when Gruffydd married his daughter, Gwenllian 🥳🥳🥳. It's interesting to imagine that Nest was giving her brother a hand in this but we have no textual support to say so. Tbf, perhaps she did and she was just so good at doing it that it's just remained undetected for hundreds of years. 🤷🏻‍♀️

War broke out between Gruffydd and the Normans. Gruffydd, expecting to have his inheritance given to him and no liking to hear the word 'NO' yelled at him Henry I with a fuckin megaphone, fuckin burned Carmarthen and then destroyed Arberth in 1115, alongside 'members of the younger nobility'. (As he should, in all honesty.)

Owain ap Cadwgan who had, by this time, tootled back from Ireland, been PARDONED BY THE KING (Henry I, that is.), and became prince of Powys after his dad was ASSASSINATED (Assassin's Creed: Powys edition when?) Obliged by Henry I to rendezvous with a Norman force to proceed against Gruffydd, Owain found himself meeting up with Nest's husband, Gerald.

( Sjdjxjxjddkxj Could not make that up. Sounds like a Hollyoaks episode.)

Gerald, wanting to fuckin Murk Owain for what he did to his kids and wife, proceeded to Murk Owain. I do honestly feel like Gerald also thought 'If he kills my bro-in-law my wife will fuckin KILL ME.' so I respect this for being In Fear of his wife.

Gerald himself died in 1135, yet Nest delightfully, was still going. She married Robert FitzStephen, having another kid to the five she'd already had with Gerald, including the mother of my arch-nemesis Gerald of Wales, Angharad.

It isn't known when she died but it's estimated that it was about 1135/1136, thus allowing her to see the start of her brother and sister-in-law's rebellion that would eventually put the land that the Normans had so cruelly taken from the back into the hands of their family.

A note:

*Henry would later be killed in Ynys Môn during a battle against Nest's brother-in-law Owain Gwynedd, coincidently led by Owain's son - and my fuckin pookie - Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd. Apparently, again according to the Brut, Henry died 'by a shower of lances.'

Up next: Gwenllian!!!!!!!

Sadly we have no drawings of Gwenllian, but that's okay cuz artists are more than up to the challenge. Also, idk why but the fact that she has red hair is generally accepted even though we don't know how she looked. I guess it's because bravery is telegraphed as red, or at least fieryness which, ngl, she defo was.

Born in about 1097, Gwenllian was the daughter of the King of Gwynedd, Gruffudd ap Cynan, and his wife, Angharad ferch Owain.

Gwynedd, at this time, was perhaps the most stable of the Welsh kingdoms, although Gruffudd ap Cynan HAD had to battle like fuck to free Gwynedd from the Normans before he could even sit on the throne. (He got thrown in Chester for a time and had to be rescued by a very tall man called Cynwrig. Will do a post on him because he's FUN) so rebellion is very much in Gwenllian's blood. We don't know much about her childhood although we can assume it was happy and filled with the various activities of a Welsh Princess.

Still, that would soon shift.

Gwenllian, at around about thirteen /fourteen or so (remember girls became women when they reached 14 under Welsh law), soon became involved with Gruffydd ap Rhys after her father hosted him when Gruffydd was hoping to summon up aid for his Getting Rid of the Normans scheme.

Unfortunately for Gruffydd - who I will now call Griff so as not to confuse with Gruffudd ap Cynan - this place at the Gwyddelian court became tenuous. Gruffudd ap Cynan, unwilling to further inflame tensions with the Normans after he'd just recovered Ynys Môn (Anglesey) from them and now ruled kinda peacefully, elected to hand Griff over to them. Somehow - probably through Gruffudd ap Cynan's nobles - news of this rescued Griff and he once again left for Deheubarth.

Only he wouldn't travel alone.

Gwenllian, unwilling to let the man she loved slip away, eloped with him and became his wife. They soon became 'the Robin Hood's of Wales' as Philip Warner writes and set about killing the Normans. Griff, emboldened by his and his wife's success hastened to meet with his father-in-law, Gruffudd ap Cynan, in an effort to get troops.

So, Gwenllian was left to helm her husband's forces by herself. To be fair to her SHE DID. AND honestly, this is why she's compared to 'Buddug' or Bouddica. Normans led raids a just as she and Griff had done against them- and she was compelled to rise an army for Deheubarth's defense.

The Great Revolt of 1136, as it was known, was to be Gwenllian's last conflict for she and two of her sons, Maredudd and Maelwgyn were beheaded by the Normans after their forces were routed at Cydweli Castle. Yet Gwenllian would not be forgotten. Her youngest son, the Lord Rhys, would become Prince of Deheubarth and recover much of the territory that had once been their family's. And Nest? Well, Griff had sent time in her and Gerald's castles as he went about letting how to get Dejeubarth back. It's tempting to think that she and Gwenllian met.

Also, Dr Andrew Breeze HAS argued that Gwenllian is the author of the Mabinogi because much of the action takes place in Gwynedd and Deheubarth where Gwenllian was based. Might it have been a tract to inspire people to rebellion? Or for women to know their worth? It's tempting but we'll never know. We can only guess. All we can say is 'Dial Achos Gwenllian!'

(That's Revenge for Gwenllian btw. Long may she reign, as it were.)

[heather123fan-blog]

My Lady Jane 2024

I just finished episode 1 of My Lady Jane with my mom. I usually can't get her to watch Tudor historical dramas with me and she thought this one was pretty bizarre. I'm loving it so far though. It's an action-packed adventure. Love the fantasy setting! The actor playing Guildford Dudley is adorable. Edward Bluemel looks so much like Jacob Avery who portrayed him in Becoming Elizabeth. He's getting the hot, sexy, romantic male hero treatment. Meanwhile, Jane Grey is the sassy, book smart, rebellious princess. I'm just crushed Robert hasn't appeared yet.

[lehdenlaulu]

Leverage 3x12

...I may have just image-searched the stock footage to make sure that really is the Logan International Airport. I have trust issues after the whole "Moscow as Kyiv" thing, okay? 😜

Okay, jumping back into the main plot, I see.

Looking good, boys!

...I wonder what would happen if Eliot actually had to fly a passenger plane.

Those identical maintenance overalls sure are handy, eh?

Would be funny if they never even changed the name tags.

Polyglot Eliot and Friend To All Children Eliot at the same time? I feel spoiled. 🥰

Arabic, I think?

I already hate this guy.

Hah, the young couple snoozing on the sofa is a nice touch.

Wow, Sophie's taking this personally. Huh.

Gotta love it when British swearing flies under the radar, but oh dearie me, what a scandal if someone says 'fuck'. 😆

Or imagine if someone just said 'jerkoff' instead of 'wanker'.

Whoo, change of scenery!

"Possibly steam-powered, which would be cool." ILY Hardison.

But yeah, that's like... Windows 3.1.? Sheesh.

Yeah, I don't think "believing in tradition" explains using ~25-year-old OS...

Ooh, Parker looks cute.

ILU Parker, never change.

We're also getting quite a lot of cleavage from her, I see. 👀

Nate, do I even want to know what you're up to now?

Oh Hardison.

Cromwell! That's Cromwell from Tudors! That's why he was so familiar.

Huh, interesting.

I see Hardison decided to balance out Parker's cleavage. I don't mind. 🤭

Meanwhile, Eliot's dressed like he's trucking across Canada. 😂

Again?? What am I forgetting?

Also, I'm way too ill for the constantly spinning arc shot.

Aaand Sophie joined Team Cleavage!

Huh, that's cool. I need to look into that.

Poor Hardison. You can do it, though, don't worry.

Shut up, Nate.

Hmm, I may not be super well-versed in British royalty, but wasn't George III famous for not having a mistress, ever? Or wait, is this George IV?

Okay, okay, I know. Whatever. This is AU. We'll roll with it. This is a pretty cool plot.

Oh boys. 😆 Hmm, has he called Eliot 'E' before? I don't think so? But Eliot doesn't seem to mind.

Oh Hardison, even if your boos don't appreciate your impressive work, I do. ❤

Shut up, Nate. I know you're not saying anything, but shut up.

Eliot 'Distinctive' Spencer strikes again!

Right, so that's what we're doing, eh? Ugh.

Poor Sophie.

Okay, Eliot, that was new. 👀

Yeah, fuck you dude.

Again Eliot saying something complimentary "sarcastically", aww.

Bless. ❤

Also, Parker's boots. 😍

This was fun. Nice change of scenery, more backstory for Sophie (whether she's really British aristocracy or not), and Hardison gained enough XP to add another class to his repertoire: forger. So, yeah, he'd totally be Artificer in D&D.

[fideidefenswhore]

it is funny that everytime you get to the thomas seymour part of any tudor biography every author is invariably is like oooo, thomas was so handsome and charming, all women found him sooooooo irresistible........meanwhile, real ones know that he proposed to mary howard fitzroy thrice and she rejected him...thrice <3

[dragoneyes618]

Curtains were not for windows, they were for beds. The owner of a curtained bed as  lucky indeed. A room within a room - warm, dark, and private -a four-poster, curtained and canopied bed was one of the most sought after and highly prized household items in Tudor times. After bequests of landholdings and cash, eds were often the very first thing upon the minds of those making their wills. Shakespeare's famous bequest of his second-best bed to his wife, Anne, is sometimes seen as a slight, a symbol of a broken relationship, but I doubt that Anne or anyone else in the family saw it like that. Although his best bed went to his married daughter, he made sure that his wife would be warm and comfortable in her later years.

Many people have spent a night in a four-poster bed at a hotel, and some may have one at home, but they are unlikely to have got the full benefit from it within a modern building. Think instead of a Tudor room, which would have been draughty even if there was glass in the window frame. Tudor houses rarey had corridors, and access to rooms was generally through other rooms, so people would wander through now and again, and servants and children would be asleep on other beds within the same room. Even within larger, wealthier homes, few people had a room to themselves. With no separate servants' quarters (that was a later architectural development), some of the largest houses had the most crowded bedrooms. A house's occupants were more likely to be divided according to sex rather than social class, with male children and servants in one room and female children and servants in another. You, meanwhile, are tucked up inside your own private tent of thick, usually woollen, curtains, which muffle the sounds of other people's snores, allow a fug of warmth to build overnight, and keep away prying eyes and ears.

- How To Be A Tudor, Ruth Goodman, pages 2-3

[scotianostra]

On May 28th 1503 a Papal Bull was signed by Pope Alexander VI confirming the marriage of King James IV and Margaret Tudor and the "Treaty of Everlasting Peace" between Scotland and England.

From an early age, Margaret was part of Henry VII’s negotiations for important marriages for his children and her betrothal to James IV of Scotland was made official by a treaty in 1502 even though discussions had been underway since 1496. Part of the delay was the wait for a papal dispensation because James’ great-grandmother was Joan Beaufort, sister of John Beaufort, who was the great-grandfather of Margaret Tudor. That made James IV and Margaret Tudor fourth cousins, which was within the prohibited degree. Patrick Hepburn, the Earl of Bothwell, acted as a proxy for James IV of Scotland for his betrothal to Margaret Tudor at Richmond in January 1502 before the couple was married in person.

James was dashing, accomplished, highly intelligent and interested in everything, James IV of Scots enjoyed himself with mistresses while manoeuvring to secure a politically useful bride, so the marriage was not just an "English thing".

Our King was 30, his bride was what has been described as "a dumpy 13 year old".

I'll dip into the "newspaper" of the day in Grafton's chronicle the following was written....

"Thus this fair lady was conveyed with a great company of lords, ladies, knights, esquires and gentlemen until she came to Berwick and from there to a village called Lambton Kirk in Scotland where the king with the flower of Scotland was ready to receive her, to whom the earl of Northumberland according to his commission delivered her." he went on "Then this lady was taken to the town of Edinburgh, and there the day after King James IV in the presence of all his nobility married the said princess, and feasted the English lords, and showed them jousts and other pastimes, very honourably, after the fashion of this rude country. When all things were done and finished according to their commission the earl of Surrey with all the English lords and ladies returned to their country, giving more praise to the manhood than to the good manner and nature of Scotland."

Not exactly flattering words!

The wedding finally took place for real (after several proxy marriages) on 8 August, 1503 at Holyrood House in Edinburgh. Margaret was officially crowned Queen in March 1504. The Scottish poet William Dunbar wrote several poems to Margaret around this time, including “The Thistle and the Rose”, “To Princess Margaret on her Arrival at Holyrood”

Now fayre, fayrest of every fayre,

Princes most plesant and preclare,

The lustyest one alyve that byne,

Welcum of Scotlond to be Quene!

Margaret was apparently homesick and not happy in her early days in Scotland, but the couple settled down to married life, there first child, James was born four years later, he died within the year, their second, a daughter fared little better she never survived a day. In 1309 another son only lived to be nine months old, such was the difficulties of trying to produce and heir, it's a wonder the human race survived, what with mortality rates being so high in the nobility, one only wonders how high it would have been for the ordinary citizen of Scotland?

Meanwhile Margarets father passed away and Henry VIII took the throne.

Margaret’s next child was born on April 11, 1512 at Linlithgow and named James. He survived childhood and was to become King James V and father of Mary.

As for "Treaty of Everlasting Peace" it lasted around 10 years, in the first few years of Henry VIII’s reign, the relations with Scotland became strained, and it eventually erupt in 1513, when Henry VIII went to France to wage war, this invoked The Auld Alliance and James IV, Henry VIII's brother-in-law marched his army into England only to be disastrously cut down on September 9th at Flodden Field, with too many of our Scottish Knights to count. The Queen gave birth to another son, Alexander the following April, but things would turn sour for her.

Margaret, then regent, remarried into the powerful Douglas family, the Scottish Parliament then removed her as Regent a pregnant Margaret fled Scotland in 1515, her sons were taken from her before she left. She was given lodgings by her brother at Harbottle Castle, where she gave birth to daughter, Margaret Douglas, who herself played a big part in Scottish history, becoming mother to Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley.

That wasn't the last we had seen of Margaret Tudor though, she returned to Scotland with a promise of safe conduct in 1517 but her marriage to Douglas was a disaster, he had taken a mistress while she was in England.

In 1524 Margaret, in alliance with the Earl of Arran, overthrew Albany's regency and her son was invested with his full royal authority. James V was still only 12, so Margaret was finally able to guide her son's government, but only for a short time since her husband, Archibald Douglas, came back on the scene and took control of the King and the government from 1525 to 1528. This would all come back to bite the ambitious Douglas family in the bum

In March 1527, Margaret was finally able to attain an annulment of her marriage to Angus from Pope Clement VII and by the next April she had married Henry Stewart, who had previously been her treasurer. Margaret's second husband then arrested her third husband on the grounds that he had married the Queen without approval. The situation was improved when James V was able to proclaim his majority as king (he was 16 at the time) and remove Angus and his family from power. James created his new stepfather Lord Methven and the Scottish parliament proclaimed Angus and his followers traitors. However, Angus had escaped to England and remained there until after James V's death.

Margaret's relationship with her son was relatively good, although she pushed for closer relations with England, where James preferred an alliance with France. In this, James won out and was married to Princess Madeleine, daughter of the King of France, in January 1537. The marriage did not last long because Madeleine died in July and was buried at Holyrood Abbey. After his first wife's death, James sought another bride from France, this time taking Marie de Guise (eldest child of the Claude, Duc de Guise) as a bride. By this same time, Margaret's own marriage had followed a path similar to her second one when Methven took a mistress and lived off his wife's money.

On October 18th 1541, Margaret Tudor died in Methven Castl. probably from a stroke. Margaret was buried at the Carthusian Abbey of St. John’s in Perth. Although Margaret's heirs were left out of the succession by Henry VIII and Edward VI, ultimately it would be Margaret's great-grandson James VI who would become king after the death of Elizabeth.

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

19th July - Mary organises her army

After hearing of the Earl of Oxford's defection, Mary sends him a letter of thanks, with a commission to "make provisions for six days victualing and come through with a speed." 1 She also orders six days worth of food from Great Yarmouth 2, and 300 quarters of malt to be brewed in Ipswich 3.

Due to lack of money she cannot afford to pay all the wages for soldiers in her growing army, but orders "where captains in every band shall perceive any soldier lacking money, his captain shall relieve him with so much as his discretion shall think good, but in such sort that it appears not otherwise but to be of his own liberality." 4

Her army is slowly growing more disciplined under the instruction of the Earl of Sussex, but they need more bows and arrows. Mary and her council send to Norwich for them, promising the city "shall receive money presently" 5 for them.

After hearing the army is ready and eager to do battle, Mary sets a day "when she would come from the castle to view and muster her army, and gratify her soldiers, who deserved so well of her, with her presence. Consequently at the queen's command issued through a trumpeter, 20th July was assigned for the inspection." 6

Meanwhile...

Henry Neville, Lord Abergavenny and Sir Thomas Wyatt (of Wyatt's rebellion) write to the gentlemen of Sussex, requiring them to proclaim Mary queen and denouncing "the lady Jane, a queen of a new and pretty invention." 7

Jane Grey acts as godmother to Edward Underhill's child, a son named Guildford in honour of her husband. 8

The Privy Council meet in private and agree to proclaim Mary queen. 9

The Imperial ambassadors are visited by the Earl of Shrewsbury and John Mason from the Privy Council. They inform them that "Though it had been said that the late King Edward's devise touching the succession had received the assent of the Council, only three or four of them had given their willing consent, and the rest had been compelled and treated almost as if they were prisoners." 10 They reveal they are planning to proclaim Mary queen.

Around 4pm, Mary is proclaimed Queen of England, France and Ireland around London. 11

When the Duke of Suffolk hears what the Council have done, he "went to the Lady Jane, who was at supper, and tore down the canopy, saying no more than that it was not for her to use it, for her position permitted her not to do so. When the Lady Jane heard of the Council's determination, she replied that she would give it up as gladly as she had accepted it; she knew that the right belonged to Queen Mary." 12 The Duke then rushes to proclaim her himself on Tower Hill. 13

At nightfall, Northumberland retreats back to Cambridge. 14

Sources:

1. Acts of the Privy Council, Vol 4

2. Acts of the Privy Council, Vol 4

3. Acts of the Privy Council, Vol 4

4. Acts of the Privy Council, Vol 4

5. Acts of the Privy Council, Vol 4

6. Vita Mariae Angliae Reginae of Robert Wingfield

7. A Guide to the Manuscripts in the Grenville Library

8. Tudor Tracts

9. Spanish State Papers, 19th July 1553

10. Spanish State Papers, 19th July 1553

11. Spanish State Papers, 19th July 1553

12. Spanish State Papers, 22nd July 1553

13. Chronicle of Queen Jane and Mary

14. Vita Mariae Angliae Reginae of Robert Wingfield

[idiotwithanipad]

OC Hot Take: Humphrey occasionally forgets that Amy (My OC) is NOT related to him by blood and sometimes remarks on how similar she is to his former wife, Sophie.

The Tudor will laugh along with something Amy is doing/saying and say something along the lines of:

“Your Mum would’ve scowled at me for laughing at that”

“You’re just like your mother sometimes, you are”

One of Amy’s biggest flaws is being overly judgmental when she first meets anybody, and she has a tendency to scowl a lot when in an uncomfortable setting or situation. Often prompting Humphrey to recall when he and Sophie would be dragged downstairs to attend events or situations neither of them really wanted anything to do with.

Humphrey would just smile through the pain, but not Sophie; her face would be as stale and as rock solid as steel. Causing the Tudor to make connections, pinpointing little details similar between the woman and the girl.

Meanwhile, Amy has no clue what he’s on about…

[gulnarsultan]

hiiii can you do yandere henry viii headcannons where the reader has the look of daenerys targeryan but is a peasant please ?  like she hides her hair and he finds her by a lake where she lets them out or the reader saves anna boleyn and henry falls in love with her.  NSFW AT THE END PLEASE

Perhaps reader is truly a Targaryen. She came to the Tudor universe by accident. Or Targaryen was the reader's descendant. Most likely the reader is Edward's mother.

"Scenario."

Reader always hides her beauty. Because she doesn't want to get himself into unnecessary trouble. Meanwhile, Henry notices the cabin while walking through the woods for a tour. He notices the reader when he pauses to catch his breath. By this time, Henry and Anna were already in bad shape. Henry's heart and mind go wild when he sees the reader's silver hair, violet eyes, and pale skin. He immediately takes the decision to take her reader to the Palace. But first it has to get the reader on. The reader becomes uneasy when Henry enters the garden.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

"What do you want from me, your majesty?"

Henry gets very close to the reader. He takes a lock of the reader's silver hair and brings it to his lips.

"To be mine."

"What if I don't accept it."

"Honey, I'm not a very patient man. Besides, you should accept this offer for everything you care about."

"Ok."

This obedient attitude of the reader pleases Henry. He begins to eagerly kiss the reader's lips. The reader gives a kiss to Herynin's kiss, causing a kissing session. He strokes the reader's body with his hands. The reader's face turns red with embarrassment. He carries the reader to the bed inside the hut and lays him down. He takes off his clothes and that of the reader. He plays with the reader's breasts as their lips meet once again. He massages the breasts and bites, sucks, squeezes and tugs at the nipples. The reader can only whine. Henry's hand goes between the reader's legs.

"You're wet for me."

One hand makes fun of the reader's clistoris, while the fingers of the other hand pump the reader's cunt. The reader ejaculates on Henry's fingers. Henry rubs his hardened penis against the wet lips of the reader's cunt. Henry bangs the reader's pussy in a fast rhythm. When they both reach orgasm, Henry ejaculates deep in the reader's cunt. He hugs the reader and rests. He will take the reader to the Palace and make him his mistress. After the divorce with Anne, he will marry the reader.

[rosesnink]

For Love And Duty, Chapter Four: The King's Consent

Author's Notes

Guess who's back!! Back again!! I have honestly missed writing this particular series, for the Tudor era always gives me brainrot. Something tells me Eleanor's story will have my undivided attention... Meanwhile, enjoy!!

Summary: Eleanor, now engaged, travels to London to ask for King Henry's permission to marry. Such a journey will make her experience feelings she thought would never experience...

Word Count: 4.1k

Category: Fluff, there was only one bed, arranged marriage

Pairing: Mr. Sinclaire x F!OC (Eleanor Foredale)

Rating: PG-13

Book: Desire and Decorum (AU)

A week later…

The whole house was a complete, utter mess.

Servants ran left and right, panicking and running away from the barks of the countess and the dowager, some even breaking into tears. The reason? Lady Eleanor and Ser Sinclaire would travel to court in London for a few days to ask for the king to bless and consent to the union. The dowager would accompany them, for her already married step-grandson Edmund would be hosting his little sister.

“No, this simply won’t do!” The dowager exclaimed as she looked through different kirtles that’d match Eleanor’s turquoise gown.

“Stupid girl! Do you want my son to starve?! Go on, go fetch more food, now!” The countess roared.

Both Miss Daly and Eleanor watched in horror as the house was turned down. Her father had escaped alongside Harry to an impromptu hunt. Lucky them!

Eleanor could only sit still as her Lady Grandmother and three ladies oversaw her luggage “Must you really pack half my wardrobe, Lady Grandmother? We’ll be there for five days.”

Dominique looked severely at her granddaughter “This is no mere visit, Eleanor! This is the visit we’ve been preparing you since you were a few weeks’ old! You must look perfect at all times, dear. You’ll be under royal scrutiny, as well as your fiancé! Every bone of yours needs to be poised and elegant, your manners, impeccable, and your gowns should be nothing less than flawless, and your smile no less than enchanting and lovely.”

“No pressure, El,” Briar whispered. Eleanor sighed.

She took her grandmother’s hands in hers and mimicked so she’d breathe “I know what this means to you. You yourself were friends with Queen Elizabeth Woodville, and now in cordial terms with her daughter the queen. And I promise I shall do you proud. You’ve prepared me for this moment all my life. Trust your own education, and my qualities of being a good pupil.”

Dominique took a deep breath “I gave you away to the best house for this for all your childhood. And although your father did not do well in bringing you back for your engagement, I’m sure that all these years shall not be in vain.”

“It won’t, Lady Grandmother. In fact, I was thinking of wearing a red wine dress, since it’s the house’s colour.”

“Ooh, I know which dress will be perfect!” Briar squealed before disappearing into the wardrobe. Then, she came back with a beautiful wine red gown with a white kirtle, the neckline with rich pearls and rubies, an equally white front skirt, matched with fore-sleeves, the stomacher having the Tudor rose and a red crepine, with discreet billaments and a long veil. The dowager gave her her favourite necklace, bodice jewellery, a white girdle and the Edgewater ring.

Having tried that, they took off the dress and put instead a riding gown, for she’d be riding with her fiancé, only escorted by Miss Daly, meaning that she’d be alone with him, dozing off in purpose of having some intimacy.

She wore the Edgewater royal blue and her coif had embroidered decorations of the Sinclaire emblem: an eagle with a stock of books in its side. He curtsied deeply to her and kissed her hand “My lady. As usual, you look simply magnificent.”

“Thank you, sir. You also look quite dapper.”

His ears turned pink before he nodded and offered his hand to get into the carriage. This’d be an interesting ride indeed.

An hour ahead and a few kilometres away from Kent, Mr. Sinclaire cleared his throat “I must confess, I am a bit nervous meeting the king. We’ll be appealing to be married, after all.”

“Yes, though… it had been agreed that we’d marry someday, did it not?”

“Well, yes and no.” Eleanor signalled for him to keep going “It was agreed that you’d marry someone of a decadent family in need of a fertile wife of the king’s men. My father had the luck to be among them.”

A small smile appeared on her lips “Lucky indeed.”

He looked away, abashed by the compliment and drummed his fingers against his leg, and then whispered “I hope I can be a worthy husband to you, Lady Eleanor.”

She nodded, a sad pang on her heart. How could she look into his eyes knowing she’d forsake him for another different life the moment nightfall came upon them? Shaking off such thoughts, she observed the English countryside, green and rugged, smelling like nature and sunlight. She closed her eyes, basking in such pleasure before they came into the murky, crowded and smelly London. Suddenly blinded by the sun, she looked back, and, for a moment, swore that Mr. Sinclaire was staring at her- After a few blinks, he was simply lost in his thoughts. She had imagined that, right?

Nightfall came, and having reached a small city residing a few kilometres away from London, they’d be staying in an inn for the night, each with their rooms. Mr. Sinclaire was talking to the innkeeper as Eleanor and Briar chatted away.

“There must be another way, sir…”

“Sorry, sir, we only have one available. One of you will have to share room with other travellers.”

“I can do that!” Briar cried. Eleanor looked at her with panic.

“Briar, what are you doing?!” She whispered.

The innkeeper shrugged “You aren’t the first married couple that sleeps together. Here, ma’am, the last room on the right.”

“Thank you,” she smirked before looking back to her friend, winking at her. Eleanor felt her chest flush. Mr. Sinclaire cleared his throat as they were taken to their rooms: indeed, it was big enough for one of them and had a nice view of the local market. Mr. Sinclaire distracted himself with stroking a fire as Eleanor surveyed the room. It was nice enough, and the bed was big enough.

Having started the fire, he looked back “You can have the bed, I’m good on the couch.”

“I cannot ask you to do that!”

“A lady should never sleep on the couch. Should you need anything, tell me. I, ah, shall leave you some privacy to change.”

Then, he left, probably to get a glass of wine. Figuring that Briar was out, she had realised with both excitement and horror one thing: her riding dress had been fitted tight and Eleanor did not have the skills to undress herself “Wait!” She called. He whipped his head and looked at her “Could you… help me with some garments? I… have never undressed myself, I’m afraid.”

His face turned impossibly red as he cleared his throat “O-Of course, my lady.” He shut the door tight and Eleanor turned around. His fingers, though nervous, were not clumsy as she expected. Taking off her headwear, her hair fell down well until her inner thighs, and she could swear he admired the long, blonde locks before pulling it aside to undo her expensive jewellery. He then undid her stomacher, his hands feeling warm and secure. Then, her fore-sleeves… her front skirt… her kirtle… her embroidered cuffs… and her outer petticoats. He could see the back of her shoulders, the nape of her neck and he felt incredibly warm. He whispered in her ear “It should be easy to take off your stockings. I shall go behind there,” he signalled a divan “and ready myself. Feel free to fetch some wine.”

She tried to ignore his warm breath on her earlobe or his husky voice, or the ghost of his hand on her back. She gulped and nodded, disappearing behind a wooden curtain. As she called the staff for some Spanish wine, God seemed to be testing her further, for she spotted a small mirror that drew his figure perfectly, and indeed, he had a striking figure.

He took off his blue doublet, then his ruffs, only his shirt and hose showing, drawing his statue-like figure, and she gulped. She pretended to be waiting for the wine as he noticed he was being stared at.

“You seem flushed. Shall I turn off the fire?”

She stuttered; all the years of polite conversation suddenly gone. Then, he simply did as he said and Eleanor was embarrassed and cold. Perhaps wine would warm her, and get such sinful thoughts away.

As the glasses and the wine came, she was thankful to have an excuse not to think about it. Or she thought so. The more she drank, the more sinful thoughts came in. Her hands ravishing his curves, her hand stopping at his heart, his hands stroking her long hair…

“Very well, uh, I shall turn in! G-good night, sir.”

She then tucked herself in and faced the other way, her heart going at a quick rate. She closed her eyes, but as the fire died out and he seemed to settle on the sofa, a strong thud called her attention: he was on the floor, his hand on his forehead and the sofa in half now. She gasped, running towards him “Good Lord, are you alright?!” Her hands checking if he was bleeding.

“I’m alright, my lady, the only thing hurt is my ego.”

She exhaled from the nose “I shall inform the innkeeper. You stay here. No, no, get into the bed, I shall fetch them.”

“Eleanor—,” before he could comment on how improper it’d be, she called out.

“Help! Someone come! The sofa broke and my fiancé fell!”

In a few seconds, the maid was here and observed the wreck. She gasped “Oh dear, are you alright sir? Are you hurt?” She then called two servant boys who quickly took out the broken sofa. Many guests observed with either curiosity or amusement, wondering how the man had broken a sofa. She tried to focus and, as the detritus was taken away, she turned to Mr. Sinclaire. She observed that he was fine and sighed “What happened?”

He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed “Ah, it seems I was too large for it.”

A few snickers could be heard, and despite her blush, she nodded “Well… it seems like we shall share the bed.”

“I’m fine on the floor—,”

“No,” she declared firmly “I shall not endanger you any longer. You will sleep with me so we both may make it safely to London.”

Realising what she had just said, her eyes went wide and looked away “Ah, by that, I mean—,”

“I—I get it, my lady,” the staff left, having cleared out the mess. Then, he murmured “I could never take such liberties with you, my lady.”

“They’re not liberties if I request them.”

She surprised herself with such daring words, and cleared again “That is, ah, for your wellbeing and good health in mind, of course.”

They both blushed and went onto the different corners of the bed, and lied as far away from the other as they could. Despite the respectful distance, she could smell his cologne: wood, wine and the linen from his clothes.

“Good night, my lady.”

“G-good night, sir.”

Each blowing out their candles, the room quieted with whirring tension. Neither of them seemed to sleep. Eleanor tried, but Mr. Sinclaire seemed on a quest to find the perfect position to sleep. She bit her tongue. A good wife was never complaining about the bed habits of her husband, despite not being technically wedded.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think of the feeling of his hands on her hair, or her clothes, how skilfully he took them off, his breath against her earlobe, how incredibly handsome he was even in his undergarments. Drifting off to sleep, she had been so tired by today’s happening that she did not notice how she moved to face the roof, or her hand laying on Mr. Sinclaire’s chest, or how cold the night turned.

Mr. Sinclaire had mixed feelings. He was both mortified and delighted out of Eleanor’s soft and warm touch. He had tried to sleep, but she seemed to move closer the deeper in her sleep she was. At one point, she murmured “Cold,” and seemed to move even closer, until her sleeping figure faced him: part of her long hair was on her face, and her lips seemed slightly parted, her breathing slowing and her chest slowly raising, her bosoms seemingly bigger by such position. He also noticed her forearms were cold and she had barely covered herself. He covered her quickly, taking off the hair from her face and trying to sleep. But he had such a vision, he couldn’t help but daydream about waking up with such a beautiful woman by his side. He fell asleep, enticed by her warmth and soft hand on his chest, and for once, slept through appropriate hours.

When the first rays of sunshine came, he woke up feeling warm and at peace. It almost seemed like a few years ago, and there was even the familiar blonde hair laying on his chest and sleeping peacefully in a nice and cozy bed. As he turned to see her, as in another dreams, familiarity was placed with horror: it wasn’t the woman he thought of at all, but Lady Eleanor, a small smile on her face as she slept on his chest.

He gasped audibly, quickly detangling himself from her, waking her up in the process. Trying to regain his breath, Eleanor was still groggy and asked “Did something happen, sir?”

He took a laboured breath and fixed his face “It seems that ah, we were both quite cold in the night.” He also tried not to look toward her shoulder, in which one piece of her chemise falling dangerously low to her bust. He quickly signalled and looked away as she fixed it, clearly blushing as much as he did.

“N-Nothing happened, right? J-just a harmless cuddle.”

He tried not to sizzle as she said that, but nodded “Yes, my lady. Just… that.”

She got out of bed, clearly waiting for her lady. He used the excuse to use the restroom, seeking some privacy to gather his thoughts.

After Eleanor had been properly dressed, he took his turn as the ladies took some simple breakfast and mentally prepared himself for the most awkward carriage ride of his life.

“Wait, are you saying that, overnight, your bodies had sought one another in a tender embrace?!” Briar gasped.

“Shhh!!” Eleanor shushed “And… apparently so.

She squealed, delighted by the juicy gossip “Look at yourself! Something tells me the wedding night will be successful!”

Eleanor blushed bright red, not wanting to think about that now “First, though, we’d need His Majesty’s consent. We are travelling to London for that, remember?”

Briar flashed a smirk “You need his permission to formally have coitus as a married woman. In the meantime, there are other ways to… get acquainted to one another,” she wiggled her eyebrows as Eleanor once again shushed her friend.

“For heaven’s sake, Briar, keep it down! Don’t you know where we are? One of these men could be courtiers, and our mission may be over if they overhear!” She whispered, mortified by how she seemed to scream her business. Some patrons were even staring at them curiously.

“Very well, my lady!” She giggled. Then, she cleared her throat as the man himself came and talked with the owner, paying him a rather generous sum and signalling the girls that the journey was once again afoot.

Eleanor got into the carriage herself, trying not to think of how warm and right he had felt. She hoped that she didn’t have any spies watching Eleanor closely. Trying to avoid talking to each other, their hands tight in their laps, she felt rather cold, and as they neared London, she grew aware that this was it. If they got their way, they’d be wed in a few weeks’ time and her plan would begin.

They had, at last, reached the royal residence and Mr. Sinclaire, aware of all eyes on him, stepped down first and offered his hand “Shall we, my lady?”

She took his hand, but something pushed her and she gasped. Before she could prepare for it, a pair of strong arms had caught her and steadied her. It was no less than Mr. Sinclaire, quick in his feet. Eleanor had realised that her gown was hanging low, having a daring but discreet decolletage that did not escape his eye, being dangerously close. Eleanor cleared her throat, putting once again distance between them. She could almost hear Briar giggling, happy with her plotting.

A royal page came to them and bowed “Greetings, good sir, my lady… The King shall see you tomorrow. Please, do enjoy your suites and the royal grounds in the meantime.”

They all nodded curtly before the page escorted them to their suites. Meanwhile, the highest ranking of English society gave them a good look. Indeed, Eleanor had dressed in the carefully prepared pink gown, standing out among the sore green, blue and ivory dresses.

She spotted the duke, his hand grazing a pretty lady’s hand, who respectfully bowed to the lady, and she gave her a curtly nod. He raised his cup in acknowledgement and she gave her another nod. He seemed to approach her, when a firm and familiar hand caught her forearm gently and whispered “Dear, we ought to go. There is much to do. We shall socialize at supper.”

She gave the duke an apologetic look, walking through the ornamented and beautiful halls of the palace as they reached said chambers, which were in front of the other. Eleanor had heard tales of promised couples sneaking at night and sharing certain touches and forbidden kisses to prepare themselves for the act, though Eleanor was not interested in such a thing, or so she told herself. She had to prepare her speech to convince the king. She had worked hard to be engaged to a nice man who wouldn’t chase after her when nightfall fell upon their wedding night, and she couldn’t blow it.

She looked around, and indeed, her bedroom was quite smaller, but still big enough for an earl’s daughter. She looked at her fiancé, who inspected everything “Why do you seem to despise the duke so? What is his sin?”

He stopped short, his eyes distant “Tis a tale for another day, my lady. You have enough on your plate. I’d hate to give you more trouble. I shall tell you, but not yet.”

She sighed, nodding “As you wish, sir.”

The couple took a deep bow, their knees almost touching the floor, their heads looking elsewhere as the royal couple took a good look at them. They both had their best clothes, bejewelled in the House of Tudor’s emblems.

“You may rise,” the king announced. Then, he turned to Mr. Sinclaire “Mr. Sinclaire, your family has served us since the times of William the Conqueror, being well-known for your intellect, unwavering loyalty and talent in politics. You are also quite the scholar, being one of the best educated men in my court. And, despite the rumours and talk about you, here you stand, willing to marry at the age of twenty to an earl’s daughter.”

“And Lady Eleanor,” the queen continued “your family, until later, was one of the most loyal to the crown, always standing by our side, that is until your father. He slandered me and played two sides, and today you are here paying your sin. You are young, beautiful, talented and well-educated. Why would you want to marry an esquire instead of, say, a duke?”

“My queen, I have been well aware all my life of this moment. I knew I was the coin exchanged to avoid being left fatherless. At first, marrying someone like Mr. Sinclaire was a burden, but… in these past years, we have come to an understanding. A mutual respect and affection towards one another. I may not know him well, but of all the men I have met, he and I are suited perfectly. Lands and titles are nothing if a union lacks such a thing.”

The king turned to Mr. Sinclaire “What do you have to say?”

“Your Grace, I heartily agree with Lady Eleanor. I have developed a strong affection for her, and despite our ranks being quite apart, our hearts are not. I will do anything in my power to make of Eleanor the happiest bride. As for the rumours, they are simply that. I have nothing to say to those who’d believe so quickly idle rumours. A wise ally shall do better than simply believe a man simply by idle gossip. You know that, having faced it with the queen.”

The king nodded, impressed by his words and looked over his wife. They both nodded, and the king announced “Well, if the two of you are truly willing, then I consent of this match. Before departing, I demand your presence to set a date. You may retire now.”

They both bowed deeply again, leaving while facing still the monarchs, and, after the door closed, Eleanor exhaled, relieved by it. She smiled over her fiancé “It seems like we shall be man and wife soon.”

He looked at her longingly and kissed her hand “Did you mean it, Eleanor?”

She blushed and nodded “Too much?”

“It was perfect. I am glad that we share certain… feelings.” An idea seemed to cross his mind and looked around “Would you like to retrieve a few sweets from the kitchen and take a stroll through the gardens? They are… quite lovely this time of the year, and I happen to know a spot.”

Eleanor was curious and didn’t want to face the court yet “Lead the way!”

The sun was shining, which was odd for English weather. Ernest led Eleanor through the leafy gardens, many flowers blooming in the faint sunlight. He picked a beautiful peony and placed it on her hair, and she smiled.

Then, he led her through a path that led uphill, and, in a few minutes, they were up and could see most of the gardens and the palace, and what was best: nobody was there. Eleanor admired the view “It’s beautiful, sir!”

“It truly is.”

She looked at him, noticing he had been staring at her all along, and blushed bright red. She gulped, not knowing what to do with such tender attentions. Still looking at the sunset, she cleared her throat “I’d like to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Your sweet words towards my person.”

He gave her an intense look “I spoke from the heart, my lady. Were my words shallow and made up, I do not think His Majesty would’ve consented.”

She looked down, at her hands, not knowing how to act around him knowing what she knew. He lifted her chin with his fingers and ran them through her lips “I know we did not ask for this but… I’d like to make this work nevertheless. I think that you and I share a connection, a feeling… I know we’ll make a fine marriage with time.”

Eleanor then remembered how he had kissed her that night, her breath shortening and her lips parting, suddenly wanting more. He seemed to catch her meaning, for he leaned over and, with watchful eyes that searched for any sign of her wanting to stop, he instead found her desiring it as much as he did. He first kissed her softly, careful not to spook her with his newfound passion for her. He gently placed his hands on her hips and cheek, drawing soothing circles to ease her initial nervousness. Then, her hands clumsily were on his hair, making him moan lowly of delight at such touch. Emboldening himself, he pressed her closer and intensified the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. A hum of surprise and delight encouraged him, and soon fell a few hairpins falling. She, either by testing or accident, bit his lip, making him gasp “If you keep kissing me like that, Eleanor, I don’t think I will remain a gentleman. Tell me to get back to the castle before we do something we might regret.” He almost pleaded.

“As long as you kiss me like that on our wedding.” She challenged.

His chest rumbled with boyish amusement and his eyes twinkled “I shall note it down.”

At night, Eleanor rolled over her sheets, reminiscing the latest happenings of the week: the travel, the inn incident, the audience with the king, the kiss they shared… her fingers touched where his lips had been, her chest flushing and her heartbeat once again beating rapidly. Then, one small thud came from her window. It was a note from her.

Meet me in the hallway that leads to the servant’s doors. We must talk urgently.

Mother.