The Other Henry VIII

Reconciliation

A/N: The Princess Margaret used in this story is a sort of combination between Henry's two sisters, Margaret and Mary. In this story she is born in 1493 (to split the difference). I'm sorry if I confused you in the past chapters.

"Is your son still ill, John?"asked Diana, leaning to her left.
"Unfortunately so, Your Majesty,"replied John. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and the bright green had lost its lustre.
"John, I told you to address me as Diana! You are my beloved brother, there is no need for such an unfriendly term."
"But you are the Queen of England,"he countered, smiling weakly at his sister who seemed to glow with good health and charm.
"You are married to the Royal Princess—His Majesty's sister. Do you call her Your Highness?"
"I do not,"said John.
"Well then,"resolved Diana cleverly, "I think that settles it."

She smirked at John's bemused expression and glanced over to Margaret who sat on the King's right. The Princess was a little older than Diana: maybe twenty-eight or so, but she had retained her youth more than Diana had. Her blue eyes were red, as if she'd been crying and her cheeks were tear-stained. A small fanfare brought her to her senses, and she quickly turned to face the front as the doors opened.

Princess Clara stood in the doorway, two ladies-in-waiting behind her, in a periwinkle-blue gown with a little white French hood pushed back on her head to show auburn hair. There was a carefully controlled smile underneath her petite nose, eyes gazing in respect at her father. Diana watched Henry's face light up as he beheld his favourite daughter, how tall she had grown and how pretty she had become.

Clara made her way forwards until she was directly in front of their table, where she dropped a low curtsy.

"Your Majesties,"she said clearly, her voice pleasantly warm.

Diana glanced sideways. Her husband seemed to have forgotten how to form words: his lips moved silently in awe, but his eyes never left Clara. She had to do say something to break the silence.

"Your Highness,"replied Diana, smiling as best she could at Clara. "I trust your journey from Westhorpe was comfortable?"

"As comfortable as riding in a carriage can be, Your Majesty. I am very grateful for the jewels that Your Majesties sent me. Lady Bryan told me they were my mother's." At this, the King stood up with a loud scrape from his chair. Just as the rest of the court stood up to curtsy or bow, he stormed past all of the courtiers and made for the door.

"Excuse us,"Diana said calmly to the baffled court, and marched after her husband.

She followed him all the way across the palace, until they reached a window seat tucked in at the end of a corridor. There, the King sat down with his head in his palm and started panting heavily.

"Your Majesty, what is it?"she asked comfortingly, kneeling at his feet.

"Clara...she reminds me of her..."he whispered. "I miss her so much, why did she... she left me..."

"She didn't leave you on purpose, Your Majesty,"soothed Diana.

"I know...I still miss her, Diana, and having Clara look so grown up...she reminds me of her..."

"You must be strong for your country, Your Majesty. Show them how brave you are,"Diana whispered. She couldn't help thinking... Was now the right time? "Indeed, it is not all bad, Henry." She paused, biting her lip.

"I'm with child again." The King stood up, and Diana followed. He stared at her for a few moments.

"Really?"he breathed. Diana nodded, guilt overwhelming her. Henry reached out his arms and pulled her into a tight hug, closing his eyes on her shoulders.

Somehow, Diana found herself hugging back.

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Only Diana really noticed the change in the way she was treated. Courtiers would bow respectfully when she entered a room, her family would smile and offer to assist her, Henry would be kind and considerate of her needs. They all seemed to have worked out the odds of having three daughters in a row and had decided that it was definitely a boy.
However, she lived a much more sheltered life now. She would be woken up late and had breakfast in her chambers. Her ladies would dress her in loose gowns and accompany her down to the throne room for the latest business. Lunch was in her chambers with Henry before a nap in the afternoon and a quick walk in the garden before a quiet sewing session and dinner in her chambers. She would be in bed by nine o'clock and miss out on the dances and feasts that went on throughout the night downstairs.

However, what Diana hated the most was the fact that she barely even saw Thomas. He was present at the business hours, but usually on the other side of Henry and all Diana could catch a glimpse of was the silhouette of his face against the light from the window.
Her life was sheltered now, watched at every moment; not for her own safety, but her 'precious cargo'.
It was then that she had an idea.

If Catherine could be trusted, anyway...

"Catherine?"called Diana from her armchair. She sat firmly by the fire with a barely finished shirt atop her belly.
"Yes, My Lady?"replied Catherine, walking over from the cluster of stools on the other side of the room. The other ladies looked up from their needlework curiously, eyes shining orange in the firelight.
Diana leaned upwards towards Catherine's ear and whispered breathily "can I trust you, Catherine?"
She could see her other ladies roll their eyes at the cousins' secretiveness and return to their sewing. They obviously had decided her conversation wasn't worth listening to.

"Of course, My Lady,"replied Catherine, bobbing a slight curtsy.
"I do not mean trust as in tell our uncle and grandfather. I mean trust as in no one else but me."
Diana smirked as Catherine's eyes widened, but she nodded slowly.

"Good. I have something I would like you to do for me."