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°➶☽∘ ✥ ∘☾➴°
𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 night, when everyone had gone to bed, Alexandra locked all her doors again. She does the same thing she did the night before. This time, she had made sure Harry was asleep. She made it very clear to him - without being suspicious - that she didn't want anyone to disturb her.
When Harry had asked her why, she told him that she was really tired and because he had woken her up so early the morning before, she needed extra sleep. Fortunately for her, he believed. So, here she finds herself, doing the same thing she has done so many nights before.
She takes out the key.
She unlocks her dresser.
She gets a candle.
Except this time, she is the one to write the letter, not read it. She had laid all the things she needed to write a letter the night before. It made it easier so she didn't have to fumble around or make any noise that could possibly wake up Harry.
She makes herself comfortable, settling down to write. A smile comes to her face as she recites the letter in her head.
My Dearest Christian,
Your letter brought me joy. I needed some, my mood was low. I miss my cousin, Teddy, Earl of Warwick. I had a dream about him some nights ago, the same day Catherine arrived. It was about the time when I snuck into the tower, finding my way into his room. He was surprised, but welcomed me.
I spent the whole night with him, talking and reading to him. It is and will always be one of my favorite memories, though I hope to create many amazing ones with you. Though I am sad about the past, I can look to the future now, to our union, which excites me to no end.
On to more happy things, I did enjoy the wedding. It was serene and delightful. I can't wait until it is us.
I still have not told my brother yet. I'm just worried that he'll react poorly. I will tell him eventually. I promise.
For now, just know I love you.
Sincerely,
Your Faithful Lover, Alexandra
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"Lady grandmother," Meg says, finding her grandmother in the library in Westminster castle. Meg has a determined look on her face and a plan in her mind. She is determined not to marry the king of Scotland and she doesn't care what she has to do to get the wedding called off.
"Look at this," Lady Margaret replies. She doesn't seem to want to hear what Meg has to say as she holds up a printed pamphlet, "It's a thing of beauty. It's a page from my own translation of De Imitatione Christi, printed by Caxton on his press for me. I supported him when he began his labors."
"Lady grandmother, my father is making a mistake," Meg states, "What kind of men serve this King James? They have been here for months, and they are drunk all the time."
"Oh, Meg," Lady Margaret sighs, "Do you know why this is beautiful to me?"
She motions to the parchment in front of her. Meg doesn't reply, What could that stupid piece of parchment have to do with my impending marriage to a savage Scot, Grandmother?
"It is the mind settled on a page," Lady Margaret continues, seeing the annoyance growing on her granddaughter's face, "A life settled can be just as beautiful. You should be grateful that your life is settled. Many would want it."
"They leer at the married ladies of the palace," Meg ignores her grandmother's words, determined to have her way, "They even touch them. They call me 'little fishy,' their king's little fishy who has been caught. Is this dignified for our family? One of them relieved himself against the Royal Chapel. The king prays there every day. Is this what they think of us, that our palace is nothing but a street market? Would King Henry of England send his daughter to such men?"
"For peace," Lady Margaret says rather coldly, "Yes."
"And you pay these brutes huge sums of money to take me away," Meg exclaims with an accusing look in her eye. Her grandmother seems surprised for she didn't expect Meg to know such information, but the princess knew more than she let on.
"That is no concern of yours," Lady Margaret replied stiffly as she tries to diffuse the situation and change the subject.
"King James is old," Meg cries in return as her grandmother is clearly not moved.
"Not that old," Lady Margaret counters as she reflects on her own age.
"He's old, and he'll die, next winter, if it is harsh," Meg objects, "And who will take his place? Someone who wants peace or good old war?"
As Meg storms off, Lady Margaret can't help but let out a sigh, Perhaps she is right.
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"My daughter bleats," Henry says once he hears the same thing Meg said to Lady Margaret, "It may sound like reason, but trust me, it is simply bleating."
"And yet I find myself wondering why we're paying out one-hundred thousand crowns to King James when he might be dead in a year," Lady Margaret counters with apprehension in his voice.
"For the treaty," Henry says in a cold voice. He clearly did not have any sympathy for the daughter he was going to sell like cattle.
"But we can't pay the dowry on Meg until the Spanish pay us for Catherine," Lady Margaret objects in annoyed voice, "We can't afford it."
"Spain will pay as they promised," Henry assures with confidence in his words and don't fool his mother.
"Well, let us cancel the wedding and hold Meg until they do," Lady Margaret reasons as she stands resolute before her son.
"Thomas. Your thoughts?" Henry asks, looking to the only other person in the room. Thomas looks up from his paper. He had been listening to the whole conversation though, only pretending to be doing something important.
"Forgive me for saying it, Your Grace, but no Spanish money is forthcoming, so perhaps we should change course," Thomas says in a careful tone, "The Scots wouldn't make war with us now that Isabella is our ally."
"The treasury is empty, Henry," Lady Margaret adds eagerly, "The Scottish peace will hold without an expensive wedding. It has to."
She stands up, placing a hand on his shoulder, "At least, for now."
Lady Margaret doesn't give her son room to argue as she turns and leaves the room quickly. He shakes his head, wondering how he can possibly argue with two women as determined as his mother and his daughter.
