Tudor Rose

vi. scars and souvenirs

February 13, 1519

Just like that, English court, for the most part, returned to it's normal, albeit uninteresting, state. I was quietly impressed by the court's ability to move on from things so quickly. It didn't matter whether or not the day brought us immense joy or sorrow, it was forgettable like all the others.  England's stubborn resilience remained unmatched. For example, the loss of the French alliance was something we forgot incredibly easily. Especially with the news of the Whitewood match. I'd heard from the French ambassador that in a letter, the king described his remorse for ending the alliance. I paid no attention to it. If this was Francis' way of saying he was interested in an alliance once more, then he would need to find a better way to present it. Repentance was a very unbecoming trait for anyone to have, English and French alike.

The Duke and Duchess of Wessex and their children arrived at court in the midst of a harsh rainstorm. Henry and I waited for them in the throne room, where we sat idly. The anticipation was unbearable. I wondered whether the little boy was humble or proud; unsightly or attractive. I wondered about Rebecca Whitewood, too. Henry assured me that she was a good, kind girl but I wasn't sure how much I trusted his judgement. For all I knew, her kindness was a mask she wore in the presence of her sovereign. 

All my thoughts were silenced when the family finally entered the large room.

There were five of them, I noted. The duchess, a woman of thirty-five or forty years, was a gray person, though she must've been lovely in her prime years. Her lips were contorted into an emotionless scowl, and it was incredibly unflattering. In her arms, she held a newborn child. The duke, on the other hand, was lively and smiling. He was the epitome of joy. 

The children were much more likable. Including the baby, there were three of them; two I knew to be Rebecca and James. Rebecca was a teen girl, dressed in a subtle blue gown and matching gable hood. Underneath her petite, narrow nose were her pillowy lips that were turned into a carefully controlled grin. Mousy hair fell in loose curls past her shoulder blades, some of it spilling over when she curtsied gently. James, a boy of only six years, looked a lot like his sister. They had the same pleasant features-brown hair, a small nose- with the exception of their eyes. While Rebecca's eyes were a subtle hazel color, James boasted deep emerald ones. He was also going to be much taller than his older sister based on his lanky stature, but I didn't think too much about that. 

"Thank you so much for coming to court on such short notice," I greeted kindly, "I trust your journey was comfortable?"

"It was, Your Majesty," the Duke of Wessex replied, "We are honored to be here, and to present Rebecca and James to you. I was elated when I found out that my son was being considered for this opportunity."

"If we follow through with this betrothal, or 'opportunity' as you called it, then James will be the king one day," Henry reminded them, his seething gaze darting across the room.

"And we are forever grateful for Your Maj-"

"I wasn't finished speaking," Henry interrupted, "James will be contracted to Princess Katherine, my eldest daughter and, more importantly, the heir to the English throne. Seeing as they will be ruling the country together, they will need to get along well. That is why I've brought my daughter to court, so that Katherine and James may become acquainted." He motioned to the door, and we all turned to look.

"Her Royal Highness, the Princess Katherine."

My daughter walked in, looking regal as ever. At only six years old, and she was more elegant than I'd ever be. It was quite impressive. To be a princess in name is one thing, but to embody the role so perfectly was quite a feat. She was dressed in a cheerful, coral-colored gown and a matching gable hood. Her dark brown hair was left alone, and she was grinning slightly. Her smile was illuminated when she saw me and Henry, and she completely disregarded our guests.