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He first meets her when he goes to court.
In truth he imagines that, that is not the first time he meets her. He grows up hearing stories of the woman that married the squire, the witch who managed to get what she wanted, the true Plantagenet Princess come home at last after generations of Tudors before her.
But the reality is that the first time he meets her he is at court. Anne Boleyn is falling and his sister is there to pick the King up when he needs assistance. The throne of England is in their sights and everyone from his father to his mother to him can see it. Even Jane has her eye on the glittering diamond encrusted chair and she surely needs to take it off her predecessor. History might remember his sister as meek and sweet but Edward would be the first to say that Jane’s got a wilful streak in her a mile long and she wants to see her rival fall.
But his father introduces himself to Sir Anthony Knivert. As the King’s brother in law this is the man that they need to court. He and Charles Brandon are essential to getting the King on their side and so he meets the man and finds despite himself that he is impressed. For a man who does not push himself in front of the council all too often he does a wonderful job of making sure that his opinion is known.
His father mentions in passing his wife and then with a touch to her waist she is there, the Princess Elizabeth, Lady Knivert, the last true York Princess…depending on who you speak too of course.
For the first time in his life he feels something inside him shift when he looks at her. He doesn’t understand it but he feels it. It is a hard thing to think about even later as he stares upon the fire in his chamber. He was married to Catherine for a good many year and after that abortion there was Anne and though their marriage is not a perfect marriage is a long lasting marriage and they both have their eyes fixed firmly on the prize. But the truth of the matter is that Elizabeth Princess of York is most stunning woman he has ever laid eyes upon.
And he does not know what to do about that.
She holds out her hand and he takes it and kisses it and then she turns the conversation so elegantly that he feels like a schoolboy caught with his pants down around his ankles and his cock in hand.
He soon learns that he is not the only man to feel such a way when Elizabeth Tudor, Princess of York is around.
It does not help matters.
The second time he sees her it is after Anne Boleyn has been arrested. He has seen her many times at court and has heard many stories including a terrified one from Jane where she swears that the Princess cursed all the Maids but he sees her lying on the ground when he is with Sir Francis and for a moment his heart stops (he swears reverently to God). Her girl…well one of them…God knows the Knivert family is full of bloody girls is still watching the barge but it is Sir Francis who gets to her first. She looks like a fallen angel on the ground her headdress of her hair spilling out over her shoulders and though he is loath to leave her with a rouge like Francis he has to admit later on the man has done him a favour.
The urge to rub his face in all that delicious golden hair was so strong it made every bone in his body ache with desire and after he got the carriage to come round he had to go into the local whorehouse pick the nearest blonde he could see and bend her over and take her from behind just so he could get his erection down.
Christ he doesn’t know what it is but he fears this woman is going to be the death of him and he does not, for the life of him know why.
The third time he knows why.
He is in love.
She comes to Henry’s side out of childbed herself. He has heard of the Northern rebels, of what they did while they were in Middleham, of the fact that they held her hostage and yet somehow she triumphs over them. He hears of Sir Anthony rushing to his wife’s side and he thinks that though he loves Anne and though he fucks Anne (mostly) and though Anne loves and fucks him (mostly) there is a truth to their relationship that they both understand. They are in this for themselves. There isn’t a love between them that would see them go from one ends to the country on horseback like Anthony Knivert does for his wife. Indeed if he had done that for Anne she would more than likely leave him outside the castle for all the trouble that he would have caused.
But when he sees her again he can see the toll it has had on her. His sister is breaking her body into pieces in the effort to give his King a son, to send the Seymour’s on a quest to power that is almost unheard off, to do what the Boleyn’s fail to do and when she does it…when she finally gives the King a boy despite all the odds he finds himself staring at the King’s sister his heart a thumpa-thumping and he knows what this is. This surely has to be love.
For once he is choosing to believe that this is love. Unrequited maybe, but for him this is love.
She holds out her hand and he takes it and kisses it and they have a back and forth conversation that every man in the palace longs to have with this sharp woman and then the moment is ruined.
Because though his sister has given birth to the King’s son, though the Northern rebellion is over and though he has just had an almighty revelation it comes crashing down in seconds because his sister is dead and the entire country has his hopes pined on his nephew who is a quiet baby who cries but does not scream and who does not kick his legs lustily. The baby is frail and there is nothing that they can do about it.
He makes love to Anne that night and if she wonders just why he wants to make love after his sister dies she’s been married to him long enough to not comment. Afterwards he stares at the embroidered curtains and he lets his eyes burn with tears. For his sister, for his King. For himself. Because if truth be told when he holds his wife and tips himself into her and shudders against her with his orgasm he is not seeing Anne with her red hair and dark eyes and her lust for power that almost eclipses her lust for him.
He sees her.
Elizabeth Tudor, Princess of York, Lady Knivert.
He is ruined.
He thinks that again when she comes out of her…well…whatever it is she’s doing with the King and the Fool. She looks like she’s not slept in days and she has a whiff about her that reminds him of when he and Thomas went to the opium dens. Her gown is half slipping off her and he cannot help but stare at the shoulder of creamy skin that she is showing. It’s the first time most of them have seen her looking utterly undone. Apart from her husband who Edward is sure is the envy of the entire council right now. Even Cromwell cannot keep his eyes off her and Edward is quite sure that only ambition stirs that man’s cold and cruel heart. And Charles Brandon but then again he thinks that Charles Brandon is almost family so there’s that. God knows you could never get Charles Brandon away from the King while the King still breathes.
“His Majesty is resting” she said finally and with a look that makes all of them share a little gleeful grin with their neighbour she looks at Cromwell and makes him move so she can sit at the head of the table.
“He is grieving as my Lords will expect and I have been assisting his progress through this most trying time. My Lord Privy Seal will be relieved to know he is to see him in the morning at dawn”
Well Edward thinks, that’s something anyway.
But she’s not done and Edward feels a sense of doom coming this way and he really…really does have to stop staring at that shoulder!
“My Lord Suffolk will see him this afternoon. And while he is grieving he has sent me to do his work”
Oh dear God.
“You Madam?” Rich said about as delicately as he could.
“Me” she said smugly. “For see here my Lords, here is the King’s ring and his seal”
She takes one look at them and rolls her eyes sighing.
“Oh come to grips men it is for one day. Even I cannot do that much damage”
Edward is not entirely sure what to make of that. It sounds as if it is a lie in the making. Considering the havoc she has wrecked on him and his heart and his dreams he thinks it very probable that in one day this woman could make or break a kingdom just like she made or broke men.
But what a fucking glorious way to go!
“And to answer your question Sir Edward the Prince is not yet of age. The King is still living, you are the Lord Protector of nothing and I am still the highest ranking person after his Majesty. Any concerns of my believes can be taken up with him but Bishop Gardiner will attest that I am nothing but His Majesty’s humble servant heart and soul”
She eyes him then and Edward feels as vulnerable as if she’s stripped him naked and then he has to work hard to hide his shiver. He should not think of her as if naked when her shoulder is on show and she is burning him alive with this look. He thinks that she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and he knows without even trying that this image right here is going to be the thing that he wanks to for the next few months to come.
“But you are to be congratulated Sir Edward. His Majesty in his infinite wisdom is to give you the appointment of Lord Hereford”
He swallows again. It is an honour he knows and he also knows what ever man here knows, he get’s it because of what his sister has done. Pushing a boy out and then dying. This is his reward for that great loss. A nephew that he will never see and a title that he suspects his son might never use. His father would be proud.
All of this on the merits of his sister.
It’s hard not to be a little bitter. All a man at court wants to do is earn his honours himself. It is a matter of pride.
But he manages to bow to her looking away and trying to get his emotions under control least the entire council see them written so nakedly on his face.
“And I know” she said with much sweetness (amount as much as a cat about to lap at milk—Christ he has to stop thinking of those images! He feels like he needs to go to confession!) “That everyone will congratulate my husband on his title as His Grace the Duke of Sussex”
Anthony Knivert turns around so quickly Edward actually winces but in truth he cannot be anything but glad. While everyone here wants power for himself Sir Anthony is the exception. He is fair and measured manages to walk a good line between the King and opinion. He cannot be swayed against his opinion and his love and devotion to his wife makes even Anne envious. And the man is the King’s brother-in-law. Considering everyone here is an up and comer rather than the son of the son of the son of some great Lord it’s a reward that does inspire genuine congratulations.
Besides…he likes the ring of Somerset if he was getting a Dukedom.
“So” she said with that confidence that had to be born from being royal and that bright smile that was both pretty and dangerous all at once.
“What’s, first on the agenda?”
What is surprising is that she is very good at it. Nobody walks away at that council meeting with complaints but he suspects that several walk away needing to see their wives, their whores or their priest for confession against impure thoughts.
Edward sympathises.
Deeply.
Katherine Howard becomes Queen.
Edward has reservations from the start. He has three daughters and he knows Anne is eager for them to begin their court education but she takes one look at Katherine Howard and her face turns thunderous. Edward cannot blame her. The girl is a Howard whore through and through. Actually that might be unfair to the Howards. Anne Boleyn was a Howard and Anne Boleyn turned a court upside down and had men surrounding her all the time but even Anne Boleyn did not shimmy her way to the throne. Anne Boleyn had that look of a woman who might at the very least be a good Queen.
“When I think of Catherine of Aragon who used to command armies…” Anne says that night as they go to bed. Her belly is flat again after the birth of Thomas—he does not question her assurances that he is the father—long ago he learnt that he did not care. Besides…Anne always comes back, and his side of the bed is not clean either.
“I know” he says stoking the fire. Anne passes him a goblet of wine.
“I do not understand just what the hell possessed you—”
“She was supposed to a whore to keep his mood in check”
“And you thought she would stay that way? Good Lord Edward have you learnt nothing? Two Queens before her, and one of them your own sister have made the walk from the maids chamber to the throne and you send in the most vapid, vein child…Edward…”
“Brandon, and Bryan both thought it was a good idea”
“What did Knivert say?”
“Nothing you know he does not care about other woman, she could have stripped naked there and then—and she very nearly did and he would not have noticed”
“Well his wife sure as shit did”
That got Edward’s attention.
“What do you mean?”
“Did you see her tonight”
Did he see her? What was she blind?
The entire court had seen her, collectively every man had sighed with desire. Edward thought as age settled on her she looked even more lovely.
Anne rolled her eyes.
“Not like that. Did you see her face when she saw Katherine Howard sitting on her mother’s throne?”
“No why?”
“Because I did. And let me tell you there’s going to be blood on the stairs before the year is out. Princess Elizabeth can trace her bloodline back to the start of time, further if you can believe the rumours. Neither she nor the Lady Mary will ever take Katherine Howard seriously as Queen. And you and I both know the King cannot function without his sister”
That was true. Over the years the Princess had become the new Catherine of Aragon. A firm, fixed figment of court. Not even Surrey was mad enough to take her on. She never had to say what she thought for everyone to know it and if Anne was right (and about this Anne was probably right) the whole court would know by morning that there was a division within the Royal Family. And without the Princess, much like without Brandon, he did not know how the King was going to manage.
It came to a head shockingly three months later.
She had been at a private dinner with the King, his daughters and he had been attempting to tell the Queen that her allowance for the month had been spent in two weeks. When she had told him she intended to wear three new gowns each day until the day she died he had not been able to hide his frustration and had rolled his eyes heavenwards. Christ Anne was right, this girl was not a Queen. As for the maids chambers and the state they were in…Edward had heard enough stories to know that under no circumstances was he ever…ever…going to want his girls here.
Maybe time would change he thought as she turned in a huff and ran for the King but he really didn’t think time could change Katherine Howard. He just hoped that the King got a boy on her. His nephew was the undisputed heir but a second boy was good from a national importance kind of view.
And they needed some good news now especially.
“Sir Edward” Princess Elizabeth said gracefully. She did not stand when the Queen came in the room and he had to hide his smile. Her manners were perfectly correct and he took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. He wanted to linger there but he was not some green page boy. He had accepted a long time ago that this love for her was unrequited. He did not think she even knew.
“I hear you and your wife are to be congratulated. Another son I hear?”
“You do indeed hear right Madam, a boy, we have called him Thomas”
“Please send her along my congratulations and my well wishes”
“She will be thankful Madam”
“Henry, Sir Edward doesn’t want me to spend as much money. Make him give me more”
The Princess rolled her eyes. Sir Edward bit his lip. Lady Mary smothered her giggle in her napkin.
“I am sure sweetheart that Sir Edward was only thinking of the good of the realm”
“He is the only one” she muttered and then in that carrying tone one used when one wished to be heard by every man, woman and child in Christendom—God knows it was a Royal voice if ever there was one.
“Sir Edward” she said loudly. “Do you think the money should be better spent?”
“I think Madam so the King in this happy time does not have to. And the truth of the matter is that while gowns are an important furnishing so are troops if we are to keep the French at bay”
“Well then take some of my sister’s gowns”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh Elizabeth surely you must have some gowns that you do not need anymore? Give them to Katherine and save Sir Edward from worrying”
It was hard to tell who looked more furious at that one. The Queen or the Princess. Personally if Edward was a gambling man if there was one woman he would not want angry with him it was the Princess. The problem was now the King new his power…so what was stopping him from going too far?
“Oh do not give me her gowns” Katherine pouted positioning herself in a way that in any decent town would have gotten her whipped for wantonness.
“Her gowns are hideously ugly and old and far, far too loose for me. She’s had six children, I still have my flat belly”
That bitch.
The Lady Mary looked stunned, Lady Elizabeth looked stunned, Edward was stunned. The King said nothing, the only person in the situation who remained perfectly calm was the Princess but her hands were on the arms of her chair and her fists were curled. Instead she stared down Katherine Howard with an expression that would have turned the Thames to ice and Edward Seymour watching felt scared…
He had his principles and one of them was that witchcraft did not exist. Of course even in the country they had all heard the stories of the Woodville line, the water goddess that called to her daughters and the rumours that the Princess Elizabeth possessed such magic but whenever it was discussed his mother would point out that she ran a Christian home (despite his father) and that she did not tolerate discussion of such wickedness in her house.
“Yes I have had six children to your Majesty’s…none…” she let the word draw out deliciously and Edward felt a little shiver run down his spine and he folded his lip harder into his teeth to keep the smile from bay.
“And Sir Edward deserves more respect, he is conducting the business of the realm for the King, he does not have time to indulge in the whims of a Queen who is acting more and more like a spoilt little girl. Do you not agree Henry?”
The King blinked but said nothing. Edward did not know what to make of that and carefully thought nothing. Henry was his King, the father of his nephew and the husband of his sister. But…but as every man knew in this country he at times could make it bloody hard.
But again…he said and thought nothing.
But that stupid girl was not finished.
“Better a spoilt little girl than a fat, ugly old witch”
Lady Mary spat out a mouthful of wine and Sir Edward went for his sword before he flicked his wrist out. He like every man at court did not wear weapons and it was treason to even suggest so. Instead he flicked his wrist as if he had an ache and firmly placed both hands on his ledger.
But she did not miss a beat and Edward loved her move for it. Magnificent, truly, truly, magnificent.
“Better a spoilt little girl than a fat, ugly old witch”
Edward could not help but think ‘Take that’. He was watching them both like it was a tennis match but the ball was firmly in her court. The Queen could not match wit such as this. He did not know anyone since Anne Boleyn who could match wit such as this.
“Better a Queen that a hanger on. You know I’m the fifth Queen.”
“And I’ve outlasted all of them”
“Yes, the daughter of a witch, the granddaughter of a whore and witch and—”
“Queens” Princess Elizabeth said softly. “They were all Queens, Queen Katherine and the King's family”
Katherine Howard scoffed running her hand up Henry’s arm.
“Fat, ugly, old and in a temper” she said slyly. “I do not know why you need her Henry”
Princess Elizabeth eyed her brother for such a long moment Edward felt ill just looking at them both. He thought he saw something in the blue eyes dim a little but then again…he was an expert in the blue eyes. He saw them, dreamt of them…they haunted his every waking moment.
He thought he would remember ever single second he had stared into those blue eyes.
Princess Elizabeth nodded and with a decorum that would be applauded by all everywhere she stood up. Both of her nieces stood up with her and it was a sign to him if not to the King that the ladies of England were reunited against his Queen. Not even Anne Boleyn had achieved that totally unity.
“Clearly the King wishes to be alone” she said turning to her niece as if the King and Queen were a mere afterthought. Lady Mary’s expression was nothing but sympathetic but her care was for her sister first and foremost. Edward understood that…and though he disagreed with her in many forms he respected her for it as well.
“We should leave him. Mary why do you not take Elizabeth back to your chambers. You girls will both need your sleep before we travel to the North assuming of course that his Majesty still wants me there? The old fat ugly witch?”
Carefully nobody looked at the King and then the Princess Elizabeth, Lady Knivert, doubly royal as Her Highness the Dowager Duchess of Urbino and Her Grace the Duchess of Sussex turned on her heel and with contempt in every line of her body and without so much as a curtsey she swept from the room.
The depth of his bow could not be explained.
“Lord Hartford?”
“Lady Mary?”
“Should I go…”
“No” he said shaking his head. “Take your sister back to your rooms. Act regal”
He did not have to say anything more. Credit where credit was due Lady Mary knew when the winds of change were blowing against the family. She would act the part of Princess until she was dead.
A part of Edward really did thing—good for her.
But the two Tudor girls went and he went in search of their Aunt.
And then he was going in search of Brandon.
Because this…this could not stand. Not just from a personal point but if they let Katherine Howard into the European courts as Queen they would be a war with Christendom within the month.
He found her in an empty chamber her hair loose and her hood thrown on the table staring out the window. What shocked him deep into his very soul was that her shoulders were shaking.
Surely to God…surely she was not crying?
Not her…not the Princes…her composure was legendary and she had stared down assassins, threats to her life, Queens, death, disgrace and being held hostage and somehow it was Katherine Howard that caused her to cry?
This would not stand.
He should have left her to her own devices but this was the woman that he loved and adored even if it was from afar and so he instead did something very stupid and…
“Don’t cry”
And then he was tugging her around by the shoulders and if he had thought she was beautiful before it was nothing to how she was now.
What that said of him he really could not think.
“Do not cry” he said seeing her expression. “Please do not cry it breaks my heart”
She sighed looking at him and Edward knew that she had known…she had known all along and that she was very gently and very carefully going to break his heart all over again.
Well…what had he expected?
“Sir Edward”
“Do not cry please. You are worth ten of her without even trying. She is nothing but a common whore we made Queen”
“And yet you made her Queen”
“I didn’t I was always for letting her stay in his bed. Believe me had I know what I was letting myself into I wouldn’t have bothered. The finances are a mess. She’s told her privy secretary that she intends to change her gown into a brand new one three times a day until she dies”
“Oh bloody—”
“I know” he said nodding. “I have three daughters Ma’am and even they are not like this”
“Sir Edward”
“Do not cry please. You are worth ten of her without even trying. She is nothing but a common whore we made Queen”
“And yet you made her Queen”
“I didn’t I was always for letting her stay in his bed. Believe me had I know what I was letting myself into I wouldn’t have bothered. The finances are a mess. She’s told her privy secretary that she intends to change her gown into a brand new one three times a day until she dies”
“Oh bloody—”
“I know” he said nodding. “I have three daughters Ma’am and even they are not like this”
She laughed and he smiled but then she was crying again and all he wanted to do was take her into his arms and hold her.
But she was not his to hold…and he had known that too.
“I…I must apologise” she said trying in vein to get herself under control. “It’s not very regal is it?”
“I think you were more regal than the others in the room tonight, I think you were magnificent”
She laughed though it was a watery one.
“I do not wish His Grace to know” she said using her husband’s title. “It is foolish”
“You were magnificent” he said softly. “You are always magnificent and she knows it. You shine of pure gold and she of common pewter or lead. You light up the court without trying and she’s a stupid little—” he cut himself off abruptly, he had manners after all and he had his loyalty and if truth be told he should not be saying such things about the Queen of England even if the Queen of England was nothing better than a whore he longed to smack.
And then it hit him and a thought that to him was so terrible he could frame it into words took hold.
“Sir Edward”
“Dear God woman tell me you do not believe a word she says”
She gave a little self-deprecating shrug and he scoffed. He could not believe it. He really, really could not believe it. Of everything that he had heard before in his life up until this moment, this…this right here was really too much.
“I am old, I have had six children, and I am riddled with vanity. And though it does not bother Sir Anthony—”
“I should think not!”
She laughed.
“Even though it does not bother Sir Anthony it does bother me.”
“It shouldn’t. You should not let her get to you. Good Lord woman do you not know that when half the court sees you they go week at the knees?”
That was an understatement. He knew that every man weather he a page boy, a kitchen boy or a member of the Privy Council had at one point or another put his hand on his cock and thought of this woman. Her beauty was unrivalled by most if not all over the court.
And God help him that included his wife.
She rolled her eyes and Sir Edward took her hand and pressed it to his chest.
“Yours” he said as she felt his heartbeat under the fabric.
“No” she said shaking his head. It did not shatter his heart. He had known when he had fallen in love with her that she would not return such feelings. One only had to look at her and Sir Anthony and know that they were a couple deeply in love. Actually from the outside it made him respect the man more. And really…what had he been expecting her to do. Lift her gown up and tell him to stick his cock in her?
Shit…he should not think of such things.
“Never?”
“Anthony is my soul”
“Then God knows I envy him”
It was closest that he was ever going to get and she knew that. Despite his double dealings and his streak of self preservation that he knew he had ingrained him from a lifetime of living with his father in a small country manor, from all those years of his marriage to Anne where they had turned a blind eye to whomever they fucked nine times out of ten he was honourable.
It was why he had such a good marriage, why he had such a strong sense of family. Or at least so he thought. Perhaps history would remember something else. He did not know. But he knew that this was his destiny, his doomed love for a woman far above him. A courtly love, a troubadour’s love. The love that would last with him…the great love…that he could not have. He could have all the wealth and titles in the world. He could have his relationship to the monarchy for generations to come and yet he could not have love.
That was the great balance in this Tudor world, power or love but the reality was a man would struggle to find both.
“But it is still yours” he said quietly looking at her. She looked at him and he noticed that her eyes were very, very blue.
She pulled her hand from his grip and held it, he took it flipped her palm over and pressed a kiss into it.
“Princess” he said breathing over her hand.
“Sir Edward” she said calmly.
And then he was gone. There was work to do after all and though he wanted to go and cry like a boy who’d had his heart broken for the first time he knew that there was something he could do.
And so he went and found Charles Brandon.
Charles Brandon opened the door to his bedchambers.
“Lord Hartford”
“Your Grace. I understand that the hour is late and I apologise but I must have urgent words”
“Now?”
“It concerns a certain Princess of whom we both have a great degree of affection and respect for”
Charles Brandon’s eyes widened for a second and then he opened the door jerking his head and Edward darted in before he shut the door behind him.
“Pour two glasses and tell me what’s happened.”
Edward did and he handed him a glass.
“It’s the Queen”
“Figured as much. God knows they were headed for a fight. It’s like cats on a stable roof.”
“Indeed”
“Well go on then…tell me what happened”
And so he did. Word for word.
When he was done Brandon let out a low whistle.
“Bloody hell” he blasphemed taking a gulp of wine and with a jerk of his head Edward who had been sat next to the fire poured them some more. “She said all that? And Lizzie left her standing with her face attached?”
“Yes”
“What did Lizzie do?”
He told him. Brandon grinned.
“And how did you leave her?”
“Crying”
Brandon choked out his wine.
“CRYING?”
“Crying”
“Lizzie does not cry. Seriously I don’t think I have ever…ever seen her cry.”
“No. But this time she was”
“Jesus”
“It’s worse.”
“How…did she believe—oh good God man did she?”
Edward shrugged.
“Anthony will go insane”
“It’s not just that. It’s the whole behaviour of the Queen in general. Your Grace…she wishes to have a new gown for three times a day for every day of her life. That’s enough money on silk to bankrupt us within the week and I fear…”
“If you let her loose in the courts of Europe with the ambassadors she’ll ruin us? Well your not the first so I would not worry about that. We have all wondered weather or not she is suitable. And Lizzie…well…Lizzie’s tough. Lizzie survives. And I will handle Anthony. Do not tell him my Lord. This kind of thing requires…careful handling”
Edward snorted but he said nothing. In truth it was a very good thing. He did not think he could look Knivert in the eye and speak the truth to him without his feelings showing on his face.
And this court had already had enough in-fighting.
“Your not the first you know” Brandon said finally.
Edward stiffened.
“I do not know of what you speak Your Grace.”
“Sure” Brandon said with a long grin. “Sure you do not Lord Hartford”
As it turned out someone else got rid of Katherine Howard. It was Gardiner who took the credit, some Lascelles girl who was the name behind the plot but somewhere down the line Edward suspected that it bore Elizabeth Tudor, Princess of York’s hallmark on it. Either way he suspected that as the King married for a sixth time to Katharine Parr (the woman Thomas had been determined on for some time) and the French invasion began to take form, there was a reason why the woman got the regency.
Actually when he heard he could not help but laugh. Anne kicked him under the table and he turned it into a laughing cough at the last minute but he could not help himself from smiling like a simpleton the rest of the night.
And for once. His hands were clean.
He sneaks past their chambers one night, too much paperwork, too much whoring whatever it is but he hears a moan and he cannot stop himself. He sees her on her knees her mouth around her husband’s cock, her blonde hair in disarray and he stays for longer than he should and when he gets back to his chamber he is shaking, burning with shame and he wakes Anne up just so he can have his dick in something.
He cannot help himself and it’s only by the grace of God alone that he does not cry out Elizabeth’s name as he fucks his wife.
He cannot look her in the eye for weeks.
It takes even longer before he can look Sir Anthony in the eye.
Somehow though…like a stain on his hose…he thinks the man knows.
Anne loved Katharine Parr as Queen.
Granted Anne loved power and if she could get it off Katharine then she would but Katharine was a true reformer and his wife was the same. Katharine was a great believer in a woman’s right to an education and Anne wasted no time in sending for their daughters to be Maids and so the education of the Queen’s ladies began.
Edward found that he did not mind this. He loved his daughters Anne and Margaret and though little Jane was too young to come to court he still loved having his children with him, they sent for Ned his son and Henry to learn their craft and Anne delighted him by falling pregnant again (this time he was sure that it was his) and having a daughter by the name of Catherine for the Queen. With the King in France a Queen who a true friend to the reformation it was a good time and he found that his marriage to Anne was in a good place. It was nice to work with the Princess as regent, seeing if truth be told what a better ruler than the King she was and then coming home to his wife at the end of the day. So much of his life had been the intertwining of the two woman and now with the King gone, with Thomas in the admiralty it was almost easy to separate the deep abiding love he felt for Elizabeth with the steady comforting affection that he and Anne felt for the other.
It was one night when Anne was embroidering that she mentioned it.
“Princess Elizabeth is to translate and publish the story of Melusina”
“The story of what?”
“Melusina”
“The water goodness thing?”
“Yes. Actually she told us today. It was remarkably sad and romantic”
Edward is well versed in Anne enough to know that if she thinks something is romantic the woman of the court fell apart over it. Instead she tells him and the story fills him with such a melancholy that he found that there were tears coming to his eyes.
“Turned you down didn’t she?”
“Anne”
“You don’t have to tell me anything Edward. I know you and despite everything I do indeed love you. And we have had many children together. And I know you. And I know her. So it’s alright”
It’s the closest he will ever get to…a declaration from her at any rate and so he closes his eyes and if tears come out of them Anne just takes his hand and stares into the fire.
He loves her. He does. He just…he’s not in love with her.
But the woman he is in love with doesn’t love him back. And he and Anne are on the cusp of making England their own.
And that is all that matters.
When he goes to bed that night he turns and makes love to his wife. He still sees blonde hair and but he is kind and thoughtful and he dreams that night of a watery woman pulling him down into the sea so that they can be together forever.
Then the King came back.
He did not know how it happened but somehow Katharine managed to dodge an arrest warrant. Edward who had always liked her admires her more for it. He says nothing, does nothing. Everyone from the page boy to the Privy Council know the King of England is nearing death. There is nothing to do but sit with his wife and her friends and his friends and plot the England that they will make when the great man is gone.
And then word reaches them that Charles Brandon is dead.
It’s a blow not just for them but for the court and for everyone who knew him. Brandon was one of those men that had been there from the beginning. He was uncomplicated really, loyal to the King and his love for the man was inspiring. Indeed as Anne had commented it was a shame he was not a woman for he would have been the true love of Henry’s life. Edward had smirked and blown out the candle but in truth it was easier for him now that Brandon was gone. Brandon who for all they might have known was already set in stone to be regent.
“It’s not Brandon you have to worry about” Anne says into the darkness in that uncanny way she has of reading his thoughts.
“Is her. Elizabeth. For she is his sister, she can rule and she will not put up with your great friends Grey and Dudley. Especially now her daughter will be the new Duchess of Suffolk.”
Edward says nothing.
His heart beats for one woman and his head is telling him another is right.
Damn everything.
Then word hits them days later that Anthony Knivert is dead.
It hits him like it was his own brother.
Sinfully what he can think off…indeed all he can think off is that the woman he loves is free.
He spends one afternoon thinking about how he can get rid of Anne—he knows that at least a third of his children have their parentage in doubt even if she is pregnant again and this time by him (if it is a girl then damn it all to hell he is going to call her Elizabeth. If they can have a son called Thomas then they are damn well going to have a daughter called Elizabeth). He thinks about riding up to Middleham and being with her, even if it is not as her husband but as her lover, he thinks about warming her bed for her. A male whore who services the woman that he loves. He thinks he can do that but then he takes himself in hand (not that way the other way) and he shakes himself firmly. He cannot do that. He is the Uncle of the future King of England. He has a legacy, a reputation and a family to protect and he has to admit it’s not like she races to ask him—not that he expects it. Over the years he has learned acceptance. His love for her is a courtly love.
It does not stop him dreaming off it, even if it is for one, glorious sunlit afternoon.
He mourns Knivert. He does really, the man was a godsend on the council, a loving husband and a deeply compassionate man who held believes that were unchangeable. God knows you could never buy Anthony Knivert and he was never one to put himself forward and for that alone Edward both respects and mourns him—he does not even feel glad that the man is gone to clear his path for the regency as he did with Brandon, but his mourning is in short supply as it is clear to all that the King is getting worse, soon to be taken from them worse and soon Elizabeth herself is at court to see him. He goes down to meet her, to try and prepare her for what happens when she sees her brother who has changed so much since the death of his two—last best friends and when he sees her he takes her in.
She seems dwarfed by grief almost. She is small and he has never thought of her ever as small. He knows that his shock is shown in his expression because she smiles at him though there is no joy for her. No joy in her left and he feels like crying and he cannot think on why when there is work to be done.
Instead desperate as he is for a few minutes alone with her he takes her to the lily-pad garden and sits her on a bench.
“Princess”
“Lord Hartford”
“I cannot…I must tell you how utterly distraught I am by your husband’s death. His Grace was a man of uncompromising principles and he will be desperately missed”
“Thank you”
“Madam…I…”
She smiles at him as if this is funny, as if the whole world is funny, life…death…and everything in between. The confidence of this woman is extraordinary and he admires her for it.
“Edward”
It is the first time that she has ever used his Christian name and he knows well enough that as it is the first time it will be the last.
“Elizabeth”
He uses her name too because what does it matter? Now when everything is ending and everything is beginning. Fortune’s wheel. As you rise you fall.
“I am dying”
He feels his heart stop for a second and he swears he cannot speak. He does not know what alarms him most, the idea of her dying or her confidence when she speaks of such things. As if she knows.
“Madam if it is a question of care—”
“It is not…it’s…it’s a reality for me Edward. I never envisioned lasting long after…well…after”
He cannot speak to that. He does not know what will happen if Anne goes before him. He does not think he will ever have the same marriage as he did with her but he thinks…he thinks he’s too much of a survivor to waste away after her.
(Also she would kill him for doing that. They have amassed a sheer amount of power between them and they are not giving that up for anyone or anything).
“Elizabeth…”
“Can I give you some advice?”
“Please”
“Get rid of Grey and Dudley, get them out of the council, get rid of them, burn them to the ground. Because they will burn you to the ground if you don’t. Do not give Mary to anyone who isn’t catholic. Do not even try it with Elizabeth—watch your brother with both Elizabeth and Katharine and…and take care.”
He hears what she is saying but he does not know what to do about it. She smiles as if she knows perfectly well he will not take his advice and he cannot help but feel like a failure for it.
But there is something he wants to ask her and he feels like now is the right time to ask her. Indeed…if what she is saying is true then this might be the only time that he can ever ask her and with this…honest answer he feels like he can move on.
Finally.
And so he takes a deep breath, and for better or for worse he asks.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course”
“If I’d have got there before Sir Anthony would you have looked twice at me?”
She looks at him flatly and Edward wonders weather or not she is going to lie to him. He does not care. And by now he is so beyond it, it does not matter. Because whatever she says here and now he is going to take as gospel until he is in the grave.
“I do not know. But…but I do not think I could have made you happy, not really”
“Yes you could have done”
“Then…then I do not know. I do not know if you could be you with me. Not the Edward Seymour history will remember. But…but Edward…it’s been one hell of a journey has it not”
He laughs and then he kisses her hand. He looks at her and he tells her everything with that look and her smile tells him that she will understands.
And that is all a man can do.
“Go to Anne”
“What’s the point”
“The point is, is that it’s your wife. The point is that you need her. The point is, is that you cannot be you with me.”
And he knows that she is right. History has already been written and all they can do is hope that whoever reads it will look back and look upon them fondly.
“Madam” he says finally. They are at court. He is her knight, she is his love and that is all that can ever be said between them. They have said…everything that can ever be said between them.
“Tell the King I am here. He can come and find me”
“Madam…he has commissioned a new portrait, Hans Holbein did the original one but he did not like it. So there is to be another one and…and he is discussing his will”
She nods and then just when he thought she could not surprise him any more she does. Because despite it all for one last time she calls him by his Christian name.
“Edward I need you to promise me something, and if your words have ever meant anything then you will do this for me”
He thinks if she asks him to kill the King now he will do it. His heart throbs a little bit more in love for her.
“Madam?”
“If he is about to go you will get me. Day or night. I need…if he goes before me I need to be there”
That he can do and so as she asks he leaves her there with a kiss on the hand and he goes his eyes burning with tears that he refuses to be shed.
It doesn’t take long.
He gets her three days later and by then it is over.
He does not even think to look for her until she is gone.
It’s Thomas Knivert who tells him, now His Grace the Duke of Sussex now a man grown. He looks like his father and Edward makes the appropriate gesture. Anne who is at his side holds his hand under the table. They are as one now. The unity between them is strong and unassailing and though his heart is breaking for the loss of the one woman he has devoted his heart to he knows that his country has to have him strong.
Already he is watching Grey and Dudley though he suspects it is too late.
“So what happens now?” Anne says once they are alone.
He takes her hand in his.
“We rule”
Anne nods. She was always practical.
It fails, all of it fails and he goes to the scaffold watching a silent crowd.
He is beyond it now. He made peace with his God a long time ago and he knows that he was outpaced, outflanked and outmatched. But he thinks it will not be his nephew that rules, the Seymour’s great gamble has failed. It will not be Mary but Elizabeth and he laughs as he thinks that Anne Boleyn will win the great game after all, after she turned the gambling table over.
He's surprised and oddly touched by the crowd that kneels to him and he thanks God that Anne is not here. If he knows his wife then he knows she is at his home barricading herself in and preparing herself for the fight.
But there is one person standing and though his memory has dimmed her from time he knows that he has been saving her full beauty for this moment.
Elizabeth.
She stands there her blonde hair over her shoulders in her blue gown and she smiles at him that confident, sexy little smile. Edward smiles back and though he thought he would close his eyes he cannot. He wants his last sight to be her. Because though she is Anthony’s heart and soul he knows he is going to a place where it doesn’t matter. In seeing her he knows he is going to heaven and for him that is all that matters.
Maybe history will remember him kindly.
He hopes so.
He keeps his eyes on her until the very end.
“On the count of three” comes a voice to his left and Elizabeth Tudor, Princess of York, Lady Knivert, Her Grace the Duchess of Sussex smiles at him once more.
“One. Two. Three…”