Chapter 50 – In which I began to build a future on the bodies of my enemies

"Tell me again, please, Mary!"

With a solemn smile I looked down upon my sister Elizabeth, now not so little anymore at 10 years of age. She looked sweet in her nightgown with the funny little hood, but I knew she wouldn't be sweet for much longer. The sharpness of her mind was ever growing, I could see it clearly even though I saw her only on rare occasions like this, when she was invited to court.

"You have heard the story so many times," I complained. "You need to sleep now."

"But it's my favourite, and no one else but you can tell it. Mary, do not make me beg."

I sighed.

"Fine, but just this one story, and then you'll be an obedient little princess and sleep tight."

She nodded eagerly. Her eyes lit up.

"Alright. Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a young girl."

"That's Catherine," Elizabeth blurted out.

I pretended to be miffed. "Are you telling the story or am I?"

"You're telling it, Mary. I'm sorry."

I nodded. "So, where was I? Ah, yes, there lived a young girl whose name was Catherine. Catherine was a bright girl, well read, and very clever. Soon, people began to notice her brightness, and talk of her marriage began. In the end, she was invited to the court of the grandest empress of her time."

My sister's red head shot out from underneath her blanket. "Elizabeth!"

"Yes, the Empress Elizabeth," I agreed in a half-scolding tone. "Elizabeth's only heir was her nephew, Peter, who was not a very good heir. He was lazy and childish and liked other countries better than his own. So the empress knew she would have to find him a good bride to make him a good emperor. For that reason, she chose Catherine, who excelled at literature, theology, and any other subject. Catherine studied hard to learn about her new people, and she was well loved for it."

Elizabeth smiled brightly at that.

"Then came the day when the old empress died, and Catherine's husband was crowned. She hoped the crown would make him grow up, but it didn't. Day by day his foolishness alienated more people in the country – the army, the church, the nobles. Soon Peter's actions threatened to turn the entire realm into open revolt."

"But revolting is unnatural," Elizabeth exclaimed.

I nodded. "So it is, sweet sister, yet what Peter did was also unnatural. And in their despair, the people whom he should have cared for, as God's law demands, turned to the only person that could help them." I paused dramatically.

Elizabeth took the cue. "Catherine!"

"Indeed. They made Catherine their one true empress, and everyone followed her. Peter was sent away from the capital and died soon after, but Catherine remained with the reins of power in her hands. She continued to govern her land justly and ably for many more years, expanding its territory, solving many social problems and bringing peace and justice to everyone. Even when she was still alive, the nobles of her country held a parliament to award her the title "the Great", and so she is known to legend."

"Catherine the Great," Elizabeth concluded. "Mary, do you think there could be an Elizabeth the Great, too?"

"Of course, if she was bright enough, and just as hardworking and fair as Catherine the Great. For a great mind, there is almost nothing that's impossible."

My little sister smiled. "Thank you, Mary. I'll sleep now, I promise."

"Good girl. Dream well, and don't forget your morning prayers."

She nodded very sternly and pulled her blanket higher up. I smiled, blew out her candles, and left them room. When I had just closed the door, however, my heart almost stopped. Someone appeared from behind me and startled me enormously.

"What a lovely story."

With my heart still beating, I turned around. "Your Majesty."

"Though I wonder why it is 'Catherine the Great', and not 'Elizabeth the Great', anyway," Queen Anne mused. "I wonder what message it sends to my daughter."

"But this is the legend. It is not made up, and I cannot change names by will. And besides, I think Elizabeth full well knows what message the story sends," I protested. "She can achieve greatness."

Anne nodded. "On that, we can both agree. But I came to see you about your proposal, which I am not sure I like. Please join me in the parlour so we may speak."

Having wanted this conversation anyway, I accepted and followed her.

"So… Sweden. Why, Mary, I must ask. What is there for us in Sweden? Your ideas for Edward, I must say I wholeheartedly supported, not only because Eleanor's mother once was a dear friend of mine. But Sweden?"

I frowned. "Your Majesty is not kindly disposed towards the match?"

"I am rather surprised," Anne sighed. "Sweden is no traditional ally of ours."

"But new traditions can be made. I was under the impression that you would be glad to offer your daughter to a reformist kingdom rather than, for example, the sons of my cousin the emperor."

"Why would you advocate that? Forgive me, Mary, but your beliefs are known to be very Catholic."

"Aside from the point that I can accept other people might believe differently," I said nodding. "I accept that your beliefs are not mine, and that you might be more inclined to side with King Gustav than with me. I also accept that Elizabeth will be influenced by you, rather than me. All I wish for her is to be safe, and happy, and to have a chance for greatness. She can be so much more than a Duchess of Orleans."

Anne bit her lip for a second, and I wondered what thought she was hiding. Then, she sighed again.

"What do you know about Gustav's son?"

"Prince Eric is of an age with Elizabeth, and the king's eldest son. He was raised a Protestant, but is not known to be zealous. My friends have not heard much about him, but what they said was not at all alarming. Apparently, he is a perfectly normal 10 year old boy."

"Yes, but would he be kind to Elizabeth? Would he include her in his rule?"

"Who knows?" I returned. "But I doubt he will be able to resist her charms forever. Elizabeth always finds a way to get what she wants, and no doubt this boy, too, will prove malleable. If we prepare her thus, she will wrap Eric and all of Sweden around her thumb just like Catherine the Great."

Anne smiled a half-smile. "And what if Eric turns out just like the Peter in your story?"

I returned the same smile, hiding the fact that I knew he would be just as useless as Peter, and that I was preparing Elizabeth for the inevitable already.

"Then Elizabeth will get her chance of becoming Elizabeth the Great. She has it in her, you know it."

"Of course I do. But is there anything we get in return except a crown for my daughter?"

"I wouldn't suggest the match if we didn't. Allow me to be honest, since we promised to trust each other – if we ally with Sweden now, we'll be able to form an alliance more powerful than either France or Spain. We can become more independent, and free from the need to be their plaything, to be used at will. Surely the King must have told you about the brink of war that we find ourselves on."

Anne's face darkened. "He means to attack France."

"And we don't want that to happen," I added, much to her surprise. "I abhor of any war, Your Majesty, even if I do not harbour the same feelings for the French as you do. Still, I want to abate it, and with the help of the Swedish, we might just do that."

"And that is your plan." Anne searched my face for any signs of what I was thinking. "How crafty you are, deciding your sister's future."

"I only have England's best interests at heart, and Elizabeth's."

She hesitated, but then she nodded. "I know that. I believe you, but you must understand how reluctant I am to do it. If someone tried to betroth little Harry, would you accept it?"

"I'd be reluctant too, but I would see reason. We are royalty, after all. You and I might be the exception, but we have to marry for strategic reasons rather than love. Besides, love is not all there is. Looking at Elizabeth, I think she would prefer a marriage that grants her political power over one that just flatters her and is all lovey-dovey."

"Unfortunately, you might be right on that, Mary. She is so clever, and so gifted. She should not waste her talents on sitting around in Orleans… well, Sweden it may be, then. I'll encourage the King to open up negotiations so we can see what Gustav has to say for himself."

I smiled. "Thank you for your trust."

"Still, there is one thing that makes me wonder – you are saying you wish to prevent war, even at the cost of antagonizing your own cousin, who has invited your father to join him in war. Still, I hear you have called the imperial ambassador to a private audience not once, but twice these past days. I wonder why that is?"

"I, um…" She had caught me off guard here! "I have reason to suspect he is being insincere, to me and towards others. That is why I spoke with him privately."

Anne frowned at me, clearly not completely sold on my story.

"I am already working on a solution to this matter, and if you put Elizabeth's Swedish match to the King, it might just help me sort it out. Say you will, please."

"I will," Anne affirmed. "I am beginning to like the idea after all. Elizabeth deserves a crown, and why not show the Vikings that they ought to have been ruled by the English after all?"

At that, we both smiled broadly, and agreed with each other.

What didn't agree with me, however, was the Chapuys situation I had tried to hide from Anne somewhat. After the conversations we've had, I was now certain that he had at least tried to rid himself of Ferrante and his influence on me, if not of me altogether. The man I had once thought an ally now proved that my father had been right all along – Chapuys was the emperor's servant first, and only supported Catherine and me out of pity when it served him. Now that I had begun working in England's interests rather than the Empire's, I was becoming a nuisance to him. But he was also becoming a nuisance to me, and I would act on it much more swiftly than he could ever dare.

Strike before you are struck.

So a day after Anne had accepted my proposal about Elizabeth, I had another fateful conversation in a dusty office room at court.

"You once refused to heed my advice, and the outcome almost plunged our country in chaos and destruction. Yet I was merciful, and never spoke to the king of your shortcomings in the whole Pilgrimage affair," I reminded Cromwell. He wanted to speak up now, but I interrupted him. "Surely now, Lord Cromwell, you have accepted my care for this country and will take my counsel in the future?"

"Your Highness, I am His Majesty's servant and yours second, and I am grateful for your mercy," Cromwell assured me.

I wasn't sure whether or not it was show, but I didn't care either. What I had to say would surely bring him back in line, no matter his real thoughts.

"Then I hereby advice you to begin an investigation into ambassador Chapuys. His dealings have not been in England's best interest as of late. In fact, I am afraid they might be seen as treasonous by many. And there are also rumours of past transgressions – transgressions of such enormity that only death can absolve a man from them."

Cromwell seemed reluctant. "Those are harsh words, Your Highness."

"They are, but nonetheless, they are the truth. As His Majesty's most loyal servant, I put it to you to uncover the whole matter, and I do not even seek credit for it. Surely the King will be very pleased if you do not desist and present him with the whole truth, however painful it may be. The reward, I am sure, will be rich."

His face betrayed the fact that he didn't trust my words at all.

"Your Highness would need to be more precise on the matter. What is it I am required to do?" His tone was still wary.

"Search his rooms and find evidence that he lied to the King, that there has never been an offer to join the emperor, and that Chapuys has only tempted the King for the betterment of the Emperor, who knows nothing of the matter. Find the evidence and present it to the King."

Cromwell's eyes darkened. "Even if there is none?"

"There will be if you see to it," I replied just as darkly.

"What if my conscience was too heavily burdened by such a task?"

I smiled. This was the moment I had expected. Slowly, I produced some letters from my pocket and handed them to him. I gave him a few heartbeats to quickly skim the papers. His eyes grew wide as he realized that, while the letters may be old, they gave undeniable proof that Chapuys had encouraged the Seymours long ago in their quest to put Jane Seymour on the throne. It was even clearly visible that he had advised them on procuring the poison that had killed Anne's child in the womb, and that he had rejoiced at hearing the deed was done.

Long ago, when I had investigated the death of my unborn brother, before I had faked Anne's death, these letters had come into my possession. That was when I had told Chapuys I knew, and when I had threatened him to stay out of all future plots and be my servant rather than the Emperor's. He had broken his side of the deal, now I would break mine.

"Make sure to find these in his apartments also. I do not presume to tell you just how incriminating this evidence is, and it is utterly genuine. Anything else you find will pale in comparison, but will be accepted."

Cromwell nodded breathlessly, obviously shocked by the evidence in his hands. "But… why would you ask me to investigate, Your Highness?"

"I could do it myself, certainly, but then I might also have to inform the King of your involvement in the plot to have the Queen removed, and my unborn brother killed," I said rather casually.

When that sank in, his face was bereft of blood. I took a step closer.

"I know you and your scheming killed my brother. You would have stood by and smiled as the queen was executed on trumped up charges, you would have seen my little siblings bastardized. Do not, for any second, be deluded into thinking I would accept a slight like that. It is terrible treason of the grandest kind," I said in an ice cold tone. "But I am willing to give you a chance, since you have proven so obedient since the Pilgrimage. Turn against Chapuys, and I shall swear unto God to forget about your involvement in the plot. When the ambassador atones for his sins, we shall put the matter behind us."

For once, I saw him speechless. I had basically threatened his life, and given him only one way out. His hands, though barely noticeable, were shaking.

"Do you accept my mercy, or would you rather hope for the King's?"

"I… I will make arrangements for the ambassador's chamber to be searched. Thoroughly. A traitor to the crown should never go unpunished."

I smiled darkly. "Never," I agreed. "I am very much pleased with our conversation, Lord Cromwell. We should converse more often, don't you think?"

He gulped, and nodded, and hastily bowed before leaving. I watched him go.

I had once sworn to myself I would see Chapuys and Cromwell either hanged or embarrassed in the streets for what they had done to my family. To make good on my promise to Chapuys, I had to let Cromwell off the hook. If I investigated instead of him, my father might make the connection between the suspicions about me in this whole affair, but if his trusted Cromwell did it… I had to use him to get what I wanted, and I was willing to forgive his involvement for it. A high price, but I was certain the outcome would do me justice.

And well, at least it was entertaining. And I mean that in a very sarcastic way – entertaining only if you enjoy my father throwing one of his livid temper tantrums. I had been discussing the plans for Anne's birthday celebration with him, my uncle Charles, and Anne herself when Cromwell came and informed the king about his findings.

Chapuys, he said, had never received a formal order by the emperor to offer Henry partnership in war. Rather, he had made all of it up in order to shine in front of his master by presenting a new ally. There would be no concessions on the side of the emperor. And to make matters worse, while investigating this matter, Cromwell's men had found other written evidence that proved Chapuys had been behind another, even more heinous plot – that against Anne and her babe long ago.

I swear, if he could, my father would have flipped the table when he heard. Instead, he jumped up so rashly his chair fell over, and he threw his goblet into a mirror on the other side of the room.

"That bastard! That abominable traitorous bastard! I want him hanged! I want him hanged, drawn and quartered!"

Anne had paled in shock at this revelation and was unable to stop my father's rage, and from what his face told me, Uncle Charles was utterly unwilling to do so.

My father yelled a few other curses and threw some more cutlery before ordering Cromwell to arrest Chapuys immediately. A court case would be opened, and letters to the emperor had to be sent.

"I swear, if he speaks against the man's execution, it'll be him I'll go to war with," my father proclaimed. "If he was behind that plot, I'll rip his heart out myself!"

"Sweetheart, we know nothing about the Emperor's involvement," Anne tried to calm him. "Let Cromwell find out for you, and decide then."

"That bastard, that fat-chinned bastard, of course he knew. Do you think Chapuys pulled it all off by himself? God, I wish we were at war with him right now. Brandon, how far have war preparations come? The mustering?"

My uncle cleared his throat. "Majesty, we had planned to be ready within the month. Messages have been sent to all shires."

"Good. Let that Spanish bastard answer quickly, or else he'll feel the might of English ships!"

"Perhaps war is not necessary to show the Emperor our disapproval," I chimed in. "I have it on good authority that the Spanish war preparation has been halted. The Dutch harbours have been closed recently in fear of Swedish pirates attacking Spanish ships, and all the Northern countries have issued embargoes on goods to and from the Holy Roman Empire."

The Queen nodded, and smiled at me. She saw where this was going. "It is King Gustav's work, apparently. You remember, we spoke about a possible betrothal to his son?"

My father, now a little calmer, nodded slowly. "Yes, the Swedish. A man of sound mind, it seems. Tell me again, what was his offer?"

"He asked for Elizabeth's hand to give to his son and heir, Prince Eric. He would even be willing to accept a more modest dowry in return for English support against the Holy Roman Emperor."

Anne carefully neglected to mention the matter of Protestant versus Catholic, for she full well knew Henry was still Catholic in doctrine.

"Good man. Tell him we accept."

For a second, all of us were stunned. Then, Charles was the first to speak.

"Are you certain, Your Majesty?"

"I am. Francis, the Emperor… these squabbling fools will never have any daughter of mine! They still harbour feelings of doubt about her legitimacy, I know it! They do not deserve Elizabeth. If the Swedish offer her a crown, and us an alliance, why not take them by their word?"

"Indeed. Our darling Elizabeth deserves to become a queen. She excels at every subject of her studies," Anne agreed.

"She is my jewel," Henry said, smiling at her. "It is decided. Elizabeth will be Queen of Sweden, and we will teach the Emperor that this is England, and he should not meddle in our affairs!"

When I told George that night how well our plan had worked out, he could barely believe it. His smile grew wide as I spoke, but when I had ended, something dark suddenly crept in.

"And this…"

"This?" I frowned.

"Do not misunderstand me, my love. I know you did what needed to be done, and I am glad for it. What you, what we are doing will make England stronger. The England we believe in will come to pass… still I can't help but wonder about the cost at which it comes."

I took his hand into mine and nodded. "There are many things I do not like about it either. Some of the things I had to do… and I know what will happen to Chapuys. Do you think it makes me a murderer? Did Katherine Howard make me a murderer? Is this what you're worrying about?"

"Actually I was more concerned about my niece," George replied, raising an eyebrow. "Will Sweden be good to her? Is this the path that was meant for her? I mean, in the past you know of…"

"None of this would have happened. Elizabeth would never marry and never find happiness."

He flinched somewhat. "This does not sound too promising. And you believe Sweden will be better?"

"Yes," I replied without a doubt. "To be honest… I was not entirely true about her prospective husband. Eric is… well. She might not have what we have, my heart. But if she is anything like the Elizabeth of history, she will not need that. She needs to be great, and I am doing everything within my power to ensure that Elizabeth will achieve greatness and still enjoy happiness – in or outside of her marriage."

"Oh, listen to you," he returned, and laughed. "Outside of her marriage! How inappropriate."

"About as inappropriate as fooling around with your uncle by marriage while guest in a foreign country," I laughed back. "So, do you agree with me now? Elizabeth will be well taken care of, do not worry. As will Edward, of that I'm sure. His future wife will benefit him. Renee's daughter is a lovely child."

George grinned and put his arms around me. "Always thrifty, my love. Who do you have in store for Nellie, I wonder?"

"Actually, I have begun to investigate…"

A kiss on my cheek and his closing embrace stopped me. "You, oh you!"

I wanted to return the sweetness, but somehow, it made me feel nauseous.

"George, please, you're wrenching my stomach," I said, freeing myself.

"But usually you do not mind my wrenching…" He smiled and tried to come closer again, but when I instinctively withdrew, he stopped. A frown came upon his face. "Are you truly unwell? Let me feel your forehead."

"I'm fine, truly." Actually, I wasn't, I was beginning to feel worse.

George wouldn't have it. He touched my head and afterwards felt my nodes just the way I had taught him to detect an infection.

"Nothing," he concluded. "But you look pale. I'll send a physician over. We cannot risk anything. What would this country do without you?"

I winked at him. "What would you do without me?" Then, taking his hand into mine, I added: "And if you must, also call a midwife. Let us hope for the best rather than fear the worst."

"I love the way you think, wife." He kissed my cheek. "Let us pray for a little girl with your beautiful eyes instead of a gastroente… gas…"

In search of help, he looked at me.

"Gastroenteritis."

"Exactly what I meant, my brilliant wife. Let us hope for a daughter with your eyes and wits."

We embraced each other and hoped. The physician and midwife found nothing, but the latter said it was too early to be sure, so I continued to hope. Despite all the dangers and darkness of these days, this hope began to become the most prominent thing on my mind. I continued to imagine a third child – strange, isn't it? Long ago, I could not even have imagined being a mother at all. The whole idea of pregnancy had once seemed alien to me (and to a certain extent still did). But now…

Now I loved my children. It might not seem that way to you, since I speak more about politics than my family. But they are private to me, and even though I disclose many of my secrets, Harry and Charlie are none of them. They are, they were, they will forever be dear to my heart. I have always done what I needed to keep them far from prying eyes.

And the idea of having a third one to love just like them was thrilling.

Thrilling enough to carry me through the darkness to come, such as when I journeyed to my mother to inform her about Chapuys. The Emperor had disavowed him completely, hoping to save his alliance to my father by acknowledging Chapuys's involvement in the plot against Anne long ago. A court, quickly assembled by Uncle Charles, had found Chapuys guilty of high treason and murder. I thought it best to break the news to my mother in person, since she still held the man in high regard.

She listened in absolute silence as I disclosed the whole story to her. I could see the changing emotions in her face – disbelief, pain, dismay, shock, anger… But when I had ended, she simply straightened her shoulders and said: "I will pray for his soul."

"Mother, if you wish, you could return to London with me. I can arrange for the two of you to speak in the Tower before…"

"There is nothing for us to speak about."

"I know you were always close…"

She turned her back to me, perhaps to hide her face.

"His Majesty's court has found him guilty. There is nothing for us to speak about. May God have mercy on his soul." She clenched her fist. "Will you be there to watch?"

"I had planned on doing so."

"Don't." Her voice sounded almost broken. "If God grants your wish for another babe, you should not see something like that. Care for yourself, mi hija. There is nothing more precious in this world than your children."

"Surely, mama. You are right. Do you… Can you send for a midwife? My nausea persists, so perhaps I might be blessed after all."

She turned around, and even though she smiled, I could see she was also close to tears.

"Of course, my sweet. I will make sure one is sent for. Will you stay with me until then?"

I nodded, and returned her half-sad smile.

So instead of seeing Chapuys one last time, instead of driving home the point that I had kept my promise to him and destroyed him in revenge for my brother's murder, instead of being the badass I enjoyed being – instead of all that, I stayed with my mother, held her hand, and listened to stories of her youth.

We received word of Chapuys's execution a day before the midwife finally confirmed I was with child. It was a strange day.

A few days later, I returned to London to my husband. I was so elated at the thought of having another child, so relieved that imperial machinations were no longer threatening me or my family. I was happy. When I returned to our chambers, I fell into George's arms bubbling out the fact that we'd have another child.

Only then did I notice the pain in his eyes.

"Are you not glad?"

"I am glad," he said in a sullen voice. "And grateful. Forgive me, I…

I raised an eyebrow. "George, what is it?"

He gulped. "My sister is dead."

Happy New Year, everyone! Feel free to review and give me your thoughts on the recent events. What about Mary's pregnancy? Will her plans for her siblings' marriages work out? Are you sorry for Chapuys's end? And what about the sadness of the last sentence?