Chapter One:

There Should Have Been Blood

Urbino, Italy

Jack stared out the carriage window with a rather tense gaze. His shoulders were locked straight and he had not relaxed since they set out that morning. Those with him had asked if something was wrong, but he dismissed their questioning before they could even form a full sentence.

"Following that agenda your Grace has received a letter from his majesty, the King of England, this morning," his advisor informed him. He then began to unwrap the scroll in means of reading it.

"No," Jack said suddenly, turning towards him. He took the dispatch from the other man and tucked it into his coat. "I shall read anything from my brother or any other member of the English Court later," he told him with a definite tone.

"But it is from the King," the advisor protested, looking astonished. He was used to Jack's strange and sometimes disrespectful actions, but what if the letter was of great importance?

"And I am the King's brother. Do not forget your place, Sir. You answer to me," Jack emphasized. He put a hand to his chest and tightened his jaw, eyes narrowing.

The other man's eyes immediately fell and he bowed his head. "Of course, your Grace. Please do forgive me," his advisor beseeched.

Jack did not reply, but instead shifted his gaze back to the carriage window. It was a grim day in Italy. One would think almost the perfect setting for disaster to erupt, one ending in royal amounts of grief.

"Halt! What say you?" a man shouted from outside. It was their man, the one who lead the caravan of carriages. It was silent for a moment and then he screamed again, but with much more urgency in his voice. "I ordered thee to halt!"

"What could be going on?" his advisor sighed. He then sat up to look out the window. Just as he did his eyes widened. "Your Grace, it is the French!" he whispered urgently.

Jack then heard the sound of horses galloping and shouts of many men. He stayed calm though and slowly edged towards the other door of his carriage.

"They are attacking us, your Grace! We must—" His advisor turned to look back at him and frowned. "Your Grace, where are you going?"

"Not where you are," Jack replied. He then lifted his foot and kicked the man as hard as he could out of the carriage and straight onto a sword of the Frenchman waiting outside. He then turned and climbed out the opposite side of his carriage, as planned.

"Your Grace, the French are attacking," a servant man shouted, latching onto Jack with a crazed look of fear in his eyes.

"I have heard! Now come along!" Jack seethed. He then dragged the man with him into the woods, hiding between the trees. Once far enough, both he and the man turned to look back at the gruesome sight. All carriages were being destroyed and bodies lied bloodied on the ground. Only one carriage was left and the attackers were now circling around it, ready to pounce.

"The Prince's carriage," the servant man gasped. He then turned to Jack with a dire look in his eyes. "We must go back, your Grace. We are to defend him with our life," he urged.

Jack only stared at him though, and then back at the carriage, which had been set on fire. He shook his head. "I have no cause to save a dead man. Now come along, servant."

The man looked horrified, but listened to order. He started down the path, only stopping when he realized his master had.

Jack looked back once more at the burning carriage. He smirked, "The Prince of England and only heir of King Bartholomew is dead."

XOXOXOXOXO

Whitehall Palace, London

Bart entered the throne room with a most rigid of postures and darkest of eyes. All the highest members of Court had gathered. Everyone was shouting and arguing with each other over what had happened and in turn what would be done about it. Then he saw his brother, Jack, right in the middle of it. He stood high, on a table as he silenced the room.

Bart looked to his servant with a staff and shook his head. He did not want to be announced, but to examine what was going on first. He went unnoticed.

"I come to you today as the sole survivor!" Jack shouted. He was passionate; his hand beat hard against his chest as his eyes moved to everyone in the room. "My men, the good men of England, were attacked and murdered in Italy by the French!" he furthered.

"Bloody bastards!" a man from the crowd shouted. Everyone else in the room urged him on with cries of hate.

Jack nodded and held up his hands. They silenced again. "They came upon us from behind, like the true cowards they are! They came—" He paused and looked pained. "They came to murder our Prince and in turn the future of our people!"

"How dare they?" another man screamed. The crowd once again supported his outburst and all cheered in a savage agreement.

"Yes, how dare they," Jack nodded. He then pointed his finger to the people. "You, the good people of England, can surely see this is a just cause for war! We need to show the French that we shall seek vengeance!"

Everyone began to cheer and Jack smiled. He then turned though to see Bart and his face fell. He bowed his head and got down from the table. The room silenced, all turning towards the King, as they dropped to their knees as well.

Bart looked at all of them with icy blue eyes and an eerie silence. He stepped into the middle of the room, practically meeting the eyes of every man. Then he raised his hand. "Is my son dead?" he bellowed.

The room was silent.

"I said is my son, your Prince, dead?" Bart screamed with full force. He was shaking with a sense of lividness.

Finally, Jack stepped forth. "His carriage was burnt to the ground. I did not see an escape. In trying to rescue him even my own servant was murdered," he told him in a seemingly grim voice.

Bart turned his back to the crowd and grasped his throne for a moment. He looked as if he would fall over and even his servant moved to help him. "No," Bart uttered and held up his hand. His servant halted. The King then turned back around to face the crowd.

Bart then began to make the announcement. "If the French took my son then war is—"

The doors burst open and Bart silenced. Everyone turned to see the Duke Archibald and his son, Nathaniel. They both bowed.

Then the Duke walked up to the King. "Your majesty, forgive me for interrupting, but I bring urgent news. I have just heard word from Italy that the Prince of England, your son Charles, was not in his carriage when it set out that morning," Duke Archibald told him, sounding out of breath.

Bart's eyes widened and he held a hand to his heart.

"That is impossible!" Jack outburst and stepped forth in front of the King as well. He shook his head and scoffed. He appeared very unhappy.

Bart immediately looked to him. "Jack, did you or did you not see Charles get into the carriage?" he demanded. His eyes threatened him to be certain.

Jack stared at him for a moment. Then he shook his head and turned away.

Bart sighed in relief and mumbled a prayer under his breath. Then he looked back to the crowd. "No war yet, not until my son, the Prince of England, is found!" he proclaimed.

No one in the crowd dared to protest, not even Jack.

Bart nodded, "You are all dismissed." He then turned and disappeared through the curtains behind his throne.

The crowd slowly began to talk, a low murmur sound about the room. Jack made his way through them, but stopped to glare at Duke Archibald.

Nate, who watched, looked for his father's reaction. The Duke only bowed his head though and then allowed Jack to storm out of the room. He shook his head, "Now if we only could know where his highness truly is."

Nate sighed, "If you could grant me only one guess, father."

XOXOXOXOXO

Urbino, Italy

"Wake-up, your highness," a girl's voice whispered in the most playful of tones.

Chuck who lied half-asleep on his back, batted his eyes open. He felt feminine fingertips trailing over his back while those of another used a feather to tickle the skin of his cheek.

"Yes, our beautiful Prince of England," the other girl giggled.

He smirked and opened his eyes fully. Both girls kneeled before the bed smiling at him. They were two beautiful women of the Italian Court had had brought back to his chambers the night before.

Chuck laughed and shot up suddenly. Both girls giggled and backed away from him. "Who shall be first?" he asked. He then grabbed onto the pole and swung himself off and around the bed to chase them.

They screamed in giggles and ran to get on the bed. One succeeded, but the other one was grabbed from behind.

Chuck immediately began to pull off her rather thin nightgown and kicked it to the floor. He then pushed her down onto the bed, so that she lied on her stomach. He fell down on top of her and moved her hair to kiss the back of her neck. Then he rose again and positioned himself for entry.

He began to thrust into her, first quickly and anxiously, but then slowly and powerfully. The girl moaned in delight and her eyes rolled back into her head. He looked to the ceiling and released a sigh of pure sexual relief.

He felt the other girl wrap her arms around him from behind. He smirked and continued to penetrate the one on the bed while the other kissed his neck.

"His highness is so powerful. I want a turn," she begged in his ear. Her voice was a whine, but that of a tantalizing one.

Chuck nodded and shoved the other girl forward as he pulled out. He turned and yanked the one standing towards him. He kissed her on her lips feverishly as his hands reached under her thighs to hoist her upwards. He had just thrown her onto the bed when the doors suddenly opened.

"Your high—"

Chuck looked up, first angered for being interrupted. He then saw it was his servant from England he had brought. He smirked and said breathlessly, "Young Daniel, why have you come at such an early hour?"

Dan averted his eyes away from the naked women immediately. Instead he looked down and nodded his head. "To prove that you are not dead, your highness," he answered.

"Oh shit," Chuck sighed as his face fell.

Dan nodded, "Whenever you are ready to return to England, your highness. I do find it my duty to remind you that it is something the King, your father, deems of great importance." He then bowed and turned to leave.

"Yes," Chuck nodded. He then laughed and called after him right before the doors closed. "And to think, I was just starting to have fun!"

XOXOXOXOXO

Hampton Court, Surrey

"I am sure Charles is fine. Please do not despair, your majesty," Lily whispered in the most soothing of voices. She stood behind Bart and kept one hand on his shoulder as the other stroked his cheek. They were alone in his study and she saw it her duty to comfort him. She was his only mistress after all.

Bart did not utter a word in response. Instead he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. His tight hold on the arms of his chair let up some and his back relaxed. He was by no means completely at ease, but only momentarily subdued.

A loud knock sounded on the large door.

"Enter," Bart allowed and opened his eyes again. He sat up straight in his chair and felt Lily take a proper position. Then he watched as two of his most respected men entered the room.

"Cardinal Wolsey and Duke Archibald, what say you?" Bart asked. He then motioned for them to sit in the two chairs across from him. Both men bowed before doing so.

"Your majesty, I bring word that your army and fleet are assembling. If you so wished England could go to war with France in a matter of weeks," Howard, or Duke Archibald, reported.

"Very good," Bart sighed. He then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was on the fence about war with France. For him, most of it relied on whether his son was alive…or dead.

"Still, we have come to beseech that your majesty remember the many tragedies war can bring. France's army is now well equip and in order for England to stand so powerfully against it as in the past—taxes would need to be raised," Cardinal Wolsey told him. He shook his head. "Your majesty knows that is not always so popular with the common people."

"Yes, I am well aware," Bart refuted. He then looked to both men and shook his head. "However, neither you or any countryman of England can deny action need be taken if they have killed my son, my heir, your Prince. How could I ever simply excuse it?" His voice was low and tense.

Howard nodded, "Of course, your majesty, but—"

"But what?" Bart questioned, his voice rising in volume.

Duke Archibald paused for a moment and then prepared to speak. "I have it on good authority that there is reason to believe that a form of foul play took place in Italy. It seems the French soldiers who attacked the Royal English carriages were only imposters. The King of France backs up this statement by denying any order against your majesty and his family," he divulged.

"Well he would, would he not?" Bart returned. He would be hard to reason with until he saw his son standing physically before him.

Cardinal Wolsey noted the strained feel of the room and decided it best to cut in. He cleared his throat. "Your majesty, all we ask is that if the Prince is not dead that this investigation proceed and that your majesty also find way to mend relations with France," he preached.

Bart turned to him. "Well Cardinal, in theory, how shall I do that?" His eyebrows rose in question and lips pursed.

The Cardinal exchanged a look with Duke Archibald and then met the King's eyes once more. "With marriage, your majesty," he answered.

Lily immediately looked down to Bart for his reaction. Surprisingly he was rather calm, but just much more rigid like before.

Bart leaned forward and lowered his voice. He shook his head, "You both very well know that I swore to never take another Queen after the passing of my most beloved wife, much less a French one."

"She is not French, your majesty. She was born in England and is only residing in Paris momentarily with her son, Thomas Gray, the first Earl of Essex. She is Catherine Gray, Duchess of Somerset, but more importantly she holds the respect of both the French and English people," Cardinal Wolsey explained.

"Yes," Bart nodded, "I remember word of her late husband. He was a very respected man." He then leaned back in his chair and sighed, trying to think.

His moment to reflect soon ended though when the doors flew open to reveal a frantic looking servant, Rufus Humphrey. He put a hand to his chest and bowed. "Forgive me for intruding your majesty, but the Prince arrived to Hampton Court early this morning and I have just been given word," he announced, sounding gravely out of breath.

"That boy," Bart seethed and stood abruptly. It was entirely in his son's behavior to do what had just been reported to him. He then went to leave, but saw Cardinal Wolsey and Duke Archibald stand and bow.

He nodded to the Cardinal. "Gather all the arrangements for the offering of my engagement and marriage. I no longer have cause to go to war with France, but only perhaps with my son," Bart called out and then left the room.

"Of course, your majesty," Cardinal Wolsey replied back to him. He and Duke Archibald then took their exit as well.

Lily watched all of them go, particularly the King, with hurt displayed upon her countenance. She wished to go after him, but knew it was not at all wise. So instead she stayed behind and averted her gaze to the still open door. There she met the eyes of Rufus Humphrey.

"Lady Lily," Rufus bowed.

"Sir Humphrey," Lily returned. She then turned away from him and pretended to look out the window instead. She heard the door shut when he left, leaving her completely alone.

XOXOXOXOXO

Chuck laughed loudly, racquet in hand, as he hit the leather ball with all his might. It flew way over the net, across the Royal Indoor Tennis Court. It passed both men on the other side and the bell rang to let all watching know he scored a point. The people behind the net, members of Court, cheered for him.

"Another one for his majesty!" Nate called out with a chuckle of his own. He smiled at Chuck, both breathing heavily, as the Prince patted him on the back.

"And to think, Dear Nathaniel that mere hours ago I had just escaped being killed in the name of sex," Chuck replied with an amused smirk. Both men laughed much louder then in union.

Chuck then turned and looked across to the other players, also men he kept close in Court. "Another game then, if you're up for it that is?" he asked with the smuggest of grins.

"Please," Edmund shouted back, "We were letting his highness win. After all, he did arrive from Italy just this morning!" He then chortled.

His teammate walked in front of him though and shook his head with a smile. "Actually I was playing as hard as I could," William jested. He then winked at Chuck, happy when the Prince smiled in approval.

"Speaking of your arrival," Nate remarked as he position himself next to Chuck, "How is it you haven't told your father, the King of England—especially given what has happened?"

Chuck rolled his eyes and sighed, "Please Nathaniel, allow me a bit of fun first. You know how much I like to put off my father's Royal scolding."

Nate nodded with another chuckle. "That I do. As for your fun, I believe that was what started the most of this—other than your planned assassination of course," he noted.

"Like the French could assassinate anyone, especially the Prince of England. It is nothing, but an insult in that they underestimated the strength of my Country," Chuck returned, still not fazed in the least.

"Not strength your grace, but your stamina," Nate corrected once more in a joking, but still serious manner. Both boys laughed yet again. Then Nate stopped though and nudged Chuck. "Look over there, do you see her?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "There are many hers, Nathaniel. Please do me more specific for which Lady of the Court your eye has drawn to," he told him.

"Her," Nate said yet again. He then grabbed onto Chuck and pointed directly at the young blonde girl. "In the blue dress, hair of gold, and breasts the size of sweet melons."

"Who is she?" Chuck countered with the loudest of laughs. "Not that it seems to matter to you."

"It does," Nate replied with slight defense, but then smiled. He hit the ball with his racquet before answering. "Her name is Serena Van der Woodsen. She is a mere Lady, but more importantly the daughter of your father's mistress," he told him in a low voice.

"Lady Lily?" Chuck asked, eyebrows rising. Nate nodded and the Prince patted his shoulder. "Well, not that you asked, but you can gladly have her."

"Yes, well we of course know you have a taste for brunettes, your highness," Nate replied coolly. He then hit the ball again.

Chuck smirked for a moment, but then shook his head. "Not at all, Nathaniel. I enjoy all Gods heavenly, divine creatures," he corrected.

Suddenly the sound of the Royal staff hard against the wood sounded throughout the room. The game stopped and the crowd silenced. All, including Chuck, turned towards the doorway.

"Prince Charles, the King of England, your father, request you come to him at once!" the Royal messenger announced.

Nate turned to Chuck and bowed. "Good luck, your highness," he jested.

"This should be good," Chuck returned. Then he hurried across the Court. Everyone in the room bowed as he left the room.

XOXOXOXOXO

Chuck entered the throne room with a rather large smirk. He had not gone straight to his father, but instead bathed and dressed. He was the Prince of England after all and would do what he wanted. Plus he thought his father would just be relieved to see not his son, but his heir still alive no matter the situation.

"Prince Charles of England," the servant announced and banged the Royal staff against the hardwood floor.

"Uncle Jack, I heard you ran into trouble, involving the French," Chuck joked as he passed his uncle and patted him on the back.

Jack turned to face Chuck, not even hiding his bitter expression. All he saw was that the little bastard was still alive. How was he still alive?

"That is not certain now. It seems some fabricated plans were drawn up to have you killed," Bart interrupted. He stood from his throne and looked down at his son with the most serious of expressions. All signs of relief he had hidden from his facial features.

"Father," Chuck greeted with a bow. He then stood back up straight and shrugged. "Well," he smiled, "as you can see I was not killed."

"Yes, though some may say you deserve such a fate for what you were doing instead. Both of those women had husbands high in the Italian Court. The Emperor is furious," Bart retorted, shaking his head.

Chuck smirked, "Well then I suppose I should be glad since he is also furious with France, who actually had no partake in my plotted death. Correct?" He then began to laugh.

"Have you no understanding of this situation? You are to be the King of England one day yet you still act as an insolent child!" Bart bellowed.

Chuck instantly silenced and his gaze averted away from Bart's. He looked to the other men in the room, but they turned away from him. After a few moments, he sighed, "Forgive me, your majesty."

Bart only shook his head. "What would it matter? You do not even know what I should forgive you for," he recognized with a tired sounding sigh.

"Well I am free to go then, aren't I?" Chuck then bowed and quickly began to walk away. He was stupid to think his father would be happy that he was merely alive. Apparently Chuck didn't even escape death right.

"I did not dismiss you!" Bart called after him.

Chuck halted and turned back around.

His father stared at him for a few moments and then sat down in his throne. "You should also know I am to be married in order to calm relations with France," Bart informed him.

"You cannot be serious!" Chuck retorted. He moved towards his father, eyes narrowed and a fist clenched at his side.

"I am," Bart replied.

"Well then your majesty is a hypocrite! He scolds me for having relations with young women of court yet he shall now marry to replace his late wife, my mother—" Chuck started to criticize, but was cut off.

"How dare you speak to me that way!" Bart stood and shoo his finger at Chuck. "She is of proper age, even respectfully married before and the mother of a proud son. As for your opinion though, I do not want it nor do I need it. Be gone with you," he ordered, dismissing all talk of Chuck bringing up his mother.

Chuck glared, "Fine." He then turned on his heel quickly and started his leave. Just before he had made it out he heard his father one last time.

"They shall be arriving in the month, if you care to know!"

"No, not at all, father!" Chuck shouted back before he stormed from the room completely.

XOXOXOXOXO

A/N: So how was it? Should I continue? Also do not despair about the absence of our favorite brunette, well favorite female brunette. Lady Blair Waldorf will be introduced in the next chapter. I am writing this while watching Season 1 of the Tudors so of course that is what is inspiring me. So think that time period. Now before you go I ask that you read my notes below, please.

Things You Need to Know When Reading This Story:

~ Characters are not to appear OOC, but due to the time period this story is set in (think Tudor) certain aspects of their personalities have been heightened. Nate is a great example. Also remember this story will cover a great amount of time and characters will grow, mature, etc.

~ This story is and will be very MATURE. I shall keep it at the "Teen Rating Level" until I think it should be set to mature. However, know that it will be at some point.

~ Please take notice that time obviously passes between some scenes and chapters. It is up to you to make logical estimates. I will seldom say something like, "Twelve days have passed" unless it is important for a character in the story to acknowledge.

~ Keep your mind in the time period. There will be executions in this story, some you may deem just and others you may not. But they will be there regardless. I'm certainly not saying you have to like them or dislike them, but asking that you recognize their correlation to the time period.