Work Text:
Princess Mary Tudor hated her father’s court. Ever since the whore, Anne Boleyn, poisoned him against her mother and the true church, it was a nest of vipers. Even with the deaths of almost the entire Boleyn family and the heretic devil Thomas Cromwell, she still had many powerful enemies: the Seymours, Archbishop Cranmer, and her father’s newest whore/wife Kitty Howard. She knew that they were all waiting for her to fall from grace.
Mary believed (fervently hoped) that he loved her, but King Henry VIII could be very fickle and cruel. People fell in and out of favor so easily no matter who he/she was. Sometimes, the matter of innocence of guilt never entered his head. He never seemed to realize just how much he hurt people. She experienced it first hand when he separated her from her mother. She could never make herself believe that he did his most vile acts from choice. It was all about those heretics poisoning his mind.
Mary shook her head once. She tried to make peace with what happened to Katherine of Aragon. However, in the back of her mind, she was terrified she’d die alone and abandoned like her dear mother.
She straightened up and held her head high. No matter what her father said or the oath he forced her to sign, she was not a bastard. Katherine of Aragon was Henry’s lawful wife and she was his rightful heir.
Mary looked around and there were very few faces that she could trust. She locked eyes with her younger half-brother, Prince Edward. He smiled and it lit up his whole face. She couldn’t help but return it. He was such a sweet boy. It was heartbreaking that he was being raised a heretic.
An adult male hand landed on Edward’s shoulder and squeezed. The boy looked up and grinned up at his uncle Edward Seymour. Seymour knelt down and whispered into Edward’s ear. Edward squealed in delight and took off running, two of Seymour’s ladies in waiting following closely behind.
Mary met Seymour’s cold, calculating gaze. He smirked at her and a shiver ran up her spine. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him imperiously. He was a heretic. He should burn but they both knew he’d never fall from favor as long as he controlled the Prince of Wales.
Neither looked away for several long moments. Seymour was the first one to break eye contact. He scowled at the floor.
Mary allowed herself a small smile but it was short lived. Seymour was still Edward’s uncle and she was still, legally, a bastard. She swallowed bile and looked away.
Mary looked towards Henry’s throne but he was too busy talking to Charles Brandon to notice her. That didn’t stop Kitty from flashing her one of the cruelest smiles she’d ever seen. She managed a tight smile and inclined her head.
In her mind, Mary knew she should try to make peace with Kitty. She should try to show Kitty the proper respect as her stepmother and Queen of England. But Kitty was a frivolous little girl who had no right to sit in her mother’s or even Anne Boleyn’s shadow. At least Anne Boleyn had a brain. At least Anne Boleyn had conviction. Mary may have hated her but she could admit that.
Mary couldn’t bare to look at Kitty anymore. She lowered her eyes to the floor. Then she heard someone say that Cranmer would be back at court the next week.
Mary went to look out the window. She would be surrounded. All of her enemies in one place at one time, free to plot against her. Was that really the best that came from being back at court, supposedly back into Henry’s good graces?
“Princess Mary,” a soft, accented voice said from behind her.
Mary smiled and sighed in relief. She turned to face Ambassador Eustace Chapuys. “Your Excellency.” Her eyes darted to his cane and then back up to his face. His was a face she knew well, one of her oldest friends and the only one who’d supported her and her mother through everything. She gestured to a nearby chair. “Please.”
Eustace inclined his head respectfully and took the seat. He winced as he tried to get comfortable. “Are you well, my lady?”
Mary stood next to him. “I am. What about your leg?”
Eustace waved that off. “The gout bothers me a little.” He studied her. “Is there something wrong?” he asked quietly and kindly.
Mary pulled up a chair to sit next to him. “What makes you say that?”
Eustace smiled wryly. “The way you were standing.”
Mary shrugged. “Nothing more than usual.” She barely tilted her head towards Henry and Kitty. “What does he see in her?” she muttered.
“I agree on your opinion of the Queen.” Eustace held a hand up. “But…”
Mary arched an eyebrow at him. “But?”
“She is young. She makes him feel young.”
Mary frowned. “That hardly seems a good enough reason.”
Eustace shrugged. “He’s the King. In England, that’s enough.”
Music started playing. Kitty looked to Henry excitedly. He kissed her hand and gestured for her to go. She jumped up and joined the dance.
Eustace leaned closer to Mary. “Although I have heard some rumors that may ease your mind.”
“Yes?” Mary whispered.
“I have heard the King is beginning to wonder why the Queen is not with child.”
One end of Mary’s mouth quirked up. That was always the beginning of the end with her father’s wives. He was hungry for sons and if he didn’t get them, there was always hell to pay. “I wish I had your spies,” she teased barely loud enough for Eustace to hear.
Eustace faced straight ahead. His mouth barely twitched. “I do not know what you mean.”
Mary laughed. As long as she had Eustace behind her, things didn’t seem that bad.