Chapter Text
April 12, 1496
Scotland
Prince Richard had never believed in the concept of love at first sight. He knew that there was lust at first sight as he had lusted after many pretty ladies. And the young duke was aware that there were some rare incidents where love had happened at first sight such as his parents and although Edward denied it, Richard had long suspected that his older brother had fallen for Eleanor the moment her snowball had hit him.
But he had never expected to fall in love at first sight or in love at all for that matter. Lady Margaret Bryan had been a challenge and considering she was his first time his heart had a special spot for her. However, he had never loved her; not like Edward loved Eleanor or even like Thomas loved his wife. As for his other mistresses: they had been fun, but he had never had a deep connection with any of them and therefore his dalliances only lasted a few months at most.
That all changed when he met Lady Catherine Gordon. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was different than all the other ladies who had caught his fancy. From the moment they were introduced, Richard had known she was destined for him, not as a plaything but as his other half.
They had met when Richard had gone to Scotland as his brother’s proxy for the christening of his royal nephew: Prince James of Scots. The ceremony had ended and now Richard had joined the Scottish court at the feast thrown in the celebration of the new crown Prince.
He had been searching for a dance partner when their eyes met, and Richard was certain that he had never seen a more lovely creature as Lady Catherine in his life. He quickly made his way over to her, bowing as he approached her.
“My lady, forgive me for staring but I was struck dumb when I saw your breathtaking beauty,” he gushed, laying a kiss on her hand.
“That line might work in England, Your Highness, but I am afraid that us Scottish ladies are not so easily flattered,” Catherine told him, although her cheeks were turning a charming shade of pink.
“It is not flattery when it’s true,” Richard countered. “May I ask your name, my lady, so I may compose a thousand poems about you.”
“Lady Catherine Gordon,” Lady Catherine replied sweetly. “I need not ask who you are as your reputation proceeds you, my lord Duke of York.”
“I hope that what you have heard has not affected your judgement of me,” Richard said, half-joking. “Or if it has, I hope it is in a good way.”
“A very good way, Your Highness,” Catherine assured him coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
“Please call me Richard for I long to hear my name on your enticing lips,” Richard implored her, his eyes roaming her shapely figure. He licked his suddenly dry lips.
“Then you may call me Catherine,” the lady replied.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Catherine?” Richard asked, grinning widely, extending his hand for her to take.
“It would be my pleasure,” Catherine answered, placing her hand in Richard’s hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.
In just an evening, Richard decided that he had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
May 31, 1496
France
When the Count of Angoulême died, his children had become wards of the throne and it had been decided they would be brought up in the royal nursery alongside the one-year-old Princess of France. When he was old enough François would be a companion of Dauphin Edward but for now, he and his sister would be companions to Princess Anne who was only a month younger than the young count.
As the oldest of the three youngsters, Marguerite seemed to designate herself in charge of helping François and Anne learn how to talk and walk. Under the watchful eyes of the children’s governess not to mention Cecily and Louise, she held their hands as they both took tentative steps forward.
“She is so protective of them. Apparently, she had once shouted at her half-sister for running as she feared François might try to chase after her and hurt himself,” Louise remarked, smiling fondly at her daughter. When Cecily said nothing, Louise turned to look at the queen, noting she seemed perturbed by something. “Your Majesty, is there something amiss?”
“You’ll think I’m mad,” Cecily said, keeping her voice low so no one could overhear her.
“Tell me anyway,” the dowager countess prompted.
“The first time I ever held Anne in my arms I had a vision of her wearing the Queen’s crown with the man beside her wearing the crown of France, a man whose eyes looked very much like the eyes of your son,” Cecily explained, studying François as she spoke.
“My son will be king,” Louise repeated, her eyes wide and a smile threatening to split her face.
Cecily’s head whipped around, and she glared at the other woman. “My son will be king,” she hissed.
“Of course,” Louise agreed, averting her eyes, wondering why Cecily had even brought the matter up if she was going to get so angry about it. Of course, the idea of her son, her only son, dying in order for François to be King of France probably had something to do with it.
“That being said, I am a realist and I know that my sweet son is not the healthiest and my childbearing days are running out fast. If my vision is correct that means the Duke of Orléans will not be able to have a son either. However, he might have a daughter which means we will need to make sure he doesn’t get to marry his daughter to your son,” Cecily said firmly. “I think I will make a suggestion to Charles that Anne would make a fine bride for the Count of Angoulême.”
“Nothing would please me more,” Louise said softly.
Cecily stared at her for a moment, her expression grim. “You are my friend; Louise and I trust you. You better not betray my trust,” she threatened.
“What exactly do you expect me to do? If your vision is correct, all I have to do is wait,” Louise pointed out bluntly.
“Wait for the death of my son,” Cecily muttered, her lip curled up in disgust.
“It was your vision not mine,” Louise reminded her before adding a bleated “Majesty” just in case she was speaking too boldly.
“Well, you don’t have to be so excited about it,” Cecily snapped, looking back towards the children.
She watched Marguerite let go of François and Anne’s hands letting them walk for themselves. Anne nearly fell, only for François to catch her and help her stand.
It was enough to make the hardest of hearts melt and Louise was certain that if they did marry, their future marriage would be a happy one. And perhaps they would bring the golden age of France.
July 3, 1496
England
Edward felt like he hadn’t seen hair nor hide of his brother since the Duke of York returned from Scotland. Usually, Richard would partake in every activity of the court but for the past few months, he seemed to be spending more time in his apartments rather than mingle with the courtiers.
When he did grace the court with his presence, he seemed preoccupied with something but refused to share what it was with his brothers, assuring them it was nothing.
Edward was at a loss at what could be bothering his brother so much. Ali and Thomas on the other hand seemed to know almost instantly what was going on.
“Edward, I knew you were oblivious but honestly how could you possibly be missing the obvious signs? He’s acting just like you did when you were mooning over Eleanor,” Thomas teased him.
“I didn’t moon,” Edward protested, scowling at his older brother.
“What Tom is saying, Ned, is that Richard is in love,” Eleanor explained, putting her hand on Edward’s arm, and squeezing it.
“Dickon? In love?” Edward repeated skeptically. Although Richard was now a man of twenty, he still acted immature at times, always making light of every situation. God knew how much of a headache he caused Henry when Edward finally relented and gave him a seat on his privy council. Richard never got serious for anything let alone a woman.
“When I visited him a week ago, he was writing a letter to someone and judging from the crumpled pieces of parchment surrounding his feet, it wasn’t his first draft,” Thomas recounted. “And yesterday, a messenger came up to him with a letter from a Lady Catherine Gordon and you should have seen how his face lit up when he heard that.”
“According to the gossip my ladies picked up, Richard cut ties with his mistress, and he got absolutely furious when she asked him how he could leave her for some Scottish savage,” Eleanor added, smiling widely. “There is no doubt about it, your brother is head over heels.”
It was clear that both Thomas and Eleanor were pleased that Richard had fallen in love with a lady. Edward took a dimmer view of the events.
If Richard truly loved this lady, there was no doubt in Edward’s mind that he would ask permission to marry her. Edward would have granted permission readily, pleased that his younger brother was behaving responsibly and unwilling to stand in the way of his happiness. Unfortunately, there was a big problem: Katherine of Aragon, Richard’s fiancée.
Richard and Katherine would be married by proxy once the girl turned twelve. The marriage betrothal had already been signed. And what was worse, it was more than a promise between a man and a woman, it was a promise between two countries. They couldn’t just snub the King and Queen of Spain because Richard had fallen in love.
Edward dreaded having to tell his brother all this and he almost wanted to deny Richard entry when his groom announced that the Duke of York wanted an audience.
But as a king, he had a duty and God willing Richard would understand that whatever feelings he had for Lady Gordon, he had to put his duty over his heart.
With this thought in mind, Edward could barely master a smile when Richard came strolling into his audience chamber, grinning broadly. After pleasantries were exchanged, the Duke of York decided to get right to the point.
“I never believed in love at first sight, Ned. I tried to convince myself that she was a passing fancy,” Richard began. “But everyday I’m not with her, it’s like there is a piece of me missing. It’s like you and Eleanor.” If he noticed Edward wincing, he did not comment on it. “I know you’ll just love her. I only hope she’ll make me as happy as Eleanor makes you. I hope that you will give us your blessing.”
It wasn’t until he saw Richard’s expectant look, did Edward release that Dickon had assumed that Edward would immediately grant him his request. The Duke of York either didn’t think there would be any consequences to him marry Catherine Gordon or he didn’t care.
Either way, Edward couldn’t help but feel angered at Richard for being so…arrogant and insensitive. He had decided Catherine Gordon would be his wife and he expected everyone to just be happy about it.
“Of course, you have my blessing. Who cares if you make me look a liar and a cad to the King and Queen of Spain? Your happiness is of course more important than good relations with other kingdoms. In fact, I don’t care if they threaten to invade us for breaking a seven-year marriage agreement. And if my son won’t be able to marry the granddaughter of the Holy Roman Emperor because his uncle can’t think with anything above his neck than I shall make peace with that. After all, the world revolves around you!” Edward sneered, every word out of his mouth dripping with sarcasm as he gritted his teeth in frustration.
It took Richard a few minutes to regain the use of his tongue, shocked and hurt by his brother’s outburst. “Ned, I thought---”
“You thought because I am your brother that I would just grant you your request to marry Lady Gordon because I am supposed to allow you to act like an irresponsible child who doesn’t know the meaning of duty!” Edward exclaimed, stamping down the guilt he felt at look of despair on his little brother’s face. They were not children anymore and it was high time Richard stopped acting like one.
“Oh? Did you do your duty when you were engaged to Anne of Brittany?” Richard demanded, growing angry himself. Of all people, he had been certain that Edward would understand.
“If France had not intervened, I would have married her despite my feelings for Eleanor,” Edward replied, turning around so Richard could not see the pained look on his face, imagining how miserable he would have been without Eleanor. “Duty must come before the matters of the heart. Henry said----”
In hindsight mentioning Henry might have been a mistake.
“I DON’T CARE WHAT HENRY BLOODY TUDOR SAID!” Richard shouted, glaring at his brother. “I know you think that every word out of his mouth is the gospel truth, but I had hoped you wouldn’t listen to him over your flesh and blood.”
“He told me that sending you to Scotland was a mistake and yet I listened to you,” Edward snapped, unwilling to let his brother guilt him. “If I had known how much trouble it would have caused me, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“So that’s it then. You will force me to marry a child and be unhappy for the rest of my life,” Richard said angrily. “I guess we have nothing left to talk about.”
“If you can’t understand why, it is important that you marry the Spanish Princess than no we have nothing more to talk about,” Edward agreed.
Richard stormed out and slammed the door behind him, leaving Edward to sink down in his chair, remembering the conversation he had with Henry just days before.
“Duty comes before the matters of the heart,” Edward said firmly as he paced around the room. “That’s what I’ll tell him.”
“Try not to coddle him too much,” Henry muttered. “He isn’t a child, Your Majesty.”
“But he’s my brother and I want him to be happy,” Edward explained, his shoulders sagging.
“You and I love our wives very much, but we would have done our duty if we had to,” Henry pointed out. He then let out a heavy sigh. “Perhaps God knew this and that is why He rewarded us so greatly.”
“I’m sure that Richard understands the importance of duty. He’s probably already knowing that I won’t be able to say yes and has written list of arguments for why marrying Lady Gordon is the best option for all of us,” Edward predicted.
“Because the Duke of York is known for being logical and thinking things through,” the Duke of Richmond deadpanned.
“Do you have anything useful to add?” Edward asked, slightly irritated.
“Well, I might have a suggestion that may or may not work. The King of France’s son is roughly the same age as Katherine of Aragon so perhaps you might suggest to your friend that it would be prudent to make such a match especially when the Holy Roman Emperor has already married his son and daughter to Infante John and Infanta Joanna,” Henry told him. “I would suggest inviting your sister and her husband to England for a state visit and if the Duke of York will not be deterred from his course of action, we can introduce another suitor for the Spanish Princess.”
“Henry, if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were going soft,” Edward remarked.
“Not at all. I suspect that your brother might take matters in his own hands and elope causing an international incident,” Henry explained.
“Dickon would never do that to me,” Edward assured him.
“Richie,” Henry hissed, trying to keep his voice low so their governesses didn’t hear them. “Richie, I swear I will get you for this.”
“You insisted!” the Prince of Wales shot back.
“That was before I lost!” Henry exclaimed.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, Harry. We had a deal that whoever lost would have to sneak down to the kitchens and steal enough pastries for the both of us,” Richard reminded him. “A true knight doesn’t break his promise.”
Henry scowled. “Why can’t you do it? Nobody would ever think of punishing you,” he pointed out. The worse Richard would receive was a light scolding while Henry would probably be sent to his rooms without supper.
“Because I don’t know where the kitchen is, they’d be more likely to notice that I’ve disappeared and I won,” Richard told him, glaring right back at his friend.
“I hate to burst both of your bubbles, but we can hear every word you’re saying!” Margaret shouted, fed up with the antics of the two boys who seemed to think they were being subtle by whispering loudly when the other room’s occupants were only a few feet away. Beside her, Eleanor, Charles, and Jasper seemed to be trying to contain their laughter.
“What do you think, Joan, should we send someone to the kitchen to fetch some pastries to save little Harry from breaking his word?” Mistress Brandon asked the royal children’s governess, fighting a smile in an attempt to look somber.
“Hmm, well it will be a while before supper so I suppose we could allow them a treat just this once,” Lady Joan Bourchier agreed. “But let it be known that if either of you try sneaking off without any adult supervision, you will be severely punished.”
The two boys nodded in understanding, having the good grace to look shamefaced.
Before Mistress Brandon could put away her knitting and go to the kitchens to fetch pastries for the children, the Duke of Richmond strolled into the nursery, looking quite displeased.
“Margaret was that you I heard shouting?” he asked reprovingly. “I would think that my oldest daughter knows by now that ladies never raise their voices.”
“Sorry Papa,” Margret said apologetically. Although it was on the tip of her tongue to insist it was all Henry and Richard’s fault that she had lost her temper, she knew her father well enough to know he would not be impressed by her shifting the blame to two boys younger than her.
The older Henry patted her head in acknowledgment, kissing her cheek and ruffling Jasper’s hair before he turned his attention to his younger son and the Prince of Wales, noting their guilty expressions.
“Harry, have you been roping Rich into mischief again?” Richmond asked, an inquiring eyebrow raised.
“In all fairness, Father, Harry doesn’t need to twist Richie’s arms when treats are involved,” Jasper jested, trying to save Harry from a scolding. After all, like his younger brother pointed out, no one ever scolded the Prince of Wales.
The Duke of Richmond surveyed the two boys, thinking that it really didn’t matter who was twisting whose arm as they had been as thick as thieves since they had learned to talk.
Jasper might be the next Duke of Richmond, but Henry was well on his way to being the King’s closest companion.
“As much as I am eager to learn more about this incident, I came because I have some news, I wanted you all to hear first,” Richmond explained.
In truth, he had come here in hopes to avoid the Duke of York who had not taken his brother’s decision well and as usual instead of realizing that he overstepped he blamed Henry for it. And while Henry Tudor was not a cowardly man who liked to hide behind children, he had no intention of fighting with the younger duke, therefore he decided to be where Richard would least likely go when he was angry.
However, that did not mean, he wasn’t going to enjoy some time with his children, nieces, and nephews. Especially when the news he was going to tell them would most certainly excite them.
“The King and Queen of France will be coming to England for a state visit,” he explained.
“When?” Ellie asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought of meeting one of her father’s beloved older sisters.
“We haven’t set a date yet but perhaps Christmastide,” Henry answered her.
“Won’t that be exciting? We will get to meet a King and a Queen,” Ellie gushed, causing Margaret to give her a rather perplexed look. “Mama and Papa don’t count, we’ve already met them.”
“Um, where did Henry, Richard and Charles go?” Jasper asked, although he already had sneaky suspicion, he knew the answer.
His father, his governess and Lady Bourchier looked startled upon realizing that he was right that the three boys had managed to sneak out while everyone was distracted.
“I am going to kill them,” Margaret hissed.
The Duke of Richmond sighed, wondering how on Earth he and Edward had managed to sire such impulsive and foolhardy sons.
December 14, 1496
“Even with young Master Brandon’s help, the three boys still managed to get themselves lost. Luckily, they managed to find themselves outside the Queen’s apartments. Ali and I got a nasty fright when we learned that they were there without any sort of escort. But once we realized they were unharmed I turned to my darling queen and said there is no doubt that he is your son, Ali. The only way I could be more certain is if he threw a snowball at my face,” Edward finished, causing Charles to burst out laughing.
“My goodness, barely four-years-old and he is already full of mischief. I suppose he is much like his namesake,” Charles jested, clapping his friend on the back, taking advantage of them being in private to behave more casually with his friend. As far as he was concerned right now, they were two ordinary friends instead of two kings.
Edward tried not to flinch at the mention of his brother. After their fight, Richard had disappeared for three months and when he came back, he did the best he could to avoid interacting with Edward.
It hurt very much for his brother to treat him so coldly and there was a part of Edward that wanted to tell Richard of Henry’s suggestion, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up only to let him down when it didn’t work out.
“Speaking of Richard, there is something I wanted to discuss with you,” Edward began, clearing his throat.
“You mean to tell me that your sister was right, and you didn’t just invite us to catch up. You had ulterior motives,” Charles said with a mock-gasp, even putting a hand over his heart for effect.
Before Edward could respond, the herald announced that the Duke of York was requesting an audience.
“Charles, Ned, I hope I’m not intruding,” Richard said, slightly guilty. “I just didn’t want to miss out on this reunion.”
Edward practically beamed at his younger brother, pleased that he decided to put aside his anger and celebrate the three of them together again. It was like they were back in France where Richard had declared he would fight anyone who dared speak against his brother.
That memory flickered in the King’s mind as he threw an arm around Richard’s shoulders. “Of course, you’re not intruding, Dickon, I’m just glad you came.”
He then signaled for the groom to bring Richard a goblet of wine, letting go of his brother so he could clink their glasses together a gesture Charles copied.
“So, tell me, Dickon, what tales do you have to share? I am eager to know what mischief you have been up to,” Charles prompted.
Neither of the two kings noticed that Richard took a rather big gulp of his wine or that he had taken a step away from Edward.
“Well actually, I got married,” Richard told him, averting his eyes.
Charles looked delighted and was about to congratulate Richard when Edward dropped his goblet on the ground with a loud clank and the wine spilled all over his shoes.
“Oh---well---I---uh---- ---you know what, I’m the King of France: I’m just going to leave,” Charles decided, hurrying out the door, not even caring how his exit lacked any decorum.