The Italian Rose

Twenty-Seven

Isabella sat beside Charles's crib, watching how soundly he slept. She could not believe that two days ago, she had birthed him, and this morning, Charles was baptised in front of thousands. Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk was named godfather, and to the shock of everyone pre, aside from Henry, Princess Mary, and Anne Boleyn, Catherine of Aragon, Dowager Princess of Wales was named godmother.

"Should you not be resting?"
Isabella turned, wondering how long Henry had been standing there, a small smile upon her face as he walked towards her.

"I am." She replied, glancing back down at her son... Their son. "The physicians advise that I may not partake in horse rides, engage in sex or any sort of physical labour, but I can take short walks for my health."

Henry nodded. He, too, glanced down at the sleeping babe. "Has Mary visited him?"
"Yes, she came by this morning with Catherine," Isabella spoke, noticing that Charles began to stir from his slumber. "Mary said that he looked handsome and wanted to know when they could play."

Henry tucked a lock of hair behind Isabella's ear, earning a small look of confusion from the Queen. "You have given me a son. How shall I ever repay you?"

Henry had expected Isabella to ask for the removal of Anne Boleyn as his Maîtresse-en-titre, since any sons born from her could one day threaten the inheritance of Charles and any other prince that Isabella births.

"I do not know at this current time, Henry."
It was at this time that Charles let out a cry, Isabella bent down to pick him up, allowing him to latch on to a breast.

"He is such a strong child," Henry replied, brushing a finger against Charles's cheek as he suckled from his mother's breast. "It is as if he knows that he is Royalty."
"He is a Tudor."

The bittersweet moment was cut short as Isabella let out a hiss of pain, Henry quickly took hold of their child, a panicked expression upon his face.
"Bella, what is it?" He asked, placing Charles down in his crib. "What is wrong?"

"Do not worry, Henry, it is nothing but a small pain in my stomach." Isabella whispered as Henry eased her into a rocking chair, something that Henry himself built.

"Should I go fetch the physician?"

Isabella patted Henry's hand, shaking her head. "No, my body just needs to adapt not having a child inside it." She explained, rubbing her stomach softly. "The physicians will say that I may walk around."

"Then come," Henry replied, holding out his hand for Isabella to take, only she stared at him in confusion. "Let us take a walk around the courtyard."
"I do not want to leave Charles just yet, Henry."
A small smile came upon his face. "We will only be gone for half an hour at most, Bella, Lady Margaret Pole can watch him, that is one of the reasons why we both chose her."

Isabella sighed, glancing down at Charles. "I do not want him to be raised by ladies that are not his mother, Henry. I wish for our son and our future children to know me not just as Queen but as a mother."
Henry took hold of Isabella's hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. "You are his mother, Isabella," He said, smiling. "You will always be known as his Lady Mother, but for now, you must walk to ease the pain."

Isabella was still hesitant to leave, only for Henry to plea with her. "Please?"

It was said that was the second time that King Henry VIII had ever pleaded with anyone. The first was him pleading to God not to take away his son that he had with Catherine.

Isabella sighed, knowing that Henry was right, Charles would always know that she is his mother first before being Queen and so would their other future children.