The Other Wolsey (The Tudors Fanfic) DISCONTINUED

PART ONE: 1. In Cold Blood

PART ONE, CHAPTER ONE
IN COLD BLOOD (Now had Spelling and Grammar checked!)

"Fathers home!" I called rushing from the window past some servants to the front door. Lifting my dress of dark blue from my feet so I wouldn't trip over it or get it dusty from the gravel, I pulled the door open and quickly ran outside. My father climbed down from his horse and removed his gloves walking towards me.

"Your eminence," I said curtsying.

"Maria my darling." He smiled as I rose. He pulled me into a tight embrace kissing my cheek. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn't wish to wake you."

"That's perfectly alright father. What was so urgent that you only found out you had to be at this meeting at seven o'clock this morning?"

The smile left my fathers face and he sighed

"Walk and talk my darling. Walk and talk." He began walking already beckoning me to follow. He handed his gloves to a servant and we headed inside.

"Father, what's going on?" I asked as we climbed some stairs.

"Maria...the King has decided to declare war with France." He sighed. If I had not of reached the top of the steps as he spoke I might of most certainly fallen back down to the bottom.

"But King Francis-why?!" I finally managed to splutter

"French troops have murdered the ambassador in Urbino. He was the Kings uncle."

"Dear God." I gasped quickly making the sign of the cross.

"Naturally the young kings keen to gain a bit of battle glory so he wants to declare as early as possible. I have to arrange it regrettably."

"But father you and the French are keen allies. You always work in their interests." I said, confused, pushing the door to fathers office open. I should've known. Henry was a young king. His father was made a legend after snatching the crown of England away from the evil Richard the third at the Battle Bosworth in Leicester. Father removed his coat, handing it to another servant who left the room and closed the door behind him. Father sighed yet again.

"I have to work to the Kings interests. The French ambassador and Bishop Bonnivet are on their way over as we speak so make sure you are gracious. A lot, including this countries fate, is riding on this meeting." My father grimaced taking a seat at his desk looking for his quill.

"Yes father." I smiled curtsying again. That was my cue to leave.

"I know my darling girl you'll be perfect. You're a clever young lady, you always have been." He smiled.

"Well, I know where I got my intelligence from Father." I laughed. He chuckled.

"Educated ladies, particularly in France are now popular choices as brides Maria. I know we still have two years before we discuss betrothal but work hard. Intelligence is the means to success now, not just birth. Take it from me, butchers son to Lord-chancellor." Father said as he began writing something.

"I promise father. I'll meet you after the French have left." I replied. Father nodded but had now stopped thinking as a parent and returned to either the diplomat or chancellor part of his mind and was focused on whatever he was writing. I closed the door and headed away.

My father was Thomas Wolsey, the second most powerful man in England, besides King Henry the eighth. Father was the archbishop of York and a Cardinal in Rome. He'd become very powerful before my first birthday and had stayed that way ever since. He had been made the Bishop of Lincoln one month after I was born. I'd been born in February and he'd been made Bishop in the March, Archbishop and a Cardinal in September and Lord Chancellor when I was just one. He had caused some controversy as he was "married" (though the Catholic Church forbade priests, let alone bishops to have wives or any kind of romantic relationship) and had three children when he became the Bishop. My siblings Thomas and Dorothy did not live at Hampton Court, my home anymore. My brother had gone to a family in Willesden to be educated and my sister adopted and sent to a finishing school in a nunnery. What had convinced my father to not send me away still baffled me. He said that he fancied trying to tutor for himself, though I was certain he didn't know himself why I remained in the family unlike my siblings. I had no memory of my brother who I had last heard from six years earlier. He'd just wanted me to give him a good word to our father, which, despite being ten, I did laugh at and ignore. I told father he'd written but hadn't heard from him since. I'd had more contact with Dorothy when I was younger, but since she had left for the nunnery I hadn't heard so much from her. Sometimes I wondered what life would've been like if my siblings had remained at home with my father, my mother and I. Sometimes I wondered what my life would've become if father had made sure I had been adapted also.