The Life Of A Queen

Chapter 8

The French royal family and various fiancees for some of the yet unwed Valois children had just sat down for a family breakfast and had the finishing touches applied to their outfits for the day. Henry and Catherine sat on their thrones overlooking their court as nobles walked and talked and their children entertained themselves with each other and a ball whilst their playroom was being refurbished.
Mary, on a day of relatively mild Scottish politics, had arrived to the castle early and stepped behind Francis, on instinct, her grey and silver embroidered gown swooshing with the movement, as an English diplomat flanked by guards came into the throne room. The children had been replaced with teenagers, Francis of age to wed at fourteen, his fiancee just under two years behind him at twelve.
She reached for Francis' wrist from behind him, pulling him back a small step, just like she did when they were young and the small threat of a Grecian war sparked. The war called off at a truce some months later, the no violence pact signed two weeks later. They watched as Henry stood up and walked towards the English, flanked by guards of his own.
"George. What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of the English envoy.
"Majesty, forgive us. This visit is completely diplomatic in nature." George apologized, bowing to his majesty.
"Why are you here, frightening our children and unsettling our subjects?" he demanded. Call Henry what you will, but he was extremely protective when his children, and those whom he considered his own, were being threatened.
"I have summons, from King Edward, for Her Majesty, Mary, Queen of Scots." George extended a piece of parchment held by red wax with the royal English seal embedded into it.
Henry gestured and a guard stepped forward, touching all over the letter and reaching inside the fold to check for poison. Once he came out unscathed, he nodded to his king, who gestured for the little Queen to come forward. Slowly, she did, being understandably unsettled by the visit of the English, walking forwards to grab the letter. The war between Scotland and England had been going on for centuries, a mutual hatred settled in by stories from elder generations. Hell, the girl had spent her first almost six years despising the English and had been groomed into a warrior to bring them to their knees, not to mention the years of rough wooing and the religious hatred. She snapped the wax and read from the piece of paper, two paces from the English soldiers.
"His Majesty requests that you meet him on the border between Scotland and England, your majesty," George bowed to the tall young girl with a silver crown on her head.
"Does the letter say why?" Henry asked.
"He has an important message regarding me and the line of succession of England, that's all," Mary said softly, looking up into the King's eyes.
"Very well, tell your King that her Majesty will attend his mysterious meeting, however she will be flanked by French soldiers, as well as Scottish, in addition to my wife and I, should your king try to take matters into his own hands about the threat the future Queen of France possesses to his reign," Henry nodded once, dismissing him.
"Why are we here, father?" Francis asked, steadily riding his horse, flanked by hundreds of French and Scottish soldiers and his mother, all lead by his future bride. All wore armour bar the Queen of France, some soldiers carrying the Scottish flag, others carrying the French as they slowly rode through the snow that was laying on the ground of the brutal Scottish winter. They'd been here for around three months, awaiting Edward's long asked for request to come to light, celebrating the Queen's birthday with her subjects and getting to know their ally for the first time.
"Because, dauphin, your bride's cousin wishes to speak with her about the line of succession of England. He could be willing to give her the heirship, or she could face war over it. Mary and Elizabeth used to be reinstated at the heirs, but their brother took away that privilege long ago. They're illegitimate. Your wife, on the other hand, is legitimate. Who knows, my son?" Henry babbled a little, watching the young Queen of Scotland, Ireland and Wales and the ruler of the ìmpireachd nan gaisgeach, who had been nicknamed the Warrior Queen and the Enchantress by many of her foes and allies, lead the charge of French and Scots, Welsh and Irishmen alike, to meet their fate. Henry had always been power hungry and craved England, one of the main reasons he brought the young Queen to France and betrothed her to his son was because of her linage and the promise that one day, she would be Queen of England. It was just impossible to think otherwise.
The newly thirteen year old took a breath when she saw the legion of Englishmen lead by their king, some soldiers holding onto English flags and their coat of arms. She straightened up on her white stallion, her hip long raven hair straightened and falling all over her silver coat of armour. Her beautiful eyes sparkled in the light of the snow, the chill of the air making the ambiance tense.
Slowly, she encouraged her horse to walk on and moved her body in time with it, being flanked by the French and Scottish, until they reached thirty feet of the Englishmen. Deciding that was far enough, she stopped her white stallion directly in front of her fifteen year old English King of a cousin.
He moved his brown stallion closer to her, and she did the same, gingerly, however. They stopped ten feet of each other. Both dipped their heads in a bow-form, before straightening up and squaring their shoulders, arching their backs and raising their chins, looking straight into each others eyes.
"Cousin, I have called you here today to put an end to the turmoil between our countries." he announced. Mary nodded once.
"This is not a military incursion. I wish no more harm on your country. You and your people have proven your resilience time and again, beating back my fathers' constant battles to gain control of Scotland, Wales and Ireland." She nodded, giving him permission to continue.
"I wish for peace for my country, and I know you do to. I wish for the conflict to stop and the bitterness and resentment and the fear and the battles to stop. To not only benefit our countries, but our allies."
"I have long since disinherited my two half sisters from ever attaining the English crown. One will bring civil war, as she is considered a bastard. The bastard child of King Henry and the former Queen Anne. People will rise and there will be a power struggle, the monarchy dissolved, if my youngest, acknowledged sister, is crowned Queen. Elizabeth cannot take my throne when I'm dead. She will bring destruction to my beloved country, something I cannot allow to happen." She nodded again.
"Mary Tudor cannot be Queen. She is also considered a bastard, however had more of a claim than Elizabeth ever could have had. However, my privy council cannot allow her to take my throne. She is a catholic, and will bring religious hatred into my country, people will needlessly die, something I will not allow to happen." She nodded once.
"You, cousin, you however, you are different. So different. My supporters in Scotland murdered your mother, just like my ancestors murdered your father when you were but a babe. At six years old, forced to be a Queen, long before your time. I understand this, I was nine when I was forced to be King. You, however, you were forced out of your own country, countries, even, fleeing the danger that mine loomed over you all, constantly." She nodded once. All of this was true.
"We grew up far too quick, cousin," Edward said. She nodded again. It was true. He, a King of England at nine years. She, a Queen of Scotland at six days. Wales at four years. Ireland at five.
"You became a Queen at such a young age. Tolerant in religion and although many will not like a female monarch, being firm and fair in your ruling, your people all accept you. Any who do not will die. You have forced in a golden age, your countries' armies, navy and riches grow day by day. And in exactly one year, you will be wed to the second most powerful Prince in the world. Which is why, cousin, there is no other option, but you." She didn't nod. All of this was true, but the last didn't make sense.
"I am dying, my cousin. And it will be soon. I am not expected to see another winter. I have no wife. I have no children. No typical heirs. Which is why, I want you to take my place, as England's monarch, when I die."
There was an audible gasp and mummers from both side. Armour and weapons clinked and people talked in hushed tones. By the sounds of it, Edwards' people didn't know of this, either. Mary was stunned. She always knew that many wanted her on the throne, English protestants hated her with a passion, but more were turned, day by day, with the religious tolerance, things seemed to be swinging her way, but now the ball was in her court and she was stunned.
"Say the words, cousin. Vow them on record, before God and our people." Was the only thing she said.
"I, Edward VI of the Clan Tudor, King of England, here bye declare my cousin, Mary, Queen of Scotland, Wales and England, the heir to the English throne when I pass on from this life." he vowed.
"Your country will be safe in my hands, cousin. There will be peace and you and I will go down in history for the decision here today."