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𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒 over his mother's coffin, which is being kept in the church for the time being so everyone can pay their respects during the time of mourning for the Queen of England.
"I don't know how you came to England knowing you might never see your mother again," Harry says as Catherine walks into the room. His voice is gravelly as he tries to hold back tears, "I know it sounds foolish, but I'm afraid that she's - that she's cold down there."
Catherine is silent for a moment as she stands on the opposite side of the coffin. She reaches her hand out and brushes her fingers against Harry's, "In Spain. . .We have bullfights. We call them "the festival of the brave," because the bull is scared, a deity. When I was small, there was a bull of such strength and courageous heart that people from all over Spain could see him. He was called El Rey. The finest matador was picked to fight him, in the ring El Rey was gored once, twice, three times. . .but he did not go down. The fight continued late into the night, but El Rey wouldn't die. As the sun came up, the matador was so exhausted, he had to be carried out. But El Rey stood there, broken and bleeding, for six days he refused to die. On the seventh day, they summoned my mother, and she pardoned him. You are El Rey. You are wounded, but you remain standing."
In the time she spoke, she made her way to where Harry is standing. He turns around as she finishes. She manages a smile that has a seductive tone to it.
"Yes, I stand...for you," Harry says in a quiet voice. He lies through his teeth - he doesn't stand for Catherine, he stands for Alexandra. She gives him the strength to keep going, just by being alive.
"And soon we will be husband and wife. God willing," Catherine adds to which Harry gives the best smile he can muster.
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"My lady," Catherine bows when Lady Margaret barges into her room.
"The king tells me you have some devil's notion that you will marry Prince Harry, which is impossible, as you are his brother's widow," Lady Margaret exclaims, not waiting any time in revealing her motives.
"I am a maid," Catherine explains, "Our marriage was not consumma - "
"Yes, it was," Lady Margaret replies in a pleased tone, "I have eyes and ears all over England. I know if someone sneezes in Dorset or trips in Northumberland. The boy who brought you your firewood in Ludlow, he was mine, as was the girl who scrubbed the floors. Everything that happened there came back to me."
"Except the things they could not see, unless they see through walls," Catherine counters carefully, "I admit. . .there were some facts that we. . .engaged in for our pleasure. But Arthur couldn't - I am a virgin as I was when I first came to England."
"You! Do you swim in the same sin as your princess, or will you tell the truth?" Lady Margaret asks Lina, who stands a few yards away from the two women.
"It is true, my lady," Lina replies in the strongest tone she can.
"You were married many months," Lady Margaret counters angrily, "You want me to believe no natural acts between man and wife occurred?"
"It saddened both of us," Catherine replies coldly.
"And all the time we wondered if you were with child, you said not a word," Lady Margaret counters.
"I wanted to protect my husband's memory," Catherine argues, "Then the queen died and there was no time for Harry and I - "
"Oh, get out," Lady Margaret interrupts in a harsh tone.
"Perhaps my lady has forgotten that we are within my rooms," Catherine replies defiantly.
"Get out. You and your Spanish Harlem will leave my palace," Lady Margaret exclaims, her tone cold and unchanging.
"I am the Dowager Princess of Wales," Catherine replies in a frustrated tone, "You cannot simply throw me out."
"Yes, I can, and have," Lady Margaret says with a raise of her eyebrow. She silently dares the woman to challenge her.
"The king will not allow it."
"The king is indisposed and I am regent, which means from now, I am the king," Lady Margaret replies before she turns quickly and leaves the room.
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Harry and some of his friends are out in the gardens, playing ball games and laughing with one another. Alexandra watches nearby, holding baby Teddy in her arms. Some of the color has returned to her cheeks and her blond hair blows slightly with the gentle breeze.
The boys are pulled from their game as Lady Margaret requests Harry's presence. She stands far enough away so that no one can hear them. Alexandra watches with curiosity as they do.
"There is a rumor that this Spanish widow has set her sights on you, which is, of course, unthinkable," Lady Margarets says, not beating around the bush, as she looks directly in her grandson's eyes.
"We cannot not let such a valuable princess go to waste," Harry replies, knowing this moment would come sooner or later, "We need the Spanish treaty. If we don't take her then France will take her and their king - that fat King Louis - would have all that Spanish gold to use against us or to push me from my throne when I inherit it from Father. It may be Louis who musters up men against us."
"If a man shall take his brother's wife it is an unclean thing, and they will be childless. Leviticus," Lady Margaret quotes in response to Harry's words, clearly displeased by his thoughts.
"If brethren dwell together and one of them dies with no child, the wife of the dead shall not marry a stranger; her husband's brother shall take her as a wife and perform the duty of a husband. Deuteronomy," Harry counters with a triumphant look on his face.
"No. I mean, I-I am happy that you know your scriptures, but there are better choices for you," Lady Margaret replies in an annoyed voice, "There are other princesses to wed."
"There weren't for Arthur. The Spanish alliance was our Holy Grail. Has something changed?" Harry questions in displeasure as Alexandra tries to listen in on their conversation.
"Mm! She is despoiled," Lady Margaret exclaims, "She has lied to you?"
"You don't think I would know it if she had?" Harry asks, "Or do you think your intellect is sharper than my own?"
"No, of course, not I - "
"Well, then we are agreed," Harry says, finality in his tone, "You see there, Lady Grandmother, sometimes different roads lead to the same castle."
He starts to walk away when Lady Margaret grabs his arm.
"You don't have to agree with me, that's fine, but - just ask Alexandra what she thinks, before you do this. She always knows what's best for you."
