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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 makes her way down one of the many corridors of Westminster, dressed in all black attire. Her nerves buzz as she moves closer and closer to seeing her sister. Her ladies, Rosa and Lina, follow behind her, wearing all black as well to symbolize their sadness for the fallen queen.
Everyone bows to her out of respect for her mourning. She takes notice of Philip, who flirts with the women of the court, before her attention is directed towards the Spanish ambassador.
"Princess Catherine. . .my condolences," the man says, bowing for the princess. He wears a sorrowful look on his face, his words showing the pity he has for the young woman.
Before Catherine can respond, Joanna's voice fills the air, as the queen comes up behind Catherine.
"You were a child when I last saw you," the queen says, looking Catherine up and down as the red-haired princess turns to her sister.
"Joanna," Catherine says, bowing before she looks at her sister, "Do you know how she passed?"
"She died of grief for our brother, John," Joanna replies coldly, "That's what they said, seven years of grieving for her favorite child."
"Sister," Catherine says, taking a step forward. Joanna is quick to take a step back though, seemingly not interested in physical contact, "May we not embrace?"
"Your husband died and Mother wouldn't bring you back to Spain until the king here paid your widow's jointure," Joanna says in a bored tone, "Always land and gold before her daughters, always her alliances. . .always God."
She stops when she sees Wolsey come up to the pair, "After our repast, tonight's mass for All Hallows will be dedicated to your mother."
Joanna scoffs with a side glance at the man, "You will have to drain your treasury to fund the mass our mother needs to save her soul. All the gold in Spain wouldn't be enough."
"That's a wicked thing to say," Catherine says, though her voice is weak. She still seems surprised by the coldness of Joanna's words and the lack of love she had for their mother.
"Oh, yes, that's right. You loved her," Joanna says, false amusement written over her face, "Well, I didn't because I knew her for the whore she was."
The queen turns to Wolsey, "We don't need your mass. Pray instead that our ship's mended by the morning so I can sail to Castile and my crown."
"Joanna," a voice comes down the hallway.
Everyone turns to see a smiling Alexandra, waving at the queen. Joanna smiles as well, making her way over to the princess and embracing her, before they turn and walk away.
Catherine looks beyond shocked, not knowing Joanna and Alexandra have been sending letters to each other for years. They both had a parent who didn't care for them too much and they bonded over that, amongst other things they had in common.
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It is later that night that the nobles of the court, along with the guests at court gather for a feast. Joanna and Alexandra converse with one another, along with others at court, including Joanna's husband, King Consort Philip.
Meanwhile, Harry pretends to be upset about the fact that Catherine can no longer marry him. He informs her gently as Alexandra advised.
When he sees her standing at the door frame, hesitant to come in, he makes his way over to her. Once he stands in front of her, he bows out of respect.
"I know you loved her very, very much," Harry says, looking down at the princess, keeping a few feet of distance between them.
"Yes," Catherine admits, "But it seems my sister didn't."
Harry is silent for a moment, before saying, "Now she is queen, my father says we cannot marry."
"He has written to the pope," Catherine objects, taking a step forward. Harry takes a step back in response.
"He says your father will not pay the dowry," Harry explains further, "Now that your mother is with God. And my grandmother adds that your rank has dropped too low to be wife to the king of England. But they are bloodless, all of them. What passion have they known?"
Before he can continue, Henry comes up behind him, placing a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
"Harry," the king says, "You must meet the Spanish royals."
"I thought I was addressing one already and offering her comfort in her grief," Harry replies as he looks to Catherine. Henry seems to let a little of his temper show at that, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders and pulling him in the throne room.
"You will be the king of England, and whether it please you, or it doesn't, you must make pleasantries with our royal guests," Henry says, in a low, threatening tone.
"I will meet them. . .because they will be family to me," Harry replies, looking his father in the eye. Henry gives him a glare before turning and going back to the guests.
Harry bows first, before leaving the princess, uttering, "Lady Catherine."
With that, he turns and leaves, joining his sister in the throne room. He smiles at her, kissing her cheek as a sign of respect and affection.
"Highness. . ." Lina trails off, coming up behind her Infanta.
"Lady Pole was right. This is a game that must be played," Catherine says, looking at all of the happy nobles in the room along with the royals who converse back and forth, "If my father will not pay my dowry, then my sister must."
She doesn't give her ladies any room to argue or voice their opinions, instead, she walks into the room full of nobles and royals, her head held high. She tries not to show how much her mother's death affects.
