Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors.

Chapter Fifty-Five: Disgraced.

5th of May 1534 - Château de Cognac

Clasping her hands in front of her, Eleanor of Austria whispered in prayer and kept her eyes fixed on the cross at the altar; she paid no mind to those around her knowing that her fate was sealed and soon she would no longer be the Queen of France. The months since the news had come to her that Francis had petitioned the Pope for a divorce on the grounds of Coercion and the fact that he feared that the illness that her family carried would spread to any children.

Eleanor cursed her aunt, it had been Katherine's actions that had doomed them all and she had no doubts that even her own beloved daughter back in Portugal would be tainted by this. It had been many years since Eleanor had seen Maria, she had done what Charles had asked of her and had done her duty to her family when she had married Francis but it had come at a cost.

Perhaps now she was no longer Queen of France, then she would be permitted to travel to Portugal once she had returned to her brother's court in disgrace and see her daughter again. Her thoughts turned to her own mother who had been declared insane by Ferdinand and then her brother, she remained locked away in a nunnery now and her sister shared her fate in England.

Eleanor could not deny that in these months she wondered if she too would end up in a nunnery, locked away from the world and declared mad like the other woman in her family so that she would not cause problems. Her hands trembled at the thought, her brother had requested that no one would speak with their mother in her confinement as no good would come from it; Eleanor had to wonder what he would say about her.

There were whispers about her great grandmother, Isabella of Portugal, Queen of Castile had been insane and that was where the insanity came from that now inflicted her mother and aunt. Crossing herself and raising to her feet, Eleanor stared at the Cross on the altar knowing that her fate was in God's hand; she wished only to see her daughter and that perhaps her brother would be kind to her.

Turning around to exit the chapel, Eleanor paused at the sight of the Dauphin waiting to speak with her; a frown set upon his face doing little to offer her comfort. Francis III, Duke of Brittany was a sombre man with solitary taste, he dressed in black more like the Spanish and many put that down to the time he spent in captivity in Madrid under the orders of her brother.

He was a rather bookish man compared to his brothers after what had happened and Eleanor knew that her brother had not taken great care of the French Prince and his brother while they had been in his care. The two boys having been held in damp, dank cells for nearly three years before the treaty that had resulted in her becoming Queen Consort of France had been signed.

"Your Highness?" Eleanor greeted softly, her eyes searching his face in hope of answers on why he had come to her; she did not see many people these days, keeping herself out of the sight of the people since Francis had announced his intentions. The last thing that Eleanor wished to do was make herself a Martyr in anyway, people despised her for her Habsburg blood and what her brother had done.

"My Lady. I have come with news," the Dauphin stated, he had volunteered to come to break the news to her; he felt it would be kinder to hear the news from him than any of his father's men. He would break it kinder than they would, he pitied the woman who had been forced to marry his father and now was being cast aside so that his father might remarry another and fight the Emperor another way.

An alliance with England was being discussed, both had been humiliated by the Emperor and his family; the Emperor had even meddled in English affairs by sacking Rome to prevent King Henry's divorce. Francis wondered how such a deal would be struck especially when there was nothing to tie their countries together; a marriage alliance had been tried before but Mary Tudor was now married off and the young Prince of Wales was a little too young for one of Francis's sisters.

"His Holiness has granted the divorce that my Lord Father has requested," the Dauphin stated quietly, his eyes searching for any sign of emotion that might betray how she felt about her new situation. The humiliation would not be forgotten and his father would not be swayed from his course, he wished to be free of his Habsburg wife and already discussions were held in secret of who his new bride would be.

All the while no such talks had happened for the Dauphin who should have been long since married by now, he should have been wed before the Duke of Orleans had been married off. It had been a long time since a match for himself had been discussed, he recalled vaguely that he had been betrothed to Mary Tudor, who was now like his own brother married to the House of Medici.

Eleanor closed her eyes tightly, her hands moving to clutch at her prayer beads and she tried to block out the silence that threatened to engulf her at such news. Her ladies were silent and Eleanor had no doubts that most of them would have seen this coming, her household had slowly been reduced over time despite the fact that she had been the Queen of France until this moment. Many had been desperate to separate their interests from the fallen House of Habsburg and their hated Queen who was nothing more than a puppet that her brother had married off to try and control the French King.

"Then I pray that His Majesty shall be blessed upon his next marriage," Eleanor whispered, she opened her eyes and looked to the Dauphin knowing that she would be expected to leave France and return to her home country to whatever fate her brother had decided for her. The fear of such a thing gripped her now, Charles was not a kind man and she hoped that perhaps Isabella would be able to help her in her hour of need.

"What shall happen to me?" Eleanor asked, her voice barely loud enough to be heard and tears started to fill her eyes as she pondered her new realty; she would not cry in front of the French Prince that had once been her step-son. Now she was nothing more than a former Queen here, they would treat her with the respect of a foreign royalty; they would wish her gone from their expenses soon enough.

"You are to return to Spain within the week," the Dauphin told her gently, they felt that it was enough time for her to get her affairs in order before leaving the French court and traveling to Spain. They had no doubts that Charles was already plotting his next move after his recent humiliation and there were whispers that he was eager for another son to secure his throne; they had heard that the Empress had gone into confinement with the expectation of delivering in the next few weeks.

"Then you must thank His Majesty for me. He has been most kind," Eleanor stated bowing to the Dauphin, she lowered her eyes knowing that if it had been anyone else then perhaps, she would have found herself chucked in a french nunnery or out in the cold. Francis might have detested her, though she did not blame him for that, but he had always treated her with respect as his Queen even if he did not do so as his wife.

He had no need to grace her bed when he had five children, three of which were healthy sons that could succeed him; he had no need to bed her for more children from her. The Dauphin bowed back to her before exiting the chapel, his father was likely celebrating the news that the Pope had granted his divorce but they all knew that Clement had only done it to save his own skin.

People would not forget what he had done, that he had become a pawn to the Emperor and had done his bidding in trying to keep Katherine of Aragon on the throne of England. Once the Dauphine had left, Eleanor clasped a hand over her mouth as she started to cry; dropping to the floor, she tried to stifle her sobs knowing that whatever punishment awaited her would be rained down upon her.

Charles would not forgive her for failing here, he had expected her to keep control of his French foe and now instead she was to return to him with nothing to tie her to the French royals. At least when she had been married to King Manuel of Portugal, she had given him a daughter and secured an alliance with the Portuguese throne through her child.

The sobs wracked her body as she wept fearing for her future, her fate was sealed and no doubt her brother would be plotting in his disappoint and fear that the French would side with the English against him. Her loyal Spanish ladies moved forward to comfort her, they could not imagine what awaited them in Spain.

Highly recommend Athenais Penelope Clemence's story, Chained by Love and War as well as the short prequel An Enchanting Dance in Calais by Countess of Sherwood. I also recommend For Even as Love Crowns You by wizardfantasy and Sanctuary by Cattyfan.

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