Winter On The Weekend

'You can run on for a long time

Run on for a long time

Run on for a long time

Sooner or later God'll cut you down'

God's Gonna Cut You Down by Johnny Cash

19th July 1505, Richmond Palace, London,

Edward trailed along the long dark hallway of Richmond Palace, admiring the craftsmanship of the stone work. King Henry VII had commissioned the palace to be rebuilt with stone after it burnt down in 1497, or that's what he had heard the Prince state. They had moved from Greenwich to Richmond a few days after Prince Harry's birthday. King Henry much preferred Richmond to any other place. Edward's father was apparently busy, or so he had said when Edward had gone to him to plead for a tutor. Thomas was off annoying playing with the Prince and his friends again which meant Edward could go and find Anne without his father being told.

It was a long walk to the Boleyn suite as they were situated far closer to the King than the Seymours', but Edward had not seen Anne since she had given him her drawing. He had hoped she would appear and regale him with gossip about the feast and joust for the Prince's birthday, but she had not to his immense disappointment. He reached the oak door and tentatively knocked, hoping they would be in despite the warm weather.

"Hello there" smiled a beautiful lady, petite with fair skin and caramel eyes, a gurgling (and rather chubby) baby bouncing in her arms.

"My Lady, I was wondering if Annie…I mean Lady Anne was here" he stumbled over his words, his face flushing as he bowed.

"Ah, you must be Lord Seymour's eldest, Edward, I believe. Mary and Anne are just packing their belongings. As it's such lovely weather, Monsieur Symonnet had decided to let the girls take their lessons outside. I'm sure he'll be happy to let you attend today if you do not distract them. It's history today", Lady Boleyn's smile was kind as she ushered Edward into their chamber.

"Non, Madame Boleyn, Mademoiselles Mary and Anne will be practising theology. It is a perfect time to contemplate the way God works and the how we, as humans, interpret it", Monsieur Symonnet's words were heavily accented and he used energetic gestures to embellish his speech.

"Now, now, Ambrose. Master Seymour's father is a devout Catholic so none of…you know…" Thomas Boleyn's brows furrowed as he looked upon Edward's lanky form.

"Monsieur Seymour, follow me then. Mademoiselle Mary, please pick up a hornbook for the young lord, and fetch Mademoiselle Anne" smiled Symonnet, excitedly gathering his tutoring supplies and the picnic he had asked the Boleyn's maid to fix up.

Edward followed eagerly before the energetic tutor. Anne stumbling along besides him, only just awake from her morning nap, and not nearly alert enough to notice the new addition to her lesson. A scowling Mary was half dragging her younger sister along. He barely noticed his surroundings, far too excited to be attending an actual lesson with an actual tutor, before realising they were already in the expansive grounds. Symonnet picked a spot beneath an oak tree, laying out the rich silk material for his tutees to sit upon.

Symonnet set his books and parchments to the side, rustling through the large wicket basket of food instead. He handed out thick bread rolls of cheese and honey glazed ham to each of the children before settling on a chicken pastry.

"Edward?" questioned Anne, finally alert, titling her head at her friend, "what are you doing here?".

"Joining in your lesson today" he grinned at the gap-toothed girl, who broke into a massive smile as she looked upon her dear friend. She carefully crawled over to Edward, settling down next to him, rearranging her heavy gown around her so she could bear her skinny legs to the fresh air.

"Children, children, we must begin your lesson now, so we don't overrun into supper. Today we will be discussing whether or not God approves of the church's system of paying for entrance into Heaven, or in other words, how does God think we should behave".

"You said yesterday that God does not like the Catholic system of paying" smiled Mary, scribbling notes onto her thick parchment. She preened under Symonnet's praise of her answer.

"Oui, Monsieur! God believes everyone should have the chance to go to Heaven" Anne answered eagerly, thick ink blots forming on her book from her excited (and unreadable) scribbling.

"Monsieur Symonnet, are you stating that the Catholic church is corrupt in itself as it exists on greed" questioned Edward, carefully writing out his notes. He supposed that Symonnet's view was accurate, it did seem odd that an all-loving God would insist upon payment to enter St Peter's gates. Edward tried to justify the system in his head but slumped when he could not.

"Now, now Monsieur Edward, not every aspect of the church is bad. It also offers many comfort and help. But as this is a theology lesson, I must address the negative points with the positive. Instead we must discuss how we can help reform the…"

"Symonnet!" Thomas Boleyn's sharp tone stopped the tutor's passionate lecture. Thomas Boleyn's dark eyes observed the interested children before him.

He beckoned the tutor away, scowling heavily.

Anne turned to Edward eager to explain her father's irritation, "Papa said we cannot voice our discomfort with the church, especially as the King's Lady Mother is so pious".

"My father and mother are also very devoted to our church" whispered Edward, a small quirk of a smile playing upon his thin lips.

"Then you shall have to keep it a secret" grinned Anne, her hand clutching at his tightly.

XX

30th July 1505, Richmond Palace, London,

Catalina sat uncomfortably upon the small chair that sat by her large oak vanity. Her heavily ringed fingers sparkled in the bright sunlight that was streaming through her widely opened windows. Even after nearly four years in England, she struggled with the humid heat that this strange country had. She could not understand why the ladies still danced round in huge gowns of velvet or silk; she desperately missed the cool chiffon and linen she was allowed to wear back in Spain. She gently brushed her long auburn hair, counting the strokes of the brush like her sister, Juana had taught her. Her lady, Mariá (the only one to remain with her from her original retinue), massaged Catalina's aching temples. Her headdress only seemed to exacerbate her migraine at the minute.

"Catalina, my beautiful wife, you asked for me?", the gentle voice of her dear husband made her startle in shock. She had not expected him so quickly. She turned to him, a heavy frown upon her pretty face.

"Arthur, how did you manage to get into my chambers without an announcement?".

His cheerful smile warmed her heart as he came over to his wife and tenderly placed a kiss upon her sweaty forehead before replying, "it's a perk of being the Prince of Wales, my darling".

She laughed at his answer, gaily, before her bright blue eyes met Arthur's steel grey ones.

"Arthur, I have something to tell you".

Arthur straightened out, his eyes flashing with concern as he took his wife's slim shaking hand.

"I…I am with child. The midwife said we should expect our child to be born around Yuletide. She also said we should be able to feel the babe kick soon".

Arthur felt the joy swell in his chest as he grinned at Catalina and pulled her close to him. He cradled her happily in his arms, pressing softs kisses to her auburn hair. She couldn't believe that after so long, they would finally produce an heir for England. He would finally be able to show his family and his future subjects that he had completed his duty.

"Oh Catalina, I will be the best father possible to our baby", he whispered earnestly, kissing away the happy tears that fell from his wife's bright blue eyes.

XX

31st July 1505, Richmond Palace, London,

The royal family were not used to dining all together in private, but Arthur had pressed his father to arrange the feast without the courtiers milling around. As usual, King Henry was sat at the head of the table, his blue eyes fixated on his plate as he pushed the food around suspiciously. Arthur was used to his father's paranoia of being poisoned, and despite the fact the food was tested, he knew it stemmed from his childhood where his title and blood had painted a target upon his father's back from a young age. His mother sat on the right side of her husband, her kind eyes flashing between Arthur and Catalina as if she knew their secret already. Her red-gold hair was pulled back into a loose bun with a small tiara upon her head, his mother rarely wore her heavy gable hoods in private, and she was dressed in a fine silk gown of powder blue. His grandmother sat the other side of his father, she looked tired, her face pinched with concern as she looked upon her family.

On the other end of his father sat his two younger siblings squabbling about who was going to be allowed to hold the falcon first tomorrow. Henry had arranged for both Prince Harry and Princess Mary Rose to have lessons in falconry from Lambert Simnel. Harry was a strapping boy of fourteen, bright eyed and ruddy-cheeked. He was the epitome of extravagance and secretly Arthur was pleased that his father regarded Harry coolly, especially as his mother seemed to dote on his spoilt little brother. Mary Rose was a petite and attractive child of nine who personality was so similar to Harry's that they clashed almost daily. Arthur sighed heavily at his siblings, finding himself missing his dear sister, Margaret. They had been so very close and now she was in Scotland, he felt himself needing her advice at this time. She would tell him how he could make Catalina comfortable and content in her pregnancy, and how to not allow Harry and Mary Rose to irritate him.

He smiled at his wife, clutching her hand as she nodded her consent to him. Arthur stood quietly, carefully clinking his goblet with his steel knife.

"Mother, Father, Grandmother, Princess Catherine and I have an announcement. Catherine is with child".

"The babe is due at Yuletide" piped up Catalina, glowing at the happy faces of her in-laws. Amongst all the congratulations and smiles, both Catalina and Arthur missed the dark look that clouded Prince Harry's face.

XX

1st August 1505, Richmond Palace, London,

"Hush" the sharp voice of the Prince rang out as he hissed at his companions, irritated at the giggling occurring.

"You both know we are not allowed down here. My father would have us lashed for disregarding his rules" spat Harry, a scowl on his handsome face.

He knew his father believed gluttony and greed was a sin, but he couldn't understand why on earth, he was not allowed to indulge on chocolate just because it hurt his father's teeth. He was a Prince (and the best Prince in the kingdom, he thought to himself) and as such, he deserved to have some of Cook's delicious chocolate pudding. His best friends, Charles and Will followed behind him, laughing to themselves.

As they reached the heavy oak door, Harry knocked rapidly. The silence that surrounded them allowed the boys to push open the door to the kitchen. Upon the kitchen sides sat the rich puddings that would be going out to the courtiers at the feast to announce Catalina's pregnancy this evening. Harry spied a sharp lemon curd tart, sweetened almonds, sugared fruit, soft biscuits, jelly and gingerbread. He sighed heavily in disappointment.

"The cake's not here".

"Yes, it is! It's over there" called Will, pointing at the large table by the window.

Harry scrambled over, his mouth watering. He picked up the spoon next to it and dug into the large pudding, moaning in delight at the rich cocoa flavouring.

"OOF!"

The loud noise startled Harry, who jumped round, in nervousness, hoping he had not been caught. Instead his bright eyes met the sight of Charles' face coated in lemon curd. He let out a bark like laugh at Will's antics. Silently he crept up behind Will, the plate of chocolate pudding and shoved it into Will's cheeky face.

By the time they had finished their food fight, the kitchen was a mess of flour, eggs and ruined desserts.

XX

Notes: Monsieur Symonnet is noted as Anne Boleyn tutor at Margaret of Navarre's court (Ives, 2004). As Anne was a not a royal princess, we do not know who her early childhood tutor was (or George's) but the three Boleyn's were all very well educated in language, theology, art, music, philosophy, poetry, law and history as well as domestic pursuits. George could speak fluent French, Latin and Italian so I think it can be assumed that Anne also had lessons in these subjects (Anne's daughter, Elizabeth, was a talented linguist so it may have been hereditary). But anyway, because of not knowing who her tutor was in early childhood, I'm using Symonnet and I've decided to give him the first name of Ambrose.

Martin Luther's religious reform writings did not begin to circulate until 1519, hence why I am not labelling Symonnet's religious beliefs. Symonnet is an "early" criticiser of the Catholic Church but he is not 'radical' enough to be described as a reformer. However, in this story, Symonnet has begun to sow the seeds of dissent among Edward and Anne at least.

Some happy news for our dear Arthur and Catalina. I'm sure they will make fantastic parents.

Lambert Simnel was a pretender during the reign of King Henry VII. He claimed to be Edward Plantagenet, the Duke of Warwick. After he was captured, King Henry took pity on the child and put him to work in the kitchen (instead of executing him). Simnel was then able to progress and became a royal falconer.

Next chapter includes: Margaret Tudor as Queen of Scotland, the preparation of Prince Henry to enter the church and there is danger on a boating lake.

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