AN: A rather quick update from the last chapter. Thank you once again for the lovely reviews. Hope you all enjoy once more.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Tudors, never have and I never will.

Chapter Eleven

20 May 1536

"I was sorry to hear of the Dowager Queen's birthing of a son," said King Charles as he walked side by side with Mary. "It must have been terrible news to hear."

Mary smiled a sad smile. "It was, your majesty, but Queen Isabella has warned me that it might be for the better this way, that I may find some peace now but I don't know if I can find any peace in the knowledge that the whore has had a healthy son. It brings more pain to my heart than it does peace."

Charles sighed and nodded. "I would rather not see you in pain."

"I would rather not be in any but one day I know that I will come to terms with it," she replied.

It was true, no matter how much she wanted to be happy that England will find stability under one ruler; she had hoped that ruler would have been her. She had not realised exactly when she had truly lost faith in ever returning to England, it had been long before her half-brother was born. No matter how much Charles truly wanted to fight for her right, she knew that the Lords of Spain would not wish to fight for an English Princess that they had no true care or affection for. It was only because she was half-Spanish that there was even smallest chance of some of them fighting but Mary knew it was a lost cause.

She would be in Spain until the end of her days.

Not that this was a truly bad thing though, her cousin and his wife have welcomed her with open arms and if she was lucky maybe one day she could marry a Spanish lord and have his children. She had to have some solace in that. Her mother would want her to be a mother herself, to find a husband who truly loved her and to be settled somewhere.

She knew this was what her mother would want for her.

She could not live forever with anger in her heart.

It would do no good for her – nor the memory of her beloved mother.

22 May 1536

"Make way for his right high and right excellent, King Henry IX of England, son of his majesty, the late King Henry VIII of England and her majesty, the Queen Dowager of England," called the herald as Lady Mary Stafford held her nephew in her arms as she walked back to hand the babe back over to his mother.

She was not a Godmother this time; instead she was merely standing in for his real grandmother, Eleanor of Austria, the Queen of France. Mary had thought it a cruel joke when their father had told them of what they had planned. Of course, King Francis would be thrilled at having the new King of England as a godson and by doing so, they had implicated the Queen of France into being Godmother, despite the fact that she was King Charles's sister and thus held an interest in the Lady Mary.

Anne had complained for days when their father had told them what he had planned but there was no changing it now.

Anne had managed though to get their brother as the Princes other Godfather. At least there would be some calm and normality in his life with George as his godfather, unlike the choice in Godmother which Mary felt would come back and bite them in the royal behinds one day.

Her nephew was a good boy though. He did cry when the water was placed over his head but other than that he acted royally, much more so than a babe his age should. It was like he knew already that he was indeed the King of England. The people of the court already loved their new King, whether in facade or not, but Mary was surprised by how much respect a babe of that age could generate.

Though she shouldn't be shocked – he was Anne's son after all.

The lords and ladies followed like little baby ducks following their mother as Mary presented the newly christened King to his mother. Anne looked regal as always and there was a glow about her that Mary had not seen since the death of her husband. Mary was glad to see it. After all Anne had to do to just see a healthy son be born she deserved this moment of glory.

This little boy was proof that what Henry had done was right – that marrying Anne was correct in the eyes of God. This little boy proved everything for the Boleyns and more importantly, Anne would now not be called the whore but the mother of the King of England and the rightful wife of the late King Henry.

30 May 1536

Her baby brother was a month old now and Elizabeth had seen him a few times but every time had been with her mother had been with her but today it was only her and her Uncle George.

Elizabeth liked her Uncle George. He was always kind to her, made her laugh and brought her gifts and to her, that made him the best Uncle in the entire world. She hoped that he would still like her best. Everyone seemed so happy with her little brother Harry now born but Elizabeth couldn't ever remember a time that everyone had been so happy to see her. They had always been polite but never truly excited. She thought to question her mother on it but she had been distracted by her mother giving her a new doll and had forgotten all about it.

She was too short to look into the crib herself, standing on the tips of her toes only could help so much and she was thankful that Uncle George was there to lift her up so she could see inside to her little brother. "So he is the King now?" Elizabeth asked and George nodded.

It had made her said when ever Grandfather came to tell her that she could no longer be Queen because she had a little brother. She had been Queen for only a short time but it had not been a bad time, except for the fact that her papa was no longer around to play with her. She had felt very important on the day that she was coroneted and she thought Queen Elizabeth sounded nice. She was back to being Princess Elizabeth once more.

But at least that was better than being called Lady Elizabeth, like her half-sister.

She had wondered what had happened to Mary. Mary had been kind to her at Hatfield despite being less important than her but she had not seen her anywhere since their papa died. She only just thought it strange. Surely Mary would have wanted to meet their new brother, surely she would have wanted to see her coroneted.

"Where did Mary go?" asked Elizabeth to her uncle.

George frowned. "Aunt Mary went to play with Annie, why?"

Elizabeth shook her head, red curls bobbing on either side of her face. "No, the Lady Mary."

Her uncle had a strange expression across his face when he realised who she was talking about but Elizabeth couldn't quite determine what that expression meant. It took him a moment before he looked at her once again and smiled. "She went to her mother's family, in Spain."

Elizabeth nodded, quite happy with the explanation. It was good that Mary could be with family thought Elizabeth. She liked being with her family. Maybe Mary would have someone her own age to play with like she had Annie, Elizabeth thought that would be nice for Mary. Maybe she would stop wearing just black as well.

Black was such a boring colour – Elizabeth always liked brighter fabrics.

Hopefully the Lady Mary would like brighter fabrics now too.

TBC.