Festina Lente

Chapter Seventy-Five: Elisabeth of Hesse

19th of March 1535 - Milan, Italy

Holding her head high, Elisabeth of Hesse knew that when her brother had told her of his plans for her that she had never thought that he would be able to pull it off. 

The very idea that she would be the Queen of France had felt like a fantasy in some way, she had never pictured herself as anything more than what she was now. 

When her father has passed away when she was a child, Elisabeth never pictured that her life would amount to anything more than perhaps a Duchess of some local land. 

Her father had attempted to arrange a marriage with a Prince of Saxony who had connections to Poland but that had fallen through when her father had died when she was seven. 

Left in her mother's care with little finances while her brother had been kept far away from them until Anna of Mecklenburg-Schwerin had regained control of Hesse in 1512. 

The chapel where she was being wed, was a stark contrast to the one of her childhood where she had spent the better part of three years praying with her mother. 

The gloomy chapel that had marked her mother's grief at losing her husband and having her son stolen from her, was very different to the beautifully decorated one where Elisabeth would wed the King of France. 

Of course, the beauty of Italian architecture was something to be greatly admired and it was a blessing that she would be wed in such a place as this. 

Elisabeth took a deep breath before she linked arms with her brother, she should have known that Philip would get what he wanted especially when Hesse did not have much to offer the alliance as Sweden or Denmark. 

There were a few notable French nobles in attendance along with several ladies that Elisabeth guessed had been gathered to witness the union. 

Her brother had assured her that the King had promised that once the fighting was done that, she would find herself truly crowned the Queen of France in such a grand ceremony that not even the Emperor's sister had been blessed with. 

Her hands felt sweaty and she tried to keep her face blank as she made her way up the aisle to where her intended was waiting for her.

Several of the nobles turned to look at Elisabeth as she walked up the aisle, each taking in and forming their own opinions of the woman that was set to become the next Queen of France. 

Cardinal de Tournon watched the bride approaching, a frown set upon his face as he took in the woman that in a few moments would be the queen of his country. 

He had been surprised when Francis has insisted upon him being the one to wed them, the ceremony was to be a Catholic one and the bride had been told of what had been expected of her. 

France was a catholic country afterall and heresy would not be tolerated by the people, her actions would be watched and while Francis would turn a blind eye on private worshipping, their children would be raised in the faith of their father and older siblings. 

Francis had left nothing to chance and Philip had been eager to agree to anything during the negotiations especially when the French King had waved the offering of the dowry. 

Instead, he had instructed that the dowry be turned over to Elisabeth, so that she might use it for her own purposes along with the finances that he would provide for her as her husband. 

Reaching the altar, Elisabeth nodded to her brother as he pressed a kiss to her hand before gifting it to the french king who wore a serious expression of his face while his deep brown eyes searched Elisabeth's face.