maroon/// charles brandon [the tudors]

letters to my betrothed

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"A bastard? You really want me to marry a bastard daughter of the Duke of Albany?" Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk stormed into the room as Henry Tudor, King of England and more importantly his friend sat, going over important document. A letter was sent to his home rather than Henry telling him straight to his face. A sigh came from the king as he leaned in his chair.

"I've heard that Albany has been in the process of legitimizing her and her older sister. Her dowry is large, not to mention you owe me a debt after the shit you pulled with Mary Rose," the king stated, getting up from his chair. He did have a point, and it seems that debt is being paid in for being a personal whore for a Scot. "I've heard she's pretty fair, despite her father not looking great. A dark hair beauty from my sister's letters at Edinburgh."

Charles pulled up a chair and sat down. Despite Henry being king, he was Charles's friend. Yet the king part comes first in situations like these. "Yes but she's Scottish." Charles's rebuttal caused a hearty laugh from Henry.

"That may be but if anyone can tame the Scottish mare, it would be you," Henry joked and jetted as the two seemed to come to an agreement. "Write a letter to her Suffolk, let her get to know you and make this transition easier on all of us." Henry would write back to Albany, for the both of them to ride down, and that Charles will be waiting for them at the border, to escort them the rest of the way. A wedding will take place at Windsor Castle, and that shall seal the deal with Scotland for a while at least. The last thing that both countries needed was a war.

Charles nodded before getting up. If anything, he was a faithful man for the longhaul, and if this was to work, best try and get to know his bride beforehand. It would take the pressure off just a bit, in his eyes.

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Meanwhile in Scotland, Genevieve Stewart was braiding her half sister's hair. It was a joyous event, with her sister being sent off to wed in France. Eleanor was already legitimized and soon it would be her turn next. Their father did always favor her more, so she knew that whomever she was to wed, it would be a good match for her as well.

"The braid shall hold as you sail across the sea to be wed. A shame that Father and I can not come." The fact that the both of them couldn't make it to Eleanor's wedding had sent sparks in Genevieve's head. Perhaps she would be wed to the king, their cousin, James. It would be the perfect match, plus she really did enjoy her cousin's company. There hadn't been much plans for the young king to marry, except for the millions of offers that came from foreign royals. But Genevieve was local, she was his cousin, and she would make a great queen for the young king.

"Gen, you will always be with me. And you will find a great match, one that deserves you and loves you." A scuffed laugh came from the corner of the room as the Doweger Queen Margaret Tudor standing in the doorway. Both the young women stood up to bow and pay their respects to the Doweger Queen.

"I only laugh because love is rare, but to see it in the two of you does warm a heart. I came for you Lady Genevieve, your father would like to see you in his office," the older woman stated, looking at the two girls. Genevieve gave one final finish to the braid before bowing once again to the Doweger Queen before going to find her father.

Sat in his chair, John Stewart, Duke of Albany read over the letters on his desk, sorting out dowries for both of his girls. Eleanor's was simple because she was to wed a lower noble. Genevieve was a different story. Her mother was much more than a common woman, she was an heiress in her own right, leaving everything to Genevieve. Even if Genevieve wasn't in the middle of being legitimized, that sort of money and assets would definitely bring in the crowd of suitors. Vetting through them all was tough, then came the letter from Henry the Eight, which shocked him. The Suffolk title will be more than enough for his little girl that held his heart.