The Life Of A Queen

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Two weeks was not long enough to get to know someone. It was  the farthest from enough time to get to know one's future spouse (until death do you part). 

Eugene knew this, but the wedding would go on as scheduled anyhow. He needed his dynasty secured as soon as possible, and that meant marrying a girl he’d never met before in the hopes she’d bear him a son in two or  three years. Eugene wasn’t so self centered to think that he was the only one a bit nervous about getting married. His young bride was probably terrified of what was to come. 

So, as the oldest (and the man) in this, it was his responsibility to take the lead and care for her. Even though he had no idea what the hell he was doing. This marriage was not his decision, if it were up to him he’d marry someone else--someone older, but Archbishop Jean-Paul had insisted on this specific princess. 

“She is Henry Tudor’s younger sister,” he had said,” and her children will have a claim to England--should the English King fail to father a legitimate son.” 

The idea was sold to the council members who all absolutely loved the idea of spiteing the English any way they could. And it didn’t seem like the other king would be expecting a son anytime soon. But still. 

“His wife could very easily produce a son,” Eugene had argued. “I hear she is pregnant again.” 

Duke Toulouse  spoke up and scoffed, “And what are the chances that it’ll be a boy? Or that he’ll live?” 

The Archbishop had jumped onto the outburst to add on, “They have had sons before, but they barely make it out of the womb. And the Queen isn’t getting any younger.” 

When they noticed that Eugene was still unconvinced they changed tactics. They spoke about how an English alliance would be useful against Charles V, a rival of his cousin who’s grudge had seemed to transfer to Eugene’s rule. An inconvenience now, his death later if he wasn’t careful. 

So, reluctantly, he agreed and had written to the ambassador of his wishes. For a month he waited for word back and half hoped the English King would tell him no, that he would not be sending his thirteen year old sister to France with only two ladies to marry a man (boy) she had never met before. It’s what Eugene would have said if he was in his position, it’s what his father said when the Hasburgs asked for his sister. It seemed the English weren’t the sentimental type.

The day of was grande but painfully formal for Eugene’s taste. At least the bride was pretty and looked happy in her gold and white dress, Katherine didn’t shy away from the onlookers. She stood tall and straight (she was tall for her age, she went to his chest and he was about 6’1). Her green eyes glazed in determination and communion wine as they spoke their vows. He was mildly impressed by her Latin and wondered just how well she was educated. 

He would have to ask her. Maybe tonight when they would be alone. 

The banquet after the ceremony was filled with about twice as many of the nobles, all of the court was invited to this but not the ceremony. The ceremony was strictly political with ambassadors and a shit load of witnesses so that neither of them could lie about it taking place. 

Like either would. Well, Eugene wouldn’t. 

He hardly got to speak to his new wife before she was whisked away by her ladies and a few other ladies at court who she had befriended in the short time she was here. Katherine smiled apologetically at him but was quick to leave, not once looking back, and instead of jealousy Eugene could only feel relief that she had someone to talk to. Lord knows he wasn’t one for words of comfort or reassurance. 

His sisters had arrived for the banquet, a surprise for him as he did kill one of their husbands just over a year ago. It’s a wonder how forgiving family can be. 

Claude was the first to approach him, she (for once) was not dressed like a nun. Instead she was dressed in a burnt orange dress which was fur lined. She stood hunched over, plump with her pregnancy, with an uncomfortable disposition. 

“Sister, it is a joy to see you.” Eugene said as he stood up to offer his chair, which Claude took. “In truth, I’m surprised you decided to come.”

“I wouldn’t miss my own brother’s wedding,” she said, “nothing could keep me away from this.” Claude turned and smiled at  her younger brother, her eyes fond and soft in a way that reminded Eugene of their father. “I dreamed of this day when you were a toddler. For me, for you, and Rei.” 

“I just wish it hadn’t all happened so fast,” she commented sadly. “....I have a favor to ask you--and I am so terribly sorry that the first time you’ve see me the first thing I do is ask for something, but this is important…” 

“Anything,” Eugene said “anything you need. “ 

“Don’t marry Renee off so soon,” Claude whimpered, “she is of age--I know that, that it  is your right too, but she is a little girl.” 

“She and Katherine are the same age,” Eugene commented, even though he agreed.  “And you had no objections to me marrying her.”

The rest of that conversation was a blur, as Eugene did his best to tune out his consciousness in human form (aka Claude, his sister). Eventually Claude had to retire for the night and Eugene decided to do the same. Because his bride was so young, there was no consummation ceremony. They weren’t expected to consummate their marriage at all tonight, or even in the next year. 

Katherine spent the night in her rooms with her new friends Francios de Foix and Janet DuBois. They were her bridesmaids and now her friends. They spent the night together talking about pointless things like where they got their dresses from and what flowers they preferred. The conversation was mindless and terribly dull but Katherine recognized the importance of making friends, of finding comfort in a place she had never been before with people she did not know.

So she vowed to make friends, to turn this court into a home.