Festina Lente

Chapter Forty-Four: A Wedding in France

28th of October 1533 - Marseille, France

"My Duke of Orléans, I believe your bride would like a dance," King Francis stated leaning over to speak with his son, it was a grand occasion and no would not have his son ignore his new bride on such a day. 

The wedding had been a grand affair marked by extravagant display and gift-giving, which had seen the Duke of Orléans joust for his new bride though even Francis could not ignore the looks around the room that his son have. 

He had made it clear that Diane de Poitiers was not to attend the festivities nor the wedding, the French King was no means a fool and would not entertain his son's growing infatuation on the woman. 

Ignoring the look of annoyance on his son's face, Francis turned away from his son to focus back on the feast; the sound of Henri getting to his feet and offering his hand to Catherine made Francis smile. 

"I hear that our cousin has birthed another daughter," Queen Marguerite of Navarre mused softly, the news had arrived that morning and they had not had the chance to discuss such news with the wedding. 

Her eyes focused on the new Duchess of Orléans, she was not what the Queen had expected and she was not sure what to make of the girl. 

Catherine was an odd one, certainly not what Marguerite had expected when Francis had announced that he would marry his son to the wealthy orphan Medici girl that was related to the Pope. 

When the Medici had been overthrown in Florence by a faction opposed to the regime of Clement's representative, Cardinal Silvio Passerini, and Catherine was taken hostage and placed in a series of convents. 

Marguerite could only imagine what her time had been like there separated from her family, she had seen what such captivity had been like for her brother and beloved nephews. 

She recalled Clarice pacing the halls awaiting news of the girl that she adored as if her own sister, the fighting only halting when Charles had been crowned Holy Roman Emperor. 

Such talks had felt like a lifetime ago and Marguerite was most proud that her cousin had broken away from the accursed Pope who had tried to convince her to lower herself to the position of a common whore for his own needs.

"The child has been named Filiberta for our aunt," Francis stated sipping on his goblet of wine, it gave him hope of a further alliance with the English; there was no denying now that those who surrounded the King were against an imperial alliance. 

It suited the French simply fine, they had not forgiven nor had they forgotten the humiliation that they had suffered at the hands of the Emperor and the fact that the man's aunt had been proven as mad as his mother was just another nail in the coffin. 

"A fine name, I believe our aunt would have been most pleased," Marguerite agreed with a smile, she had only meet her mother's sister a few times and the Duchess of Nemours had been a quiet woman who preferred her own estates to being a court. 

Of course, she would never have refused attendance to court when summoned in fear of what that may mean for her daughter who she had hoped would find a good match at French court. 

"Surely her Lord Husband must be greatly disappointed," Eleanor of Austria stated knowing that many a man would have been displeased with a second daughter. 

She had birthed her first husband two children, her son being called to God before he wad even two years old and her daughter who lived in the royal court of Portugal. 

Her heart ached at being parted from her only living child, she had done her duty to her brother and country by marrying the French King; their position weaker than ever after the madness that seemed to take their aunt.