To say that Henry was upset and embarrassment would have been the understatement of a century. The Lord of the Tudor household almost went unnoticed as he stormed through the halls of Suscinio. He made sure to take bad corners and hidden hallways and avoided eye contact with anyone that he stumbled across. The servants jumped out of his way as he passed, immediately turning to one another to whisper in hushed voices about his beat red face and the hunch to his back; Henry rarely walked anywhere without his shoulders squared and his head high, especially in front of those who served him.
Henry had always prided himself in keeping up appearances around the castle. This was a first for anyone to see the young man so clearly disheveled. Of course, they all speculated it concerned his kidnapping and near-death encounter with the English king. In reality, however, Henry's mind couldn't be further from that experience.
Instead, his brain was stubborn and refused to focus on anything but the image of someone's unblemished and milky-white skin, their prominent shoulder blades, and slender, narrow waist. Her stunned, blue eyes had widened when she had noticed him, her face deepening into a deep red the color of sunset. Her hair had fallen into her face, still wet, dripping water onto her collar bones and down her spine.
There had been a moment of pause for Henry, where he wasn't sure what he was looking at, or more precisely who he was looking at. Whoever they were, Henry found them mind-numbingly pretty.
"Henry, look out!"
Confused, Henry's head snapped up at the voice, just as he ran into a door.
He fell heavily onto the ground; fairly positive, his nose was bleeding. His head was spinning like crazy and, in his puzzlement at what just happened, he just stared up at the ceiling with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish.
Henry could hear laughter and approaching steps, but he didn't bother moving. Now that his mind was refocusing on the present, Henry knew whose voice had called out to him. It was the only person Henry didn't entirely care about keeping up pretenses around.
"You alright?" Jasper asked. Henry's uncle had a hand over his mouth as he was leaning over him. Henry could tell he was doing his best not to laugh, but his shoulders were shaking, and his eyes were lit up like cannon fire. Jasper extended a hand to Henry, who took it reluctantly. "That's probably the first I've seen someone try to walk through a wall."
Henry shot his uncle a look as he dusted himself off.
"It was a door," Henry corrected unnecessarily. He checked his nose with a few dabs of his hand, but thankfully there wasn't any blood. The pain, however, was still sharp, and the sound of him hitting the wood seemed to be echoing loudly throughout his head. Combined with a new wave of embarrassment, Henry's face was both uncontrollably warm and blistering with pain.
"What's got you so distracted that you would just walk straight into something immovable like that?" Jasper inquired, still trying to hold back his laughter. Henry avoided his uncle's gaze as he shifted where he stood, rubbing the sore spot on his lower back.
"It's nothing," Henry brushed off. "I've just got a lot of things on my mind right now."
Jasper's eyes narrowed, and his laughter haltered. The smile on his face slowly fell away as a soft expression of concern, but understanding flooded his features. Jasper grabbed Henry's shoulder as he started walking away, turning his nephew back towards him. Henry raised his eyebrow at the action but allowed Jasper to direct him without any resistance into a spare room nearby. It was a simple sitting area with just a few chairs and a roaring fire in the corner. The heat was pleasant for Jasper but uncomfortable for Henry. Regardless, though, Henry sat without any complaints and watched his uncle move across the room to pour some water for both of them.
"I take it, she told you?" Jasper's words startled Henry. He gave his uncle a puzzled look, trying to understand who he was referring to before a wave of realization washed over him. His mouth hung open a bit as he stumbled for the right words, but he seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Jasper stepped towards Henry during the latter's silence, clapping him on the shoulder again and squeezing in comfort. He brought himself down to Henry's eye level and pulled the spare chair closer towards himself so that the two were sitting knee to knee.
"You knew." The comprehension was slow, but Henry's voice was breathy as if he had just been running an incredibly long distance. Henry's shoulder rose and fell slowly as his hands curled into fists in his lap. Wordlessly, Jasper handed Henry the glass of water and watched his nephew down it quickly, a small amount of water spilling from the corners of his mouth. Henry felt his fingers twitch around the glass once he was down drinking it, and the muscles of his face grew tight as his mind raced. Jasper kept calm despite his nephew's apparent growing rage.
"I found out shortly after you were taken away," Jasper admitted reluctantly but hastily. Henry's temper stalled as he waited for his uncle to explain. Sighing, Jasper rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned forward. Being an expert on how to deal with Henry, unfortunately, didn't make it any easier. "She hadn't intended on telling me if that helps."
"It doesn't," Henry said as his eyebrows knitted together. "He," Henry stuttered, "or I guess it should be she, she didn't want to tell me either which makes me think she would have kept misleading me if I hadn't accidentally found out."
Henry's shoulders slumped, and his face fell. Jasper cocked his head to the side as he observed Henry's downcast expression. He took a sip of his water and leaned back away from Henry as his nephew got up to pour himself more water. Henry downed one more glass before resuming his seat, still holding the empty glass between both hands.
"What do you mean you accidentally found out?" asked Jasper after Henry's stream of sighs ended. Henry's face shifted between multiple shades of red at his uncle's words. Jasper's eyes went wide at the action, and his mouth fell open in shock. "Henry, what do you mean you accidentally found out about Adelaide?"
Henry's blush faltered.
"Who's Adelaide?"
Jasper, too, faltered.
"Haven't we been talking about Adelaide this entire time?" Jasper questioned, his expression morphing into utter confusion. Henry mirrored his uncle, and for a moment they just stared at one another in bewilderment.
"Like I said," Henry resumed slowly. "Who exactly is Adelaide?"
"Arthur," Jasper answered with a wave of his hand. Henry raised an eyebrow and looked behind him at the door as if expecting Arthur to be in the doorframe. Jasper groaned at Henry's idiocy and rolled his eyes. "Arthur is Adelaide. Adelaide is Arthur. Arthur's real name is Adelaide. Are you following Henry?"
Henry's blush successfully resumed, and he stuttered to try and respond.
"Normally, people don't name their little girls Arthur, Henry," Jasper retorted, giving Henry a disproving look. Henry groaned loudly and stood up in frustration. He began pacing the room in annoyance while Jasper sat back and watched. "You know, I had thought you would be more upset about her having kept the truth from you all this time."
"I am mad," hollered Henry, throwing his arms up into the air. Henry's pace sped up, and it began to look like he was spinning around the room in circles. Jasper continued observing, partially amused but also oddly disturbed.
"At who exactly?" Instantly, Henry's dancing stopped. He looked at his uncle with a wide-eyed innocence that reminded Jasper of when he had been much younger. Henry's posture deflated as he just stood in the center of the room, lost.
"Who else would I be mad at?" Henry shouted, offended, his voice echoing around the room. "Someone who I've trusted more than anything, more than anyone, someone who I've considered my closest friend and my most loyal confidant, has been lying to me from the very beginning of our relationship, has been deceiving me from the start."
"Henry," Jasper's voice was calming but firm, halting the young boy in his steps. The nineteen-year-old looked unsure in his anger as he battled with himself. Jasper patted the seat across from him, and Henry reluctantly moved across the room and resumed his seat.
"Why didn't I notice, uncle?" Henry's voice was depleted. He shifted his body weight onto his knees and cradled his head in his arms. "I say that Arthur—Adelaide—was, is, my best friend, and yet I didn't notice that he was a she this entire time. Shouldn't I have noticed something like that?"
Jasper was quiet as he looked over Henry.
"Can I be honest with you about something, nephew?" Jasper asked, folding his hands together, his long pale fingers intertwining tightly. Henry didn't respond right away but slowly nodded his head. Jasper reconfigured his posture and straightened his spine. With a loud clear of his throat and another drink of water, Jasper inched towards Henry. "Well, over the years I've noticed something about the two of you. You both are very different when it comes to interacting and getting to know people. Adelaide has a tendency to," Jasper hesitated as he reached for the right words. "Well, she tends to not really care for those that she isn't close with. Everyone that isn't you doesn't matter to her."
"She cares about you, too," Henry retorted, but Jasper was already shaking his head.
"Not in the same way she cares about you," continued Jasper. "Adelaide's primary focus is always directed towards you. To her, another person's name, their family history, their likes and dislikes, aren't relevant. Strangers and people she sees infrequently are unnecessary."
Henry was silent for a moment as he took in Jaspers words. He stared at the ground in deliberation as he considered Arthur. True, his brother had always been somewhat secluded in his, her, nature. The few people she did speak to around the castle were only potential portrait models. She never really talked with others if Henry wasn't present.
"And what about me?" Henry asked curiously.
"Well, Henry, you're the exact opposite. You see people as either enemies or allies. For you, strangers are opportunities to garner supporters, that's why you invest so much time in them. You get to know them, you learn about them, you notice them because that how you get them to your side," Jasper said delicately. Henry was unsure whether or not to be offended as he sat back in his chair, waiting for his uncle to continue. "That's probably why you didn't notice Adelaide's true gender; you already had her support, so extra information was ultimately irrelevant for you. You knew what you needed to know about her and noticed what you needed to notice in order to have her support and to gain her trust, and that was enough for you."
Henry was silent as he looked at his uncle. He rolled his shoulders and shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he digested the conversation. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach and his throat went dry and scratchy. His eyes shifted downward as he stared intensely at a crack in the flooring
"That makes me seem like a horrible person," Henry whispered. Jasper's expression softened as he leaned for to place a comforting hand on his nephew's head.
"You're not a horrible person, Henry," Jasper said with a pained smile. "You're just me."
Henry looked up at Jasper, confused.
"Throughout the years, I've taught you to lean the desires of a person's heart, to figure out what makes them wake up every morning. It's easy to exploit and earn support from someone who believes you care about them," Jasper shook his head. "Unfortunately, I think I've raised you poorly when it comes to valuing personal relationships that aren't related to power."
Henry wanted to refute his uncle's statements about his personality, but he knew that they were true. Henry never did pay close attention to Adelaide. His attentiveness was always directed towards the people that weren't one hundred percent behind him already. Adelaide didn't need convincing or manipulating, she trusted him, and he trusted her, and that was enough. Or at least it was.
"I need to find Adelaide," Henry said, standing quickly, the chair squeaking loudly on the floor. "I need to apologize."
With another brief glance at his uncle, Henry strolled from the room with long strides and a hard set line furrowed between his brows. Jasper smiled as Henry figure disappeared out of the room. He leaned back in exhaustion and took the last sip of water from his glass.
"That went better than expected," he laughed to himself. Eventually, though, the older Tudor left to the room too. But rather than searching for a girl, he browsed the castle for something a bit stronger to drink than water to help take away the headache that came with being a fill-in father.