Chapter Text
Mary loves her mother. She loves her. Admires her. Respects her. She thinks she is the best queen their country, if not the whole world, has ever been graced with. It doesn’t mean she understands why she thinks the queen – and in her absence, the heir to the throne – needs to be present at such boring, useless, time-wasting committees.
Still, she supposes she prefers attending those to being on welcoming duty for their latest guests. Despite her mother, and Mary herself, making it clear that no marriage talks will be entertained, every single time there is always at least one man who thinks he is different. More powerful. Richer. More handsome. Smarter. Just...more something, enough to make him (or his son) the exception to that rule.
That’s another thing she is grateful to her mother for. The understanding. The support. Mary has seen enough girls, from every rank of society, being more or less gently encouraged to get married. And, perhaps even worse, she has seen so many fall in love. Losing themselves into trying to please someone else, most of the times only for it to end up in heartbreak. And the other times...well, she is waiting for that to happen.
The number of miserable marriages she has been a witness to, her mother’s being the prime example...
No.
She is too smart for it. She is not naïve. She found out early on that fairy tales are not to be believed.
After all, if her mother, the greatest woman she has ever known, could not make it work with...that sorry excuse for a man, who could have hope?
Impressionable age or not, after seeing what her mother went through for the one whom she had the misfortune of having to call father, there is no way Mary is going to put herself through that.
No. Her mother knows that. Everyone in their realm knows that. Most people outside of it too. She doesn’t care about being infamous for that. She knows that some think she is being smart, making the right choice. Most think she will change her mind. Many others think she is cold and uncaring (her constantly staring down at people probably doesn’t help, but that is her natural stance).
Made of steel, hard as stone.
She had thought about making that her motto, but her mother had vetoed it, saying that it wouldn't do to make her supposedly hard-heartedness her banner as her role as a queen would be to care for her people.
That’s yet another thing she is grateful to her mother for: showing everyone that a woman can be a great ruler and doesn’t need to have a man at her side. Their realm had flourished since Catalina the First had been at the helm on her own, a prosperity that keeps growing and shows no signs of slowing down.
It made it easier to convince nobles and people alike that Mary could and would take over, in many many years to come, and be a good queen too, without the need for her to get married. And as for heirs, well, there is always adoption. And that way she can also choose a smart one, instead of the possibility of saddling the kingdom with an idiot just because blood says they have the right. The inbreeding some of the families get up to…some people really take “keep it in the family” to the extreme.
And if Mary thinks that her father had wanted to betroth her to her own cousin…Breaking the contract had been the first thing her mother did when she had come to power. Catalina had no desire to see her only daughter marry her nephew. Charles had not minded: Mary being sixteen years younger than him and still a child meant that he would have had to wait years for her to be old enough to marry, and he wanted legitimate heirs. A year later he had married another first cousin, three years younger than him, and soon had a child. Which would have been all fine and dandy had it not been for the fact that now he was trying to have his first-born marrying Mary, age difference and blood ties only slightly less than between himself and Mary.
The second thing Catalina had done was changing the law so that not only a woman could be queen in her own right, but also that she would never be forced to marry in order to get an heir, making adoption and legitimation on par options.
Two decades later, with the lands at peace since Catalina had won the battle of Flodden, putting an end to an eight-year long conflict, and the economy thriving, the overwhelming agreement among their people (and the neighbouring ones too) is that the second-best thing the deceased King Henry did for his people had been dying...with the first one being marrying Catalina.
So yes. All in all, Mary knows she has a lot to be grateful to her mother for. Still, she could do without stupid committees talking in circle over simple matters, especially when they run over their allotted time and make her skip her usual snack time.
As she stews in her annoyance, contemplating whether she has time for a detour to the kitchens to silence her stomach’s complaints, her eyes zeroes on something she would recognise anywhere: her favourite food in the world, carried away on a tray.
A delicate puff pastry cup holding shelled, cooked, shrimps in a delicious creamy pink sauce called Marie Rose sauce, after her own name, since the dish had been created in her honour, to celebrate her birth. Mary would argue that is only right that it’s her favourite.
She could never have enough. If left up to her, she would eat those every day. Possibly only those. She once ate too many (though there is no such a thing as too many in her opinion) and got sick. An uncomfortable fullness that left space to discomfort then to burning in her stomach and nausea. Contrary to her mother’s expectations (and possibly hopes too), the experience had not turned her away from her love for them. Her mother had consequently resolved to ban them from court, except on special occasions, and only on her direct order.
And then she had to forbid her subjects from sending them as gifts to the princess, the princess from sending servants to buy them at the market for her….and from going and buying them herself.
Mary had once argued that the lengths her mother was going were insane, only for Catalina to point out that they were only in response to the lengths Mary would go to get her hands on her favourite dish.
That passion, and her hunger, is enough to push her to brave the risks and approach the banquet hall for the guests, a place she usually tries to avoid.
‘That’s mine.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said: that’s mine,’ Mary repeats. ‘It’s the last one. And I want it.’
The other girl doesn't look any more impressed than after hearing Mary saying it the first time.
‘Perhaps you could try asking nicely?’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘As it happens, I have no interest in knowing anyone who uses that phrase unironically, so problem solved.’ With a blatantly fake smile, the girl turns on her heels and walks away, without a backward glance.
Mary is left to steam and stare at her as she leaves with the last pastry in hand...only to give it to someone else.
.
‘Looking to steal my food again?’
Mary knows her mother would be appalled. She has never been known to be the nicest, but she had been taught to always mind her manners, especially with guests.
The princess is not sure what it is about the girl, but she just seems to wind her up like nobody else in her life before. She has known some extremely annoying persons, worked with some of them for years, and yet none had managed to get her fired up like this girl she had only met once, for only a couple of minutes. She doesn’t even know her name. Again, if her mother knew...the importance of knowing who is who has been impressed upon her since a young age, and yet, once again that girl is tripping her up...she totally blames her for making her forsake her mother's teachings.
There is just something about her...The attitude. The bearing. The way everyone in her party loves her. She has even seen Margaret Lee, Queen Anne’s closest advisor, smiling at her. And that woman seems to have a perpetual scowl on her face, even more than Mary. And it’s not limited to Queen Anne’s people, she seems to have won hearts in Mary’s household too!
...What? Keep a close eye on the enemy! She has not forgotten all of her training, thank you very much.
‘The food was there for the guests to take. I’m a guest. I took it.’
‘You didn’t even eat it.’ Mary glowers at the memory. The affront…and for what? Nothing!
‘Perhaps if you had asked nicely, I would have given it to you.’
‘Are you always this rude to people you don’t know?’
‘Are you?’ the girl bites back.
‘Your Highness, I apologise for the interruption, but Her Majesty the Queen has requested your presence.’
‘I will join my mother shortly,’ Mary replies without removing her eyes from the other girl, a smug, expectant expression on her face.
The girl looks back at her unimpressed. ‘Still no interest.’
Once again, Mary is left staring at her retreating back. Surprisingly, even to herself, she is not furious...or even offended. While she is annoyed, she is also...curious. Most people, especially those who don’t know her well, are intimated by her. Her stern countenance, if you were to put it nicely. She knows people have said worse thinking she wouldn’t hear or wouldn’t learn about it, especially rejected prospects. But honestly, she doesn’t care. It’s not something she is proud of (well, maybe a little bit), but it served her well.
She is constantly surrounded by people who are deferential to a fault, no matter what, just because of her role. Either because they fear what she could do if they behaved otherwise, or because they want something from her.
But not the girl. No, she is clearly not impressed by her rank, not interested in sucking up, nor in making connections, she is just...raw. Perhaps only her mother has ever been so…genuine with her.
‘What did you do to her?’
‘Nothing!’ Mary can’t help the defensive tone. Mentally she curses the silent way her mother’s advisor –and best friend– moves. She hadn’t even heard her joining her; she never does, unless Maria wants it so.
Maria looks at her unconvinced and Mary can surmise she didn’t miss how, before departing, the girl had nodded at her just like she had nodded at the servant who had interrupted them. A lack of respect that she is sure raised questions almost as much as her lack of reaction to the slight.
Time for a diversion. ‘Do you know what my mother wants?’
/
‘She said no.’
Mary had only heard that voice twice in her life, but it had never been more welcome. She realises only after she has done it, that she had unconsciously stepped closer to the newcomer, putting more distance between herself and the young man in front of them.
‘And who are you?’ Said guy is clearly not as pleased as Mary by the interruption.
‘Nobody you need to concern yourself with, as you are leaving now.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Not another one,’ the girl mutters. ‘You are the person who was leaving,’ she then repeats in an even voice, sounding almost bored. If he had been aiming for intimidation, he had utterly failed.
‘And if I don’t?’ He postures, trying to hide how throw off he is by the girl’s attitude. Mary doesn’t know how she feels to learn that it is not something reserved just for her.
‘I will alert the guards that you have been harassing the princess.’
‘I was not!’ Mary would like to disagree. His insistence had quickly turned to harassment. ‘And they wouldn’t believe you over me! You’re nobody!’
‘Oh, really?’ the girl doesn’t seem fazed. ‘Who do you think they would believe? The nobody who says that she saw a man harassing the princess or said man claiming that he was not?’
He doesn't reply, probably seeing her point, but looks at Mary.
‘Perhaps we should return to the ball, we have been away for too long.’
At Mary’s words, the girl offers her arm.
‘Philip,’ Mary nods at him, getting a reluctant bow in response. She is not surprised to see that the girl gives him only the tiniest nod, before leading her away.
‘Keeping an eye on me?’ Mary can’t help piping up, quite smugly, as soon as she is sure they are out of sight and earshot.
The girl immediately drops her arm. ‘Still not interested, I simply cannot stand men who cannot take a no for an answer.’
‘Regardless...thank you.’ She has manners! And as much as Mary prides herself in being strong and independent, short of shouting at him, calling the guards, or hitting him, she was not seeing any other choice to have him leaving her alone, since simply using her words clearly was not working. ‘Do you really not know who he is?’
‘Most importantly,’ she levels a look at Mary, ‘I do not care.’ She steps aside, the noise of the ballroom reaching them even through the closed doors. ‘Here you are, delivered safe and sound.’
‘Are you not coming in?’
‘As I said, I cannot stand men who cannot take no for an answer,’
Mary frowns. She doesn’t like the sound of it, not one bit.
‘–and I don’t think anyone would appreciate me causing a scene as they get put in their place,’ she carries on.
‘Is that why you don’t tell anyone who you are, where you are from?’
Mary relishes in the confused expression on the girl’s face, happy for once to have been the one taking the other aback.
‘To avoid diplomatic incidents,’ she adds as the girl keeps staring at her puzzled.
She had been serious, but the girl bursts out laughing, and Mary has to wonder...Has she always been that beautiful?