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Chapter Text

Waking up to clammy skin and a rolling stomach could only mean one thing, she was with child, again. Considering how she had just barely managed to escape the gallows only weeks before, Catherine could not determine if she was happy about this prospect yet or not. At 40, she did not know if she could handle the rigors of pregnancy while trying to ensure that her son Francis inherited the throne. And of course, there was the dreaded errand of telling Henry that they were expecting another child.

Catherine walked to the washing bowl and splashed cold water on her face and against the pulse points of her wrists, hoping to ease some of her nauseousness. She must collect herself. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was going through the change that older women talked about. But a doubt in the back of her mind told her she wasn't quite old enough for that, just yet.

Calling for her maids, she proceeded to get dressed. She knew what she must do or rather who she should see.

"Is it true, then? I am really with child?" Catherine asked Nostradamus.

"It appears so your majesty," he replied. "The babe will make an appearance in about 7 months time."

Catherine thought how she would be fat and frumpy during the hot months of summer. She much preferred the winter births of her last two children. You were already hot all the time when you got that big. The cold was a breath of fresh air to an overheated woman in the last months of her confinement. Not that she had ever truly been in confinement while expecting. Well, except for when she was expecting Clarissa. Other than that, she was out and about ruling as usual. She was strong-willed and never let a little bout of morning sickness keep her from her duties as queen.

"Well, that is that, then," she replied, getting ready to leave.

"If your majesty would like, I could help you brew a potion..."

Catherine immediately froze on her way to the door. She laid her hand on her stomach for a moment, before turning to answer Nostradamus. "That will not be necessary."

Nostradamus nodded his head, "Of course, your majesty."

"Your majesty, I have heard that Diane will be returning from Paris any day now," one of her guards reported. "She is coming back to see her son and no doubt the King as well."

"Yes, she never seems quite able to fully detach herself from him. Well, let me know when she returns to the castle." With the slightest of movements from her hand, she dismissed the guard.

Sinking slowly into her chair, she sighed wearily. Would she ever be free of Diane? The woman had practically insinuated herself into her marriage almost from day one. The other woman was a master manipulator, almost as good as herself, and had wrapped Henry around her finger with barely any effort at all.

Catherine remembered the moment she had found out about them. She had noticed their flirtations at dinners and celebrations but in her naive mind she had thought it was just that...a flirtation. But one day she had gone looking for her husband. She had planned a riding trip and a picnic as a way of apologizing for the fights they had been having over her not conceiving. In her own way, she wanted to show him that she still cared, still loved him. But there was no picnic that day. When she had gone up to knock on her husband's door, his guards had halted her saying that he did not want to be disturbed. She had waited around the corner for an hour until she saw Diane walk out of the room, her hair slightly mussed. Catherine remembered biting her lip until it bled to keep the tears at bay. That was the moment she knew her family's words were true - love was just a delusion.

Of course that had happened back when Henry actually cared about keeping his mistresses a secret. Eventually, his anger and resentment towards her caused him to cease caring and he began to openly flaunt his mistresses in front of her. Then, of course, there was the added horror of his mistress getting pregnant before she did. That confirmed that the problems that they were having conceiving were solely on her end. It was around that time that she had begun to seek comfort in Richard.

And now, Catherine knew for a fact that Diane's latest visit wouldn't be a temporary one. No doubt she wanted to be reinstated as Henry's head mistress. Well, let her have him, she thought. She certainly did not want him. Catherine swiped at the tears that were beginning to spill down her cheeks. Curse this wretched pregnancy! It was making her weak.

Standing up and straightening her dress, Catherine resolved not to let this news distress her any further. Henry could see his mistress all he liked. It didn't change the fact that she was still the queen and she was the one in power.

She had planned to tell Henry of the child that they would soon be expecting, but realized that her announcement would fall on deaf ears whenever Diane was near. It could wait. She would not be showing for a few months anyways.

Henry's eyes searched the room for his wife. The palace was throwing a dinner for important foreign ambassadors and his wife was no where to be seen. It would look unseemly if his wife did not show. As much as he adored Diane, dignitaries often looked down upon her as she was only his mistress. As he had overheard one duke so delightfully put it, "I did not come to eat with the King and his whore, but the royal couple."

Generally, he would not care what others thought, but this particular duke had a lot of sway in the foreign trade markets and he did not want to upset him. He motioned for his guard to approach. Henry asked, "Where is my wife?"

"She has not left her bedchambers all day your majesty. Nostradamus is tending to her."

Henry shook his head. Nostradamus. Of course, she was with Nostradamus. That man's lips were perpetually glued to her ass. He did not particularly care for doctors especially quack ones like his wife tended to find. And this one thought he had the gift of seeing. If Nostradamus wasn't careful, he would be seeing his own beheading.

Turning to his guard, he said, "Summon my wife. She is expected at this meal."

"Yes, your majesty."

Catherine closed her eyes, relishing the cold, wet cloth that Nostradamus used to mop her brow. After a full day of nauseousness, she had no strength left but to simply lie on her bed.

"Thank you, Nostradamus. I don't know why this pregnancy is more difficult than the others. I have never been this sick before. I am usually quite fit and active during my pregnancies."

Nostradamus shrugged. "Each pregnancy is different. I expect you will soon be feeling much better in a month or so."

Catherine opened her eyes and stared drolly at him. "A month or so? I do not have a month or so. In fact, I do not even truly have a day to rest. At this moment, I should be dining with the King and our visitors."

"That is true, but babies have a way of changing everyone's plans." Nostradamus paused before murmuring, "It is not too late for me to fix this problem so it won't be a bother to you any longer."

"I have told you before that will not be necessary," Catherine snapped. "If you ask me again, I shall have you..."

In the midst of Catherine's words, a knock came upon the door and one of the King's guards entered. "Your majesty, the king requests your presence at dinner."

Nostradamus rose from his kneeling position. "I am afraid the queen is in no fit position to attend. Please make excuses for her."

The guard looked anxiously at Catherine. "Your majesty?"

Waving a hand at him, Catherine replied, "Do as he says."

After the guard had left, Catherine took his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you," she murmured.

"You're welcome. Now, you must rest."

Catherine nodded as she closed her eyes.

"Are you glad I am back?" Diane asked Henry.

Henry nodded. "Yes, but I fear that my wife is punishing me for your return. She knew how important this dinner is for France. Damn her. I should have had her head while I had the chance."

Diane smiled. "You are king. That could still be arranged."

"Your majesty," the guard said when he approached the King. "I have been to see the queen and it appears that she is feeling unwell. Nostradamus advised that she should stay in bed."

Anger rose in Henry. That manipulative cow. Only she would be so cruel as to humiliate him like this. It was a constant game of one-upmanship between the two of them. Well, she would not win tonight. If he had to dress her himself, she would be at this dinner.

Henry stood up, but paused a moment as Diane touched his arm. "Henry, don't be angry. Let her throw her tantrum. We can continue on without her. Mary and Francis are here."

He shook himself free of her grasp. "No. I will not let her get away with this. She will be joining us for dinner."

Spinning on his heel, he made his way up the flights of stairs to her chamber. Not bothering to knock, he swung open the door. He was surprised to find the fire the only light in the room. Turning towards the bed, he rested his gaze upon a sleeping Catherine. Funny how sleep made her seem so young, so fragile, almost innocent. He quickly shook off that notion. There was nothing fragile or innocent about Catherine. She was a strong, determined woman who would probably out live them all.

"Wake up, Catherine," he barked.

At his voice, she startled awake. Her eyes were hazy at first. "Henry?" she croaked.

"Get up. You should have been at this dinner an hour ago."

"I...I am not feeling well," Catherine faltered.

"Don't pretend to be a martyr Catherine. I have learned to recognize when you are playing me."

"Truly. I do not feel well enough to attend dinner."

Catherine's wan face had a slight sheen of sweat that almost made him believe her words. But past experience had taught him to never fully trust her. To always be suspicious. Her sickly appearance was most likely an illusion that Nostradamus had helped her create.

"I don't care," Henry spat. "Get up. Or shall I drag you out of bed myself."

His wife looked warily at him, realized he spoke the truth, and finally began to get out of her bed. "Send my maids in here and I will be down shortly."

"Good," he replied, but before he left he grabbed her by the arms tightly, giving her a little shake. "And don't you ever pull this kind of stunt again, do you understand? I am the King. You do as I wish."

To his surprise, Catherine did not spit fire back at him as she was wont to do.. Making him wonder for the second time that evening if she was indeed truly unwell.

Catherine held her head high as she walked towards her seat at the King's table. She ignored the murmurs of the guests. She knew that she must look like death warmed over, but she did not care. All she wanted was for this evening to be over and to go back to her soft, comfortable bed.

"Your majesty," Diane acknowledged.

Catherine only nodded. She did not trust herself to speak. The stench of roast game had hit her nostrils. She had not eaten in over a day and tonight's feast would certainly not be tempting her to try.

"Sit down, Catherine," Henry ordered.

Catherine quietly obeyed. Her will to fight gone. Instead, she plastered a fake smile across her face as she greeted the dignitaries from across the continent.

Throughout the evening, Henry's gaze kept drifting back to his wife. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something wasn't quite right about Catherine. She hadn't verbally jousted with him even though he had thrown a few good barbs her way. She had not touched her food which was surprising because she loved roasted meats. Her favorite, venison, was on the table but she had turned up her nose at it and refused to taste even a bite of it. And of course Nostradamus was ever at her side, watching over her like a hawk.

At the end of the dinner, Henry watched as Nostradamus helped a slightly shaky Catherine stand up. Yes, there was something amiss with his wife. He would not feel at ease until he discovered what it was.

Chapter Text

Francis strolled into his mother's private chambers. Her latest plot against Mary was still making him seethe. When would his mother understand she could not destroy Mary? And she could most certainly not control him. He knew that everything his mother did was out of love, but her heavy handedness and scheming was too much.

"Mother," he called. "You really must stop."

Catherine turned, looking all innocent. "Stop what, my dear?"

"Stop plaguing my bethrothed. Whether you like it or not, we are to be married. Father has ruled that it shall be so. No amount of plotting on your end can keep us apart."

His mother approached and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Everything I do is for you and your brothers. To protect your rightful inheritance."

Francis shrugged off his mother's hand. "Really? Plotting to have Mary's illegitimate brother usurp her on the throne is in my best interest? If she loses her crown, then father and therefore France will no longer have any need for her. I will have to marry another."

"I am sure you will find the strength to move on."

"Your obsessive determination to get rid of Mary only makes me love her more, you know."

The queen grimaced at his words. "That may well be true, but it won't stop me from trying to protect you."

"From what?" Francis yelled as he approached the window where his mother stood. "From the crackpot visions of the court seer? Father was right. He is nothing but a quack."

Spinning on her heel, Catherine turned to face him. "I don't think he is a quack," she asserted. "He speaks the truth. Mary will be the death of you. I don't know what I would do if..."

Francis watched stunned as his mother suddenly doubled over in pain and scurried over to an empty chamber pot to empty the contents of her stomach.

Rushing over to his mother, he helped her take a seat and called for the servants to tend to her. "Mother? Are you alright?" he asked, slightly panicked by her sudden show of weakness.

Sipping the water the maid handed to her, she smiled weakly. "Yes, I am perfectly fine. I have just been feeling a tad under the weather recently. It is nothing for you to worry about though."

"Have you seen a doctor?" he asked, kneeling at her side.

"Yes, Nostradamus has been providing me with excellent care."

Francis scoffed. "I doubt that. Shall I go find you a real doctor?"

"That won't be necessary dear, but I would like to rest."

Francis stood making his way to leave. "I am sorry that you feel unwell, but it does not mean that I will forget about what you are doing. All you did was earn a little time to hopefully realize the error of your ways."

"Up to your tricks again, Catherine?" Henry queried as they sat in the throne room waiting for the guards to let their subjects in.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Henry," his wife claimed.

The King laughed humorlessly. "Of course, that is always what you say. Yet, I know better. What is this communication with Scotland then? To Mary's illegitimate brother, the Earl of Moray? Do not deny that you have tried to write them. I have your letters in my chambers."

Catherine stumbled for words. This time the King laughed in good humor. It was a rare and spectacular sight to see his wife at a loss for words. It was not often he could best her.

"Be that as it may. How is it any different than what you have done? Hmm? As I recall, you tried to make your own bastard son legitimate for reasons of state. I was just helping the good folks in Scotland do the same."

Henry's smile turned into a sneer. "That would be unwise. You know how much England means to me, to France. I will crush any one who gets in the way of my chance at England. Even you, my dear wife."

Catherine threw a wary glance at him. Over the past couple of months, she had learned how ruthless he could truly be. "Well, my plans obviously did not succeed as you have anticipated my moves before I even make them. Mary is still queen. England is still a possibility."

"Not so fast Catherine. I do not expect you to concede so easily or so quickly. In fact, I suspect you are at this moment concocting a new plan. Methinks I must do something to halt any other plans you may make."

Henry smiled at the nervous look that Catherine shot him. How he loved seeing her squirm. "Hmm, what shall I do to ensure that my son marries Mary? Shall I lock you up? No, I have done that before. Lot of good that did me. Sending you to a convent wasn't a good idea either." Leaning to whisper in her ear, he said, "The only way I can truly make sure that you are under control is if you are under me. Mayhap I should tie you to my bed? Would you like that my pet?" he asked as he ran his hand up her thigh.

A look of utter shock passed over his wife's face. Her mouth opened and closed. Outraged, she slapped his hand away. "Can't you bother Diane or Kenna when you feel the urge to rut?"

Henry chuckled loudly as his wife struggled to compose herself. He loved flustering her and making her cheeks turn bright pink. Ever since they had sex a month ago, he couldn't keep his mind off of her. He wanted her again. Even after finding out about her betrayal, he still couldn't shake the sweetness of their time together. The flames of their passion had always burned bright. Their abstinences were long, but when they found their way back to each other it always shook him to his core.

But he had tried to kill her and had had her ex-lover beheaded. The likelihood that she would want to be intimate with him so soon after those events was extremely unlikely. In all honesty, he shouldn't be wanting her as badly as he did after what he had discovered. Yet he did. Even with Diane around to tend to his needs, more often than not he went to bed dreaming of his wife.

Maybe tying her to the bed wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

"Father, you needn't be so cruel," Francis said.

Henry shrugged at his son's words. "Your mother needn't be the conniving wench that she is, but she is and you still love her. How many times has she tried to harm your fiancee? Yet you still forgive her."

"I know, but exiling Nostradamus is a bit much. Don't you think? He is literally Mother's only friend."

Henry sighed. He knew what he was doing was extreme to say the least but he did not know if he could endure seeing Nostradamus coddling his wife anymore. His loyalty and devotion coupled with her tenderness and respect for the court seer made him literally shake with jealousy and rage. He still could not rid himself of the memory of her so tenderly bringing water to Nostradamus's lips or the gentle way she had wiped the excess moisture from his beard. Why did she never touch him like that? Why was it such a rarity for her to touch him at all?

"Nostradamus's leaving will be a good thing. It will curtail your mother's power even further."

"I don't know what is going on between you two, but the constant vengefulness must make you both weary. Mother has slackened off quite considerably. I think you should do the same."

Henry scoffed. "I will not take orders from my teenage son."

Francis, angered by his father's words, stood squarely in front of him. "You might not take orders from me but I pray you will listen to what I have to say. Mother is not feeling well. I have seen it with my own eyes. She has been nauseous in the mornings for the past week. You should show her more kindness."

"So she has got to you then with her charade."

"It is not a charade. She truly does not feel well. And if you cared enough about her, then you would know that. The last thing she needs is to be upset like this. I do not like Nostradamus much myself, but do remember he helped Bash in his time of need. I suppose he is doing the same for Mother even as we speak."

"Yes, well...I will take your words into consideration."

"Father, just...just be nice."

Henry rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room.

"Your son thinks I should be nicer to you," Henry said as he entered Catherine's private chambers and closed the door.

Catherine had just changed into her nightclothes and was intending to settle in for an early night. Reaching for her dressing gown, she wrapped it tightly about herself. It unnerved her for her husband to see her likethis. It wasn't like he hadn't before. In fact, it had not been so long since he'd seen her in her all together. But he made her nervous, almost shy, like she had been when they'd first wed. There was something so manly about him that she was slightly scared but also a little turned on.

"Well, he is right. You should listen to him more often."

"He says you are not feeling well. He says you are throwing up in the mornings."

"It is nothing to worry about. I feel much stronger than I did last week."

Henry approached her, closing the distance between them. He grabbed the tie at the top of her gown and began to play with it. Catherine's heart beat began to race and her breathing suddenly became labored. She willed herself not to be affected by this man.

"Yet you are going to bed already and the sun did not even go down an hour ago. Also, it has not escaped my notice that your appetite has changed. You look like you have lost some weight."

"That was last week. I am...I am feeling better now," Catherine breathed. She didn't know why she didn't just tell him about the baby. But her pride and anger at possibly losing Nostradamus kept her from saying anything.

"No doubt Nostradamus helped you feel better?" Henry sneered, dropping the tie and turning his back to her. "You spend too much time with him. I think exiling him to another country will be a good thing for you."

Catherine's hackles rose. He had touched upon a sore spot with her. She was losing her one true confidant due to his pettiness. "You would think that wouldn't you? What has Nostradamus ever done to you? Why must you continue to punish me? Is this because of Richard? Because if it is, then you are quite the hypocrite. You can whore around, but I can not enjoy the same pleasures?"

Henry's face twisted with rage as he grabbed her about the waist, squeezing her tightly. "Do not speak to me of your betrayal!"

Panicked, Catherine tried her best to break free from his grasp. "Henry,' she gasped. "Let go! You're hurting me."

"Good," he said as he squeezed harder. "Maybe you will remember your husband's wrath the next time you consider taking a lover."

Concern for her unborn child's wellbeing made her sob, "Henry, please...let go of me."

Henry's grip immediately loosened, but he did not fully let her go. He had been surprised by her pleading. Catherine never begged. His eyes searched hers. "What is wrong? You aren't acting like yourself. You haven't been yourself for a while now."

"It's not like it is my choosing. I didn't ask for this."

Henry threw up his hands. "Didn't ask for what? I have no earthly idea what you are talking about.'

Irritated, Catherine snapped, "I'm going to have another baby, Henry."

Chapter Text

Catherine would have laughed at Henry's dumbfounded expression if she hadn't been so exasperated.

"A...a baby?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we were together only that one time."

"Consider it a testament to your virility," Catherine replied drolly.

Ignoring her sarcasm, Henry questioned further, "Are you certain? Are you truly with child?"

"As certain as I can be. I have not had my menses for two months now. And Nostradamus has confirmed it."

"I see. That is why he has been glued to your side...Are you happy? About the baby?"

"Not particularly," Catherine confessed, "considering you would have had me killed if not for the return of our son. When you realized that your bastard son would never be made legitimate, you all of a sudden realized the error of your ways. That you could never get hold of England without Francis. I owe my life to my son. You probably still would have had me killed even after Francis had returned, if he hadn't warned you not to."

There was a reason she didn't trust people and what he had done was the exact reason she did not trust him. She knew her betrayal had stung him, but it wasn't like she had done something he hadn't already done a thousand times over.

"Well, Catherine, you are still alive. You are still my queen. And the fact that my child is in your belly means you will stay that way for a while." Smirking, he added, "At least until the babe is born."

Catherine was not amused by his joke. It was another reason why she had to always be on her guard. She could never feel safe with him. She never knew what he might do. This child could be her one and only life line.

"I jest, of course. It seems as if you will be at my side until the day I die."

"That day can not come soon enough," muttered Catherine.

Henry chuckled. "Who will you have to plot against if I am not around?...I must go tend to some matters, but I must say I am glad you're getting your spunk back. I wouldn't know what to do with a meek and obedient wife."

"Go to hell," Catherine spat. "Does the fact that I am carrying your child have no influence on you? Must you always try to rile me?"

"I am afraid I must. It is the one thing that I actually enjoy about our marriage."

Catherine grabbed the comb off her dresser and threw it as hard as she could at his retreating back. Unfortunately, she'd never had much aim.

"Insufferable idiot," she muttered as she crept back towards her bed. Well, at least he knows about the baby now, she thought to herself. Now, she just had to find a way to have Nostradamus stay.

His wife was having a baby. Why did that astonish him so much? It wasn't like this was their first child. Far from it. Maybe he was astounded because this child had actually been conceived in love or at least the memory of the love they'd once shared. Unlike their other offspring who had been conceived out of duty, this experience was new. He remembered their time together with fondness even though the sting of her betrayal was still in the back of his mind.

After everything had gone to hell in a handbasket, things were finally returning to normal except for this latest news. What was he going to do? he thought to himself as he opened the door to Diane's room. Would he and Catherine go back to what they had been? Barely polite enemies.

Henry sat down on the bed knowing that that wasn't what he wanted to do. Deep down, he wished things were different between them. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to still be that young man who had been so in love with her all those years ago. A smile passed across his face as he thought about the changes the baby would bring. Catherine's body had always been a source of joy for him with all her womanly curves, but when she was pregnant that's when he desired her the most, that was when she was the most lush and lovely. Her full breasts, the glow about her, her shiny hair, and the growing bump that declared to everyone that yes, indeed, she had lain beneath him.

His mind was still lost in thoughts of Catherine's beauty when he felt a pair of warm hands on his shoulders. He felt Diane's kiss on his cheek, but did not return it as he usually did. He considered telling her of Catherine's pregnancy, but quickly decided against it since he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it just yet.

"You look tired," Diane observed. "Lie down and I will help you relax," she whispered as she nuzzled his neck and slipped her hand down to the waistband of his pants.

Oddly enough, Henry did not feel in the mood to fool around. At least not with Diane. Gently, he pushed her hand away from his nether region.

"Not now," he murmured, standing up and starting to undress for bed. "It has been a long day. I would just like to rest."

Diane looked at him warily, sensing his dishonesty, but nodded and replied, "I shall pull down the covers."

Catherine heard the door creak open and frantically began to search for something to throw at the intruder. Finding nothing, she instead screamed a warning, "Get out!"

She was in a heap on the floor near the chamber pot, sweaty with her hair in complete disarray. The child within her continued daily to make his presence known.

She heard stern footsteps approaching and instantly knew that it was her husband who had entered. Great, she thought, he is the last person whom I wish to see.

"Good morning, Catherine," Henry greeted as he looked down at her. "I can't say you look lovely, but I no longer doubt that you are with child."

The words filled Catherine with ire. The only reason she looked like this, felt like this was because of his lustful appetites. That pig! Words of fire ready to fly from her lips instantly froze as Henry bent down and offered her a hand, "Let's get you off the floor."

Catherine wouldn't be fooled by his sudden kindness. She knew the man that he was deep inside. Slapping his hand away, she replied, "I do not require assistance from you. You black-hearted, disgusting, wretched..."

She did not get a chance to finish her sentence for the very few contents that were left in her stomach were at that moment on their way back up. As her sickness continued, she almost sighed as her hair was scooped and lifted off her face and nape. A big hand rubbed circles on her back and reassurances were whispered in her ear.

When at last her stomach was settled, she sat up and wiped her mouth with the towel Henry offered her. "I hate you," she moaned. "This is all your fault."

"I know," he whispered, wrapping his arms about her and nuzzling her neck. Catherine's heart began to beat erratically as Henry's hand covered her stomach. After a few moments, she covered his hand with her own. A soft smile graced her face as she felt him brush his lips against her cheek. For a time, she forgot her bitterness and mistrust. For a time, she forgot her doubts and suspicions. For a time, she simply loved her husband and their unborn child.

But happiness never did last long. A knock on the door promptly pushed them back into reality. Catherine made to stand up, taking the hand that Henry offered her this time.

"That would be my maid. Duty calls no matter how poorly I feel. Was there something you wished to discuss with me...?"

Henry shook his head. "No, I just wanted to check on you."

"Well, as you can see, I am clearly fine. I will be down to breakfast within the half hour."

Henry nodded before pivoting and walking towards the door. When he opened the door, the maid's eyes grew big in shock. The king in the queen's bedroom? How shocking!

Diane sat alone in her bed trying to read, but internally stewing. It had been days since Henry had visited her, even longer since they had made love. Ordinarily that would not worry her. From time to time, Henry's interests would veer elsewhere as was the case with Kenna. She knew he would always come back to her, but this time felt different. There was no young maiden he had his eye on, no courtesan he was trying to woo. In fact, she had heard ludicrous rumors that Henry had been seen leaving Catherine's room earlier this week. She knew with certainty that there was no competition there. Henry preferred his women to appear weak and moldable to his will. Catherine's outspokenness and independence were a turn off for him. He wanted soft and sweet not hard and cold.

Yet something was wrong. If he wasn't sleeping with a new mistress, then why wasn't he sleeping with her? Thoughts of legitimizing Bash entered her mind. Maybe he was regretting pursuing that. The pope had been adamant that he would never allow Bash to become legitimate even considering Catherine's infidelity. After the pope's declaration, Henry had reinstated Francis as his successor and had forced Mary to betroth herself to his son once more. All had gone back to normal or so it seemed. Yet Diane still doubted Henry. Maybe he was upset with Bash. Maybe he would seek revenge against him for the plans that had gone awry.

A mother's worry and a lover's doubt flooded her system, causing her to rise from her bed. Grabbing her dressing gown, she headed towards Henry's room.

Henry was studying the contracts that he'd received earlier that day when he heard a knock on the door. Getting up from his chair, he went to open the door. He was slightly surprised to see his mistress standing there.

"Diane..."

"May I come in?" she asked.

Henry stepped back, allowing her entrance. He did not sit, just stood. He was busy and hoped her visit would not last long.

"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked.

Diane smiled coquettishly. "No. Rather something I can do for you," she replied as her hand skimmed his chest. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him with passion. Henry allowed the kiss, but was not in the mood for what she had in mind which surprised him. He was almost always in the mood, but now his desire could only be assuaged by one woman and she was not present.

Stepping back, Diane's eyes flamed. "Do not try to deceive me. I know something is amiss. You have not shared my bed in days. Tell me. Are you out to seek revenge against my son? Against me?"

Henry walked away from her, rolling his eyes. Of course, the seduction was all part of her plan to secure herself, to safeguard her son.

"You need not worry. You are safe and so is Bash."

Flummoxed, Diane opened and closed her mouth. "Then, why haven't you been to see me?"

Turning back to her, he replied, "I have simply not been interested."

"Do you have a new mistress?" she inquired.

A short bark of laughter escaped his lips. "No. I do not."

Diane rushed to him, grabbing his arms. "Then, tell me. Why have you not come to see me?"

"I have had other things on my mind," he confessed truthfully.

"Like what?"

Taking a deep breath, Henry realized he would have to tell her sooner rather than later if he wanted any peace. "Catherine is with child."

Diane gasped, surprised at his announcement. Then, a shrewd look came to her eyes. "Is the child yours?" she spat. "Or Richard's?"

Chapter Text

A shot of anger flared through Henry's veins. The mere mention of that bastard's name drove him mad. The fact that his mistress was using that very name so carelessly caused him to look at her with suspicion. Why did she suspect that the child in his wife's womb was not his? How did she know that Richard and Catherine had been lovers when he, the king of France, had not known for years?

As Henry quietly seethed, Diane continued, "I heard about the whole thing while still in Paris. You finding out about Clarissa and how she wasn't yours, but Richard's. I know that he was even here for a few days before you found out about their affair. He had plenty of opportunity to bed her before his death, did he not?"

Henry recognized the logic in her words. Richard had fooled him into believing that he hated Catherine so he had thought nothing of letting Richard interrogate Catherine privately. That swine! Richard had probably been laughing his head off at how gullible he was while all the while he was romping with his wife.

Taking a piece of pottery from a nearby shelf, Henry hurled it against the wall. Watching it fall and break into pieces was oddly cathartic. If Richard were still alive, he'd smash his head just like he'd done with the pot.

Diane jumped back, shocked at Henry's actions. Ignoring the spark of fear in her eyes, Henry approached her and grabbed her arms, giving her a slight shake. "How long have you known about them?" he asked.

Diane's eyes averted his own. "I...I don't know what you are speaking of...I had just found out from letters from my friends at court. I...I never knew."

"Did you really not know this whole time? That my wife was cheating on me with my closest friend?" he asked, shaking her again.

"No, Henry. I didn't. I swear. I would have told you. Please...you're hurting me," she whimpered.

He dropped her arm abruptly. "If I find out that you lied to me, so help me..." Henry warned before storming out of the room.

Catherine was taking a turn around the garden with her eldest son, Francis, feeling the best she had in weeks. She had even been able to eat more than a few bites of bread for her morning meal which was a great improvement. Maybe this pregnancy would not be so harsh after all.

"Mother, I must say I am glad you are backing off from helping Mary's half brother take the throne. I don't know if it was your doing or father's, but either way I am grateful."

Catherine nodded. Her son was more astute than she often gave him credit for being. Henry and she had called a truce. She would back off from dethroning Mary and he would let her keep Nostradamus at the castle. But honestly, she considered it a temporary truce. Once this child was born, she would have more energy to focus on removing her son's betrothed from his life.

"I am also glad you are feeling better. I was quite worried there for a few days. You did not seem well at all. I suspected you might be in true danger. Although we have our disagreements, I do love you Mother."

A smile lit Catherine's face. She stood on tip toe to kiss her son's cheek. He was a good and kind boy which was why she loved him so much.

"Francis, there was no need to worry. It was only a problem common to all women in my condition."

Francis crinkled his nose, looking at her in confusion. "Your condition?"

"Yes, I am expecting."

"Expecting what?" he asked, still perplexed.

Catherine rolled her eyes. Maybe her son was not as smart as she had thought. "A child, Francis. Your father and I are expecting another child."

Her son attempted to swallow, but instead went into a frenzy of coughing. Catherine firmly patted his back until his coughing fit ceased.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve (a personal pet peeve of Catherine's that Francis had inherited from his father), he said, "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect...You and father aren't young any more and you two seem to hate each other...I don't know...It's just a surprise."

"I didn't expect this to happen either, but this is what the fates have in store for me."

"Well, um, I guess it will be nice to have another brother or sister," Francis remarked.

"Yes, a new friend for your younger siblings to play with. Although..." Catherine's voice trailed as she saw a visibly angry Henry approaching them. What now, she sighed.

"Francis, I need to speak to your mother privately," Henry said as he grabbed her hand and started marching towards the pond.

Their son looked bewildered for a moment, but said to his father's retreating back, "Mother told me the news. Congratulations."

"Whatever," Henry muttered under his breath, continuing his forceful escort of Catherine to the edge of the water.

Spinning her around, he spat, "Whose child do you carry? Mine or that horse's arse, Richard's?"

The question did not surprise Catherine. In light of Henry's discovery of her affair, she could not blame her husband for thinking the babe in her belly might be someone's other than his.

"It is your child I carry," Catherine admitted.

Henry scoffed. "And why should I believe you?"

"Because it is the truth," Catherine replied evenly.

Henry looked over at his wife expecting her to be angry and ready to spit fire. Instead, he saw a calm and subdued woman whose small hand was covering the very slight swell of her belly.

"How can you be sure? I know that Richard visited you alone while he was supposedly interrogating you. I imagine he wanted to get in one final screw before you were beheaded."

Catherine sighed and replied as nonchalantly as she could, "You might think that, but we were not intimate during that time and haven't been for many years."

Laughing hollowly, Henry's eyes blazed. "I will admit that you are good, Catherine. Good at lying. You have tricked me before and I swore to myself I would never believe another word you uttered."'

"Whether you believe it or not, this child is yours."

"Prove it," Henry spat.

Catherine shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You know that is not something I can do at this moment, but you will see in a few months that the baby is clearly yours."

"Until I see the child with my own eyes, I won't acknowledge it as mine. As far as I and the court are concerned you're carrying another bastard," Henry said before walking off.

Catherine stared up at the ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks. Part of her felt a fury akin to nothing she had felt before. How dare he not claim his child! She knew Henry and knew that he would relish humiliating her in front of the court, of telling everyone that the child in her belly was not his. Curse him to hell! She wished that she had in fact slept with Richard. But there was another part of her, a part of her that still loved Henry who was mourning what might have been. The kind words and gentle touches from the other day were not the start of a new beginning for them like she had so passionately wished. Her affair with Richard had forever changed the way her husband looked at her. If only she could go back in time...

She had allowed Richard's attentions because she had been so desperately lonely. Bearing the Medici name meant that she would always have more enemies than friends. With no children and Henry's affections directed elsewhere, she lived a very solitary existence in the castle but Richard had changed all that. He had become her best friend, someone she could laugh with and confide in. He was and forever would be dear to her. She had trusted him like she could never trust Henry. She loved him because he was her friend and he understood her, but it was not the passionate, all-consuming, and jealousy-ridden love that she felt for Henry.

During their time together, she had been intimate with Richard only a handful of times at his request and after Clarissa, they had not been intimate at all for obvious reasons. Truthfully, she would have been content to have never slept with him at all because the act of intimacy was not all that appealing to her. The few times she had found satisfaction in that exercise had been in Henry's arms. Their last time together had been one of those times. But of course, he thought she had slept with the other man around the same time she had slept with him. She had kissed and held Richard, but they had not done more than that in over 17 years.

She had been completely honest with Henry and he hadn't believed a word she'd said. She didn't know why she cared so much. They had been unhappy for such a long time that she didn't expect anything to change, but for some reason this time she wanted things to change, wanted it more than her next breath.

Chapter Text

"Mama?" Henry Jr. whispered, shaking a slumbering Catherine.

Catherine slowly opened her eyes, not particularly happy to see her youngest child. "Yes, dear," she replied.

"I'm bored. Do you want to play with me?"

Patting his hand, she replied, "Not now, dearest. Mother is tired."

"Why are you so tired?" he asked.

At that moment, her second youngest child, Charles, entered the room. "Henry!" he scolded. "What are you doing here? Francis said we need to leave Mother alone so she can get some rest."

"I know, but I don't understand why she is tired all the time. She used to play with us every day, but now she never does. It's all that stupid baby's fault!" he cried before kicking the chair next to the bed.

Startled by her youngest son's actions, Catherine sat up. Henry was usually a shy and gentle boy not that one would know that by his current actions. Patting the spots next to her on the bed, she said, "Come here and sit beside me. You too, Charles."

Her sons did as they were told with Henry Jr. leaning heavily against her. His head rested against her ever-increasing mound. Catherine gently stroked his hair and gave him a squeeze. A sob choked out of his little body.

A twinge of guilt pierced her heart. Since entering her fifth month of pregnancy, she had been absolutely exhausted and had spent most of her afternoons napping. The afternoons had been a time of the day that she usually had free. She made spending time with her children a priority, but it had been weeks since she had last done so.

"I am sorry that I have not gotten to play with you as I used to, but I am awake now. Shall we play?"

Charles, who had inherited her bossiness, looked at her for a moment before saying, "I don't know if that is a good idea. Mary said that you need to rest so you and the baby can both be strong." He stopped for a moment and tilted his head in deep concentration. Continuing, he said, "But you've also gotten kind of fat. Francis told me the reason the Duke of Normandy's belly sticks out is because he never exercises. Maybe if you exercise you won't have such a big belly."

Catherine chuckled at her son's ill-thought out conclusion. "I am afraid that my belly won't go away no matter how much I exercise. We will have to wait until your little brother or sister is born before I can go back to my regular size."

"Why is that?" Henry Jr. piped up, curious.

"Well, babies need room to grow so my stomach has to keep getting bigger so the baby has enough space."

"Wow. The baby's gonna be really huge then…"

The humor of the situation had slowly started to wear off. Now Catherine was starting to feel a little insulted. She wasn't that big. At least not yet. It certainly wasn't her fault. Henry's babies were always big.

"Are we going to spend all day talking or are we going to go outside and play?" she asked, standing up.

"Play! Charles will be the evil wizard who has you locked up. I'll be the brave prince who saves you," Henry said as they walked out of the room.

"Argh! Evil wizard, prepare to die!" Henry yelled as he charged at his brother with his wooden sword.

Charles pretended to be mortally wounded and sank slowly to the ground. Catherine put her hand to her forehead and sighed, "Will I ever be freed from this prison?"

"Have no fear mother! It is I, the valiant Prince Henry, who will save you," Henry replied as he unlocked the imaginary door to the tower.

Catherine over dramatically clapped her hands and clasped Henry in an embrace. "My savior!" she exclaimed.

A burst of masculine laughter filled the air. Catherine turned to find a recent visitor from Vienna watching her and her sons. He bowed and introduced himself. "I am Franz Gruen, the new court musician. I did not mean to spy on you. I had just happened upon this way. I find that nature is the most inspiring muse of all, don't you?"

Nodding curtly, Catherine motioned for her sons to pick up their play things and get ready to leave. She had no real interest in talking to this man. He'd been summoned by her husband's whore, Diane. She knew without a doubt that it was not nature that truly inspired but the amount of gold coin that would be shelled out to him for his barely mediocre performances.

Suddenly, the man remembered to whom he was speaking. "I did not mean to offend you Your Highness. My apologies for being so bold," he said as he bent down low for another bow.

Grasping both of her sons' hands in her own, she walked back to the castle.

The letter from Scotland pressed into Catherine's breast as she bustled outside as fast as her burgeoning body would allow her. Once in a remote corner of the castle grounds, she took out the letter to read. Skimming it quickly, the contents did not make her happy. Mary's brother was apparently too cowardly to pursue the throne at this point. Maybe at some point in the future he'd said. She cursed as she threw the paper on the ground. Within seconds, she realized her error. A groundskeeper could easily find the letter and take it to the King. She should have taken it back to the castle and destroyed it in the fire.

Bending over, she attempted to pick the paper up, but to no avail. Her stomach was simply too large. Winded, she stood up and attempted to grasp the paper with her feet. That did not work either for a breeze blew in and swept it a few feet ahead of her. Chasing it, she attempted to pick it up again.

"Here. Let me help you," called a voice behind her. Catherine watched as Franz Gruen walked ahead of her and picked up the letter. Her skin prickled in fear that he might glance at the contents of the paper. Her fears were allayed as he handed her the paper without looking at it.

Catherine clutched it in her hand with a viselike grip. "Thank you, Sir Gruen."

The man smiled. "Anything to help. And call me Franz. May I escort you back to the castle? You look a bit fatigued. In your condition, the mere act of bending over proves to be quite a work out, does it not?"

He was right. She was exhausted. It was nice to have someone be kind and considerate during this stage of her pregnancy since her husband had decided to be the exact opposite of that. With that in mind, Catherine gladly took the arm that Franz offered to her.

King Henry stretched and stood up. The rest of the treaties could wait. He was growing weary of reading them. Strolling over to the window, he froze as he caught sight of his wife walking arm in arm with the musician that Diane had sent for.

"She's already back to her sluttish ways and she hasn't even had the babe yet," Henry murmured, shaking his head.

"What did you say, love?" Diane asked, walking to stand behind him.

"Nothing. It's just that I see Catherine has already found a new companion."

Diane shrugged. "It is no matter to us. Catherine can do as she pleases. We will just continue on as we always have."

For some reason Henry couldn't accept that. He didn't want anyone touching his wife ever again. He had beheaded Richard for having an affair with her and he would do the same thing if he ever found out that this man was sleeping with his wife.

He turned abruptly. He wouldn't let it come to that. There was no need for more innocent blood to be shed. He would instead take some preventive measures.

Catherine wiped her mouth with her napkin. Supper had been delicious. Her appetite was back in full. They said pregnant women ate for two. Well, she felt like she was eating for three. She'd even asked Nostradamus if she could be carrying twins. He'd said that the next time Henry would impregnate her with two, but this time she was only carrying one. She had laughed at the ridiculousness of his words. As far as she was concerned, this was her last pregnancy, her last child. She trusted and believed in Nostradamus's visions, but that one was a little too far out there.

Standing up, she began to head towards her chamber. Her maids followed after. All of a sudden, their low chatter came to a halt. Catherine looked over her shoulder to find her husband approaching.

"Her Highness will not be requiring your services tonight. I shall be assisting her," he told the group of women much to their and his wife's surprise.

Within seconds, the maids had dispersed leaving Catherine alone with her husband. He took her hand and led her to her chamber. Closing the door, he took off his jacket and folded it over a chair.

"What was that? What are you doing?" she asked. "You have barely spoken to me in months and now this?"

"I see that you have a new admirer, Franz Whatever the Hell His Surname Is. I'm just laying claim to what is mine. I would hate to have to murder another man because he was sleeping with my wife."

Catherine rolled her eyes. Laughter erupted from her lips. "An admirer? Yes, there are so many men begging to be with me," she replied sarcastically. "Nothing is more enticing than a fat and frumpy pregnant woman."

She was wrong, he thought. She wasn't fat. She was curvaceous and womanly. Her swollen belly was just beginning to show. He didn't know why he delighted in seeing her this way, but he did. He was tempted to stretch out his hand and touch her stomach to see if he could feel the baby kick, but the ever present worry that the child might not be his kept him from doing so. It terrified him how badly he wanted this child to be his.

"Whether that's true or not, I do not care much. What I do know is that I will not be cuckolded again. The Queen of France will be taking no other lovers as long as I have breath left in my body."

"How will you accomplish that?" Catherine spat insolently at him. "It's not as if you are with me every waking moment to prevent me from seeing other men. If I choose to take a lover, then I shall. Not you or anyone else can stop me."

"First of all, I plan on having one of my guards keep a close eye on you during the day. As for the night time, I will take over that shift," Henry smiled as he began to take off his shoes.

Catherine's face began to turn beet red. "How dare you! This is my…my private chambers and you are most certainly not welcome here."

Henry continued to further disrobe, slipping his tunic over his head. "My Queen, I share the same sentiment, but unfortunately your adulterous inclinations have left me no choice. To make sure no other men come to your bed, I must be a constant presence."

Catherine made her way to leave. "You can stay here all you like. I shall find another place to sleep."

"Not so fast," he said as his arm whipped out and grabbed her arm. "You will be staying in that bed with me whether you like it or not. I am the king and this is how it will be."

His wife's eyes look fiercely into his and battled against his own. She was always so determined to win. Maybe if she'd been a little less forceful, their marriage would have gone a little better. As it was, he'd always had to manhandle her to get her to do anything he wanted. He figured that was what he would have to do now. Scooping his wife up in his arms, he carried her to the bed and made to drop her in a heap, but then he remembered she was with child and set her down gently instead. He grabbed her night gown and thrust it towards her. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Catherine. It's up to you."

"Fine," she replied waspishly as she snatched her clothes from his hand.

Catherine woke in the early hours of the morning. Her heart beating rapidly as she realized someone was in bed with her, but it slowed considerably as she remembered the events of the evening before. What proved distressing was the way she and Henry were positioned. They lay facing each other and her deceitful hand had found its way to his bare chest. His arm was thrown over her and his hips were pressed against her stomach, uncomfortably so, for she felt the telltale bulge of his morning friend.

Henry squeezed her tightly and pulled her in closer, breathing in her scent. His eyes slowly opened and he grinned before bending his head to give her a kiss…