In the Shadow of the Crown by Jean Plaidy Page B

gratified. I had been foolish, I told myself, to have had qualms about the little bastard Fitzroy. How could I have thought that the King would contemplate putting him above me just because he was a boy? The people loved me. They had shown that. “God bless the little Princess,” they had shouted. They could not call Henry Fitzroy a prince. He was, after all, only Bessie Blount's son and I was the daughter of a princess of Spain.
    The castle was a fine example of Norman architecture, having been built very soon after the Norman Conquest by a certain Roger de Montgomery. In a way there were sad memories within its walls for there, after the death of his father, little Edward V had lived for a while. It was in this very castle that he had been proclaimed King, and three months later he had been in the Tower with his young brother the Duke of York where, it was said, he had been murdered by his uncle, Richard III. I could not help thinking of that little boy who had lived here with a terrible fate hanging over him. It was a reminder of what harm could come to princes from those who coveted the throne.
    My mother's first husband had lived here with her for five months before he died in this very castle. I imagined her living here…a young girl…in a new land. How sad for her when, so young, she found herself a widow.
    She had spoken of those days with sadness. It was as though she looked shudderingly over her shoulder at the past. She had been alone and poor for so long before my father, like a gallant knight, had rescued her and made her his bride.
    And now here was I, wondering now and then why I had been elevated and given a larger household. I did not know then that it was less grand than that which had been bestowed on Henry Fitzroy.
    Life was different here. It was my first taste of queenship, for I was a little queen here. I was made to feel important. I had certain duties, and they were those of a ruler. I realized I was
learning
how to rule. People brought petitions to me and I presided over a Council. The Countess was invariably at my side. She taught me how to speak to the Council, how to deal with the people who came asking favors. There was less time spent at my desk. These were different lessons.
    My household consisted of an impressive number of officials. I had my Lord Steward, the Chamberlain, Treasurer and Controller and many more, including fourteen ladies, all of high birth and in the charge of the Countesswho ruled over us all and to whom I could always turn in moments of uncertainty.
    I was forgetting my disappointment over the Emperor, although I could not entirely believe that he would not marry me. All the same, I was enjoying my new status. This was a miniature Court and I was learning to become a queen. I realized that I should enjoy that very much.
    How different life had become from those long days of study under the guidance of Johannes Ludovicus Vives. The only thing lacking was the company of my mother. I thought of her often and used to say to myself: I wonder whether she sat here? Did she and Arthur walk along this path? It was long, long before I was born. It is hard when one is young to imagine a world without oneself.
    Christmas came. It was a very merry one. I was at the center of the revelry. We had our Lord of Misrule and many masques and I led the dances.
    The Countess said she was delighted that I was enjoying the fun. I had a faint impression, though, that she was keeping something from me, which brought a little uneasiness into the jollity; but in those first months at Ludlow I was a little intoxicated with my new power. I had learned that I cared passionately about my position. I had not known before how much I wanted to be a queen.
    It was March when I heard the news.
    The Countess told me.
    “You never talk of the Emperor now as you used to,” she said.
    “I think of him still,” I told her.
    “But you now understand, don't you, that the betrothal was in truth a matter of