Chapter 228: I Shall Marry Livia
It offered a shameful relief. Honestly, he was seriously considering giving whoever it was a helping hand.
The question was whether Lionel could betray his king’s heart so completely. He had seen what losing Livia once had done to Henry. After the fall at Beaumont’s, when everyone believed she had died, the king had not merely grieved. He had broken.
Henry had stopped eating. He had abandoned council meetings, spent hours staring through windows. Even his anger had deserted him.
For weeks, Lionel had feared Henry would never be made whole again. Now the folded message seemed to burn against his chest.
Miss Valenti’s life is in danger. Lionel swallowed and shifted his hand away from the pocket inside his doublet. He could investigate. He could warn the king.
Or he could remain silent and allow someone else to solve the problem.
The thought sickened him. Before he could decide which part of himself he despised most, a gentleman usher appeared at the chamber door and bowed.
"Her Grace the Queen Mother requests admittance, Sire."
Henry closed his eyes briefly. "Leave us."
Lionel bowed and withdrew, carrying Jane’s warning with him. As he crossed the threshold, he glanced back once at his king.
Henry stood near the hearth. Lionel wondered whether loyalty meant protecting Henry or protecting the Crown. He had never hated a question more.
Stephen remained long enough to fasten Henry into a plain dark doublet over his linen shirt. He smoothed the collar, tugged one sleeve into place, and inspected the king. Stephen bowed, and left.
Theodora entered moments later. She still wore the gown prepared for the wedding, rich velvet and cloth of silver. Her face was equally composed. Only the whiteness around her mouth betrayed the storm raging beneath it.
Henry braced himself accordingly in silence. She stopped several paces from Henry and inclined her head.
"Your Majesty," Theodora said.
"Mother..." Henry straightened his doublet and turned to his mother.
"I understand that you feel nothing for the princess," Theodora began. "What I do not understand is what you intend to do now."
Henry regarded her across the chamber. "Mother, I believe you already know my intentions. You came only to hear me confess them."
"Believe me, Henry, I do not."
"I shall marry Livia," he said. "When she consents."
Theodora’s control deserted her entirely. "You have lost your damned mind." she crossed the room. "You humiliated a princess before the altar, shattered months of negotiation, and made England a laughingstock. Now you propose to place a woman from Beaumont’s beside you on the throne?"
"I propose to marry the woman I love."
"You propose to make a whore queen."
"Better a woman falsely called a whore than a murderess called queen, do you not think, Mother?"
"How long will you hold that over my head?" she demanded. "How long, Henry?"
"As long as the dead remain dead."
"You benefited from it!" Theodora pressed forward. "Do not stand there wearing righteousness. You accepted the throne. You kept the power their deaths placed in your hands. I did what was necessary."
Henry’s face hardened, but he did not deny it. "At least I know what I have done...And I shall spend whatever remains of my life trying to atone for my sins. I bet you sleep well at night, considering the number of bodies in your wake."
"Over my dead body will she become queen."
"So be it, Mother," Henry said. "When Livia is ready, she will become my queen. Whether that happens over your dead body is entirely your choice."
"This is witchcraft. Nothing else explains it. That girl has enchanted you. I shall bring the matter before the bishops. I shall have her examined for sorcery, treason—whatever charge is required. Let the courts hear how she bewitched the King of England." Her threat sounded formidable.
"If that is your intention," he replied, "I hope you possess proof."
"Is this madness not proof enough?" she demanded. "You abandoned a royal marriage." Her hands curled at her sides. "You humiliated the Crown for a woman without virtue."
"Only a short while ago," he said, "you despised Madeleine. You called her unfit to sit beside me. Yet today you speak as though France sent us the Blessed Virgin. What changed?" Henry continued. "What did Madeleine offer you to purchase such sudden devotion? And what did she mean at the altar?"
Henry stepped closer. "She looked directly at you and asked whether you were happy now. Why?"
"You are imagining conspiracies because you cannot defend your own disgrace."
"I am asking a simple question."
"I succeeded in teaching her what duty required," she said at last. "I broke her pride. I made her understand that a queen should not indulge herself. I prepared her to become your wife. What am I supposed to do with a whore?" she demanded. "A whore who has been with all the men in London?"
"Not that it concerns you, Mother," Henry said. "And we shall return to your choice of language in a moment. I was Livia’s first lover. I was the first man to share her bed, the first to know her body. And I am not ashamed of it. So the next time I hear you call her a whore," he continued, "or hear that insult repeated by any fool seeking your approval, they had better be prepared to answer for it before me."
His voice dropped. "And I do not mean with an apology."
"This cannot happen," Theodora whispered. "It will not happen."
Henry smiled. "I should very much like to see you prevent it." He moved past her. "Now, if you will excuse me, I intend to see my future queen."
"You presume she will accept you."
He glanced over his shoulder. "For once, Mother, you have identified the difficulty correctly."
Then he left her. In the outer chamber, Lionel waited near the doors. He held a narrow scrap of paper between his fingers, rolling and unrolling it with such nervous concentration that Henry briefly wondered whether the fate of England had been written upon it.
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