Hernan felt he had disappointed her and made to offer some changes.
‘I tease, ours are good enough. The tapestries are to our liking and we do not require cloth of gold. Our plate is of equally good workmanship, it is just not so abundant and quite rightly so. I do not seek ostentation.’
Juana had enjoyed every moment since Hernan Duque had become the Governor of the Household.
She was treated at all times with the honour that befitted her as queen. He had always ensured she had those about her to attend to her every need. Her meals were always served on sparkling silver. All her rooms were kept sweet smelling with rosemary and lavender. Her bed was made up with crisp fresh linen every day, and she was always carefully and elegantly attired. She had had the pleasure of holding frequent audiences. There were always musicians present to play for her or to accompany her whenever she wished to play. A newly arrived gold-inlayed clavichord had been a wonderful surprise. Her fingers for so long idle soon relearned their skill to transport herself and her listeners into the pleasantest of reveries. Whenever she wished Hernan would escort her to the Convent of Santa Clara where she offered prayers for the soul of her husband. Hernan had organised picnics, banquets, and tournaments, nothing of the scale of those in Flanders but just as exciting. Then there were those evenings when Catalina and Beatriz danced for them.
To add to this idyllic life she was soon to see two of her four children she had had to leave behind in Flanders twelve years ago.
‘Your highness,’ announced the Captain of the Guard, ‘I have received the news that King Charles, your son, is on his way to Tordesillas.’
Juana scowled at the kneeling figure, ‘Be it known that I stand alone as monarch. I am the queen, and my son Charles is the prince and nothing more.’
Juana may have sounded haughty, but immediately beneath the surface lay a fear, a heart-sinking suspicion that a struggle lay ahead.
Chapter 40
In the dusk of this late afternoon in December Charles entered the Grand Salon followed by his sister Leonor. ‘Your highness,’ the Bishop of Mallorca, Brother Juan, Hernan Duque and a small group of courtiers bowed low. Eyes were then lifted to discover a spindly framed youth with a face of corpse-like pallor with bulging eyes and a heavy, protruding lower lip and jaw. However, whatever he lacked in physical splendour was more than compensated for by his attire. He positively glittered in his outfit of red, yellow, white and gold, outshining the dozens of candles lit for this occasion. The high, quilted collar of his shirt was covered with precious stones. His long gown of crimson velvet was lined with cloth of gold. His white satin jerkin sparkled with gold and yet more gems.
Leonor, walking two steps behind, shone like the summer sun in her yellow brocades twinkling with jewels. She was an attractive young woman with the fairest of skins and bluest of blue eyes, and happily she had been spared the Hapsburg jaw of her brother.
‘Hernan Duque at your service. As governor of the palace, may I say we are greatly honoured to welcome our king and his sister the Princess Leonor.’
A gentleman from Charles' entourage stepped forward, ‘I am Prince Chimay, Chief Advisor to His Majesty King Charles. As yet my royal master has no understanding of your language therefore I shall translate for him.’ Chimay gave a swift icy glare at Hernan, the person responsible for Juana’s improved health; a threat to his plans.
The chill wrapped itself around Hernan. This man’s manner and tales of his cruelty towards Juana provoked immediate distaste. The bishop and Brother Juan prayed for guidance in quieting their wrath against a man who, before Cisneros was even cold in his tomb, was seeking to have his young nephew made Archbishop of Toledo.
‘Je veux visiter la reine. Tout de suite .’ Charles had no time for tiresome introductions, he was impatient to have his interview with his mother over and done with so that he could assert to all, and in good conscience, that he had kept God's commandment and had satisfied the common people's wishes in honouring her.
‘His majesty desires to see his mother.’ Hernan bowed, ‘Yes, I understood. I speak several languages having spent some time in various foreign courts. French is not unknown to me.’ What he did not say was that he had found it excruciatingly difficult to understand a word that Charles had said. His speech was dreadful: his tongue was too big for his mouth; words were left incomplete because his lower jaw jutted so far forward it prevented his mouth from closing.
Drawing himself up to his full height he addressed the king, determined not to speak through Chimay. ‘Whenever it pleases your highness to visit the queen I shall be honoured to escort you.’
‘One moment, Hernan Duque,’ Chimay raised a finger of admonishment. ‘King Charles has the title of majesty and we would be pleased for you to remember that.’ He turned to Charles, ‘Your majesty, a word in private.’ He walked him some little distance away, ‘I think it best that I see your mother first. I will plan your entrance as a surprise. We can talk about Brussels, you and your sisters when you were very young, your grandfather and aunt caring for you. Then I will announce your arrival; et voila!’
‘C'est nécessaire?’ ‘Je crois avoir raison . By the time I have finished she will be confused to see two adults instead of two children. And I also expect her to be overcome by your splendour. It will undo some of that governor’s splendid work we have heard so much of.’
‘Eh bien, excellent, Chimay.’
Hernan Duque would have liked to know what Chimay was up to, but could hear nothing, ‘If you would care to follow me.’
He led them down the corridor at the end of which was a door covered with a wall hanging. The guards stood to attention and servants drew back the heavy cloth.
Chimay motioned for Charles and Leonor to wait in the small anteroom. ‘If you wait here with the door open you shall hear all.’
Hernan could not make sense of this. Why were Charles and his sister not going directly into the room to see their mother? A ploy by Chimay; but why, to what purpose?
Juana was sitting, as usual, with two or three ladies for company and with only the softest lighting from a few candles.
Hernan bowed, ‘With permission, your highness, you have a visitor.’
‘At this late hour?’
‘Prince Chimay. Do you remember him? He wishes to present himself.’
She rebuked him with her eyes telling him she could never forget Chimay. ‘I should be pleased to receive him.’
Juana felt so confident. Times had changed. She was queen. Not only was she queen but she was queen with many loyal supporters. She was in her own country and not in Flanders.
‘Your royal highness.’
Here was the man on his knees before her (and about time she thought).
‘Ah, Prince Chimay.’
‘I hope I find you in good health.’
‘Your wish is granted, I am in excellent health.’
‘I bring you greetings from your sister Margaret of Savoy.’
‘Poor Margaret. Life has not been too kind to her. Still, she has had all my darling babies to care for as though they were her own: Leonor, Charles, Isabel and Maria. I was not allowed to bring them with me.’
‘The Emperor also sends his greetings.’
‘Good. You will be able to send both of them mine. And at the same time you must let them know all about me. I am sure you would find that a most pleasing task. Writing letters, spreading gossip, is almost a national pastime in Flanders as I recall.’
Chimay was greatly surprised; surprised and disappointed for this was not what he had hoped for. This Juana was far different from the one he had expected. Her memory was good, her French perfect. She had that same old hint of sarcasm in her voice, she was arch and most decidedly not unnerved by his presence. It was that damnable Hernan Duque!
‘My other happy duty is to tell you all about two of your children, Charles and Leonor. The way the Spanish have received your wonderful children could not have been bettered. Wherever they have gone the c
rowds have been jubilant.’
She smiled and nodded, ‘I am sure you are right.’
‘The Emperor Maximilian, of course, has ordered and monitored their excellent upbringing and education. I cannot praise your children too highly. They cannot be faulted; their tutors find them to be excellent students. You will never come across their betters. They are so virtuous and prudent, they have such good manners …’ He was floundering. It was the way she just sat there smiling; it exasperated him. ‘What they desire most is to see you and do you reverence. And if you would be so gracious as to command me to go find them I will do so with great pleasure. I am sure that you would be happy to see them.’
‘Chimay, I would be delighted to see my children.’
As he left the room she beckoned to Hernan, ‘What is this all about? Where does he have to go to find my children? Are they in Valladolid, or here in the palace, and why do they not come directly to me? Are they too young to present themselves? I am confused.’
‘They arrived, unexpectedly, a short while ago; and they are quite old enough to present themselves.’
‘Then why all that nonsense from that odious creature? I did not need to listen to all that when I am about to see them. And when I do see them I can judge for myself as to their being prudent and virtuous and all the rest.’
Chimay re-entered with some five or six others and started to make the introductions but Juana dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
A young gentleman and lady emerged from the group and made their way towards her making three deep reverences every two or three steps. The gentleman approached her to kiss her hand, but instead she rose and took him in her arms and hugged him. She then welcomed the young woman with open arms, drew her in and kissed her. Stepping back she took a long look at them, from head to toe, up and down, taking in the elegance of their clothes, the gold, the jewels. She scrutinised their faces desperately trying to match them to the faces of a seven and a five-year-old of so long ago.
‘And are you really my children?’ Was it possible?
‘I am Charles and this is Leonor,’ Charles struggled his way through the introduction. A memory of her dear brother flickered across Juana's mind, for his speech problems had been the same.
‘Charles and Leonor. How lovely for me just to hear you speak your names. But you were so tiny when I last saw you, little children playing with their toys, and here you are a young man and a young woman. This is quite amazing. How old are you now?’
‘I am seventeen and Leonor is nineteen. I must say your French is astonishing. I did not expect you to have remembered.’
‘Oh my son I never forget a thing and I have had many more things to remember than the French language. But here you are. It is incredible. I hope your journey was better than any of mine. There always seemed to be storms and shipwrecks. Twice I had to seek shelter in England; precious cargoes got washed overboard and so many drownings; all quite dreadful.’
Leonor replied, drawing an angry scowl from Charles as she had not sought his permission to speak, ‘There was nothing quite as bad as that, but we did have some excitement. We were blown off-course and arrived at a small fishing village instead of the port of Laredo. The whole militia turned out to challenge us. Imagine it! They thought we had come to invade! And then there was such a dreadful delay because our clothing had been taken to another port!’
‘That surely was adventure enough. But nothing was lost? That is good. Oh, but that reminds me of …’ All this childish chatter of tales of adventure, it was Flanders all over again, more unwelcome memories. ‘Enough of all that for the moment, I am sure you will wish to retire after such a long journey. I have personally overseen the arrangements for your rooms. You will find they have been prepared to perfection. But let me look at you again. Hernan, here are my children, quite grown up.’
‘We expect to be here for a few days, Maman.’ Charles was tired of the fuss.
‘Of course; and you will want to rest now. I suppose I must let you go. Forgive your mother's foolishness.’
‘But not quite yet, Maman,’ Leonor had spoken out of turn again, her eyes pleading with her brother for a few more moments. ‘May we not see our little sister Catalina?’
‘Why yes, of course,’ Juana replied not waiting for Charles' opinion, ‘and some time you must also arrange to see your brother Ferdinand.’
Charles answered coldly, ‘We have seen Ferdinand. We said farewell to him before he left for Brussels.’
‘Ferdinand has gone to Brussels?’
‘Yes, it is best for him. I am here now to help you. He will be far better occupied in Brussels.’
‘Gone, and never came to say goodbye?’ Ferdinand must have been snatched away from her once more but this time to be sent to a hostile country, amongst her enemies. Juana feared for his safety. She needed to know more. ‘Tell me who …’
‘It was important he leave immediately,’ Charles answered sharply.
Catalina appeared before the glittering party.
Leonor could not believe that first her mother and now her little sister too should be dressed in such plain, ordinary looking clothes. They looked no better than peasants.
Catalina stood dumbfounded at the splendour before her. She had never seen so many jewels in all her life and certainly never thought to see so many on just two people. The colours of their clothes were astonishing.
Leonor thought her the prettiest and perhaps the saddest little child she had ever met. ‘Catalina, I am your sister Leonor and this, my dear, is our brother, King Charles.’
‘Prince,’ bristled Juana.
Catalina’s attire, the plainest of grey, made Leonor suspicious and she had to know if she spent her days as a princess should. ‘Tell me my dear what did you do today?’
‘My lady,’ Catalina curtsied to this beautiful stranger, ‘I had my lessons. For a little while I played with Beatriz, my companion. Later I watched the children playing in the street below. They play such pretty ring games and I so love to hear them sing.’
‘And these street children, do they come often?’ She forced a smile, inwardly shuddering.
‘Oh yes, because I throw money down to them. That makes them return.’
Catalina was not a princess after all, she was a tiny caged bird, and Leonor was not prepared to allow this to continue. Something must be done; she would start thinking about it immediately.
‘It is late and I am weary. We must talk more tomorrow dear sister.’
‘Then you must retire,’ Juana decided, still reluctant to let them go, ‘there will be plenty of time for chatter when you are all rested. Goodnight dear children.’
She watched them as they left, two elegant adults and her sweet innocent one. It was almost too ridiculous to believe they were all hers.
Chimay eased his way back to her, ‘Did I not say what perfect children God has granted you? And Charles is such a wise and intelligent king.’
‘Prince, not king.’
‘I am sure you feel most fortunate that your son has arrived.’
She did not know what he meant by fortunate. It was only right that Charles should be here, for this was his inheritance and it would take some time to learn all about the lands, their peoples and more importantly their language. It annoyed her to think that it had taken some people a long time to realise where Charles should be and that had he been here much sooner he could have protected her from many wrongs. Those wrongs however had been set to rights without him. She had enjoyed almost two years of blissful freedom without his aid.
‘No, fortunate would not be my chosen word for the arrival of my son.’ She looked at Chimay, ‘Sir, I am fortunate in that all my babies have been healthy and that after so many years I finally see two who are now healthy adults. They and I are fortunate too that their hazardous sea journey has been completed safely, although it is my belief that royals never drown.’
‘Then perhaps I should say you must feel relieved that your son has arrived?’ Th
is woman was irritating.
‘I am relieved inasmuch as I said before that he has arrived safely, although it has taken many years for him to come to my side. Why do you not speak plain instead of in these silly riddles?’
‘I am saying that it must be comforting to know that he is in Spain at last. Since God has granted you so many kingdoms, to be the sole monarch must be a most arduous task. Now that your son is here you need no longer tire yourself with their government. He is here to assist you. You should rest after so many difficult times; the knowledge of which, by the way, has been a heavy weight on your son's heart. Let your son take the burdens on his shoulders, he has wisdom enough and more importantly, as well you know, Castile has many wise and excellent counsellors. You would be left to enjoy the pleasures of a private life.’
Warning bells sounded. Her father had offered her this, and yet everything changed so quickly. It hadn’t taken long before she was not regarded as queen in retirement. In fact she became a prisoner, or something worse, to be subdued and forced into submitting to others far below her rank. She had had to suffer the cruelties of torture. Might this not happen again?
But that would be absurd, she reasoned. Why would her son wish to treat her in such a way? Times had changed. Those days could never be repeated. Charles would honour her as a good son must. It was his duty before God.
Chimay waited, wondering how she could hesitate after his eloquent speech. He had other problems to deal with and wanted this one out of the way. The Cortes would be a rather more difficult matter. They had agreed that Charles should have the title of king but with restrictions, not least of which was that Juana was still named as sovereign with Charles's name always appearing second. As chief advisor he saw it as his responsibility to have his master’s name appear first on all documents. He was, after all, the king.
‘I shall discuss this with my son. What you say does indeed sound acceptable. Charles will be my strength. I feel I should put my trust in my son in the full confidence that he will dedicate himself to the honest service of my country.’ Juana looked at Hernan to see if he agreed.
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