Like Fire and Powder (Violent Delights Book 17)

Chapter 9: the engagement according to House York and House Tudor

Henry Tudor

It's late in the evening and my eyes are growing heavy. I was crowned a few days ago, now I'm summoning parliament. I have ten thousand and one things that need doing but I'm so tired I'm ready to put my head down on my desk and sleep.
I'm applying for the dispensation to marry Elizabeth. That took some force of will but I'm doing it. I also need to tell her that and that I'm having her declared legitimate. Except I really don't want to talk to her. So I'm going to have one of my agents do it. My agents are historically unhelpful in such matters so I'm employing both of them so that it gets done.
"Henry, shouldn't you tell her? I'm sure she'd be pleased," my mother says, nervously, holding a cup of wine as she sits on the other side of my desk being unhelpful.
"I'm terribly busy and you're a woman it's nice the two of you talk," and related excuses. I don't look up.
"I mean yes I'll go talk with her but it's your wedding, it might be good the two of you chat about it," she says.
"You're not telling my uncle to go talk with Catherine Woodville about their wedding," I mutter.
"Of course not that would be cruel. Also it's just on paper we're not doing anything she's just coming up to sign it. And I say with love I don't encourage other people to talk to him," she says.
"Hm then you'll want to go chat with Elizabeth then or I'm sending him," I say.
"Oh god, Henry don't. Please," she sighs, "He's unsettling. Anne Neville apparently met him once and she talked about the experience for years. So did lots of people who only met him once. Elizabeth has already met him. You're done, if you want her to allow him anywhere near your children."
"Then you'd best go give her that information hadn't you?" I ask.
My mother sighs.
"Look it's for the girls' own good. She doesn't like me," I say.
My mother sighs again, "She'll like you once she gets to know you."
I look up at her.
"Henry, you're very nice."
"You're required to like me or something of that kind," I mutter, "I'm sorry I'm being sullen. Really I think it would be best if you did it but if you don't I've nothing against sending my uncle he's no idea how upsetting he is he'll automatically agree."
She glares at me a little as she decides it's true, but she's also not wanting to concede.
At that moment my uncle enters, dripping wet, like he's been standing outside in the rainstorm since I saw him at supper.
"You needed me?" He asks, nearly hoarse likely from the rain, clearly expecting the answer to be that I've nearly been murdered.
"Yes, but also not really," I say, "Depends on what my mother decides."
"Where have you been?" My mother asks, now completely preoccupied with his appearance.
"Standing on the roof in the rain, getting drunk," he says.
"Forget it then," my mother says, "You can't do it if you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk now," he says, wiping water off of his face.
"How—can that be if until you were summoned you were drinking on the roof?" She asks.
"Mother, I have this theory. I don't think he's ever actually been drunk because the wine is afraid of him. Instead he thinks he's drunk so he actually experiences emotions he's been ignoring then when he's done having feelings he decides he's not drunk anymore and he's no idea that's not how it works," I say.
"I wasn't going to agree with you after you said the words 'I have this theory' and I'm not actually agreeing now. But you could be right," my mother says.
"So—you don't need me then?" My uncle asks, not even concerned we're having the conversation.
"No. We do. Mother?" I ask.
"No I'm going to place faith in your uncle he'll refuse. Henry, tell your uncle what you'll have him do?" My mother asks.
"Go take a message to Elizabeth for me," I say.
"Why am I meant to be refusing this?" My uncle asks, looking at her.
"Generally because I said to, but also he can speak to his wife," she says.
"No, don't conspire," I say, snapping my fingers.
"Shh, I'm talking to your mother—no why?" my uncle asks, wiping more water off of his face. "I can do that I'm not busy I did just describe my routine he looks busy."
"Because he can talk to his wife we talked about this. We also talked about how everyone is scared of you," she says.
"Well you're not scared of me. So that's not everyone. Also I present fine to women and the younger generation," my uncle says.
"Good, so you'll take the message," I say.
"Why aren't you telling her this yourself?" My uncle asks.
"Because I don't want to. So I don't have to," I say, primly. I'm not about to confess my behavior to either of them.
"Henry, just talk to your wife," my mother says, "She'll be pleased you're getting that done."
"No she won't," I mutter, "She's not pleased with me as a rule especially not specifically about anything I do or say."
"Well that's very defeatist you're very charming I trained you well. I have complete confidence in you," my uncle says, picking at almonds in his palm.
"Why are you constantly eating those?" My mother sighs.
"See? I wasn't even going to ask that," I say.
"Because my cousin told me almonds contain a sort of poison. So his theory was that if one ate enough of them, one would build up an immunity to that poison. So he was doing it but regretfully he had not been poisoned yet to test the theory out. So we agreed that I was very likely to be poisoned given my lifestyle so I agreed to do the experiment as well. Except I haven't had access to the things till now," my uncle says, very calmly like this makes sense.
"His cousin—," my mother pauses.
"The king of France, yes," I sigh. We went to France and begged mercy and aid of the king of France, who happens to be my uncle's first cousin. Well after about maybe ten minutes of formality they got to talking, and I went off to go skulk and establish some spies, and I left them unattended and apparently they talked all night long because they are really identical  as it happens. And in that time of association and their time together they both became worse people. It wasn't great, I think at least two people died as a result it could be more. It's been years. King Louis is dead now his son is on the throne, and I'm still finding out things they talked about, and learned, now apparently they were sitting there all night poisoning themselves or something. I used to joke that I couldn't leave my uncle anywhere without him showing up with three new squires (children he adopted) a new spying contact (extorted) and at least one death (someone he just finished a fight with). But now it's not a joke anymore once I leave him with the king of France look what happens.
"I always genuinely forget the king of france is your cousin," my mother says, frowning a bit, "You both look Welsh to me."
"No they looked and acted completely the same, they both had dark hair similar thing with the dark eyes like, they looked more related than he and I and worse they were the same person we don't talk about it," I say, "Also I have people testing all of our food now you don't have to do that."
"It's just for entertainment, as I said I told him I'd do it when I got the chance and we agreed I'd likely be poisoned so it'd be a nice experiment," my uncle says, calmly, almost cheerfully.
I put my hand over his face, "I said not to ask him."
"Oh we were off topic as it was," my mother says, amused, "Do we want to stop him?"
"No. We're forgetting it happened I didn't want that knowledge I don't care this is why I really can't take him anywhere, however, alternately if I do take him somewhere or leave him alone with someone he automatically bonds to them so that's nice, incidentally, uncle can you take a message to my betrothed?" I ask, nicely.
"Ah—I think your mother doesn't want me to," he says, offering her some of the almonds. "Also, why not have a cup of wine with her and tell her yourself?"
"Have you spoken with your future wife?" I ask.
"No. I'm going to tomorrow she just got in," my uncle says, shrugging, "She's twenty or something she's a baby she's probably tired."
"She's my age," I say.
"Hmm."
"These are bitter," my mother winces, apparently she accepted an almond.
"Yes. That is the point," my uncle says.
"How are you just eating those?"
"You get used to them it is an experiment and it's been rather nice since I usually skip meals I get a lot done when everyone is at supper," my uncle says.
"Stop going through people's rooms," I breath.
"Yes, it's wrong," my mother says.
"I pay people to do that," I say at the exact same time.
"Just checking their work, Harry," my uncle shrugs.
"You don't have to we—," we finally get to be normal. The idea is we stop living like street rats and we be something approximating normal.
"It's done. Don't worry about it. Seriously it's all in hand," my uncle says, "You've got enough going on there with—,"
"Organizing taxation?" I ask.
"That," he nods.
"It is late Henry," my mother says, carefully, "Why don't you get some rest and talk with Elizabeth in the morning."
"The entire point of this entire exercise is that I don't talk to her! One of you does it!" I cry.
"I will if you want," my mother says.
"No you won't—look at me, you are going to have to speak with her eventually. You can do this with other people about in public to minimize embarrassment but it would be best to ease into it," my uncle says,  seriously, "It isn't fair to her that you don't say two words to her for weeks at a time then expect her to show up at a feast on your arm, let alone marry you. I think you know that."
I glare at him because I do know that. He doesn't know what I did though. And I'm not about to admit it.
"Fine. I'll speak with her. You both want me to speak with her? Fine," I snarl, "Only if you speak with your wife tomorrow."
"Right, have a good night," my uncle says, perfectly fine with vexing me. This man has taught me to wield a sword, ride a horse, fire a bow, and a dozen other things I wasn't suited to. He's perfectly well frustrating me to get me to learn my lesson but I can still be annoyed.
"Goodnight," my mother says, standing.
"Goodnight," I say, unable to look in her eyes, that stolen kiss still burning on my lips.