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1429
Seven years had passed since King Henry's death. Thomas was now nineteen years old. Though unmarried, it was clear that he was quite the eligible match at court and many women were vying for his attention. Some succeeded, but it almost always lasted just a single night, two at most.
Even at his young age, he was also becoming quite the respectable young man, despite his womanizing ways. He had fought in France already, keeping the peace and England's hold on their sister land. He was already growing a reputation on the battlefield and he was becoming known for his cleverness and wit.
A priest of London by the name of Father Gregory was making his way toward the door to the Duke of Bedford's chambers. Just as he was about to open the door, the door was already opened by an unknown woman.
She froze in place when the priest appeared in front of her and was quick to adjust her dress, which wasn't properly placed on. She bowed her head to him, just before scurrying off.
The priest sighed and shook his head in disapproving before entering the young man's room. "My lord?" He called out, finding the Fitzroy man to be nowhere in sight, "My Lord Bedford, it is I, Father Gregory. I've come to take your morning confession as I always do or would you like for me to come later?"
"Forgive me, Father. For I am a sinner. You mustn't look at me," Thomas spoke up, revealing himself to be standing behind a folding screen that divided the large chambers.
"We are all sinners, my lord," Father Gregory replied, clasping his hands together, "It is nothing to feel shame about. You are a young man with thirsts for pleasure that need quenching."
"I am the son of King Henry V. I am nineteen years old. I should be married by now. I should be furthering my line with heirs, sons and daughters alike. I should not be spending my days whoring about this castle," Thomas explained in a disappointed tone.
"You simply have not found your true destiny yet. That is all. In due time, God shall give a sign and you will know what is it He has planned for you," Father Gregory assured the young man in a calm tone, "If your brother were to die, it would be to you the people would turn, for he has no heirs."
"Well, then, I pray to God he does not die," Thomas suddenly spoke up, emerging from standing behind the room divider, "For no sane man would ever wish to become king if they knew the burdens that came with it. My father taught me that. And as I see my brother grow and be burdened with being the King of England, I fear that he was right," He explained, an uneasy smile forming on his lips, "In any case, what kind of King would I be? Not a good one, I'd say."
"You were given tremendous power at such a young age, yet it did not corrupt you as it has done with so many who came before you, my lord Bedford. You would be God's King and you would resist the corruptions of power that come with being king. You'd be a King for the people, not just the nobles, and all of England would love you for it," Father Gregory explained in a calm tone, "You met the Holy Father just last year on your pilgrimage to Rome."
