Dream collides with reality, Phillip of Bavaria and Mary Tudor

[Phillip of Bavaria]

After his tiresome arrival, his meeting with his aunt and finally after that strange encounter on the corridors the night wasn't more pleasant for Phillip either. Although he was tired he couldn't sleep. The images of the past visited him and no matter how much he wanted they didn't left his side. He laid stilled starred at the ceiling and slowly every little detail of those days returned to him. How he entered the palace for the first time, the first time he saw Mary, the way she looked at him surprised when they met, how her clever eyes were sparkling in the light. Then that wonderful night, when he did almost nothing else just danced with her. Well, just almost nothing else. And then arrived the memories of the cold next morning, the surprising message from Cromwell, that His Majesty wants to see him. Oh how excited he was then... He really believed that they start to negotiate over the details of the wedding.... But then as he faced the King, Phillip saw nothing more in his eyes than scorn. He stated that he will never allow his daughter marry a little German duke, whose connections were more than questionable and that he must leave the court immediately. Phillip wanted to oppose, but the King trailed him off and indicated some guards to step closer. Phillip knew he cannot win now, and left, but he knew he won't give up and will return. What worried him the most that he never came to know what they told Mary about his sudden departure...

Now, as Phillip was walking in the early morning sunlight on a corridor, as he wanted to get out to the garden he was completely lost in his thoughts, the world disappeared, as he suddenly remembered that after he finally fall asleep she saw Mary even in his dreams. They were together again. It was that magical night. They danced together and Phillip felt again her fragile hand in his, how their fingers folded, remembered how as they moved on the waves of music their eyes were connected. Yes, Phillip remembered the touch of Mary's wet face as he brushed that teardrop away, and couldn't forget the sweet, innocent, curious kisses they shared. And Phillip felt the same longing now to at least see her again as he suddenly woke up last night.

And there was awakening this time as well. Phillip felt a sudden push, heard a little scream which dragged him back to reality. He looked down and couldn't believe his eyes. Because there were the eyes he dreamt of so often. They looked at him surprised, angrily, scared. She was there staring at him speechlessly and Phillip assumed she tries to find out now what twisted play of fate let her run into this careless stranger, who wasn't looking out in front of his feet, and who suddenly seemed so familiar.

And Phillip was stoned, his heart throbbing, and could just whisper:

Mary...

[Mary Tudor]

Mary was gradually growing tired of court. The celebration for her birthday, if it could really be called that, had ended, and all of the court seemed to be quieter. Mary longed once again for the freedom of Hunsdon or even of Beaulieu. She did not care where she went really. She just wanted to get far away from court, as far away as humanly possible. She wanted to be free of her father and his silly games. Henry VIII was a cruel and evil man! How could he find pleasure in hurting her when he could have taken those chances and made her happy? She tried to please him, she really did, she did everything in her power to make him happy, yet still she fell short of his expectations. Mary knew that Henry was never really happy with her. Why would he be? Mary was just a mistake, a child that he had never wanted. Yes, for a time that seemed so distant to her now, she had been the greatest pearl in the Kingdom. Alas, that was all behind her now. As the years had passed, and no brother had followed her, the mother she loved so dearly had fallen out of the King’s favour, and both her and her mother had been cast off for shiny new toys. It puzzled Mary sometimes...perhaps she could understand (though never accept) her father not loving her mother, but what had she done that was so wrong? What made him stop loving her?

Mary knew that whatever she did as a child to lose her father's love it must have been simply awful for she had never regained the love they had once shared. She could remember herself as a young child in her father's arms being twirled gently. He had loved her then and thought her perfect. "Aren't you beautiful? Aren't you the most beautiful girl in the world?" He had asked, kissing her or brushing hair out of her face, and she had always been shy and humble smiling softly and answering, "I don't know" As a child she had lived to hear him answer, "Yes you are." He always said it as if it was obvious and then he would ask after her health. He never did that anymore. She could not remember him asking after her health and really caring, and if he said she was beautiful, she doubted his intentions. Mary had learned to mistrust flattery. A simple compliment could be used to achieve goals. For instance, when her father used to boast to ambassadors of Mary's many talents and declare proudly, "The girl does not cry!" It had all been a ploy to make her sound like a better little wife. Oh papa, if only you could see me now. If only you could see how I cry...how you hurt me. If you saw my tears and all of the pain and sadness I have hidden away, I know you could heal it and make me whole again.

With a deep sigh, Mary tried to push all thoughts of her father, and her happy childhood out of her mind. Most of her childhood had not been happy, so those thoughts were quicker to banish. Thoughts of her father in general were another story. She found herself hating him, now more than ever. Mary had always wanted marriage; at least she had for as long as she could remember. She also wanted children. In fact, Mary wanted the most beautiful children in the entire Kingdom. They would be perfectly behaved and adorable. No other child would come even close to rivaling her own. Of course, in her mind, the many children she saw herself bearing, save for one, were all boys. Yes, if she could marry and bear many healthy sons both her husband and her father would be proud of her. If she could bear sons then she would have succeeded in her purpose as a woman and a wife. Now, all of those dreams were gone. Every happy dream that had held her together the past few years; dreams of playing in the gardens with mischievous little boys, dreams of dressing her daughter in the most expensive gowns, dreams of many a happy family get together...all of them gone, and without reason. Mary was so desperately sad that she did not know what to do.

She was no fool. Mary Tudor knew that Thomas Cromwell could not...no would not...give her the life she dreamed about. Mary did not want this marriage! She did not want to be tied down to a man who did not want her, and she would certainly not be his toy for sexual enjoyment!! No, Thomas was a good man. He would never expect or demand such things from her. Where other men would force her to bed and hold her down as she screamed and fought back with all of her might, she knew Thomas would never do that to her. He would leave the marriage unconsummated, and thus not a real marriage in God's eyes, before he would ever hurt her. If they decided to share a bed, it would be a mutual decision, and if they decided to have a family, it would be because they both wanted one. Of course, she knew Thomas already had Gregory, and she did not want to bring children into a loveless family since that is what she had now, but perhaps children could fill the void in both of their hearts. Yes, Mary could see that Thomas was hurting. It was not obvious to most people, the man in black held his emotions well and worked away his worries, or so it seemed, but Mary could see past it. Mary could tell that Thomas Cromwell had hidden the hurt behind the facade he presented every day. It was almost impossible to see past his strong exterior, but Mary could for she felt the same hurt, she knew the same pain, she had the same facade, so breaking it down was an easy task.

Mary smiled then. It was a small knowing smile, and the first smile that had graced her pretty face all week. Perhaps this marriage was not such a bad thing really. She did share some similarities with her future spouse, so maybe it would all work out in the end. No, it would all work out. God had a plan for them. Whatever he was planning, Mary knew it had to be great. She had intend to go to chapel today to pray for an end to this crazy marriage, but now, when she arrived at chapel she would pray for something else. Mary would pray for the strength that she would need to get through the next months. She would pray for a happy, prosperous marriage. She would pray for Thomas, and ask God to give him strength too. Then...if she worked up the courage, she would pray to the Holy Virgin to bless her womb so that she might bear healthy sons. The last prayer would not come into effect for a long time of course, but Mary had seen her mother’s struggle over such matters and thought it best to start praying early just in case. So deep in thought planning her prayers and toying with the Rosary in her hand, she did not see the tall figure that was approaching her as oblivious as she was to their impending collision.

Mary did not really know what had happened, until after it had happened. She felt a bump, whatever she had run into was like a brick wall—though it did not feel much like a wall at all, it was certainly well built—it had hit her with enough force to knock off her tiny unsteady feet and with a small thump and a little scream she found herself sitting on the ground. The deep navy skirts that Mary was now accustomed to wearing fell in a pool about her and the rosary slipped from her fingers bouncing against the cold cobble before coming to rest a little way away from Mary. Frowning ever so slightly she put on her best glare raising it from the feet in front of her to the face, fully intending to give the person before her a good tongue-lashing. However, the moment she heard her name whispered all thoughts slipped from her mind and it became flooded with memories of the few short days she had spent with the voice's owner. Memories of being stopped in the Great Hall by an unknown stranger. Memories of dancing with him later in the week, and the feelings she got every time their hands had touched or their eyes had met. He had kissed her that night...it had been the first time any man had ever kissed her. In fact, it had been the first time she had ever let a man get that close to her, she had given him her love, her trust, her heart, and in return, he had thrown them back in her face by leaving with no goodbye.

She could still remember standing at her window watching his carriage leave. Those moments had broken her heart. She had wanted to run after him, and demand answers. Why was he leaving? Why did he have to go? What had she done to chase him away? She thought that he had loved her, but she must have been wrong. The explanation that came days later confirmed it. He did not want her. Had her kisses not been good enough? Had she really stepped on his foot? Perhaps he had already found someone else, someone better. Mary had given her heart to him so freely, but as she had watched him get in the carriage, she saw she had been a fool. He did not even look back at the Palace as he got into his carriage, and if he looked back as it pulled away she did not know for she had turned from the window in tears. Seeing him here now she felt those same tears ready to fall again, but as she reached for her Rosary she blinked them back furiously until they were gone. Mary would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry and she had already wasted far too many tears on him already.

Why was he here? Why now? Was this a part of her father's sick and twisted game? That was all she was to her father, a silly little player in his game and her heart did not matter to him. Perhaps it was fate. Even if it was fate though, fate had a funny way of reeling its ugly head. Now as her life was crumbling she was being given a second chance that she was not even sure she wanted. She did know she wanted a chance for closure. Maybe that's what this was, fate giving her a chance to find closure and to move on. Taking a moment to compose herself, she stood, dusted herself off, and re-fixed her glare before turning towards Phillip. "I am surprised, Your Grace, that you have the audacity to show your face at this court again after the way you left it," she said her voice as cold as ice and venomous.

[Phillip of Bavaria]

Phillip felt himself as a statue now. He starred down at Mary motionlessly. He saw it in slow motion almost. He heard nothing else, saw nothing else. Nothing else. He even felt, as if the air would have disappeared out of his lungs. He saw how Mary fell after they ran into each other. They ran into each other and Phillip felt, how a soft, warm body was pressed to his body for a tiny second. It was like when they had danced together. And although he saw Mary on the ground he couldn’t bent down to help her. First, because he was almost paralyzed from surprise. Second, because Mary raised immediately and when Phillip caught her eyes they were so cold that they had frozen his heart.

Oh, how different had he imagined their meeting. He had never known exactly how it will happen, but he was sure, that one day they will meet. And in his dreams they were happy. Phillip dreamt of seeing her again ever since that doomed day. Ever since that doomed minute when he looked up for a last time to Mary's window, but had not seen her. And ever since then he planed his return. Yes, deep in his heart he did. Even in those terrible weeks and moths when he was devastated, when he felt everything is lost and there is no hope, and he should forget Mary forever, hr couldn't. If he could have forgotten her then he could have moved on. Could have lived. Could have loved. But he couldn't do any of this. He just wondered from country to country, from court to court, looking for something he couldn't find. Yes, he couldn't find that. Because his peace and heart was in England all the time. Yes, it was by his true princess. By the woman whose beauty, courage, strength and wit meant everything. By the woman who changed his life in three or four days.

While his wonderings he had different phases. There was a time when he ran into drinking so to say. He went from tavern to tavern, drank goblet after goblet, but it never helped. He thought at the beginning that he will search for another women to silence his heart and body. He thought he will drawn into pleasures and maybe never come back from there. But he couldn't do it. Every women remembered him just on Mary. On how different she was, how much more graceful, powerful, beautiful she was. That no one can come near her.

Then he had a period when he was fed up with everything, even with himself. He couldn't endure light, laughter, joy, people around himself. He hated everything, because he hated himself. So he wanted to be alone. He spent months alone in a thick northern forest in a little wooden house just with his servant Marius, whom he brought yet from Germany with him. In the time of solitude he tried to became a new person. Wanted to forget Mary and he tried to persuade himself that he is not good enough for Mary anyway, that Mary deserves someone better, more powerful, healthier, wealthier. But no matter how hard he tried to forget, Mary remained with him. She was in his dreams, under his skin. He talked to her, he plead with her, and yes, he was a man, he was dreaming of loving her, making her a woman, making her a mother.

And there was something what Phillip felt that time in that house in every second and he felt it now as well. He hated himself, called himself for the biggest coward on Earth. What have he done? He left Mary, yes he did! No matter that there was the order of the King or the guards. It was he who left! Just he! He should have fight and stay! Running trough corridors, searching for her chamber, grabbing her hand and never let her go again but protect her, give her shelter. How could he leave her? He knew from his aunt what a hard life she had. That how many people left her, ignored her ... That she fled behind a mask, that she fled into religion. That she couldn't really trust anyone. And then what had he done? The same! He managed to lurk the real feeling Mary out of her seashell that night when they danced. But then he was sent away and he couldn't even talk with her for the last time, assuring her that she is the most wonderful creature on God's Earth. God know what everyone told Mary. God knows if his letters ever reached her. Most probably they had not... Maybe Mary hates her more then anything and she has every right to do so. As he had never shown any sign of his genuine and constant love after that. Maybe Mary thinks he never loved her. That he just used her. No! If there is just the tiniest chance for him to make things right again, he will fight.

"I am surprised, Your Grace, that you have the audacity to show your face at this court again after the way you left it." This sentence and her voice told everything. She wasn't his Mary. She was Mary Tudor. Who was angry now, maybe even furious. But at least it showed that she still wasn't indifferent. And although her words were like cold slap for him, Phillip knew he has to try to reach for her once more.

He managed to move finally. To took a deep bow to show his respect for her. and if she called him Your Grace he cannot act differently, but according to that.


Your Majesty, I'm really sorry if hurt you, now or earlier. It was never my intention.... You... Audacity, you say?

Phillip slowly raised from the bow, looked into Mary's eyes and started to speak again with more and more fire in his words.

Yes, it was audacity how I left. I shouldn't have cared for your father's orders, for the guards behind my back. I should have cared just for you and for your happiness! I should have stayed even if I would have been killed! I was weak! I was confused! But I was punished for that. My peace and heart remained here. But now I know this. I know this and came back. To you, for you! As I know what mistake I made some months ago when I left you and I will never do it again, but I will try to win your apology and trust again. And maybe even more. Although maybe I lost my chances...

Phillip couldn't speak further. He was overwhelmed. And although he felt the need the wish to kiss Mary here and now he didn't dare. He doesn't even deserve it anyway, and he didn't want to be disrespectful anyway. So he reached out his hand, took Mary's hand gently in his, and kissed it with all his love, all his hopes, all his devotion and passion.

[Mary Tudor]

After Mary had first met Phillip all of those months ago she had been imagining a happy future together. She had started to plan a future with him and was happy about the prospect of being Duchess of Bavaria, no not happy, ecstatic. Mary had understood of course that they could not spend every moment together and that occasionally he might have to leave her alone for a while, but every time she had thought about him leaving her she had pictured many happy reunions when he returned. None of her reunions had come to close to what this one was turning out to be, but when she had dreamed about their reunions it was before he had abandoned her and broke her heart. Everything was so different now. Mary was different. She had been so in love months ago, but now that she was not like a love sick child she could see things more clearly. She had fallen in love with him too quickly; love should not be instantaneous, it should develop over time. Still, she could not convince herself that she hadn't loved him or that she didn't still love him. For her, love had happened quickly. She had committed herself to him, and even now she wanted to forgive him. It was true that she was angry and hurt, but perhaps once she understood his reasoning for leaving she would forgive him and he would take her away from here with him.

Mary knew it was impossible. There would never be a happy future with Phillip, her father had seen to that when he had decided to marry her to Thomas Cromwell. Her happiness did not matter to her father, nothing mattered to him except his own pleasures. Mary had nothing against Thomas. None of this was his fault, at least she did not think any of this was his fault. Mary just wanted to be happy. She wanted a husband who would love her, and a castle full of children running happily about. She knew that with Thomas that future was likely impossible, but with Phillip it was a dream waiting to come true. Yes, if she could understand why he left and forgive him, Mary knew she could have a very bright future. If only her father had not gotten in their way. If only Thomas was not an obstacle to her happiness. Only a few hours ago Mary had been without any hope and felt utterly empty inside, but Phillip had awoken those old feelings and given her a reason to keep fighting.

Don't just stand there silently! she thought to herself in those long moments when they were both not saying a word. She wanted to hear his voice and to know what he had to say in defence of himself. She wanted to know why he had left. Why he had come back. If he still felt for her the way she felt for him. 'Just say you love me. Say it and I will foolishly forgive you with no more questions asked.' Mary would give anything to be loved again. What she had with Phillip had been so powerful that even now she would come back to him without caring what he had to say as long as he said something. If she could have been his, she knew she gladly would be. One look in those captivating blue eyes brought back the flood of happy feelings she had felt dancing with him, and kissing him for the first time. It was suddenly difficult to keep an angry look on her face for she wanted to smile, leap into his arms, kiss him, and declare her undying love. The only thing that kept her from doing so was the marriage she had been sold into. She could not lead Phillip on when she knew nothing could ever come of it.

Finally...finally he spoke, and with that voice came another flood of memories. She had memorized everything about their few short days together. Every scent, sound, thought, touch, sight, everything was preserved perfectly in her mind. At first she had no idea what he had just said because to her it had been his sweet voice asking if she wanted him to kiss her again, and later bidding her goodnight. If only she had known then that "goodnight" would really be goodbye she would have kept him longer, she would have kissed him again as she had earlier in the evening, she would have done anything to convince him of her true affections. She had not know though, and he had left never knowing how much she loved him, but it did not matter really. She had been told that he had likely left because he had someone better waiting for him in Bavaria, and if that was the truth then no amount of convincing would have been good enough to keep him.

Hearing that he likely had met someone else in Bavaria and now realized that person was better than her had been devastating. But for some reason she had never really been able to believe it. Perhaps the explanation she had been given, though painful, had been meant to protect her and force her to move on with her life. Of course, Mary had not moved on, she had clung to the past and wallowed in her misery. She had fled court not long after his departure. Her next months were spent at Hunsdon dreaming of him and their future and praying that he would return. It never happened though. Every night that passed without his return was met with weeping until one night she found she could weep no longer. Her heart felt hard and cold like it had years ago when Anne Boleyn was Queen and she and her mother were cast aside unwanted by her father. She had been cast away again, and she had built up the barriers that had gradually started to come down over the years. Now was no different. She still had her walls up, but for him they almost seemed to tumble down. His very voice made it hard for her to breathe or focus and it took her a long while to realize that what he had actually said to her was, "Your Majesty, I'm really sorry if I hurt you, now or earlier. It was never my intention.... You... Audacity, you say?"

She felt a momentary loss for words as her eyes met his again. Finally, she had to divert her attention away in order to focus some sort of a coherent reply. "You did not hurt me now, and even if you had, the fault was partly my own." Really, it was entirely her fault, she should have been focusing on where she was going and not on her thoughts. Once again her thoughts had gotten her into trouble, that was no surprise. "Yes, audacity." Had she not spoken clearly or did he just not understand her? "I find it very audacious that you would come back after..." She would have continued, but he had risen from his bow now and had started speaking again in a tone that was entirely unfamiliar to Mary, she had only ever heard his sweet comforting tone.

"I shouldn't have cared for your father's orders, for the guards behind my back. I should have cared just for you and for your happiness!" Wait! Her father's orders? Guards? What was he going on about? Her father had not sent Phillip away, he couldn't have, not when he saw how it had hurt her. Thomas...had he known or did he really believe the lie he had told her about Phillip having another woman? In that moment she was full of rage and she wanted to stomp off to her father's office to demand answers. Then if what Phillip said was true she would tell her father just what she thought of him, and kick his bad leg for good measure before going and tearing Cromwell to bits. Phillip loved her, he wanted to be with her and he had come back for her, but they (her father and her future husband) had planned this stupid marriage scheme and poisoned her mind against Phillip. They had taken away the one and only thing that had mattered to her in years and she did not think she could forgive them. Phillip on the other hand would easily be forgiven if what he said was true, and she would find out.

"I-I-" 'I'm dumfounded to form coherent speech!' There were to many thoughts flying about Mary's head and she could not put them into any sort of order. Then he kissed her hand and any focus she had was gone and she found herself longing for those soft and gentle lips against her's. "I don't know what you're talking about. They said you went back to Bavaria for another woman, that I was not good enough. I did not want to believe it, but I watched you leave from my window and as you got into your carriage you did not even glance back. What was I to think? You never came to me, you never wrote...and when you didn't come back I..." ...lost hope. Now that he was back though she could not be with him. Life was so cruel sometimes, but if he was willing to fight, then so was she.

[Phillip of Bavaria]

Phillip watched Mary’s face, he tried to take in every little detail of this beautiful, wonderful face. He wanted to memorize it, as there was a chance that he won’t see her ever again after this day. Her brow, where now were angry or said wrinkles, or God knew what kind of little wrinkles. But it made for Phillip clear that emotions were twirling in her, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Phillip saw her beautiful, crystal blue eyes, that were deep and mysterious like the sea. But now there was some coldness in these eyes, and Phillip had a suspicion that his disappearing could be behind it. Phillip remembered how he saw his own excitement mirrored in Mary’s eyes on that first night. He remembered that he felt that time that he wants to be lost in those eyes forever. Or how he imagined, that they will just look at each other and tell long stories just with their looks. That time Phillip thought that they complement each other so well, that no matter they would do they would be happy, even if just sitting on a bench beside each other in the garden, holding each other’s hand. Then there was the nose of Mary. It was soft and warm after they nozzled after one of their kiss. And there were Mary’s beautiful lips which were now slightly trembling. Those lips were always in Phillip’s dreams; they were in front of his eyes every time he thought of Mary. When he remembered her soft words, or when he relived their kisses. Which were careful, experimenting kisses that time, as Phillip didn’t want to rush anything, or risk his luck at all. But he wanted show Mary how much more passionate, how much deeper kisses can be. He wanted to show her things, teach her things, but on the other hand he wanted to learn from her. He wanted to discover love with her, discover life with her. And now he couldn’t know if there will be a chance ever for this. But he knew that he has to do everything in order to win her forgiveness and her heart back.

“You did not hurt me now, and even if you had, the fault was partly my own.” This sentence was very typical to Mary, Phillip thought now, as much he could get to know Mary during those short days. Four days are nothing compared to long days or even to a lifetime but there was such a strong genuine connection between the two of them that Phillip was almost sure, that he can judge Mary right. She was that kind of woman who did everything to hide her feelings. But Phillip had the strong feeling that he can tell when Mary was lying. Her nostrils were slightly trembling and so did her eyelids. Maybe he was wrong, but these signs showed Phillip that she was indeed hurt, that he broke her heart, but he knew he will do everything to mend it. And to prove Mary that not everything was her fault, and that she cannot take the responsibility for everyone and everything.

When he kissed her hand although he did it with passion and devotion, he was prepared for any kind of reaction. He almost saw Mary pulling away her white hand, he almost felt the burning sensation he would feel after an angry slap of her. He almost heard the rustling sound of her dress and the sound of her quick steps as she storms away. But to his slight surprise Mary stayed. Phillip sensed the trembling of her hand in his like a scared dove's heartbeat in someone's palm. Phillip felt overjoyed, as he took this for a sign of hope, that she didn't hate him from the bottom of her heart. But then as she started to speak Phillip starred at her and felt how shock and devastating anger was creeping inside him, and slowly reached every cell of his.

"I don't know what you're talking about. They said you went back to Bavaria for another woman, that I was not good enough. I did not want to believe it, but I watched you leave from my window and as you got into your carriage you did not even glance back. What was I to think? You never came to me, you never wrote… So that was the tale what they were telling her? That he was a cruel monster who just played with her and then threw her away? Who and how was capable of such cruel, heartless thing? Who was able to hurt Mary at the point of her what was the most sensitive of her? Mary was insecure, scared, felt never really loved, and then someone told her that she wasn't good enough?! Every single word like this was like a poisoned arrow in the middle of her heart. Phillip somehow sensed that he is gasping from rage, that angry lights were burning in his eyes, and that he clenched his fist so tightly, that his nails were deepened in the skin of his palm.

He had an idea who was behind all this. Just one single man could be so monstrous, so cruel… Henry Tudor. He never cared for anyone, just for his own desires and own power. Mary was his daughter, but he used her just as a puppet in a game. He broke his own daughter's heart, maybe just because to link his daughter more to himself. Or maybe he had other plans with Mary. He has most probably all of Phillips letter by himself. He maybe even read those letters and laughed loudly at the two of them. Phillip never hated anyone more than Henry Tudor in that very moment. He didn't care if it was high treason and a crime, he wanted to kill him, see him suffer, see him bleed. He wanted to kill him. Wanted to kill him….

Ich will ihn töten! Ich will ihn töten!

He didn't even realize that he said this out loud in his native language, and he stepped even forward, and wanted to grab him and shake him to death. His hand was in the air then something warned him, that the person who is standing in front of him was his bellowed Mary, not his bastard father. He let his hand fall down; felt how the blood was throbbing in his ear. And as he started to whisper from anger his voice was still husky and trembling.

Who said this? Who? Your father, right? Was it he? Was it?! And did he tell you that he had sent me away because in his opinion I wasn't good enough for you? And when I said no, some nice guards appeared behind my back? Yes, he did that. But I think he forgot to mention that. And I did send letter, just they got in other hands I believe! All he said was a lie! There wasn't and isn't any other woman!! I wasn't even in Bavaria since then! I was roaming in whole Europe like a ghost! And then I knew that I cannot give up, I have to come back as I love you and want you! And I even tell that your father!

He stopped, was panting, his whole body was trembling. He watched Mary’s face and tried to find out what she was thinking in that moment. Maybe she doesn't believe a single word. Or she doesn't want to believe. Maybe her heart and mind is too poisoned already. But as Phillip looked at her now, he saw her more beautiful as ever and wanted to show his love more than ever. She gently grabbed her hand and told.

Come!

He started to pull Mary after himself down the corridor. He knew that Mary is maybe scared now, but he knew that he has maybe one single chance left. As he found a darker niche he stopped and stepped in with Mary. There they were hidden, even by an armor standing there. What he did now remembered him on that night, but now everything was more intense, more burning. Mary was standing by the wall, Phillip gently put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep in her eyes.

Look at me! Look at me, and tell me if there is anyone else in my life, heart, mind but you!

Then he leaned over her then kissed her first gently, then more and more longingly, his hands were stroking her soft hair. Phillip just kissed her, discovered her lips again, as he wanted to do for months. And as he was lost in the dance of her lips, he was happy, in love and knew this was worth even if he has to pay with his life for it.

[Mary Tudor]

Emotions...Mary used to be so adept at hiding them. There was a time, long ago now, that her father and every ambassador to his court had boasted that she never cried. She even managed to hide her anger or annoyance from her father. She could put on a perfect, yet fake smile around a foreign ambassador even if he was suggesting a new suitor for her. She knew sometime it was better to be true in one's emotions and to not hide how one felt, but with Phillip...Mary felt confused about everything. Try as she might to hide them, she was sure that Phillip could see all of those suppressed emotions. He could see her confusion, her annoyance, her anger, all of it was as plain as the nose on her face for him. Yet, she had not really known Phillip for a long time. It seemed strange that a man she had known for only a little less than a week knew her better than even her father who had known her a lifetime. A small part of her hated that he could tell what she was thinking, and he could know what she was feeling without her saying or showing it. In many ways, it was a loving tendency that couples had if they truly loved each other, but what was irritating for Mary was that she and Phillip were not a couple. She was not his partner, and he was not her's yet still he knew her all too well.

Had Mary not been so lost in her thoughts and so distracted by the utter joy that went through her as Phillip's lips pressed gently against the back of her hand she might have pulled it away. No, she should have pulled it away, and slapped him for good measure! She was betrothed, and if he kept doing little things like that, kissing her hand, or giving her that smile of his she would easily give her heart back to him and forget all about Thomas. Oh, if only forgetting about Thomas Cromwell was that simple. For some reason that she did not understand, Mary could not push Cromwell out of her mind no matter how hard she tried. She did not love him. She was being forced to marry him. Despite everything though he was still on her mind, granted, ever since Phillip had kissed her hand the "Thomas" part of her mind had shrunk significantly. In fact, the more Phillip looked at her the smaller that place in her mind became.

She had forgotten how wonderful his eyes were. They were strong, gentle, and the most wonderful shade of blue and she could easily have stayed lost in them all day if she had not still been a little bit angry with him for abandoning her. Of course, since she was so focused on those eyes she was very quick to notice the anger filling the orbs that had been sparkling with joy as he kissed her hand. How had her words angered him? What right did he have to be angry about the truth anyway? It was the truth wasn't it? Mary did not want to believe that her own father had sent Phillip away. She simply could not believe it! Why would her father send away the only man she had ever truly loved? Why would he be willing to hurt her so only to cause her further pain by forcing her into a loveless marriage with a man who had failed him as of late?

Mary would never say it to Thomas' face, but it was true what most at court were saying, he had been failing the King quite a bit lately. Actually, the only reason Mary wouldn't tell Thomas she thought his recent work for the King had failed was because she was glad of the failure. Mary was immensely glad that the King was angry with his Lord Privy Seal--it gave him less time to be mad at her--and failure of the Anne of Cleves marriage was a Godsend. Then of course, there was the rising Catholic insurrection in the North that too could largely be accredited to Thomas and his constant push to destroy the Catholic Church. As happy as Mary might have been with Thomas' failures lately she was certainly not happy about having to marry him, it felt like such a punishment especially now that Phillip was back.

A quick glance up at Phillip again was enough to tell her that he was as angry about the situation as she was miserable, and he didn't even know the entire story yet. A longer look told Mary that Phillip was more than just a little mad, no, he seemed enraged as if he might kill someone at any moment. That thought was of course slightly intimidating thought since she happened to be to be the closest living thing to him. Of course, she knew that in a completely rational state, Phillip would never hurt her, but people did some crazy things when they were blinded by rage. It was almost funny how angry Phillip was getting and Mary could not help thinking that he would fit into her family perfect he was embodying the legendary Tudor Temper.

"Ich will ihn töten! Ich will ihn töten!" Phillip shouted in his native language and Mary got that cute slightly puzzled look on her face since she had absolutely no idea what he was saying. German was one of the few languages Mary had not yet acquired. She may not know German, but Mary was quite adequate at reading body language and he stepped forward ready to grab her, she took a few quick steps backwards out of his grasp. When he spoke again, his voice was still husky and trembling, just a whisper. It was a voice she was unused to and it frightened her a bit. "Who said this? Who? Your father, right? Was it he? Was it?! And did he tell you that he had sent me away because in his opinion I wasn't good enough for you?...And I did send letter, just they got in other hands I believe!..."

Mary was about to tell Phillip to stop shouting at her because his voice seemed to be increasing in both speed and volume. In fact, she almost missed some of his words, but thankfully she was a good listener and had managed to hear everything. Everything including his mention of sending a letter to her, but that thought stayed only vaguely in her mind since he followed it with a declaration of his love for her, which made her smile a little. He loved her. She believed him too. No man would travel such distances to see her again now if he did not love her, and it was not hard at all for her to believe that her father had lied to her. It certainly was no new occurrence, Henry lied to Mary all the time. Really, she had come to expect it. The only reason she had believed him was because Phillip had not glanced back or written, or so she had thought.

In her distraction Mary had not realized Phillip had closed the distance between them until she felt him grab her hand and a small gasp passed over her lips. She could have protested to being lead away if she had wanted to, but she did not. She let herself be pulled down the corridor to goodness knew where, but she would have followed Phillip anywhere. If he was to lead her out of the palace, to a waiting carriage, down to a ship bound for Bavaria she would have gladly gone. Eventually, she might have realized that it was a bad idea, but in the heat of the moment she knew she would have gone with him. Slowly, she began to watch their path and noted quickly that they were not headed out of the palace. In fact, they were headed for an area of the palace she had not been into before. The corridor he pulled her into was darker than most and she suddenly felt that familiar worry starting. They should not be here. It was too private. Phillip had been angry only moments ago, and now in the darkness she felt a tiny bit fearful.

"Phillip, please," she whispered her eyes beseeching him to release her. She would have continued to protest. She would have pulled away. But she didn't have the chance. Before Mary could even comprehend what was happening he was closer to her his hands were on her shoulders, his eyes meeting hers with a passion she had rarely seen from him, and her small frame was pressed against the wall. Mary did not know what to think of the entire situation. Part of her was still scared. Another part of her was excited.

She felt him moving even closer to her, his breath warm against her face, his scent filled her nostrils and she breathed it in deeply trying to place the scent, it was distinct, unique, Phillip. His lips hovered close to hers...closer...closer...closer, then finally they pressed against hers softly at first and then with more passion, more longing. There other kisses in the past had not been this intense. It was an entirely new sensation for Mary, but she responded her lips moving against his gently and meeting his pace. In those first moments that their lips met and hers responded to his she wasn't thinking about anything, she wasn't thinking about Thomas or being betrothed, but slowly the real world started to come back to her. It was cloudy at first because she was intoxicated by his lips, but as it became clear she was struck by the memory of something he had said.

He had written to her. He had sent her a letter, but she hadn't ever gotten it. Most of the time her mail came directly to her, but sometimes, depending on the sender or the possible topic it would go through her father's office. Surely, Phillip's letter would have been thought to be a betrothal proposal and given to her father first, but who screened her father's mail? Thomas Cromwell! Yes, Mary knew Thomas was responsible for the Royal family's mail. He used to read and reply to the letters she sent to her father--mostly because she refused to submit to her father's will so he refused to respond to her correspondence or acknowledge her existence. So, if Phillip had written to her, then Thomas had taken her letter, and he had told her that Phillip had left her for another woman. In Thomas' defence, her father had hopefully fed him the story about Phillip and the other woman to tell her. However, if Thomas did know the truth all along, and he had kept her letters on purpose, then all she could think was that he had planned all of this. He had trapped her into this marriage, but why?

That anger from earlier had returned full force, but now it was directed at another target. She wanted so badly to hunt Thomas down and shout at him until she felt better. Then if she still didn't feel better she would come through on her promise from the garden! What could she say to Phillip though? What was she to do? She still love him. She wanted to be with him, but she was betrothed to Thomas. Her mind said Thomas be damned because she was angry at him, but she knew she had a commitment to her country to do what was right. She also had a commitment to both Phillip and herself. For once, perhaps she needed to do the "wrong" thing for the right reasons. Gradually breaking the kiss Mary couldn't help smiling up at Phillip as her eyes fluttered open and for a moment all her angry thoughts were gone. "Phillip," she whispered her lips still close to his. Taking a moment she tried to force her heart to beat in proper rhythm, and to breath properly, slowly. "I must tell you something."

[Phillip of Bavaria]

There in that dark corner of this infamous palace, which saw many things, Phillip experienced something that he did expect the less. And exactly because they were where they were. Here, in the centre of the King’s power, here between these walls that faced so many lies, so many schemes, so many passionate decisions and cruel words of power, Phillip felt something that he had not felt for a long, long time. Here, where many people were born and many died, where you could rise or fall and everything could depend on a single word, on a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’, here where you could tell what will the wheel of fortune of life give you in the next second Phillip felt peace. Peace; warm, soft, embracing peace. It was somehow strange as the kiss was very exciting, made his blood boil, woke up all her nerves, and he felt more alive then ever before, deep in his heart there was peace. It was as if he would have arrived home. As if he would have found what he was looking for. As if this one moment could make his entire struggle to forget. The pain he felt because of the loss of his parents, the hostility of all his relatives faded away. He was here where he had to be, where he wanted to be. When they met for the first time some month’s ago, and looked into Mary’s eyes he felt something similar, but it was surprising, it was weaker, he couldn’t hear and sense it this clearly. But now it was there unmistakably and in a way it was scary for Phillip. If you had spent all your life struggling, fighting, lost, and it’s suddenly over, you don’t even know who you are. But Phillip didn’t mind that in that moment, he knew he will find himself again. And he could just hope that Mary feels something similar now, and she doesn’t hates him now for the last months or even for this moment.

And as this peace and also love filled Phillip the former burning, destroying anger started to fade away and Phillip’s mind started to clear out. And while he was still caressing, stroking Mary’s lips with his, he started to remember and realized that he most probably scared Mary to death with his former behavior. It was sure hard for her to see haw the anger convulsed with rage. He remembered how he stepped even closer to her not knowing what he was doing. What did she feel in that moment? Could she believe that he could ever hurt her? That he could ever cause physical pain to her? And what does she feel now that she had to face his other side, and had to realize that the kind, smiling, gentle, polite Phillip of Bavaria was just one side of the coin? Was she shocked to see his angry, uncontrolled self, was it maybe too much for her to take this, and she will never want to see him ever again? Well, in a way ot was necessary, but it was maybe too soon. As sooner or later she would have known for sure about his negative features, about his demons. But there is a hope, that because she is well aware that everyone has many sides she can forgive him? Because well, she had many sides as well. There was a kind, smiling Mary, who was inexperienced and feared, who was crying from happiness, who was more a girl than a woman; but there was also that Mary Tudor who talked with Phillip some minutes ago in her cold, strong voice, even with full of hate. Then she was more of a Queen and the child of great monarchs than anything else. In that moment she was really her father’s daughter.

Phillip then remembered what he hissed in his native language. Those meant but still terrible words. He could just pray that Mary didn’t speak German, and she has no idea what he was saying there. Because if she would know… What would she think if she would know that he would be able to kill a man, and what is worse, her own father? Knowing how religious Mary was she could most probably not forgive him. Or could she? Phillip realized that although he had some thought about the relationship between Mary and her father, he knew nothing for sure, He thought that when she was younger Mary suffered a lot because Henry Tudor neglected her and prohibited her to see her mother. He was almost sure how much Mary must have suffered and endured because of Anne Boleyn. But maybe through the years everything changed and Mary forgave her father. And maybe she even doesn’t really word Phillip was saying, because she couldn’t believe that her father can be such monster. Or through the years nothing changed and Mary still suffered because of him. Well, for a tiny minute Phillip started to feel sorry because they didn’t talked about this too much in those four days. But that time it didn’t seem important. Nothing seemed important those days.

Phillip started to realize that it was a mistake to yell in front of her, to hiss at her, to drag her away, as if he would be a madman. One thing Phillip already knew that Mary hated to be told what to do, or was forced to do something. She had her own will and own mind, and mostly she followed it. The only exception was her father maybe. As despite everything Mary was an obedient daughter. But Phillip suddenly felt that the way he had behaved was similar to the way Henry Tudor would have behave, shouting at her daughter, not asking her just acting instead of her. And now it was exactly, he Phillip who did that, he, who should care for and protect Mary instead….

And in his love and passion he just pulled her after him. Well that wasn’t really like a loving man and faithful knight should have behaved. He could just hope he didn’t cause much pain to her. In the fade of his mind he slowly remembered that she asked her to let her go, before he kissed her. What a full he was! He now pulled her even closer to himself, but didn’t stopped to kiss and caress her. But all her movements became slower, softer, gentler. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, that he wanted to cherish her not scare her. That he can and wants to be the Phillip again who he was some month ago.

But the way how Mary returned his kisses was a good sign, and Phillip was overjoyed. She didn’t move away, she didn’t protest anymore. Just kissed him, first a bit scared, but than more and more willingly. Answering with love to love, with passion to passion. She still loved him, Phillip was sure of that. And for a short moment Phillip started to dream about not being her in this corridor, but somewhere else, somewhere more intimate, where he could love her more, love her further, where he could maybe see her without these damned clothes of her, where they could do Phillip was dreaming about for months. He would kiss every inch of her body and she would whisper his name. ‘Phillip. Phillip.’

Phillip soon realized that it wasn’t her imagination where Mary said his name, but in reality. And she wasn’t kissing him anymore but smiling at him and saying’ I must tell you something’. Phillip pretended not hearing her, and kissed her again. Over and over again, Once gently, once passionately. He knew that it was wrong what he was doing, but he couldn’t help. Her lips were too tempting, too sweet to leave, and Phillip had to wait for this for so long. He wanted nothing more than kiss and love her. And on the other hand he didn’t want to hear what she wanted to say. He was afraid of it. He had no idea what she would like to say, but something told him it will mean nothing good. That it will change everything, that it will take everything away. Maybe she wants to say she doesn’t love him, doesn’t want him. No that cannot be. Them she wouldn’t kiss him like that, she wouldn’t smile at him like that. But there was something and Phillip didn’t want to hear it. No, don’t be this childish, he scolded himself. Last time you turned and ran away from problems, now you want to ignore them. No, grow up and trust God and Mary.

He left her lips, even stepped one back to be able to resist her, took deep breaths, but folded his fingers in hers. He couldn’t resist touching her and being close to her at least in this way. He leaned closer again but this time didn’t kiss her just rested his forehead against hers while he spoke.

I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I was shouting at you earlier, that maybe I scared you. That I couldn’t’ resist you. I’m listening now. I promise. But before that tell me one thing. Do you believe me?

[Mary Tudor]

Phillip seemed happy here in the dark corner of the castle. He was calmer now, but she remained worried her mind racing. Everything felt so right, so perfect. It was so wrong though. She had to think about Thomas and Phillip. She could not be selfish in this. To think only of her own desires, her own needs, it would end up hurting one of them in the end. She felt like being here with Phillip was a betrayal of Thomas, even if she did not love him, they were to be married. She also knew that staying here with Phillip would hurt him too. He had to know the truth. Mary needed Phillip to know that he had her heart, but she could never give him the rest of her. She couldn't hurt him by leading him down a path that lead to nowhere, it just wouldn't be fair. Yet she felt so terrible that she had to deny her heart what it wanted. For so long she had been denied the things she wanted, and even the things that she needed. For once, just this once, she wanted the happiness that she deserved. What she deserved was to be with Phillip. Thomas would never love her like Phillip did. Thomas did not want the same things she did. He had said so himself..."The time to become a father again was over," he had said that, or something along that line. At the time she had thought it sad, but she had thought nothing more on it. If Thomas chose to live a shielded life with no wife or children (other than Gregory) that was his choice. Now that his choice was affecting her, she was not happy.

Mary had always wanted children, for as long as she could remember she had loved them. Each of her little God children were miracles, and they did fill a small void in her heart, but they were not her's...it just didn't feel the same being with any of her God children as she knew it would to be with her own children. Phillip shared that dream for a bright and fulfilling future, she knew he did. It made her want to be with him even more, but she knew it would never happen. Mary had to convince herself to stop living in her fantasy world of happy endings and to face the reality that she would spend the rest of her life being the most unhappy lady in Christendom. No amount of stolen kisses in dark corridors with Phillip was going to changer her fate. She just needed to accept it, and to tell him the truth. If only it was so easy...she really could not bring herself to voicing those words out loud. News of her betrothal would set him free and give him a new chance. He could forget about her and find someone else, but she didn't want to set him free. She wanted to hold onto him as if he were a bird that needed to be locked in a cage for fear it might fly away at any moment. Of course, caged birds often lived shorter, less happy lives. She couldn't do that to him. She loved him too much to be selfish.

Had she given him hope with her kisses? She wondered for a moment as their lips pulled away from each other the kiss coming to an end. She felt breathless, like her lungs were completely void of air and no matter how she tried she couldn't gasp in a breath. Of course, it was all in her head. In reality she was breathing, slow, deep breaths trying to regain her composure. She had to be stronger than this. Mary couldn't continue to love him, to kiss him. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to hurt Thomas. On the other hand, she knew that either way she was going to get hurt. Oh, if only life could be easy for once, but life had never been easy or kind to her. Not lately anyway.

"I must tell you something," she had said, but he did not seem to have heard her. She was ready to repeat her earlier words again, but found her words stifled by his lips against her's. No, no, please stop listen to me. It was only a thought, she couldn't speak. She was afraid to speak. Afraid that she would extinguish the flame between them. His lips met hers too many times to count, gently, passionately. All the while, Mary felt like she was not in control of her body. It just reacted to him as her mind dwelt on how wrong this was, how it had to stop. Finally, his lips left her lips and she pressed her palms gently against his chest. "Please. Stop. We mustn't..." Her eyes filled with tears and she had to turn her head away for a moment as she tried to blink them back.

He had taken her hands, their fingers twining together and his forehead resting against her's as he started to speak stopping her attempt to tell him of the betrothal once again. "I'm used to being shouted at," she whispered in a sad tone, "And I have been scared worse before. Do not worry over it." In the past she had been threatened with head smashing and death, he had not scared her that terribly. Her feelings for him scared her more than his actions. "Yes, I believe you." There, she had said it. She believed Phillip, and in believing Phillip she was admitting to herself that her betrothed had lied to her and betrayed her once again. He had broken her heart as his letter had all those years ago, and she wasn't sure if she could ever forgive him or trust him again. I don't know how to tell you," she paused trying to force away a sob, "I don't want it to be true," another sob that she could not quiet. "I am betrothed," she said it finally, but her small sobs had turned into a full on hit of tears as she buried her head against his chest. "Oh my love," she whispered as her tears started to soak his doublet.

[Phillip of Bavaria]

Phillip was panting while he was waiting for Mary to tell what was on her mind. With every new breath he composed himself more and more. It was strange to think about how much his feelings took control of him in the last minutes. Maybe because he made all his feelings to be numb in the last months, he wanted to froze them, now they returned with double power. Or triple. He had no idea. He just knew that in the last minutes his mind and sense were defeated, he did"t really knew what he did, didn't control his actions, but followed his instincts. And they told him, that what he had done was right, was good. That it wasn't a mistake. But he also knew that he cannot be like this all the time. Not in this situation anyway. He has to act carefully, if he wants to achieve his goal. And this goal was to win Mary's heart and hand.

And Phillip had to admit that he dreamt further. On those lonely nights he saw their children. And he saw many of them. Yes, he wanted children, many of them. And he hoped that this dream of his can come true. And then he and Mary can give these children anything that the two of them never could get, or just for a very short time. As much Phillip knew before that infamous Anne Boleyn arrived in Henry's life and bed, Mary had a relatively happy life with her parents. It was the same with Phillip. Till the age of ten he had a wonderful family, but then death grabbed them away, and everything changed. But this way they both know what they missed, and so they will do everything that their own children can have a happier life.

Phillip knew, that his dreams are foolish, as he ran too forward in time, but couldn't help it. There was even the possibility that Mary doesn't want a child at all, but Phillip thought that unprobable. He knew that there was so much love in her heart, and he couldn't imagine better ways of sharing this love than giving life to little human beings that represent the love of their parents. Yes, Phillip knew it was a foolish thought, but how could he not think such things while he still felt Mary's taste on his lip, her touch on his face, her scent in his nostrils.

But he knew that here and now Mary will tell something important. He sensed on his whole being how tense she was. And as he saw that tears are gathering in her eyes, it squeezed his heart. And something told him that those tears have a more serious reason than that she was shouted at and that she was scared more than this. Although even this one sentence of his reminded him again, how hard life Mary had. He couldn't help, he take her in his arms again, this time protectively, planting a gentle kiss on her hair. From now on he will try to do everything not to see her cry again.

And then he felt huge relief as he heard "Yes, I believe you." This was the first very important step for them. It meant that Mary believed that he didn't left her out of own will, and that she knew that his heart was just hers. But somehow she was anything but happy, and Phillip's heart pondered louder and louder. What can it be that makes her so devastated? What? 'I don't know how to tell you. I don't want it to be true. " Phillip heard, and while he looked into the tortured face of his beloved he felt an urge again to take her hand and run away with her to safe place, just the two of them. But he knew they cannot run forever. So he acted as he knew he has to. He did everything to calm her down.

Mary, darling, tell me. No matter what it is, we will face it. We face it together and everything will be fine.

But then the next words turned his whole world upside down. ' I am betrothed.... I am betrothed.... I am betrothed....' These words echoed in his mind like in a nightmare. He felt dizzy and wanted to wake up. So he arrived too late? Someone else took Mary's heart? He was a fool to ran away and Mary's heart belonged to someone else? He felt pain and anger... They were burning him, and he could have crushed himself for his cowardliness earlier. He wanted to punch into the wall, crash things. But then Mary's desperate sob reached his ear. Something wasn't right. No matter to whom Mary was betrothed to, her kisses weren't lying. Nor her touches or her sob. And as if she would have read in his thoughts Phillip heard the whisper: "Oh my love." There was it. Mary called him, 'love'. And as if those tears that soaked Phillip's shirt would have flown right into his heart, he felt immense pain. The wrath disappeared, and for some second Phillip just stood there, holding her tightly, caressing her back, swinging her. But then he knew, he cannot loose her again. This time no. Unless... He leaned down, and softly brushed away her tears.

To whom are you betrothed? Do you love him? Please, answer me honestly... If you love him and want to be his wife, I cannot do anything but accept your wish and leave with a broken heart and with the knowledge, that the dearest woman on Earth chose someone else, because I was a coward. But if this just an arranged marriage, one of your father's crazy and sick plans, then I will fight for you. Even against the whole word if it's needed. I let you down once. I rather die than do it again.

[Mary Tudor]

Never in her entire life had she felt this nervous, and overwhelmed. It felt as if all of those emotions from the past few months that had built up over time were suddenly all bubbling to the surface. The more the emotions built built up, the more she felt like she might explode. God, why did her life have to be so difficult. She hadn't even begun to get over Phillip, she wasn't even sure she ever would. Now he was back. He was back, and he was asking her to love him again, to forgive him. Mary's mind was screaming at her not to do it. He had left her, and even now that he was back, well...she would never know the full story of him leaving. Mary had no choice but to believe him because she hadn't spoken to Thomas Cromwell yet and heard his version of the story. Wouldn't matter anyway she supposed that she would never trust Thomas again anyway. How could she after what he had done.

Oh how badly she had wanted to at least try and make this stupid marriage idea, but Thomas just had to go and ruin it with his lies. He had betrayed. Of all the people here at court, she knew that Thomas had known how deeply she had cared for Phillip. Cromwell had selfishly plotted to push forth his own ambitions for the crown at the cost of her happiness. She would never forgive him. Never! She hated him...she wished wished he was-- She wished he was-- Damn it!! Why couldn't she say it? Why would those words not come? Thomas Cromwell had ruined her. He had torn her and Phillip apart. Regardless, something stopped her from saying those words. She didn't know what force controlled her, but she hated not being able to say the awful things she wanted about Thomas. Not even say...God, she couldn't even think it! What was wrong with her?

No, it didn't matter, she couldn't waste any more of her thoughts on how angry she was with Thomas. Every moment that Mary dwelt bitterly over Thomas was a moment that she couldn't focus on Phillip. There may not be many moments like this left with him. Mary knew that they would never be together. No question in her mind about it. Her father, the King, would never give up this fool idea. She was going to marry Thomas Cromwell like it or not. At present, she really did not like it! Oh that man! He just made her blood boil.

Her perfect future with Phillip would never happen. It seemed wrong to torture herself anymore over it. Every time she looked back on those fantasies...it broke her heart. Mary wanted to love Phillip, but it was hardly fair to either of them. His being back here, it only hurt her. Maybe if he had stayed away, if she had continued to think he didn't love her, she could have grown to love Thomas. Now, her future marriage was doomed. Committing herself to the marriage was no problem, but it would be loveless, and childless. Her own personal lonely hell. And she would know...every second that she was with Thomas she would know how much Phillip loved her, how beautiful their children would have been. It was going to kill her. She would never be happy again. Not only would she lose the man she loves, she would lose her friend.

Even the thought of this made her want to cry more. Even assuming she ever did grow fond of Thomas, Phillip would be there in the back of her mind, but he would be gone. He would leave England, he wouldn't be her friend anymore. This was all that loony King's fault! Just the thought of her father made her want to stamp her feet on the ground like a little spoiled child. "Mary, darling, tell me. No matter what it is, we will face it. We face it together and everything will be fine." No, no, nothing would be fine ever again! She told him, but now that she had told him, everything was going to be different. She could barely gauge his reaction. Did he hate her? She wouldn't blame him if he did. She wished she was dead, all of this was just too much it was too terrible.

Burying her head against his chest she sobbed and sobbed until she was sure she had no tears left. His hands gently lifted her head from his chest, his fingers brushed away his tears and she smiled despite all of her sadness. This moment, this small moment now, it reminded her of the first night they had ever kissed and how he had taken all of her tears away. Mary loved him so much, more than any words could ever express. At least she thought she loved. Maybe after everything she had been through she didn't know what love was. "I am betrothed to Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, and my father's Lord Privy Seal." There, that had not been so hard, but Phillip had asked her so many questions, she wasn't sure she could answer everything to his liking.

She was going to try, slowly, one question at a time. "Do you love him? Do you love him? That question resounded in her head and she wasn't exactly sure of her answer. Did she love him? After all he had done to her she wanted to say no, but earlier, she hadn't been able to wish those bad things upon him, and that day in the gardens, and her chambers...those strange feelings she had gotten. Could it be love? Oh, and her gown! How sweet he had been to buy it for her. She had felt so special wearing it. He had made her feel special, but she couldn't forget everything else he had done to her. All of the bad things surfaced and stayed at the front of her mind. "You're not a coward...and I don't love him. I could never love someone who has caused me so much pain, nay, I hate him. My father arranged everything. It is to punish my disobedience, and his part in arranging father's marriage to your Aunt. The King hopes we will make each other as unhappy as Anna has made him." Thomas better watch out too because she was going to make his life a million times more unhappy then was even humanly possible.

[Phillip of Bavaria]

For a while Phillip just stood there, holding Mary gently in his arms, stroking her trembling back, listening to her panting breaths. He knew for some minutes he cannot do otherwise. Or even for an hour if it is needed. He was a fool enough to let Mary down, to leave her, but now he won't be a weak coward. No... He realized just now what he had done. He forgot his promise. There on that wonderful ball where he had met Mary for the first time he promised himself to take care for her no matter what. No matter what. And then what did he? He left soon after that event. And why? Because of a maniac king and his guards? Why? Why? This was a question he asked himself over and over again for months. And he couldn't really answer, as he hardly remembered anything from that day. He had no answers, and he knew he will never have any. Now, in this terrible moment he knew more surely than ever, that he should have stayed. He wouldn't have cared for the Tower. He could have fled from there, make Mary flee, whatever. And even if he would have died there and then in that terrible prison it just would have meant some more minutes, hours, days that he could have spent seeing her. But no... He left and with that he pushed Mary in the arm of someone else.

He needed all his strength not to rage, not to shout, as it was an unbearable thought to loose her. It was strange, as not long ago, when he arrived into this Palace, he held it quite possible, that Mary doesn't even want to see her, and was even prepared to that . But now, after seeing and kissing her, he felt again, that she was like air for him. And he thought it to be unbearable to walk away and leave her. Mary just cried and cried, and Phillip held her more and more tightly, kissing her hair, diving in her scent.

It broke his heart to hear Mary sobbing, it was as if a knife would cut into his heart. But he deserved it. He bitterly deserved it. And for a moment Phillip even wished that he really would have a knife, and he could stab it into the heart of any man who wanted to take Mary away from him. Then he realized, that the only person he should turn a weapon on was himself. It is him, who caused all this. It was all his fault. And he deserved to hear Mary sobbing, as he made her think that he left her, she must have cried bitter tears because of him. And he wasn't hear to dry them off. He wasn't here to make them disappear. No, he, fool idiot was lost in self pity while roaming through Europe... No, he doesn't even deserve Mary... And Mary deserves someone much better than he.

But then, as he looked into Mary's eyes, where tears were still shining, and she was smiling at him like on that very first night, he was overwhelmed by the love he felt for her. And for some foolish reasons Mary still loved him, he knew that, he felt it. He was lost in the ocean of her eyes, and he heard her words as if it would arrive from a very far place. ' "I am betrothed to Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, and my father's Lord Privy Seal.'

From shock and disbelief Phillip just starred at her and even chuckled, shaking his head. What? this was the only thing he was able to say at first. This must be a joke.... How? Thoughts were twirling in Phillip's head like mad. What nonsense idea it was? Mary, the purest Catholic, and the friend of the new faith? What was going on here? How is that possible... I mean I left just some months ago... How... Then a terrible thought woke up in Phillip.Wait.... He knew why I left... He knew very well... And he said you nothing about it... What sick plan does he have? What does he want? The Crown?

Phillip felt dizzy, were panting, and held Mary so tightly, as if he would be afraid she disappears in the very next second. For a moment he became uncertain again, but then Mary's words answered his silent question. 'You're not a coward...and I don't love him. I could never love someone who has caused me so much pain, nay, I hate him. My father arranged everything. It is to punish my disobedience, and his part in arranging father's marriage to your Aunt. The King hopes we will make each other as unhappy as Anna has made him.' So, Mary didn't love Thomas Cromwell... And all this is Henry Tudors pervert plan again? And because of Aunt Anne? Phillip felt such anger, loath, disgust like never before. He looked deep in Mary's eyes, and grabbed after her hand.

So, it's your father again.... He punishes you, because he is an animal, a sick creature, who ruined my aunts life? And she made him unhappy?? No... Mary, this won't happen. He tortured all of us enough. I won't let it happen. I talk with your father. I talk with Thomas Cromwell. If it's such a pervert plan then surely he isn't happy about it either. No, I won't let this marriage happen. I love you, you love me. We belong together, right? Then this time I won't flee. He leaned down and kissed Mary passionately. Then he raised and looked around on the corridor. We have to go out from here. No one ever will hurt you again. Come! He took Mary's hand and made a step.

[Mary Tudor]

His comfort and soothing did little to stop her tears. Broken hearts always were a tricky thing. No amount of soft words or gentle caresses could heal them. The sobs kept coming and as every sobbed wracked her delicate frame her chest grew tighter and tighter. She felt like she was drowning; choking on air...or rather on the lack of air. Mary gasped for breaths her chest heaving in the effort, and she wished for a moment that her damn bodice and corset were not so tight. Slowly, very slowly, she regained a steady breathing pattern and stopped the seemingly endless sobs. Tears still dripped down her cheeks, but they did so in quiet streams. Her eyes were sore and stinging from all of her tears, but that too would cease.

Having been parted from his arms for so long she would gladly have stayed in this position with him forever if he asked her to. It was entirely irrational of course. Staying like this, exactly like this, it was a ridiculous idea. As if the embrace was not compromising enough, they were standing in the dark corner of a corridor. Eventually someone would pass and see them. Then there was the other reason she didn't think it best to stay like this...she was sorrowful at present. It would be such a shame to spend eternity with him if she was in such a state. Forcing herself to correct the behaviour, she searched for a handkerchief in her skirts to clean off her tears. Finding none, she was forced to gently brush at the tears with her finger tips. It was just like her never to carry a handkerchief when she needed one. Typical woman...a man was always prepared. Smiling at the thought, she felt her chest loosening a bit, her heart was not so heavy.

Everything she had to contend with these past few months was so overwhelming, and she knew that there was so much more to come in the future. Mary liked to think that her future would still include Phillip. Part of her knew though that he had lost his chance when he had left that month or more ago. He may still hold her heart, but in her father's eyes, Phillip was a nothing, a nobody...a coward who had run away. It worried Mary too, his leaving...but, well, he had come back. His coming back said a lot! She thought so anyway, but what her father would think was an entirely different story. Even though she was sure she would still end up marrying Thomas, she would always love Phillip. He had captured her heart from those very first moments they had met. His impatience to see her and to be introduced properly had been...very cute, adorable really. For her part, she had been intrigued by him right away, and still was.

After she had finally gotten up the courage to make her little declaration, she watched carefully for his reaction. It was exactly what she had expected: shock, and disbelief. What surprised her was his chuckle. Mary couldn't even contain herself, "It's not funny!" she snapped at him stomping her foot on the ground like a child might do. She understood why he had chuckled...it was a fool idea on her father's part, but darn it! This was no laughing matter!! "He said what I assume my father told him to say," she offered weakly in her future husband's defence. She did not know if he had really planned all of this as she thought. Perhaps he really did not know why Phillip had left and told her what her father had instructed him to tell her. She did not know. Either way, Thomas Cromwell was in her bad books!

Phillip's grip on her tightened as if in fear that he might lose her. She wanted to ask him to be gentle for she was only very small and she bruised so easily, but she did not. Mary didn't want to risk Phillip releasing her entirely from his loving embrace. "Do not say such things...please...he is still my father after all." Foolish as it was, Mary could not help loving her father still. As to the other matter, well, her father had not ruined Anna's life. In fact, Mary thought Anna's life would be better now. "I dare say your Aunt's life has not been ruined. On the contrary, she is being offered a home here in England so that she does not have to return to shame in Cleves and be sold into another marriage. She will be welcomed into the Royal Family, given allowances, estates, and servants." God, Mary wished she could swap Anna places. How great it would be to have that much freedom! Anne would likely be allowed to marry whomever she wished, or remain single without any public scorn. Mary envied Anne.

As badly as she wanted to be with Phillip, to marry him. She did not see how talking to her father or Cromwell would help. Her father would just as soon see Phillip suffer a thousand painful deaths than even be in this country. "Do you think it safe? I couldn't bare the thought of your head sitting on a pike atop London Bridge." That was exactly what would happen too. It would be a warning to all. Question the King's judgement, lust after his pearl, and death awaits. She frowned at the image of his head left to rot on a pike and his body buried on unconsecrated soil. It brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. "Why would Thomas not be happy? Even if he had no part in the plan...the crown is now within his reach, all he need do is sire a son from me." She would not give him sons! She would not!! She would not!!! She would bare him daughter after daughter and no sons. That would put a wedge in his plans!

Knowing Phillip would fight for her and that he loved her made her very happy. All of his talk, it made her think that they could still have a future. It was impossible though, and she did not want to see him die for her. That thought was too much, it broke her heart. That little pang of pain in her heart left quickly as their lips met in a passionate kiss that left her smiling. But that familiar worry came back as he took her hand to lead her away again. "Where are we going?"

[Phillip of Bavaria]

Phillip really started to worry for Mary hearing her panting, listening to her irregular breathing. He realized again how fragile she was. But this thought he didn't mean in a bad way. Of course she was fragile. She had gone through a lot of things in her short life. And still Phillip knew she did everything not to show any fear or weakness. She had always such dignity, but Phillip knew that many times it was just a façade. And on some occasions, when something very bad happened, that shook her then everything she hid in her heart came out with full force. And this was happening in this very moment. And this was a two sided thing. As on one hand this outburst helped Mary to calm down, to get rid of pain and tension, But on the other hand it threatened Mary with destroying her...

Phillip was happy that he was by her side in this dramatic moment. He watched her face carefully, searching for any sign that could indicate that she would faint or something more serious would happen. Phillip felt that all his body, all his being became alerted. He was ready to protect her in any circumstances. He saw in front of his inner eyes that he takes her in his arms, brings her into her room, then watches her till she recovers. He had such dreams even before this, but those dreams were different as when they were in Mary's room in his dreams, Mary wasn't unconscious, she wasn't sleeping, they were loving each other. It was a beautiful dream, but in that moment couldn't be sure if this dream could ever become a reality.

But then a sudden silence brought him back to reality. Mary wasn't sobbing which made him relieved. She slowly breathed regularly. Phillip watched her searching for a kerchief. He didn't move for a second, as in his thoughts he kissed her tears one by one away. But he knew that it wouldn't be a wise move, as then maybe he couldn't stop, and if something would happen between them, that would be something wonderful, and he assumed Mary wouldn't be against it, it still wouldn't be right. So he forced himself out of his thoughts and handed a kerchief to Mary. Here, take it please. And then keep it as well. He didn't told Mary that kerchief was one of the few memories left from his mother. If Mary would knew this, she probably would want to give it back. But Phillip knew that the kerchief would have a good place. It belonged to the woman who was the most important in his life. And now the most important was Mary...


Phillip knew he shouldn't have chuckled, Mary's angry but adorable reaction showed it clearly, but he couldn't help it. It was an uncontrolled reaction of shock. He still forced himself to calm down, then he talked in an all serious voice. I know, it's not funny! Don't you think I do? It's just such a nonsense... But well, what should we await from Henry Tudor. Phillip pondered a while about Cromwell's explanation. He haven't seen of him on his last visit here, but he heard that much, that he always followed the King's orders. Sometimes even blindly.

When he heard Mary's words about her father he hoped again that Mary cannot speak German, If she would know that he wanted to kill Henry... she probably wouldn't stay with him. Nevertheless, he loosened his grip a bit, but didn't let her go completely. He feared Mary would vanish in the next second. He looked down at her apologetically. I'm sorry. I know he is your father... How could I forget it? Just... well, we are not on the best terms to put it very mildly. And as for my aunt... he sighed. On one hand you are right, she could be called even lucky that she survives. But the whole thing is humiliating somehow. And you know that allowances, estates, and servants are not everything... I for example would throw everything away just to be with you.

And as he heard Mary's words about his head on a pike, he felt shiver for a moment, but in that moment he realized is not afraid any more. He run away once, but he won't twice. No.! He saw the tears rolling down on Mary's face again, and this time he couldn't help. he simply kissed her face there where the tears were shining. Mary, please, don't cry. I have to do something. Last time I didn't... and you see where it led. And besides m y life is nothing without you. The thought that Thomas Cromwell just touches Mary made her sick. No, that ugly little bastard won't poison her with his thick lips. Never!

This thought helped him to decide that they have to leave immediately. He rushed on the corridor some steps, but then Mary's question stopped him. Well, yes, where were they going? Phillip stopped. He cannot simply take her to a tavern, where she should wait for days before they can leave England. She was still a Princess and Phillip would never forget that. She deserved everything to be fitting to her rank. And on the other hand, if he doesn't make proper preparations then their plan could fail, and even Mary's life would be in danger. No... they cannot simply marsh out. He slowly turned to Mary again. He took her face in his palms, and looked deep in her eyes.
Mary.... Listen to me. If it were just me, I would walk out with you from here now. We wouldn't stop till the end of the word. And if you really want to be with me, if You really love me, as you stated I bring you to Bavaria, or to Spain, to the country of your mother. Wherever you want! Just give me some days to make the preparations! I don't want to risk your life... You are more important than anything! I love you, I would die for you, so I will take you away from here! Just give some days, and we leave everything behind! Until then start to pack your most important belongings all right? As unnoticed as possible. I visit you as often as possible. I won't disappear this time, I promise. I swear. And take this as the token of my words. He reached to his pocket, where he knew was a necklace with a cross. He brought this to his aunt, but forgot to give her. Now, he thought it was God's will. He put down the cross from the necklace Then he pulled a ring from his finger, put it on the necklace, and then he gently and slowly put the jewellery on Mary's neck. Here... Now you have my word my ring. And I promise you that ring will be on your finger not in your neck. I love you, Mary Tudor, and I won't let you down ever again. He then kissed Mary for long moments again.Then pulling all his strength together he whispered. Now go! Please! If I accompany you to your room I will never leave that room.... But I promise that we will be together soon.

As Phillip watched as Mary walked away he was more determined than ever to be brave and bald and fight even against the whole world if that was needed. For her he would have done anything.

[Mary Tudor]

Mary never showed her emotions in public like this, she knew it would be perceived as weakness. Weakness was something she could not afford to exhibit as she knew that many at court would use it against her. They would suggest she had not the mental or physical strength to be Queen someday. It was just the ammunition that the Protestant sect needed. Drawing on that fact and fear, she calmed herself enough that she felt fine once more. "Thank you," she whispered accepting the handkerchief he extended towards her and using it to dab away her tears. It was sweet of him really. Up until now she had nothing to remember him by. Now she did.

I know you know, it's just I'm on edge and your laughter...was not the expected reaction," she sighed softly. Great way with words Mary. After mentally scolding herself for getting momentarily annoyed at him, she took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. She even forced herself to forget all his words about her father. Honestly, she had very mixed emotions about Henry. "Well, I'm trying to be on better terms with him." Honestly, she was trying to be kind and friendly to form some type of relationship with her father, but she was unsure if it was working. Was her father even worth her effort? Anne of Cleves...well, she could probably tell Phillip why it was good she was tossed aside for hours and he would still see it as a humiliating insult. It was better though. She got to live, she got estates, she was going to be happy. "You know he would never have loved her. It's an entirely different situation Phillip, you would only give up all those things because you love me." If he did not love her he would have been glad to have all those things rather than her.

Mary's eyes fluttered closed as his lips met her cheeks kissing away some of the tears that dripped like rivers from her eyes. No one had ever done something so sweet for her. "I'm sorry," she whispered dabbing at the remaining tears with the handkerchief. "I would rather you be alive and not with me than know that it's because of me you are dead. I can't even bare the thought please...please speak no more of it." She really couldn't handle it, once again she was near tears. Mary would rather spend her entire life with Cromwell, and know that Phillip was alive somewhere loving her, than see any harm come to him.

Mary couldn't help thinking his plan was a little bit. Well, unplanned, dangerous...she was frightened honestly, but for him she would do it. Mary would have gone anywhere with him if he had asked her to. "Anywhere. I'll go anywhere with you," she whispered kissing him softly. "All right," she nodded, "Take as long as you need my love." They were really doing this. It was completely crazy and good God she had just agreed to it. Why had she agreed? It was absurd, and may not succeed, but she loved him and was willing to try it. When she heard word that he was ready, she would pack, and she didn't need to pack much, just a few things that reminded her of her mother and other people she loved. She knew Phillip would take care of any clothes she needed after they left. Mary had no doubt that he would provide for her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him pull a ring from his finger and attach it to a necklace, which he fastened around her neck. Suddenly this felt all very real. Her fingers reached for the ring that dangled at the end of the chain and she held the small object in her closed hand for a moment. "Thank you," was all she could manage her eyes sparkling with happy tears for once. After his kiss ended she managed to say she loved him too, before doing as he asked and departing towards, well she didn't know where really.