FRAGMENTS OF A DYNASTY
Summary: Henry thinks of the betrayal of Katherine Howard.
Pairings: Henry/Kitty/Katherine of Aragon/Anne Boleyn/Jane Seymour/Anne of Cleves/Bessie Blount/others, Kitty/Thomas Culpepper/others implied.
He had been tricked.
Again.
By another Howard woman.
Bitterness, anger, hatred, and all those terrible feelings rise as he curses himself for being such a fool. As if a young girl like Kitty Howard would truly be in love with an old man like him. He had gained far too much weight, greyed far too much for his liking, and could barely move with ease as he once did. His leg stank and he could not satisfy a woman properly as he once did.
A pretty young girl with many men flocking around her, flattering her, flirting with her, well...it was no wonder she went for Culpepper and all those other ones. He had been a fool to think that someone could love him for him. It is only the crown they see. Just like Anne. All she saw was being queen and keeping the title, she never really loved him.
Though he desperately wished that was not true. That Kitty loved him. That they all loved him but he doubts it. He thinks the only wife to love him only ever loved him as a sibling or a child.
He had been a fool. But then so had she, thinking she could get away with it, get with child and pass it off as his own.
Now with a clear mind that was not clouded with lust he can see what a silly girl she truly was. Kitty Howard was a child. She played with toys, she made crude jokes, she could barely write let alone speak, read, write multiple languages and hold philosophical or political discussions like his four other wives. She did not understand her own body. Young as she is it is natural to miss a course under some form of stress – she simply thought she was with child and gotten his hopes up for no reason.
He was a fool to think there would be a Prince Henry, Duke of York or a Princess Margret to marry off to a royal house and form an alliance.
She was a simply just a fool. A fool that liked to dance in the rain like a wild child or a woman drenched in witchcraft, a fool that did not understand public opinion and how it favoured Mary the most, a fool that was petty and held childish grudges against his own children, a fool who thought he was having an affair when he was simply ill.
To think he was in love with this silly little fool.
More fool him.
We are all fools in love, someone had once said. Well then, he was a fool several times over – a fool for Katherine of Aragon, a fool for Anne Boleyn, a fool for Jane Seymour, a fool for the idea of Anne of Cleves, a fool for Bessie, a fool in general.
Forget his fool who makes jokes and cause laughter; he could do the task by simply being in love.
He was a fool. There was no doubt about that.
But so was she.
He would pay for his foolishness by losing another wife. She would pay by losing her head.
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