Soon after the ceremony the French envoy, De Vaux, came to London. He had been sent, the Countess told me, by the mother of François who was acting as the Regent of France during the King's absence in Madrid.

“Why is he here?” I asked.

“It is to make terms with your father.”

“That means there is peace with France?”

“There will be.”

“What of the Emperor? Our alliance with him is over?”

“Well, the war is over now.”

“So we are no longer friends with him?”

“Oh, it will be amicably settled… but no one has any wish to continue with the war.”

“But why does the French envoy come here?”

“He will make peace terms with your father.”

“It seems so strange. We hated them so much and now there are lavish entertainments for the French.”

“That is diplomacy.”

“I do not understand it.”

“Few people understand diplomacy. It is a veil of discretion and politeness covering the real meaning.”

“Why do people not say what they mean?”

“Because that could be very disturbing.”

I did know that I was one of the subjects which was being discussed by my father, the Cardinal and the French envoy. First it was announced that I was to go to Ludlow.

My mother came to tell me this. I noticed that she looked older. There was gray in her hair, more lines on her face, and her skin had lost its healthy color.

“You are to go to Ludlow, my dear child,” she told me. “You will like it there.”

“I wonder why I am so suddenly to go,” I said. I was beginning to realize that there were usually reasons.

“Your father thinks it would be good for you to go. You see, Ludlow is an important place. Your Uncle Arthur was there just before he died. I remember it well. It is a very beautiful spot. Prince Arthur was Prince of Wales when he was there, and you will be the Princess of Wales. Your father is going to give you that title.”

I was pleased, particularly as I had felt that fluttering of alarm because of the honor done to Henry Fitzroy.

“Your household will go with you,” my mother explained. “It will be just as it is here.”

“And you, my lady?”

Her lips tightened as though she were trying to control some emotion.

“I shall, of course, be with the Court. But we shall meet often and there will be no change. Your father will wish you to go very soon.”

The Countess told me that it was good that we were going. “It means,” she explained, “that your father is telling the world that you are Princess of Wales.”

“That means the heir to the throne, does it not?”

“It does indeed.”

“Perhaps he thought that people wondered after the honor done to Henry Fitzroy.”

“Oh, that was not important. You must not think that it detracts from you. You are his daughter. Everyone knows that. They know the respect that is due to you. Now we shall have to prepare for your departure, which I believe is to be soon.”

MY PARENTS AND the Court accompanied me to Langley in Hertfordshire, and there I said goodbye to them. There was some constraint between my parents, and I thought there was something forced in my father's laughter. He was almost boisterously merry. He embraced me warmly and referred to me as his Princess, the Princess of Wales.

The Countess had told me that it was the first time the title had been bestowed on a member of the female sex, so I should be very proud. My mother smiled on me warmly but she could not hide her sorrow from me. I wanted to protect her, to share her unhappiness—if she would but tell me the cause of it. I still thought it had something to do with the Emperor and believed we might have comforted each other.

There was a certain sadness when we parted, although my mother said we should meet often and my father took every opportunity of showing his affection for me.

At length they had gone and I, with my entourage, made my way to Ludlow.

The countryside is exceptionally beautiful, and the castle stood on the north-west side of the charming town. Some of the people came out of their houses to cheer me as I passed, and that pleased me.

The Countess told me that in the castle I should have a larger household than I had had before. Princess Mary had become the Princess of Wales, and there was a distinction.

I was gratified. I had been foolish, I told myself, to have had qualms about the little bastard Fitzroy. How could I have thought that the King would contemplate putting him above me just because he was a boy? The people loved me. They had shown that. “God bless the little Princess,” they had shouted. They could not call Henry Fitzroy a prince. He was, after all, only Bessie Blount's son and I was the daughter of a princess of Spain.

The castle was a fine example of Norman architecture, having been built very soon after the Norman Conquest by a certain Roger de Montgomery. In a way there were sad memories within its walls for there, after the death of his father, little Edward V had lived for a while. It was in this very castle that he had been proclaimed King, and three months later he had been in the Tower with his young brother the Duke of York where, it was said, he had been murdered by his uncle, Richard III. I could not help thinking of that little boy who had lived here with a terrible fate hanging over him. It was a reminder of what harm could come to princes from those who coveted the throne.

My mother's first husband had lived here with her for five months before he died in this very castle. I imagined her living here…a young girl…in a new land. How sad for her when, so young, she found herself a widow.

She had spoken of those days with sadness. It was as though she looked shudderingly over her shoulder at the past. She had been alone and poor for so long before my father, like a gallant knight, had rescued her and made her his bride.

And now here was I, wondering now and then why I had been elevated and given a larger household. I did not know then that it was less grand than that which had been bestowed on Henry Fitzroy.

Life was different here. It was my first taste of queenship, for I was a little queen here. I was made to feel important. I had certain duties, and they were those of a ruler. I realized I was learning how to rule. People brought petitions to me and I presided over a Council. The Countess was invariably at my side. She taught me how to speak to the Council, how to deal with the people who came asking favors. There was less time spent at my desk. These were different lessons.

My household consisted of an impressive number of officials. I had my Lord Steward, the Chamberlain, Treasurer and Controller and many more, including fourteen ladies, all of high birth and in the charge of the Countess who ruled over us all and to whom I could always turn in moments of uncertainty.

I was forgetting my disappointment over the Emperor, although I could not entirely believe that he would not marry me. All the same, I was enjoying my new status. This was a miniature Court and I was learning to become a queen. I realized that I should enjoy that very much.

How different life had become from those long days of study under the guidance of Johannes Ludovicus Vives. The only thing lacking was the company of my mother. I thought of her often and used to say to myself: I wonder whether she sat here? Did she and Arthur walk along this path? It was long, long before I was born. It is hard when one is young to imagine a world without oneself.

Christmas came. It was a very merry one. I was at the center of the revelry. We had our Lord of Misrule and many masques and I led the dances.

The Countess said she was delighted that I was enjoying the fun. I had a faint impression, though, that she was keeping something from me, which brought a little uneasiness into the jollity; but in those first months at Ludlow I was a little intoxicated with my new power. I had learned that I cared passionately about my position. I had not known before how much I wanted to be a queen.