Capítulo 85: The prince's lands
Kara stood in front of the large, round mirror that was located in her room.
She was barely twenty-five and although she had a five-year-old boy, she hadn't lost anything of her natural beauty.
She stood in front of the mirror, observing herself, her body.
She looked more at the beautiful Atlantic blue color which from her large eyes reflected off the flat, smooth surface of the mirror.
Her face, her small nose, her soft lips, her long, wavy and brown hair.
The old king had died that year and the eldest son of his second marriage succeeded him to the throne.
Henry did not initially seem to have taken the news very well, as more than anything else, he too wished to possess a throne and some lands.
But his house was not there, in France, Kara had immediately understood, perceived, that the thing that was most precious for man was to claim his place on the throne of England.
Clear rays of sunlight illuminated Kara's face, she must have known, those times were difficult and it was complicated to follow her husband's plans.
For months now Henry and his cousin Juniper had been in close correspondence, working hard to arrange a meeting and gather forces to unseat Isabelle.
Obviously, as the direct heir to the English crown, Henry had not waited to respond confirming his participation in the council and just at that moment a crossroads had opened for the two.
-I'll go, whatever it takes- a voice behind her made itself heard, drawing attention with it -it's too important for us, I can't let someone take it away from us...-.
Kara snorted.
Her husband was so stubborn that she had a hard time making him think.
She turned towards the bed, observed for a long time the tall and slender body of the man lying there, on top of the covers.
Sunbeams flooded his face and with them gave his golden hair a particular shine.
The prince looked at the ceiling, he seemed obstinate on one side, although very sad and depressed on the other.
-You cannot go to English territories like this, Henry, you are a prince and your sister certainly will not have stopped hunting you, it is very risky for you to go…-.
The woman couldn't be too hard on him, she loved that man and for her he was everything left she had, so she couldn't afford to lose him, not now that their young son was growing up.
The man slowly turned his gaze to her, he hadn't slept for several nights and was very tense.
Kara couldn't do much for him, she wasn't particularly interested in taking power, she wasn't ambitious enough to become a queen.
Everything would be fine as long as her husband was at her side, she smiled at him.
She felt so much love for that man and for no reason did she want him to risk his life, not for her, not for their child, not for himself.
-I will go if it is not a problem for you, I know how much you care about your lands and I understand you, I am willing to represent France on your behalf... do not forget that I have a lot of experience as an ambassador- Kara proposed.
She knew perfectly well a pretender to the crown as dangerous as Henry could not return to England with that ease, the prince could not risk ending up on the guillotine like his mother.
They had to be smart, not risk so much, knowing that even for Kara the goal would not be so simple.
In their five years of marriage she had begun to speak English, her husband had taught her, she had been speaking it well, quite fluently.
Language was not a problem, not as much as blood nobility.
In fact Karassandra was not a noble of rank, while her husband was a prince and in his veins ran the blood of the two most important royal houses, the English one on the paternal side and the French one on the maternal side.
He was too big a hunk and if Isabelle could have her older half brother back in her hands she certainly wouldn't have let him live.
Isabelle, only eighteen, had already earned the reputation of a killer.
Henry, however, she would not have touched him, Kara would have forbidden it even at the cost of having to kill the princess with her own hands.
The touch of his hands on the ambassador's skin quickly awakened her from her revenge fantasies.
-Think about it Kara, it's too dangerous...- a voice whispered in one of her ears, as if he was confiding to her the most secret of mysteries -I know my sister, I know she's a dangerous person, so please think again...-.
But she didn't want to rethink her actions at all, she would never let her husband leave her, not like that, not risking his life and putting others at risk.
-I will leave tomorrow, so that in ten hours I will arrive in Scotland, at the Glasgow council, I am an ambassador after all, this is my job...-.
But the woman's words didn't seem to be able to influence him, not even make him rethink his choice.
To prevent those deeds from happening, it was that same night that Henry's plan was put into action.
The prince had been communicating with his cousin Juniper of the congress for months and despite being in agreement a strong fear still kept the prince from crossing the borders with England.
The Baron had reassured him several times of his idea: Henry would arrive there, disembarking at the port of Perth, hoping that none of the English fleets would be able to receive any trace of him.
Once he landed in Scotland, Isabelle's rule would have little effect on him and with that on the British army.
He just had to board in the middle of the night before Kara could find out about his plan, before his younger half-sister could intercept him.
These were his thoughts at the time, and as a French ship was not well regarded in England given the past and subsequent war, he should have been very cautious.
It would be a matter of a few days, he would go back there, if he managed to cross the sea.
The North Sea was divided between Scottish and British and French fleets in the southern part, but if something went wrong he knew that his cousin would have his back.
The Scots were much more determined and free than the British and given their political position it would not have been their main intent to oppose them.
Henry got out of bed, slowly, so that his wife could not sense him awakening.
It was completely dark, he couldn't light candles or the oil lamp, as he would risk waking her up.
The prince looked at her for a few seconds, she was turned away, so he could not notice anything else but her back and the long brown hair that covered it.
He loved Kara more than anything else in the world and for that very reason he couldn't make her risk her life.
He had left her a letter on the pillow beside her head.
Henry had written it quickly with ink and nib.
He would have sailed before dawn, he knew that his wife could not do anything to stop him.
In the darkness he looked at her, she was so amazing, it was so impressive looking at the person he loved before risking his life.
He got dressed quickly, thought about his plan and although it made him feel bad, sad, he couldn't risk making everything fall apart.
He had to do it for himself, for his wife, for their son.
He closed the door slowly behind him.
His son, he was the last person he had to say goodbye before leaving.
Little Philip had just turned five and he admired and respected his father with an affection that was impossible to express in words.
Henry knew well his child's loyalty, and that was why he had to say goodbye to him last, because he was sure he wouldn't reveal anything, not even to his mother.
In addition he was still small and certainly not finding his father anymore he would have been alarmed and frightened and the prince did not want these things to happen to his son at all.
Henry entered his lighted room.
Philip must have, due to his exhaustion, forgotten to turn off the oil lamp and none of the attendants had noticed it in time to be able to do it in his place.
The child was lying in bed, under the covers, sleeping soundly.
His small mouth, his lips were parted, his hair of the brown that the child had inherited from his mother was scattered on the pillow and partly on his face.
Philip was so beautiful and once he became Prince of England, everyone would bend down before him.
The child had inherited the beautiful light grey eyes from his father.
He had a pale face, where only the his small cheeks seemed to glow with a peculiar blush in the candlelight.
The father was almost sorry to have to wake him up, he slept so well, gracefully, he looked like an angel, with his innate beauty.
But he felt he had to do it, because that was right, not even being aware of whether that was the last time he had the opportunity to see him again.
He shook slowly, with one of his hands the small and narrow shoulders of the child, leaving him a few seconds to open his eyes.
He blinked several times he was sleepy.
Philip rubbed his hands against his eyes, leaving a red mark under them.
He was clearly confused by the whole situation but in his tiredness the child seemed curious to find out what was happening in that moment, in the middle of the night.
-Father...- came out of Philip's small and thin lips almost as a secret whisper -it's still night, what's going on?-.
The prince looked away from his son, seeing those eyes, that hair, that genetic resemblance to Kara, for a few seconds it was difficult even for him to be able to communicate what was really going on.
Henry's golden hair was illuminated by the reflections of the oil lamp, making his pale face stand out.
-I will return to England, for a few days only, it is an important matter...- he tried as quickly and simply as possible to summarise not wanting to worry the child.
-At that time, however, promise me that you will take care of your mother, you will do it for me, right?-.
Henry couldn't finish the sentence correctly as both of his son's arms closed around his neck.
He was struck for the first few seconds, how these attitudes of affection were not particularly welcome in royal families but nothing mattered at that moment, nothing more than his son.
Philip's brown hair was thus placed on his father's white shirt, he was holding him close, with so much strength and concern.
-Please father, do not go, do not leave me alone, I have no idea how I could do without you...- the voice of the child emitted a certain sadness in it, almost like that of someone who is about to cry.
The man hugged his son's body, dipped his fingers in his brown hair, returned his embrace, although he knew he had to go.
-I'll be back soon, I promise you- Henry reassured him placing a kiss on his son's thick hair -I promise...-.
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