28th of October 1533 - Marseille, France

"My Duke of Orléans, I believe your bride would like a dance," King Francis stated leaning over to speak with his son, it was a grand occasion and no would not have his son ignore his new bride on such a day. 

The wedding had been a grand affair marked by extravagant display and gift-giving, which had seen the Duke of Orléans joust for his new bride though even Francis could not ignore the looks around the room that his son have. 

He had made it clear that Diane de Poitiers was not to attend the festivities nor the wedding, the French King was no means a fool and would not entertain his son's growing infatuation on the woman. 

Ignoring the look of annoyance on his son's face, Francis turned away from his son to focus back on the feast; the sound of Henri getting to his feet and offering his hand to Catherine made Francis smile. 

"I hear that our cousin has birthed another daughter," Queen Marguerite of Navarre mused softly, the news had arrived that morning and they had not had the chance to discuss such news with the wedding. 

Her eyes focused on the new Duchess of Orléans, she was not what the Queen had expected and she was not sure what to make of the girl. 

Catherine was an odd one, certainly not what Marguerite had expected when Francis had announced that he would marry his son to the wealthy orphan Medici girl that was related to the Pope. 

When the Medici had been overthrown in Florence by a faction opposed to the regime of Clement's representative, Cardinal Silvio Passerini, and Catherine was taken hostage and placed in a series of convents. 

Marguerite could only imagine what her time had been like there separated from her family, she had seen what such captivity had been like for her brother and beloved nephews. 

She recalled Clarice pacing the halls awaiting news of the girl that she adored as if her own sister, the fighting only halting when Charles had been crowned Holy Roman Emperor. 

Such talks had felt like a lifetime ago and Marguerite was most proud that her cousin had broken away from the accursed Pope who had tried to convince her to lower herself to the position of a common whore for his own needs.

"The child has been named Filiberta for our aunt," Francis stated sipping on his goblet of wine, it gave him hope of a further alliance with the English; there was no denying now that those who surrounded the King were against an imperial alliance. 

It suited the French simply fine, they had not forgiven nor had they forgotten the humiliation that they had suffered at the hands of the Emperor and the fact that the man's aunt had been proven as mad as his mother was just another nail in the coffin. 

"A fine name, I believe our aunt would have been most pleased," Marguerite agreed with a smile, she had only meet her mother's sister a few times and the Duchess of Nemours had been a quiet woman who preferred her own estates to being a court. 

Of course, she would never have refused attendance to court when summoned in fear of what that may mean for her daughter who she had hoped would find a good match at French court. 

"Surely her Lord Husband must be greatly disappointed," Eleanor of Austria stated knowing that many a man would have been displeased with a second daughter. 

She had birthed her first husband two children, her son being called to God before he wad even two years old and her daughter who lived in the royal court of Portugal. 

Her heart ached at being parted from her only living child, she had done her duty to her brother and country by marrying the French King; their position weaker than ever after the madness that seemed to take their aunt. 

The stain of betrayal that Katherine had caused was one that would mark their family for life, even now she knew her very movements were being watched in fear she may be a traitorous whore like her. 

"Two healthy daughters in as many years of marriage is a good sign, better than no children at all," Marguerite pointed out sipping at her goblet of wine and staring over the cup at Francis's bride. 

The woman had not produced any children for the french royal nursery and those of the court whispered that she was as cursed as her aunt had been to produce no children. 

Afterall, Good Queen Claude had birthed seven children to the King and the King's attention to his mistresses had been noted; it seemed that the issue lay with his Habsburg wife, though even Marguerite knew that the two did not share a bed. 

People would gossip especially with all that had happened in England, Katherine had stained her family whether she knew it or not; she had brought naught but shame upon them since it was revealed that she was a liar. 

The fact that she like her sister had been sent to a nunnery for her madness was no surprise, her actions would have led to a war that France would have happily sided with England for. 

"The Duke and Duchess of Bedford have asked our Duke and Duchess of Orléans to serve as Godparents to the girl," Francis recalled pleased to see that Clarice had not forgotten her family across the Narrow Sea even if they had not been on the best of terms. 

It was a great honour for his second son and new daughter to be asked such a thing, they had agreed without a second thought; they needed to strengthen their ties to England. 

While Queen Anne was pro-France and had served in Marguerite's household and that of Queen Claude; Francis knew his hope rested on his son and his new bride producing children on their own. 

While Henri might have been a second son but if he produced a daughter then perhaps, she would be considered as a potential bride for the young Prince of Wales; she would be a far better match than that offered by the Emperor. 

It would surely be a long time before England even considered a Spanish match after what Katherine had done to the country and what she had done to assure her place as Queen. 

If Catherine de' Medici was anything like Clarice, then they would surely not have to wait for long; they would soon be welcoming a child by their new Duchess that Francis was sure. 

***

Staring down at Filiberta who was nestled in his arms, George smiled softly unable to believe that this was happening; he felt blessed that God had gifted him with such a life after what had felt like years of unhappiness. 

His marriage to Jane Parker had been short lived and had been far from happy, they had gotten on well enough but it was clear that the marriage was not destined to be a happy one nor one blessed with children. 

Contessina and Filiberta were everything that George had ever wanted, he adored his girls even if their births had greatly disappointed his father who was desperate for a male heir named for himself. 

Not that George would ever consider such a name, despite everything he could not ignore how ambitious his father was and how his desires could have ruined their family. 

George would never put his daughter's through that, they would make fine marriages and he would ensure that they would not be put into situations like the ones their aunts had. 

He might not have been able to protect Mary and Anne from his father and uncle's plotting but he would protect his daughters; he refused to consider any matches that his father put forward for them. 

Contessina and Filiberta were the nieces of the Queen, they would be highly sort after matches as it was and George had already received a letter hinting that Filiberta might even find herself as a companion to her cousin, the Princess Elizabeth one day. 

With only a month between Filiberta and her royal cousin, it made her the perfect companion when she became of age to enter the royal nursery; something that even George would not be able to say no to. 

It seemed only right that they named their daughter after Clarice's mother, Anne had named her daughter for their mother and George wished to continue to honour the side of the family that their children would never meet. 

Ippolito was the only real family that Clarice had left, she would likely not see her cousin who was by now the new Duchess of Orléans. 

He would never get to meet her parents and he could only hope that they would have approved of him, that they were honouring the Medici side even though Clarice was now a Boleyn. 

Kissing the top of Filiberta's head, George vowed to make sure that his children had a happy childhood; one like he had shared with his own parents before power and greed had corrupted his father. 

Contessina and Filiberta would be safe and loved, they would play in the gardens and he would ensure they would want for nothing.