15th of July 1533 - Richmond Palace

Holding her head high as she climbed out of her carriage, Margaret Tudor stared up at the Palace where she had spent her childhood; it had been many years since she had been here and so much had happened since she had last been here. 

It had never crossed her mind that she would have to return for the funeral of one of her siblings, especially not when things had been going so well. 

The news that her brother had remarried and welcomed a son was pleasing, she had been horrified when she had learned of Katherine's actions considering the two women had been close when they would both been at English court. 

Margaret smoothed her black dress, she was dressed in mourning for her sister and she had come back to England to attend her funeral knowing that now only she and Henry remained. 

After many years in Scotland, Margaret was surprised to see how much had changed for the court; it felt different to the court that she had left behind and her father had ruled over. 

Making her way inside, Margaret could not help but think about growing up here; she could almost hear her parents laughing and see their smiling faces while she and her siblings played. 

The herald announced her arrival and Margaret knew that her time in England would be spent ensuring peace between her and her brother's kingdoms; she did not want her son's position threatened by her brother. 

Making her way through the court towards the dais, Margaret recognised few in attendance and took notice that many that were here would be supporters of the Queen. 

She had not meet the new wife and Margaret had almost been amused from the pious warnings of her brother that marriage was divinely ordained and his protests against the shameless sentence sent from Rome. 

At the time he had himself had been trying to rid himself of Katherine, who had later been proven to be a traitor to the throne that she had once held.

"Brother," Margaret greeted stiffly, she had always been closer to Arthur than she had been with Henry just as he had always been closer to Mary; she could see how devastated he was at her loss. 

She remembered how she had felt when they had buried Arthur, she had cried for what felt like days and she had been so angry that God had taken her brother from her; it should be him sitting on the throne. 

"Sister," Henry replied softly, the years had been kind to her it seemed and he was surprised that she had come back for the funeral; he had expected her to stay in Scotland instead of making the trip to London for the funeral. 

"Allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Anne," Henry continued turning to his wife and pressing a kiss to her hand, her pregnant belly on display and Margaret was not sure how to feel about seeing this woman. 

Despite the fact that Henry was free to marry whoever he wished, there was something about the fact that he had gone on to marry his former mistress that unsettled her. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty," Anne greeted softly with respect, her dark eyes taking in the woman that was now her sister by marriage; she wanted nothing more than for this to go well. 

Margaret was the only family that her husband had left, his parents were gone and she had never known Arthur while Mary had been rather distant siding most likely Katherine during everything. 

The last thing Anne wished was to get off on a bad foot with Margaret, despite the fact that they had never got along she was sure that Henry was relieved that his sister was here at this time. 

No matter what had happened in the past, they only had each other now and if they wanted peace between their countries then they could start here. 

Margaret had a son and he was ruling by his own right, he was seeking a bride and if they did not wish for him to be starting a war on their doorstep then they needed to keep the peace. 

That would start by speaking with Margaret, they would need her if they were to continue the peace between the Kingdoms of England and Scotland; perhaps even seal it again by marriage when the time was right. 

Perhaps one of their future daughters would sit upon the Scottish throne like their aunt had done for many years one day.

***

The funeral for Mary Tudor, Queen of France, Duchess of Suffolk was a grand affair befitting her former station as the Queen of France; a delegation from France joined the English delegation for the lavish funeral ceremony. 

The procession was headed by her daughters, Frances and Eleanor acting as chief mourners at the funeral followed by their older half-sisters from their father's first marriage. 

Their father was with their uncle both unable to attend as it was against tradition for them to be in attendance, the entire court having entered mourning at the news of Mary Tudor's death. 

The funeral procession included a hundred torch bearers, clergy carrying the cross, six horses pulling the hearse, other nobility and a hundred of the duke's yeomen; a funeral fit for the former Queen and beloved sister of the country's King. 

Sitting in the dark of his chambers, Henry could not help but feel lost at the fact that his beloved Mary was gone; he would not deny that the last few years had not been the best. 

Her being such a strong supporter of Katherine had not helped and the fact that she had been so opposed to his marriage to Anne when he had been seeking his own happiness like she had done had stung. 

Out of everyone he had been sure that Mary would understand that, she had defied him in 1515 when King Louis XII of France had died and had gone on to marry Charles without his blessing. 

In time Henry was certain that Mary would have come to love Anne like she had done Katherine, the two perhaps becoming close like sisters and he would have been happy with that. 

Peace between them had always been his goal, he had seen her try since Katherine's betrayal had been revealed; her presence at court was welcomed and she did treat Anne with the respect that she deserved. 

Henry held into his goblet as he turned his thoughts to his other sister, he had no idea what to make of the fact that Margaret was here back at English court.

It had been many years since he had seen her, he knew that Margaret's husband had invaded England to honour his commitment to the Auld Alliance, only to meet death and disaster at the Battle of Flodden. 

The very idea that she had returned to England in an effort to restore the peace between the two countries after it had been lost so many years ago was a surprise; Henry wondered how her son had come to such a decision especially with the sudden death of Mary.

King James V of Scotland had been reigning on his own since 1528 and Henry had not paid much attention to the man that was his nephew; his attention having been rather distracted by his Great Matter. 

The incentive for peace with Scotland only remained for as long as Margaret lived, having now lost two siblings Henry doubted that it would be long before there was only one of them left and he knew they were not getting any younger. 

The doors to the chamber opened and Margaret stepped inside, she held her head high and waited for the doors to close behind her before she made her way over to him. 

Pouring herself a drink, Margaret did not speak nor did she look towards her brother before she took a seat at the table; she took a big gulp of her drink taking in the silence of the room. 

Neither spoke for a time and Henry was almost thankful for that, both revelled in the silence of the room around them, allowing them to think about all that they had both lost. 

Their father, mother and siblings were gone and now only the two of them remained, barely speaking to one another and their lives so different; neither knowing much about the other anymore. 

Margaret had married and left England when he had been twelve and barely spoke with him since, it was only a year after Arthur had passed when she had gone; she did not think she had even returned when their father had died. 

The last time Margaret had seen their father was when he had taken her to Scotland so that she could meet her husband and start her life as Queen Consort of Scotland. 

Margaret had written letters to their father declaring her homesickness, but he could do nothing but mourn the loss of his family and honour the terms of the peace treaty he had agreed to with the King of Scotland. 

"To our Mary," Henry stated holding up his goblet, he did not look at Margaret as she shared his statement and clinked her goblet with his. Everything around them was changing, it felt quite different from when they were children and growing up in their parents court.