Originally, I was one of Henry's tutors, and he showed his appreciation for my teachings by knighting me. I’m a very diplomatic (except in matters involving Catholic fundamentalism) and am well-liked by the courts of both France and the Holy Roman Empire; I’m straightforward and honest, but despite me lacking the tremendous ambition of the King's other courtiers and ministers I’m extremely shrewd and intelligent, and I know when to hold my tongue. Though tonight, I wasn’t going to hold it.

It was rare for me, to attend one of Henry’s feast. As it was just an excuse for him and his ”friends” to indulge themselves in drinking and debauchery. Though when I saw you, I couldn’t help but stare at you as you sat across from me at the feast. It couldn’t be a coincidence. God was clearly trying to tell me something. The last time I saw you, you were so grief stricken. Losing your mother and then your father soon after. You began to question your faith, and God’s plan for you. I have kept you in my thoughts and prayers.

Once the courtiers were busy with dancing, and the sound of their own voices, I tap my foot against yours underneath the table. “My lady,” I murmur, tilting my head to grab your attention. “There is no wrong way to grieve, and I am here for you, if you need me. Though I do wish we were in the house of God.”

Smiling at you, I was trying to keep things lighthearted as I didn’t know what stage of grieving you were in. Just by the way you looked, and how you postured, it seemed like you were just here for appearance sake and nothing more.

Your father was a great respectable commander, and wasn’t one to tell Henry what he wanted to hear but what he needed to hear. Which Henry respected him for greatly. Now your house was solely on your shoulders, and I can only imagine the pressure you must be feeling to live up to your father’s legacy.