monarch

The news of the king's serious illness was brought to every corner by Mercury, the god of messengers, as if he had wings.Just five days later, all 54 counties in England knew that His Majesty Henry VIII's time was numbered.The news reached Paris three days later, Vienna six days later, and ten days later it was on the desk of the Turkish Sultan in Constantinople.

In the history of the Kingdom of England, the transition of the throne has always been the most dangerous time.By order of the Privy Council, the sheriffs began to mobilize the army, the ships of the navy blocked the channel, and all trading ships were interned in the harbour.Cloth and wool from England piled up on the docks of Dover, London, and Southampton, and across the Channel in Antwerp and Calais in much the same way.The entire Kingdom of England is like a frightened hedgehog, every spike stands up, staring at all suspicious objects with suspicious eyes.

The King's Room at Greenwich Palace is crowded with a dozen doctors, and it has become a doctor's den.Medical instruments are piled around the ornate room, which smells suffocatingly of herbs.His Majesty's Chief Physician, Dr. Paganini, is like the desperate captain of a sinking sailing ship, doing his best to keep the terrified sailors trying to keep the ship.

It's New Years in the blink of an eye, but no one is in the mood to celebrate the arrival of 1547.The Privy Council was in disarray, and the King's lawyers insisted that he could not publish His Majesty's will unless he died or Parliament declared him incapacitated and required a regency.On such days, however, the country gentlemen of the House of Commons were lying comfortably by the fireside, drinking ale, and abusing their wives in the most vicious terms.So imagine what a challenge it was to summon Parliament at a time like this - to pull the squires out of their warm lounge chairs and send them on a cold wind-ridden journey for hundreds of miles to London was entirely Hercules's Task.

Half a month later, when the members of the Privy Council finally came up with a way to continue the work, Dr. Paganini finally reported to the Privy Council that His Majesty will wake up in a day or two.It was like throwing a stone in the pond, and all the fish started to writhe.

January 26th was a fine winter day, and the Earl of Hertford got up at his usual time, and took a walk in the pretty garden behind his mansion.The pale sun hangs in the sky, emitting a feeble light.The cold wind blows the withered branches, those branches have been bent by the snow, everything is so quiet, it can even be regarded as a bit desolate.

The earl, who returned to the mansion, spent the rest of the morning reviewing several official documents and writing several letters.At eleven o'clock he finished his brunch, and ordered his servants to harness to the Privy Council.

Since Greenwich Palace is only a detached palace, in order to facilitate His Majesty's treatment, the entire court returned to the Whitehall Palace in the city.The ministers of the Privy Council also moved with the unconscious king to a hall near the king's suite.

When the Earl of Hertford arrived at the meeting of the Privy Council, an insignificant member of this noble institution was delivering a sleepy tirade in his even voice.With the king's sudden coma, the administrative organization of the entire kingdom is like a big ship sliding forward by inertia on a windless sea. It is not only impossible, but also extremely dangerous to make any major decisions at this time.Therefore, the tycoons in the Privy Council who really wield power completely handed over the dominance of the meeting during this period to those members of the Privy Council who rarely have the opportunity to express their opinions on weekdays, and these little fishes who are each attached to a certain big man also heard that Knowing the elegant meaning of string songs, filling the schedule of the Privy Council with empty words and tiresome preaching.

The king's throne was empty, and this chair, which everyone was willing to sit on and experience, looked shockingly bland—ordinary black oak, with old cracks, and carved patterns that could no longer be seen in its original style.The person who was about to sit in this chair sat on the seat next to him, trying his best to hide his yawn.

The Bishop of Newcastle on the podium has been standing on the podium for almost an hour and a half. Compared with other speakers, his sentences are particularly dry and the content is particularly boring.From the pulpit the Bishop rants on the integrity of the clergy, on the depravity of the Church members in the House of Lords, their luxurious carriages and secret lovers, and his speech might have been more interesting if he hadn't been famous for his haunts. Contagious.

Edward felt that the shadow of the bishop in front of him turned into two, and soon turned into four.The bishop's voice buzzed in his ears like the sound of a swarm of flapping locusts appearing on the horizon.He put his hands on his forehead, trying his best to cover his eyes which could no longer be opened.

Suddenly the prince shuddered and opened his eyes - Robert Dudley standing behind him gently pinched his shoulder.Edward looked up to see the bishop bowing to him, having finally concluded his round of eloquence.

"Your words are very good, Your Excellency, we have benefited a lot." The prince nodded slightly.

There was a feeble echo from the crowd, and a sigh of relief—the torture was finally over.

"Who is going to speak next?" The prince turned to the clerk next to him.

"It's Lord Kingston," said the clerk, and there was another howl of disappointment from the crowd—this one was as boring as the last.

Like a monkey in a circus, Baron Kingston jumped onto the podium deftly.This shriveled little old man was not more than five feet tall, with a few thinning hairs hanging from a huge head out of proportion to his size.There were two huge moles growing on this gentleman's neck, so some mean people nicknamed him "Cerberus" after the watchdog of hell in ancient Greek mythology. The lady who looked much stronger got the nickname of "Hercules".

Baron Cerberus pulled out a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket, and as if by magic, he pulled out a stack of speeches, and the moaning in the room grew louder.Mr. Baron shook the speech on his hands deliberately, as if shaking a napkin at a banquet.This man's speeches have always been known for their passionate tone and extremely boring content. The audience watched him take a deep breath, as if the legendary dragon was about to breathe fire.

Suddenly the door of the hall was pushed open, and the baron on the podium was taken aback. As if someone had strangled his neck, his whole face flushed red, and he coughed violently, causing a burst of laughter.

It was a guard who broke in. He ignored the baron's angry gaze and walked straight up to the crown prince, "Your Highness, the king has woken up!"

The councilors who had been drowsy before suddenly woke up, and the voices mocking Baron Kingston stopped abruptly.All eyes were on the sweaty messenger.

Edward stood up abruptly and walked towards the gate. Behind him, other adults also stood up quickly and followed behind the prince.

……

At the request of Dr. Paganini, only members of the royal family and several important ministers were allowed to enter His Majesty's bedroom.When everyone with their own thoughts entered the room, they saw King Henry VIII on the bed coughing violently and vomited the decoction he had just drank all over the floor.

"Your Majesty." Led by the crown prince, everyone bowed to the king.

The king turned his head. His face was flushed, his forehead was covered with sweat, and he was obviously suffering from a high fever.He glanced briefly at the crowd, then turned his head to look at Dr. Paganini.

"Doctor, am I going to die?" There was no anger or fear in His Majesty's voice, but boundless tiredness.

Dr. Paganini's face was pale, and the expression on his face looked like that of a hare facing a falcon that was rushing from the sky.

The king closed his eyes slightly - there is no need to ask any more questions, the doctor's expression has already explained everything.After a while, the king's eyes opened again. "Go out." He stretched out his hand to his son, "You stay alone."

Everyone bowed solemnly and stepped back.Princess Mary seemed to hesitate for a moment, but she soon followed her stepmother and sister out of the room.

The house was quiet, the father and son looked at each other silently, and the burning pine logs were crackling in the fireplace in the corner of the room.

After half a minute, the king finally broke the silence, "I didn't expect it to be so soon." He carefully looked at his son's pale face, he looked thinner than before, and the black eyes were clearly visible.His hand clasped Edward's fingers, and the prince quickly turned his hands to hold the king's hand tightly. His Majesty's hand was as hot as coals.

"I'm going to die." Henry VIII sighed, "My son, are you ready?" The light in his eyes dimmed.

"Yes, father." The prince bowed his head and kissed the king's sweaty forehead, "I will do my best."

Henry VIII's face became brighter. He raised his arm with difficulty and stroked the prince's forehead. "When I was your age, I only knew how to play and hunt. Sometimes I hunted animals, and sometimes I hunted beautiful women." There was a smile on his face, as if recalling some pleasant memories, "It was still like this until I became a king. My grandmother took care of everything, and I was not the real king until she died..."

He coughed again, and the prince hastily handed him the cup on the bedside table.

His Majesty waved his hand in refusal, "This is the best seat in the world, except for God...you don't have to obey anyone, in fact you don't even have to listen to God if you want to. Soon you will no longer be a mortal , but some kind of demigod, something far above the world. Yet it is also a cursed chair, like those thrones on Olympus, the loneliest place. No more friends... No lover..." He grabbed the prince's arm. "Remember this, my son, all is illusion, all is nothing, but power is forever! Power is all. It is ours Skin, our flesh and blood, when the monarch loses power, he will only be left with a dry bone!" The flush on the king's face became more obvious, "No one can believe it, they are like a group of blood-sucking leeches, they are only for you The power in your hands, if you let them get too close, they will suck you up... Even your future wife is no exception. Even if there are still people who are honest with you now, when I die, they will It will reveal the true face... Don't be deceived by them! Remember, Edward!" He started coughing again, "Tell me you remember!"

The prince nodded quickly, "Yes, father, I will remember your words."

The king finally calmed down, and he pointed to the door, "Those people outside...you know what to do, I have taught you everything I can...they are a pack of wolves, but They don't know what kind of opponent they are facing..."

He smiled at Edward, His Majesty hadn't shown such a genuine smile for a long time.

"I have always hoped to have a son, a male heir to stabilize the dynasty... I have paid a huge price for you..." Your Majesty's voice trembled, "When you were just born, I always suspected that A frail and sickly child can inherit all this...but I no longer doubt it, you are much stronger than me, you are the most perfect heir that a monarch can hope for...I am proud of you..."

Edward felt tears streaming down his face. He half knelt on the ground and put his forehead in front of the king. The king raised his head with difficulty and kissed his forehead. "God bless you, my boy."

"I may not be a good husband or a good father, and I'm sorry if I did anything wrong to you."

The prince wiped the tears from his face. He looked at the king who was exhausted and tried his best to smile, "You are also the best father I can expect, Your Majesty."

The king sighed softly, "Thank you, my son."

The prince buried his head in the king's brocade quilt, weeping silently.

The king reached out and tugged at the bell rope that hung by his hand.A servant walked into the room, "Your Majesty, what are your orders?"

"Tell them all to come in." The king looked at his son again, "Don't cry, my boy, don't let those guys see, God doesn't cry for such things, don't let them treat you as Mortals treat."

Edward stood up and wiped away the tears on his face.

The king's wife, daughter, and important officials filed in. The dignitaries looked pleasing to the eye, but they still reminded Edward of the vultures waiting for the lion to die, hovering in the air and making disgusting cries.

The king looked at his lawyer, "Please publish my will."

The lawyer felt countless eyes gathered on him, including expectant eyes, apprehensive eyes, and curious eyes.He tried his best not to be disturbed by these gazes, took out a document from the bag with as calm a movement as possible, and tore off the sealant.

"The following is the will of His Majesty King Henry VIII." The lawyer began to read the document in his hand, "By the grace of God, Kings of England, Scotland, Ireland and France..."

The king interrupted impatiently, "Let's start with the substance."

The lawyer turned over the first page and began to read from the middle paragraph of the second page.

"After my death," the lawyer raised his eyes and glanced at His Majesty's expression quietly. The king seemed indifferent, and he settled down. "The throne shall go to my legal heir born to Queen Anne Boleyn, Edward Prince of Wales. Tudor succession, and thereafter by his legal heirs."

"If Edward dies without heirs, the throne will be inherited by the daughter born to me and Her Royal Highness Princess of Spain, Catherine of Aragon, Princess Mary."

Princess Mary's face turned pale slightly, she bit her lip tightly, and her nails scratched her palm.

"If Mary dies childless, the throne shall go to Princess Elizabeth, my daughter by Queen Anne Boleyn and myself."

"Should Elizabeth die childless, the throne shall go to my sister's daughter by the Duke of Suffolk, the Duchess of Suffolk, and thereafter by her daughter Jane Gray."

"After my death, the Earl of Hertford organizes a Council of Regents."

The Earl of Hertford quickly knelt on the ground.

"The Earl of Hertford was crowned Duke of Somerset with the title 'Lord Protector'."

"I thank Your Majesty for your trust." The newly-baked Duke of Somerset said with a sob, "I will not disappoint Your Majesty's expectations, and I will do my best for His Majesty the Crown Prince."

The king nodded slightly, "I hope you will remember what you said."

The lawyer then began to read, "The Council of Regents shall include Stephen Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester."

The bishop bowed to the king with relief.

"John Dudley, Earl of Essex; Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Edward Montagu..."

Those whose names were read thanked His Majesty's trust with tears of gratitude, while those whose names were not read could only suppress the bitterness in their hearts, so as not to lose their dignity in front of the imperial court.

"The council of regency shall end on the day of my death, on the 1550th of August, 8, when the new king will be fourteen years old."

The face of the new Lord Protector changed drastically. He knew that neither the old king nor the new king could tolerate him as regent until the new king was 21 or so, but he fully believed that his Lord Protector could be at least until Edward was 16 years old.He tried his best to control his emotions, but everyone could see his suddenly pale face and the slightly trembling corners of his mouth.The king smiled maliciously as he watched a crack in the face's perfect courtier's mask.

"The decision of the Regent Council shall be based on the majority opinion of the members participating in the meeting. During the regency, the monarch has the right to attend the Regency Council and has the right to veto the resolution of the Regency Council. In this case, the issue will be voted on by the Parliament."

The Lord Protector's face became more and more ugly with each sentence - everyone could see that he was just an attractive target set up by King Henry.Standing behind him, Bishop Gardner looked ten years younger, and the joy of seeing his political opponents in an embarrassing situation rejuvenated the bishop.

The king's will was finally read out, and he looked towards the crowd, "This is my arrangement."

The lawyer hurriedly put away the will again, and prepared to hand it over to the Minister of Seals for archiving.

Bishop Gardiner shouted loudly: "We will never betray His Majesty's trust!" He smiled and looked at Lord Protector.

The Duke Protector looked as if he had swallowed a fly alive. With a mechanical smile on his face, he was forced to agree: "It is my honor to have your Majesty's trust."

The king nodded, and looked at his wife again. His eyes looked blurred, and the high fever made His Majesty a little confused.

"Katherine...Katherine!" he called, holding out his hand.

The queen hurried forward, knelt by the bed, and held the king's hand, "Your Majesty, I am here."

"Tepienso, Tequiero, Tesue?o, Tenecesito. (Spanish: I miss you, I love you, I miss you, I need you.)" the king murmured.

"Your Majesty... what are you talking about?" The queen looked at the king in a daze, her mouth was slightly opened, looking a little funny.

"Your Majesty is speaking Spanish." A cold voice came from behind. Although the voice was not loud, the queen felt as if her body was being pierced by a sharp sword. She turned her head, and Princess Mary was looking down at her. The contemptuous gaze made her tremble, "Your Majesty is calling my mother's name." She walked around the queen and walked to the king's bed.

"Catherine, where are you?" the king called out loudly, his hands unconsciously scratching in the air, and he saw the face of Princess Mary appearing in front of him, "Catherine, you are finally here." He shouted joyfully .

Princess Mary caught the king's flailing arms and put them back on the bed.

"My mother is dead, Your Majesty." There was no anger or injustice in her voice, but it was as calm as a lake under the moonlight, as if discussing something irrelevant, "She died more than ten years ago."

The king struggled to look at the woman in front of him, the light in his eyes dimmed, "You and your mother... are really similar." He whispered.

Princess Mary didn't speak, just grabbed the edge of the mahogany bed.

"I..." The king looked at his eldest daughter who was a stranger to him, and wanted to say something, but he couldn't say a word, and just sighed slightly.

Tears welled up in the corners of Princess Mary's eyes. After hesitating for a few seconds, she finally knelt down and gently kissed the king's forehead.

"I'm sorry." She heard a small voice in her ear, like a breeze blowing by her ear.

Princess Mary trembled slightly.

"I forgive you," she said softly.

A relieved smile appeared on the king's face, and he held out a hand, and Princess Mary held it tightly this time without hesitation.

"And you, my child." The king looked at Princess Elizabeth again. "You are really beautiful, just like your mother." The king looked at the portrait of Anne Boleyn across the room. He looked at his daughter tenderly. "You are much luckier than your sister and brother...I wish you happiness forever..."

Princess Elizabeth burst into tears.The king held out his other hand, and Princess Elizabeth held out her hand to take it.

"Please come here too, my dear son." The king looked at his crown prince, "hold my hand."

The prince felt his eyes blur again, and he stepped forward to hold the same hand that Princess Elizabeth held the king, which was much colder than before.

"Draw the curtains, please," said the king, whose flushed face was rapidly turning pale.

The curtains were drawn, and a red sun was falling rapidly toward the horizon, and the light came in from the window, dyeing the bed curtains and quilts in the room dark red.

The king's hand holding his children gradually relaxed, and his face turned from gray to blue.The ruler of the British Isles had once been a sort of demigod, accompanied by angels in the sky; now he fell back down to earth and died a mortal.He looked at his son, and then at his daughters.Some kind of grunt came from His Majesty's throat, like the footsteps of death.The fat face gradually loosened, and then became like some kind of wax mask.

Dr. Paganini stepped forward and sniffed the king.He closed his eyes slightly and counted 20 seconds.

There was silence in the room, and the queen sobbed softly, but no one paid any attention to her.

Dr. Paganini withdrew his hand, turned around, and bowed deeply to the prince, "His Majesty Henry VIII is dead."

Princess Mary gently let go of the king's hand and placed it respectfully on Henry VIII's chest.She stood up, faced Edward, and performed a standard curtsy. "Long live His Majesty the King," she said loudly, bending down, and kissing Edward's hand.

The others in the room finally reacted, and they all turned to Edward.

"Long live King Edward VI!" I don't know who was the first to shout out this sentence, and immediately the room was filled with these words.

Edward looked a little dazed, he stared blankly at his sister, and then at the respectful crowd.He didn't speak, just nodded slightly.

The setting sun completely disappeared on the horizon, everything in the room dimmed, and finally turned into a group of shadowy shadows.Fine snowflakes fell from the sky, and the cold wind blew on the bare branches, making a sound like a woman's weeping.

The ceremonial officer, dressed in black, appeared on the balcony outside, holding a branch in his hand.

"King Henry VIII is dead! King Henry VIII is dead! King Henry VIII is dead!"

He proclaimed it three times in succession, and then broke the branch.

The ritual officer took another deep breath and shouted loudly:

"Long live King Edward VI!"