Chapter 33

Mary hadn't initially included Spain in her calculations.

In her previous life, she had chosen Spain as her primary option, hoping to marry into that great power, no less powerful than France, and become the crown princess again. Therefore, she had been patiently negotiating with Philip II.

These negotiations dragged on for two whole years without any results.

Later, Lord Darnley appeared in Scotland, and she fell madly in love with him within a few weeks, quickly marrying him. Her engagement to the Spanish man, which had never progressed, was naturally forgotten.

Unexpectedly, in this life, she was the first to express her desire to marry someone else, which instead provoked Spain, prompting their crown prince to come and visit them in person.

That's really...unexpected.

Mary rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

She can handle one suitor slowly, but what if there are three?

But since they've already come, how can we just turn them away?

...

Queen of Scots immediately ordered preparations for a grand banquet to welcome the Spanish Crown Prince and Duke of Ferrara the following day, and commanded the palace steward to quickly prepare the best and finest rooms for the Spanish guests.

A group of nearly a hundred people rode their horses all the way there. It was already late at night when they arrived. Their magnificent horses and carriages attracted a lot of onlookers in Edinburgh.

Being surrounded and pointed at by a group of farmers in dirty clothes is clearly not a pleasant experience.

A valiant servant on horseback lashed out at the farmers with his whip. Those who were struck quickly covered their eyes and fled. The remaining people also tacitly withdrew in a large circle, no longer daring to surround these distinguished guests from Spain.

(Compared to other royal palaces) the cramped Holyrood Palace was not easy to accommodate the large entourage of the Spanish Crown Prince. The palace steward and his servants hurriedly cleaned and arranged the room, but the guests still felt that it was not satisfactory.

As Mary sat in her bedroom, slowly combing her thick, glossy black hair, she could hear someone shouting and yelling in Spanish, clearly dissatisfied.

"You idiot, how dare you make us, His Highness Carlos's personal servants, squeeze several of us into one room? Don't you know we are all of noble birth? Or are you deliberately insulting us..."

Soon, the familiar voice of the old palace steward was heard again, apologizing humbly.

"I'm sorry, but all the rooms are already full. There aren't many rooms available in the palace. Some of our male and female servants are now having to squeeze more than a dozen people into one room..."

Inside Holyrood Palace, besides the nobles who came and went for short stays, there were nearly a hundred servants, including the palace steward, Catholic priests, court doctors, private secretaries, tailors, cooks, carpenters, and so on. Now, with the addition of the Duke of Ferrara's people, it was indeed very crowded.

The sounds were distant and muffled through the walls, but Mary still heard the Spanish curses and some attempts to dissuade her.

Mary frowned slightly, put down the comb in her hand, and was considering whether she should go out and resolve the dispute when Albert's voice rang out again. He seemed to have said something loudly, and then it became quiet outside again. After a while, Emma came over and said that the problem had been resolved.

Sitting in front of the dressing mirror, Mary turned around and asked, "How did Albert appease those Spaniards?"

"Our Apollo took those most vocal Spanish knights to the grassy area and gave them a beating... no, it shouldn't be called a beating. The civilized way to put it is that Mr. Dester sparred with those Spanish knights and successfully subdued them with his superior skills," Emma said, suppressing a laugh.

This is indeed something Albert could do.

Mary chuckled and said, “Well done. While it’s important to be warm and attentive to guests, I also hope they understand that this is Scotland, not Spain.”

"What about the servants' rooms?" Mary asked again.

“Mr. Dester sent the palace steward to the priest of the neighboring monastery, and had some of the less important servants settled there,” Emma said, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling.

...

At the banquet the following day, Mary formally met the Spanish crown prince, who was rumored to have a tyrannical personality.

Like Lord Darnley, he was a few years younger than the Queen of Scots and was still in his early adolescence. He was slender and pale, with the distinctive Habsburg long face and protruding jaw. His magnificent sable coat and gold and pearl buttons did not accentuate his noble bearing but instead made him look sickly.

Mary guessed that his poor health and ugly face were mainly due to incest. The dangers of consanguineous marriage were not yet understood in this era, and the Habsburg family had a habit of constantly marrying close relatives in order to maintain the purity of their bloodline. If she remembered correctly, Don Carlos had only four great-grandparents and six great-great-grandparents, which proved that their family continued to marry close relatives for several generations.

In addition, Mary noticed that during the meal, his fingers would suddenly twitch slightly, causing large pieces of swan meat to fall onto the table. Whenever this happened, Carlos's attendants would discreetly remove the swan meat with a handkerchief to ensure the table was clean and tidy, and that no one noticed the crown prince's embarrassment.

Mary picked up her golden goblet and took a sip of wine, while simultaneously asking in a low voice, "What happened to Prince Carlos's hand?"

Emma, ​​who had secretly inquired about the matter last night, replied to the Queen: "A drunk Spanish servant said that last year, their crown prince argued with his father and then fell down the stairs. There is also a version that he was pushed down by his father... He was seriously injured and only survived because a doctor named Andreas Vesalius punctured his skull."

Mary knew Andreas Vesalius; he was an exceptionally skilled doctor and one of the founders of human anatomy. Unfortunately, he was currently far away in Spain, otherwise she could have tried to recruit him.

Across the long table from Carlos sat Duke Alfonso II of Ferrara, a thirty-year-old handsome man with a tall and strong build. He moved with ease and spoke in a charming manner at the banquet. Just sitting there smiling and sipping his wine, he made the other two look like children.

At that moment, the Duke of Ferrara was telling some interesting stories about Italy while frequently glancing at Albert, seemingly surprised that he was there and could sit at the same table with the Queen of Scots like a confidant.

Alfonso II was married once to a member of the Medici family, but the poor woman died two years after their marriage without leaving a legitimate heir.

If Mary marries him, their children will inherit not only Scotland but also the enclave in Italy.

Mary said to Albert, who was standing next to her, "Your cousin is very handsome. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that the Duke of Ferrara's family all have such good looks."

In terms of looks alone, the Duke of Ferrara was less handsome than Albert. If the former were Daphne, a human, then the latter would be Apollo, the sun god playing the lyre.

Albert cut a piece of steak and put it in his mouth, saying in a low voice, "Actually, in this respect, we all inherited our grandmother's good looks."

Mary became interested and asked, "Who is your grandmother?"

“Lucrezia Borgia, Your Majesty, you should have heard of her,” Albert said.

Mary had certainly heard of, or rather, those with some knowledge knew of, the woman who, decades ago, was famous throughout Europe for her unparalleled beauty and her illicit affair with her brother.

She was the illegitimate daughter of Pope Alexander VI. As she grew up, she was married off repeatedly for the benefit of the Borgia family and her brother's ambition to unify Italy. In Italy at that time, people called her a femme fatale who poisoned her husbands after using their families. They even said that she had an incestuous relationship with her pope father.

The last husband of that beautiful woman with a legendary life was the Duke of Ferrara two years before her.

“I see,” Mary said, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

The last suitor, Lord Darnley, sat furthest from the Queen.

He lost the composure he had displayed in the previous days, constantly watching the actions of the other two suitors. He was pale and restless, as if his chair was riddled with nails, completely lacking the poise and grace expected of a nobleman.

Emma used the roses in the vase on the table and her sleeves to hide her expression, then mocked, "That poor little boy, who hasn't even crawled out from under his mother's skirt yet, will probably be rushing home to write again as soon as the party is over."

“What do you know?” Mary asked.

“He’s just an idiot with a head full of idiots. The reason he’s been behaving so well these days is all thanks to his mother, Countess Lennox, who’s been strategizing and teaching him how to please Your Majesty…” Emma said, “…But marrying him isn’t without its advantages. A little boy is easy to coax. You can just give him a little slap and he’ll do whatever you say.”

The banquet was far from peaceful. The three suitors were well aware of their mission and who their enemies were, so they constantly attacked each other with words. Of course, the nobles would not hurl insults like peasants on the street, but the sarcastic metaphors mixed with elegant language and the alternating use of French, English and Latin were enough to overwhelm an ordinary person.

Carlos, full of confidence, took the lead and didn't take the other two seriously at all. However, seeing that they dared to compete with him for his future wife, he felt displeased. He kept provoking the Duke of Ferrara by mentioning France's attack on Italy and Spain's crushing defeat of France. He also made a lot of comments about Lord Darnley's relatively low birth compared to them, and wondered why such a person would appear at the same table as a monarch and the future King of Spain.

Seeing that Lord Darnley's face had turned pale and he might drop his knife and fork and run out of the hall at any moment, or do something impolite to the Spanish Crown Prince, Mary had no choice but to put down her knife and fork and start to help Lord Darnley out of the predicament.

“This is a banquet I’m hosting, and my criteria for inviting guests have always been based on whether the person is exceptionally talented or of outstanding character. Birth background has never been a factor in my invitation decisions, and I believe this applies to any intelligent person as well,” Mary said.

Carlos, with a mocking expression, asked, "And which category does Lord Darnley fall into?"

In his opinion, this handsome young man didn't even qualify.

“Lord Darnley is a relative of mine, sharing a common ancestor. Our kinship is deep and touching, and he will always have a place at any banquet I host,” Mary said calmly.

Lord Darnley's expression softened, and he looked at the Queen of Scots with gratitude in his eyes.

“Alright…” Carlos raised his glass to Mary and said magnanimously, “...In that case, I will also reserve a place for Lord Darnley in Spain in the future.”

Mary also raised her glass, but simply smiled and did not respond to the Spanish Crown Prince's words.

"...Look at the proud look on the Spaniard's face. Has he already decided that His Majesty will marry him?"

Someone pursed their lips and muttered.