Chapter Eighteen

P hilip stood on the steps of the cathedral and studied the crowd. Congratulatory cheers for his wife rang out with the cathedral bells. The smiles, the petals fluttering in the air, the clapping, it wasn't for him… He was only consort. It was all for his wife.

Joanna clutched his hand and waved, her chin tipped regally and her eyes aglow with emotion.

He copied her and waved, though with less enthusiasm. He needed to fix this situation, and the sooner, the better. He was a Habsburg. He didn't lose. He didn't bow down to a Spanish king who was being stingy about bestowing on him what was rightfully his.

"Come, come." The queen gestured to the carriage. "Our feast awaits, as do our guests."

Noblemen and their wives, generals, priests, and scholars had all been invited back to the castle so the festivities could get underway. Queen Isabella was keen to show off her hosting skills.

Already, Philip's cheeks ached with the fake smiling. How would he get through the rest of the day?

Joanna glided down the steps, pink, yellow, and purple flowers landing in her path—it was as though she were walking in a spring meadow.

"My people," she called. "I thank you and promise to always serve you well."

More cheers went up as she climbed into a waiting carriage.

He climbed in next to her.

"My goodness." She gasped. "I hadn't ever imagined such a large crowd."

"You are their princess and they have not seen you for many years."

"To be truthful, they didn't see much of me before I left to marry you. My parents weren't fond of parading us in public."

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

"What is it?" She clasped his hand, then rocked back slightly when the carriage began to move.

"Nothing."

"It is not nothing. I can tell by the set of your jaw."

"I am trying to hide my feelings."

"Not quite as well as you think—to me, at least. I know you well, remember."

He sighed. "In which case you know what it is?"

"You are not prince." She paused. "But you will be soon. Can't you just try to be happy with what we have? On this one day? For our hearts beat as one, our minds think as one, and we can rule as one."

"I wish it were that simple."

"Oh, Philip." She leaned across and kissed his cheek. "You are so serious all the time."

"Not our prince! Not our prince!" A shout came from outside.

Philip tensed.

"Traitor from hell!"

"Get out of our country."

"Do not pay those men any heed," Joanna said quickly.

Philip's heart squeezed in anger and his skin prickled. He had to force himself not to burst from the carriage and push his fist into the men's mouths to shut them up.

"Please, hurry!" Joanna called forward. "Do not linger here, driver."

"They would stab a dagger into me, given the chance." Philip scowled. "They have no respect for me and won't until I have my rightful position. How can I be expected to rule this country?"

"It will be yours to rule soon enough."

The carriage gained speed.

"And until then, do not think of it," Joanna went on. "Twelve boars have been roasted in our honor. The banqueting table will be heavy with all of your favorite food and wine. Music will play and we will sing and dance and look forward to the birth of our second son."

He pressed his hand to her belly. "We need a second son. If something happens to Charles, we will only have daughters."

"I will give you a son, my love, I promise." She kissed his cheek. "Think of that and how proud you will be to report the news to your father."

*

The feasting went on late into the night, as Joanna had predicted. And when the milky light of dawn spread over the terrace, Philip found himself sipping wine with the king.

This was his chance. He had to take the reins and he knew exactly how to do it. People wouldn't be pleased, would likely buck and rear in complaint. But that was tough. He had a family name to protect.

"I hear," Philip said, his voice soft amongst the first bird song, "that Granada is under threat."

Ferdinand sat back and crossed his legs, taking a sip from a golden goblet. His posture was relaxed. He'd likely have fallen asleep had Philip not been there.

"You defeated the Moors," Philip said, "a great and skilled victory."

"I thank you for the compliment." Ferdinand nodded slowly.

"Proof of the growing superiority of your kingdom."

Ferdinand said nothing, though his eyes sparkled, as though curious as to what Philip was going to say next.

"Tell me, what do you propose to do about Granada?"

"Tell you? Why would I tell you ?"

Philip was shocked by Ferdinand's snappish response. "I am your son by marriage, Don Philip of Girona. One day, I will be king beside Joanna."

Ferdinand said nothing and looked out at the horizon. His features were set, as though they'd been chiseled from marble. The sleepiness had lifted.

"Surely, we should discuss our military plans to defeat France," Philip said, leaning forward and holding out his hand. "Together. As one. I could be of assistance."

"As one?" Ferdinand frowned. "Are you not as one with King Louis?"

"As one with King Louis?" Philip pressed his hand to his chest. "I… No… I am not. I am most definitely not as one with King Louis."

"But it is true he is your friend."

Philip hesitated, then said, "I cannot deny we have an acquaintance."

"Exactly, so why in heaven's glorious name would I discuss anything with you that might be passed on to him and put us…Spain…at a disadvantage?"

Philip sat up straight, the words like a slap to his face. Did his new father really distrust him so? It seemed he did. But perhaps he could still work out a way around this. Use his friendship with Louis to his advantage.

"France is gaining in Naples and has ideas about Granada, I know this much," Philip said.

Ferdinand grunted.

"You are a wise and experienced man," Philip went on.

"You flatter me." Ferdinand raised his eyebrows.

"I speak the truth because I know that you will want to send me, as your negotiator, to France. Louis will listen to me. I can come to an arrangement to end the war in Italy and make him retreat plans for Granada."

"Huh, I doubt that."

"You should have faith. I might be young, but I have Habsburg blood and a cunning mind. This has allowed me to run my own state for many years now. The people of the Low Countries and Flanders and Burgundy thrive. Their taxes are low and their country is not at war because it is protected by solid treaties and strong borders."

"It is protected by your father."

"Who has not stepped foot over the borders for many years." Philip shook his head. "No, it thrives because of my decisions. It thrives because I keep enemies close so I can predict their next move." He spun his finger at his temple. "So I can know how they think, what they want, what they fear."

"Mmm." Ferdinand watched five swans fly overhead in a perfect ‘V.'

Philip got the sense he was thinking about his proposal.

"Trust me, I'll give you my word on the Holy Bible I have Spain's interest at heart. Let me prove that to you." He stood and reached for the decanter of wine, filling up both of their goblets. "I love this country as if it were my own because it is my wife's country. My new family's country."

"You have the gift of talking sweetly," Ferdinand said, studying him. "It is true—and a beguiling face to go with it."

"So let me talk with sugarcoated words on your behalf. Let me go and negotiate with Louis, act as mediator. I swear I won't let you down. I understand him and his ways."

The king was quiet for several long, drawn-out seconds, then, "When will you leave?"

Philip had to stop himself from punching the air with triumph. "As soon as possible."

"Joanna will not be pleased."

"She must busy herself with delivering the next heir to Spain while I busy myself with matters of governing. For that is man's work."

Ferdinand nodded slowly.

"It is a very wise and considered move of yours," Philip said, snatching at the gesture of agreement. "And I thank you for the opportunity." He held up his goblet then clinked it against Ferdinand's. "Do not fear. I will deliver the best for you and for the future generations." He spoke with conviction and earnest because that was his promise. He would make deals and sign contracts and ensure his sons, and Ferdinand's grandsons, would get the maximum benefit out of any negotiations with France.

*

"What?" Joanna screamed. "No, you cannot leave me! Not now. Not like this."

"My love." Philip glanced at the closed bedchamber door. "Please, do not fret so. It is not good for you or the baby. You must stay calm and restful."

"How can I be calm and restful without you? How can I? I need you with me."

"My love…"

She slammed her hands onto his chest, her small fists delivering quite the blow. "I forbid it. I refuse to grant you permission to leave me."

"You cannot do that." He grasped her wrists to stop the pounding. "Your father, the king, has set me the task of mediating."

"My father." She glared at the door. "I will go and speak with him, make him retract his instruction. Has he no sense?" She made a strange, low growling sound.

"He has plenty of sense, Joanna." Philip had never seen her so incensed. He knew she'd be agitated—angry, even—about him leaving for France, but this reaction was extreme. He could only blame her delicate condition and presume it had addled her mind. "I am to go and negotiate with Louis. I am honored your father has seen fit for me to carry out this important mission. I hope to prove to him that I am worthy of the title of prince."

"Of course you're worthy." She tipped her head back and stared up at him. "I will make you prince."

"You can't, not yet." He released her wrists and cupped her pretty, though flushed, face. "You know that."

"What I know is that I can't be parted from you, Philip, my love. You are the reason I breathe each morning, the reason my heart beats, the reason I put food in my mouth."

"And you are my reason also…for those things." He kissed her brow. "Please, calm yourself."

"I will come with you." She pulled back with her jaw set determinedly. "Yes. That is the answer. I will journey with you to France. I have been before. Nothing has changed."

" Everything has changed. You are an heir now, an heir with child. And I am sure a son sits in your belly. It is too dangerous."

"Do not tell me what is too dangerous for me and my son."

"I am the only person who can tell you." He caught her around the waist and pulled her near. "For it is my flesh and blood that grows in you. You must wait here. I will not stand for anything else. You must wait here until the baby is born."

" You will not stand for it." The volume of her voice climbed a few notches. " You will not stand for it, yet I have to stand for you leaving. Leaving me here… I cannot bear to be alone."

"Joanna." He pulled her into a tighter embrace and tucked her head beneath his chin. "This is the cross we must bear as monarchs. We must go onward, bearing our hardships, which in this case is to be apart."

"Do not throw piety at me now. It is that last thing I can cope with, what with my mother…"

"Your mother?"

"She is still sending out word to her new territories, to interrogate everyone and seek out non-Catholics, burn them, torture them, kill them… It is too much, this ongoing brutal inquisition of those poor people." She covered her face.

He stared at her. He'd heard rumors, rumblings, but was this really what Isabella was doing? He shook his head. He had his own problems at hand. "I have to go, and I will leave within the hour."

"No!"

"The sooner I go, the sooner I will return." He turned and walked to the door.

When he reached it he felt her behind him, her small frame pressing into his. "I beg you, don't go. I need you here, with me. I will die without you. Our baby will die without you."

"Joanna." He turned, his heart aching. "I have to go. I have to."

"You do not."

"I do. So wait, wait here in safety with our new son."

"I wish I were not pregnant." She pouted up at him. "Then I could come with you."

"Please, my love, do not say that. It is God's blessing that we have another child on our horizon."

"You will not be able to stand it without me," she said, holding his face between her palms and squeezing his cheeks. "You will grieve as though I am dead if I am not at your side."

"It is true, I will miss you."

"You will miss my face, my voice, my body." She slid her hands downward, over his tunic, past his chest, his abdomen, and settled her fingers on the waistband of his breeches.

"Joanna?"

"You will miss how I do this?" A flash of darkness crossed her eyes. It was mixed with lust and excitement and tinged with a hint of madness.

He frowned and shook his head. "I must go."

"No, I will make you want to stay with me…now." She folded to her knees before him, her gown puffing outward. "This is where you need to be. With me."

"What are you…?"

She peeled his breeches down and slipped her hand through the material to find his cock.

He wasn't hard, but the moment her sweet and clever, little fingers surrounded his length, blood rushed to his groin and his erection swelled. She'd always had that effect on him. She was like the apple grown in Eden; her honeyed skin and flowery taste had become addictive. His body always responded to hers in an instant.

"My love," he said, looking down at her and locking his knees. "You… I need to go and… I need to…"

"You need to let me show you how much I love you, every inch of you." She pulled his erection free, then slowly, so slowly, poked out the point of her tongue and licked the tip.

"In the name of the Holy…" He swallowed tightly. The sight of her kneeling submissively before him, her dainty hand around his thickness and her pink tongue stroking his glans had his balls tightening in anticipation.

"Philip," she murmured. "You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"No… No, I'm not…" he managed as she opened her mouth and took his cock between her lips. "Not at the moment." He groaned at the hot warmth that surrounded him, and when she made her lips taut and sank down his length, taking him onto the softness of her tongue, he dropped his head back to the door and groaned long and indulgently.

Had anything ever felt so good?

She cupped his balls and rolled them gently, then sucked back up his cock. The coolness of air on his saliva-coated length sent a tremble through his belly. "My love, you have never…done this to me before and…"

She didn't answer. Instead, she sank back onto him.

The sensation was a potent mixture of darkness and bliss and he speared his fingers into her hair to hold her firm. "Oh, yes…" he managed in a low growl. "Like that."

She sucked up, taking her time, as if savoring him. Then she repeated the action, dipping low again.

Clenching his buttocks, he curled his toes in his boots. He closed his eyes and allowed her to hold him hostage in the sweetest, most sinful restraint he could imagine.

More blood rushed to his cock. He groaned. He was so hard, and each time she drew him deep, he could feel the back of her throat on his tip. Soft and hot, it made the release that was threatening nudge a little closer.

"Don't stop…" He gasped, filling his fingers up with her hair, tugging on the roots but unable to stop himself.

This seemed to spur her on and she picked up the speed, tightening her lips around him. She used her hand too, stroking his wet cock when she pulled back.

His balls were so tight, they ached, yet still, she fondled them. It was that which tipped him over the edge and he reached the point of no return.

"Joanna!" he cried. "I'm going to…"

In the name of the Lord, he was going to fill her mouth with his seed. He was going to release down her throat if she didn't heed his warning. Surely, she could feel and hear how close he was.

"Oh…in all the…ah…" Pleasure burst from him, throbbing through his cock in short, sharp pulses that gave him the most delicious satisfaction he could imagine.

And with each pulse, she swallowed, taking him into her body in a new way.

That thought added to his excitement and he swung his hips forward, claiming her mouth and grasping her hair. He tipped back his head and let an uninhibited groan rip from his chest. With it seemed to go all of his frustrations and worries. His wife was incredible.

Suddenly, he realized how firmly he was gripping her and how deep his cock was in her throat.

"My love." He pulled out and dropped to his knees before her. He held her face.

She was breathing fast. Her cheeks were red and her rosebud lips puffy.

She stared at him with glazed eyes. "I told you…you'd want to stay."

"Of course I want to stay." He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her deeply, tasting the salty tang of himself.

She melted against him, clinging to him as if her life depended upon it. Her need for him to be at her side at all times was a heavy weight. One he didn't mind burdening—oh, no—but right now, he had to go and secure their children's future. This was his one chance.

"Come, my love," he said. "Let us lie on the bed. I fear you have exerted myself."

"I am perfectly fine." She allowed him to steer her to the bed. "And how can it be considered exerting myself when I am just serving my husband."

"Serving me?" He chuckled and pulled her onto the bed with him. He wrapped her in his arms. "Is that what you call what you just did to me?"

"I am sure one of your young courtier tutors—"

"No, never." He kissed the top of her head. "And I'm glad you were the first to."

"And last."

"And last, but not for the last time, I hope."

"No, not the last time." She looked up at him, her eyelashes fluttering. "If you stay, I can do that every day for you, twice a day if you wish."

He smiled. "That is indeed a tempting offer."

He felt her relaxing, the tension slipping from her slender shoulders. "Sleep now," he said. "My beautiful wife, sleep now."