In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,14

at night until I was word perfect. Only then could I go to bed with the knowledge that I had earned my rest.

I was spending a great deal of time at my desk. I had always been a studious child and fond of learning, but I did want a chance to be out of doors, to train my goshawk, perhaps to play games with other children. I grew rather pale. I was already a little thin.

The Countess was worried. She had long conversations with my mother. “The Princess is but a child,” she said. “There is too much work and too little play.”

“She has to be trained for a great role,” explained my mother. “Johannes Ludovicus Vives is one of the greatest living scholars. We must keep to his rules or he will turn his back on us and go back to Spain.”

“Better that than the Princess's health should suffer.”

My mother began to worry about my health but she felt that Vives must not be offended.

The Countess was adamant. There were occasions when she remembered that she was a Plantagenet, and this was one of them. She declared that she would not be responsible for my health if the rules were not relaxed a little.

“It is true that the Princess must study,” she said, “but she is already beyond the standard expected of a princess of her age. There should be leisure in everyone's life, particularly for the young.”

She so thoroughly alarmed my mother that I did study less. Sometimes I think they were right to drive me, for although my health has at times been frail, I was always able to enjoy the company of some of the wisest men in the kingdom, which must have been due to my excellent education.

When the question of my being overstrained was brought to the notice of Vives, he pointed out that the daughters of Sir Thomas More were examples of educated women, and they could be regarded as a lesson to all. Sir Thomas's daughter Margaret was the most highly educated woman of the time and she was in good health. When I learned something of the More household, I realized that in such a happy family, which was full of fun and laughter, learning had been something to be enjoyed; and Sir Thomas would never force his children to do what they did not wish to. It was not that I did not want to learn. I did. It was just that I was often so tired and in danger of falling asleep at my desk.

All the time I thought of the Emperor Charles. I built up a picture of a hero in my mind. My mother, the Countess and all the women of the household constantly told me how much I loved my future husband. He was always in my thoughts. When I read my books, when I translated my Latin passages, I thought of him and how proud he would be of me.

THIS STATE OF AFFAIRS continued for two years, until I was nine years old. It was the year 1526—an eventful one for me because, I suppose, during it I grew up. I ceased to be an innocent child, for many things were revealed to me.

I had been vaguely aware that a great deal had been happening in Europe during that time. I had known that my father and my beloved Emperor were friends and allies and that we were at war with that wicked man of Europe whose evil schemes the heroes were determined to suppress. That was François Premier.

One day I saw my mother in a state of great excitement. It was good news, she told me. The war would soon be over. François, attempting to take Pavia, had been captured and was now the Emperor's prisoner in Madrid.

It was wonderful. It was good triumphing over evil, which I believed to be always the case in the end.

“Your father and the Emperor will now jointly invade France, and between them they will share that land.”

I listened, starry-eyed.

The Cardinal came to see me. I was not sure that I liked him. He was always rather unctuous but at the same time giving an impression that it would be unwise to cross him.

He kissed my hand with reverence and asked after my health. Then he told me he had brought something to show me. He opened a case and in it was a magnificent emerald ring.

“It is very beautiful,” I said.

“His Grace, your father, and I believe