We Call a Rose
What If Prince Edmund Tudor, Duke of Somerset survives past infancy
Written by Austin L. Ross
****
Nantes, Brittany
In the grand hallowed halls of the Chateau des ducs de Bretagne lay a man by the virtue of his blood that could potentially leave the realm of the subjugated Bretons, in order to ascend to one of the most influential thrones in all of Christendom. From its appearance, the residency of the Duke of Brittany, the castle stands as an austere fortress, with a sentry walk 500 metres long punctuated by seven towers set into its curtain walls.
The young Duke, who inherited this immense structure by virtue of marriage, knew of the proud history of the urban stronghold in which he lived. The Chateau was built almost a full two decades before his own birth by Duke Francis II and his daughter…the young Duke’s mother-in-law, Anne of Brittany, to defend the independence of the Duchy of Brittany, then under threat from the Kingdom of France. The castle's inner courtyard revealed a ducal palace built of tufa stone which was common for the grand dynastic houses of Europe. Upon it’s first glance, the ensemble is remarkable for its striking whiteness, its elegance and its fine stone carvings, in sharp contrast with the rough exterior walls.
It was in the Chateau, that the young Duke while sitting on the throne with his wife, Duchess Claude of Brittany was rudely interrupted in his studies, by a visitor drenched by this particular weeks steady rain. The Duke, favoring every bit that of his grandfather and namesake, The 1st Earl of Richmond, with his unassuming face and shoulder length auburn tresses.
“I beg for an audience with his majesties the Duke and Duchess of Brittany and Somerset.” The visitor said in a hurried breath and muffled under a thick beard, yet still crisp from years of mastering the King’s English.
“You may speak sir, what in the devil has happened?” The Duke asked, as he laid the book in which he was reading down firmly on his lap.
“It is the King your highness…” The Englishman trailed off as a look of sorrow filled the deep wrinkled lines of his face.
“My God, is it our Henri?” Claude, the softspoken Duchess inquired.
“No your majesty the Dauphin continues to radiate at court with his brilliance. No your majesty, this unfortunate news relates to that of your brother.” The Englishman sighed, and focused his eyes on the duke
“Henry, has there been some sort of accident?” The young Duke responded
“Worse your majesty, as you know The King has been racked with distress over his great matter, which grew worse after the events that took place at the Black Friars Convent this month. It appears that in one of his fits of rage, the King may have pushed his body to the brink of death.” The Englishman stated.
“My god, how are you going to stand there an utter such nonsense.” The Duke roared back in defiance, while attempting the fight back the tears as he knew in his heart that his countryman’s words were of the truth.
“It burdens your heart that I, Charles Brandon 1st Duke of Suffolk, by Act of Parliament present to you, the fore mentioned Duke of Brittany and Somerset…the crown of our realm. From this point forward, you shall be known as Edmund the First, by the Grace of God, King of England and France and Lord of Ireland…God save the King!”
What If Prince Edmund Tudor, Duke of Somerset survives past infancy
Written by Austin L. Ross
****
Nantes, Brittany
In the grand hallowed halls of the Chateau des ducs de Bretagne lay a man by the virtue of his blood that could potentially leave the realm of the subjugated Bretons, in order to ascend to one of the most influential thrones in all of Christendom. From its appearance, the residency of the Duke of Brittany, the castle stands as an austere fortress, with a sentry walk 500 metres long punctuated by seven towers set into its curtain walls.
The young Duke, who inherited this immense structure by virtue of marriage, knew of the proud history of the urban stronghold in which he lived. The Chateau was built almost a full two decades before his own birth by Duke Francis II and his daughter…the young Duke’s mother-in-law, Anne of Brittany, to defend the independence of the Duchy of Brittany, then under threat from the Kingdom of France. The castle's inner courtyard revealed a ducal palace built of tufa stone which was common for the grand dynastic houses of Europe. Upon it’s first glance, the ensemble is remarkable for its striking whiteness, its elegance and its fine stone carvings, in sharp contrast with the rough exterior walls.
It was in the Chateau, that the young Duke while sitting on the throne with his wife, Duchess Claude of Brittany was rudely interrupted in his studies, by a visitor drenched by this particular weeks steady rain. The Duke, favoring every bit that of his grandfather and namesake, The 1st Earl of Richmond, with his unassuming face and shoulder length auburn tresses.
“I beg for an audience with his majesties the Duke and Duchess of Brittany and Somerset.” The visitor said in a hurried breath and muffled under a thick beard, yet still crisp from years of mastering the King’s English.
“You may speak sir, what in the devil has happened?” The Duke asked, as he laid the book in which he was reading down firmly on his lap.
“It is the King your highness…” The Englishman trailed off as a look of sorrow filled the deep wrinkled lines of his face.
“My God, is it our Henri?” Claude, the softspoken Duchess inquired.
“No your majesty the Dauphin continues to radiate at court with his brilliance. No your majesty, this unfortunate news relates to that of your brother.” The Englishman sighed, and focused his eyes on the duke
“Henry, has there been some sort of accident?” The young Duke responded
“Worse your majesty, as you know The King has been racked with distress over his great matter, which grew worse after the events that took place at the Black Friars Convent this month. It appears that in one of his fits of rage, the King may have pushed his body to the brink of death.” The Englishman stated.
“My god, how are you going to stand there an utter such nonsense.” The Duke roared back in defiance, while attempting the fight back the tears as he knew in his heart that his countryman’s words were of the truth.
“It burdens your heart that I, Charles Brandon 1st Duke of Suffolk, by Act of Parliament present to you, the fore mentioned Duke of Brittany and Somerset…the crown of our realm. From this point forward, you shall be known as Edmund the First, by the Grace of God, King of England and France and Lord of Ireland…God save the King!”