The Chambers of the Emperor at the Court of England

*A gleeful Franco-Scottish Ambassador takes notes of all these proceedings. His mistress family is allied with Felipe of Spain, his mistress herself is friendly with the Empress and she is currently negotiation a marriage with the Infanta of Spain. He takes great pains to hide his smile*.

Yes, I agree- leave it to them to discuss. We have far more important matters. Like breakfast.
Once Their Majesties have calmed themselves, though, I plan to speak to my father about his promise of lands for me. I have an idea to request the Low Countries. What think you?

Charles V wrote:

None other than what you think and what you would have me do.. The truth.

She sighs, hanging her head.

- I think I let my emotions run a bit high back there.

Looking him in the eye;

- I'm sorry, Charles. But I do not know what you should do. Maybe I should start playing my part as wife rather than ruler. I would see myself far better suited.

*meanwhile Elizabeth and Juan make their way towards their own royal apartments where a sumptuous breakfast awaits. On the way, Elizabeth doth ask Juan's advice and thoughts on lands, for he is well travelled and knowledgable of his father's empire. Expanding into other territories ist not something she has a taste for and as such would wish that Juan chooses the territories which best suit his own aims and wishes. Her own wish is but that the peoples of whatever land he chooses can be responsibly governed at such a distance.*

*Lord Burghley (William Cecil, the Queen's chief advisor) attends them over breakfast, anxious to congratulate the Queen he sees almost as a daughter in the marriage he had long hoped to see her in. He advises the couple and agrees with the Queen that Isabella's distatste for the situation canst be well used. Though tis not yet wise to proceed in alerting the realm and wider Europe to the marriage without assistance from the Emperor, Cecil goes to make sure that whispers wilt be spread through the realm that Isabella looks unkindly on the planned match of England's Queen with her son Philip of Spain's half brother*

(OOC: apologies Isabella, but it is the Queen's way to attempt to forge peace and friendship with all... and when that does not come easily, to fast turn the situation to her best advantage)

(OOC: No! I'm really looking forward to this next storyline you have brewing, looks exciting)

Isabella, slightly skeptical of Elizabeth's easy exit, assumes something isn't quite right. This what the legendary Queen of England she was talking about, who fought off Spain with an iron first. Surely she wouldn't just back down from something so insulting to her, and her state?

My dear, I would ask you to in fact do the opposite- look on this manner with the heart of a ruler, not a wife. With it, we ally the lands of the Habsburgs with those of the Tudors. And we do not have to marry an Infante or Archduke to a Protestant! The heirs of England will be tied to those of Spain, Portugal, the Empire... our circle around France is strengthened, our allies more numerous!

Isabella, her mind focused on England and it's Queen, isn't really interested in what Charles has to say.

- Yes, alright, I see.

She sighs half heartedly.

And yet, you are still troubled.

- Like I said, I don't know what to say.

Then we are at an impasse and I have no other choice but to concede.

(ooc- there is a post for you in the France section)

- Concede to what, husband?

(OOC: Okay.)

That you cannot, or will not, tell me what you are thinking.

- Women must have their secrets, husband, or we would not be so.

Oh, I suppose you are right.

- Yes, now before we were so rudely interrupted...

Isabella stares at the door, and thinks back to the conversation previously taking place.

Quite rude indeed. But- Valencia. What think you of dispatching Infanta Juana there, to see what she can do? She could meet with Duke Francisco Borgia when she arrives. Surely the two can work something out.

- Perfecto!

Isabella, with a slightly shift look upon her face, shuffles into the chamber.

*looks up, quizzicly*
Yes, my light?

- I hath something to tell you.

*cocks an eyebrow*
Well then- sit, and tell!

Isabella chooses the furthest seat in the small, poky room and sits upon it - avoiding all eye contact.

- I hath taken it upon myself to sign a treaty with the Queen of Scotland.

*gets up and moves closer to his wife*
Did you? Of what nature?