Plans were in motion. The Emissary reported to Her Highness, Catherine de ’Medici. She was desperate for his assurances and wanted all the details again. This was a risky plan, this man proposed. If her deceit was discovered, it might mean the end of not just her marriage — but her life!
He had arrived so suddenly and fortuitously. The Emissary hailed from the Royal Court of Emperor Charles V, who ruled the fiefdoms that united under the Burgundian Netherlands. He carried all the proper credentials and had been welcomed by her husband, the future King Henry II.
He had gained Catherine’s trust rather quickly. Her health had been so poor and the stress of her inability to produce an heir caused the most excruciating headaches. These headaches would force her to take to her bed for days. He had offered to help with these outrageous disruptions to her life and desperate, she had accepted.
Laying his hands on her heart and forehead, she could feel his hands grow warm and tingling. The faint but undeniable charge pulsing through her body extinguished the headache, as water on a flame. It was miraculous and she was so grateful for his healing remedy. This man was enigmatic; he seemed to know intuitively about every aspect of her life. She understood, all too well, that as a member of the royal family her life was subject to rumor. But this man pinpointed so directly the heart of her stress and unhappiness that she was left want of an explanation for his clarity.
In her quest for conception, she resorted to tarot cards, charms and alchemy and when that failed, the Royal Physicians had worked tirelessly to offer a remedy for her barren state. She drank the urine of pregnant animals and teas made from dried and powdered sexual organs of boars and stags. What she had endured in the pursuit of a child was humiliating. The endless variety of remedies, designed in desperation by her physicians, took a toll on her general well-being. In addition to the agonizing headaches that plagued her, the teas and concoctions made her so physically ill that she could barely rise from her bed.
When he came to her with his outrageous plan to pass off another woman’s child as her very own, she was desperate enough to see it as the miracle for which she had waited.
While the Emissary told her nothing of great detail about the source of this child, he did assure her that the baby was of noble lineage and bloodline. He kept the details of the plot to himself, but told her only that a nun would be bringing her the child and that in return, she should be engaged as Lady-in-Waiting. The lure of a solution to her fertility problem was certainly tantalizing. But how was she to fool the entourage which made up her staff of physicians, and attendants?
Her savior seemed to have an answer to each and every question that Catherine posed. Her physicians would be informed that their remedies had been successful and that she was, indeed, with child. As she had already granted her trust to the Emissary, he would explain to the others that she had deemed him her personal physician. The physicians and her attendees knew very well how important this pregnancy and the successful production of an heir was to both Catherine and, in turn, the entire Court.
Confronting her physicians, he had told them she had only wanted the Emissary in attendance, so fearful was she of losing this baby. But he assured them that they, the Royal Physicians would certainly get accolades for their accomplishment. They accepted his explanation, secretly thankful that they would not be held responsible should this pregnancy fail. The physicians and her attendees, willingly kept a great distance from Catherine’s bedroom, fearing her wrath.
For many months now, the Queen and her Emissary had played the charade to the fullest. Bedridden and locked in her room, Catherine made sure all at the palace believed her to be in the full throes of a healthy pregnancy. The staff accepted this explanation and, for once, believed Catherine may have good reason to be sour and of poor disposition. Superstition and fear of a terminated pregnancy kept her separate from the rest of the house.
With only a couple of months left to play out their pregnancy charade, the Emissary visited Dafne and the Abbot in order to ensure their final part in destiny.
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The destiny that another Gatekeeper, the old man so many years ago in Tuscany, had set in motion was now ready to be played out. He had ensured that Dafne was sent to the convent. And she had walked the path set for her admirably.
Now this Gatekeeper, playing his role as Emissary, stepped in and had worked quickly to gain the Queen’s trust. The next part would be up to Dafne who, once she had informed the Inquisitor of Dominique’s indiscretions, would be almost finished with her role in the Universe’s grand plan.
There are thousands of threads that make up a tapestry. Each one of those threads must be interwoven in just the right pattern to produce the perfect larger picture.