Whenever she saw him he was aware of her; he smiled at her possessively but she fancied there was that in his eyes which demanded gratitude. She was grateful, for she knew that by being kind to her he went against his father’s wishes; but common sense told her that even the Prince of Wales must know that he would marry her only if some other irresistible project did not turn up. She had heard it whispered that Eleanor of Castile was being suggested for him.

The only consolation was that she would know soon.

Then came the terrible news from Spain. Philip and Juana had arrived in Castile where the Cortes had accepted Juana as the Queen; Philip was given the rank only of consort, which would not please him. In vain had he protested that Juana was mad; the people of Castile accepted her as the daughter of the great Queen Isabella, their true Queen. Philip had to realize, Archduke of Austria that he was, that he was only the consort of the Queen of Castile.

There was another menacing figure in the background too. That was Ferdinand. Henry had often smiled to himself as he contemplated his old enemy. How did Ferdinand feel—he who, through Isabella, had been King of Castile, and now found himself only King of Aragon?

Philip undoubtedly had his enemies, and tragedy struck him at Burgos. No one was quite sure how it happened, but it was believed that it started at a ball game—at which Philip excelled. Being hot from the game, he called for refreshment and drank very deeply from the cup which was brought to him. Soon afterward he began to feel ill, and when people asked each other who had brought that cup to him, no one could remember. Philip was very ill and remained so for some days. Juana herself had nursed him. Katharine heard that she had changed during that time of sickness. Intense as her anxiety was, yet she grew calm and nursed Philip night and day allowing none but herself to supervise the preparation of his food. In spite of her care, one morning she discovered black spots on his body and during that day he died.

They said he had died of a fever but everyone suspected poison. The matter was not investigated very thoroughly because it was remembered that Ferdinand’s envoy had been in Burgos at that time; and with Philip dead, Charles a child, and Juana mad, Ferdinand would become Regent of Castile.

King Henry was astounded by the news. The Prince of Wales shed tears. Philip had been so young, so handsome, so vital, that it was impossible to think of him dead . . . and almost certainly by poisoning. Young Henry wanted to go to Burgos to sift the matter, to find the murderer and inflict terrible tortures on him. “He was my friend,” he said. “We loved each other.”

Charles Brandon was a little cynical, but he did not voice his thoughts. People were beginning to be careful what they said to the Prince.

The King was thinking: that schemer Ferdinand will be in control now. And he wondered what would happen about those plans he had discussed with Philip during his enforced stay in England. What of the bonds of friendship; what of the marriage with Archduchess Margaret?

He was soon to hear that Margaret did not wish to marry the ageing King of England, and he was sure that the proposed marriage between Eleanor of Castile and young Henry would be pushed aside now that Ferdinand would be in control.

What had come out of all the lavish entertainments given to Philip? Henry groaned at the thought of the cost. And what had been gained? He had spent so much time, energy and above all money cultivating the friendship of a man who had died before the year was out.

It seemed that all the good that had come out of that visit was the return of Edmund de la Pole, who was now the King’s prisoner in the Tower.

The King was feeling very weary. His rheumatism was worse; his skin was turning yellow; and he felt ill for a great part of the time.