Jane Grey dreamt of Whitehaven.
In her sleep, she walked through the experimental gardens where glass houses protected delicate plants from winter's bite. The air smelled of rich earth and green growing things despite February's chill beyond the transparent walls. Bobby walked beside her, pointing out specimens with names she couldn't quite catch—strange, beautiful flowers with properties he described in that animated way that transformed his typically sardonic expression into something approaching genuine wonder.
"This one," he was saying, kneeling beside a plant with star-shaped purple blooms, "contains compounds that can ease pain without dulling the mind. And this—" he gestured to a delicate vine with pale blue flowers, "strengthens the heart without the dangerous effects of foxglove."
In the dream, Jane knelt beside him, their shoulders almost touching as she leaned to examine the plants more closely. The weight that had pressed upon her for months—the crown, the realm's expectations, the constant political calculations—had vanished completely. She felt deliciously, unexpectedly free in a way she hadn't experienced since childhood.
"Could I learn to cultivate these?" she asked, her voice light and unfettered by royal dignity.
Bobby turned to her, his expression softening in a way it rarely did in waking life. "You could learn anything, Jane Grey. Your mind is the most extraordinary thing about you—and there are many extraordinary things."
The compliment warmed her more than the greenhouse's carefully regulated temperature. In this dream-world, she didn't need to maintain the careful distance propriety demanded. She could simply be herself—a girl with insatiable curiosity and passion for knowledge rather than England's reluctant queen.
"Show me more," she urged, rising and offering her hand with uncharacteristic boldness.
Bobby took it without hesitation, his palm warm against hers as he led her deeper into the gardens. They passed through a hidden door into a section she'd never seen before—a vast circular chamber where plants from apparently impossibly different climates thrived together under a domed glass ceiling.
"How is this possible?" she breathed, watching a plant with spines and desert adaptations flourishing beside what appeared to be tropical flowers.
"Nothing is impossible," Bobby replied simply. "Only improbable until someone decides otherwise."
The philosophical implications of this statement—challenging Aristotelian principles regarding natural limitations—would have launched them into scholarly debate in waking life. Here in this dream-space, Jane simply accepted the wisdom with a smile, walking between impossible botanical pairings with childlike wonder.
They spoke of everything and nothing as they explored—philosophy blending with personal reflections, scientific observations merging with quiet jokes that made Jane laugh with unexpected freedom. No royal protocols governed their interaction here. No political calculations colored their exchange. They existed simply as themselves—two minds connecting without the artificial constraints that typically separated them.
Bobby showed her a small collection of plants with delicate white flowers. "These," he said, "produce the most remarkable fruit. It looks ordinary—like any common apple—but tastes of whatever the person most desires in that moment."
"That's impossible," Jane replied automatically, her scholarly skepticism momentarily reasserting itself.
Bobby's smile held a secret knowledge that transcended her doubt. "Try one."
He reached up, plucking a perfectly ordinary-looking apple from a branch that seemed to materialize between them. The fruit gleamed in the diffuse light filtering through the glass ceiling—red and gold and utterly unremarkable to casual observation.
Jane accepted it with curious fingers, turning it over to examine its apparently conventional surface. "It looks like any apple from the Greenwich orchards."
"Appearances often deceive," Bobby replied with that cryptic half-smile she found simultaneously infuriating and fascinating. "Bite into it. See for yourself."
Jane raised the fruit to her lips, hesitating just a moment before taking a small, experimental bite. The flavor that burst across her tongue made her eyes widen in astonishment. Not apple at all, but something complex and unexpected—the sharp sweetness of quince preserves (her favorite) blended with something deeper and richer she couldn't immediately identify.
"It tastes like..." she began, then stopped, words failing her as the flavor shifted subtly. "It's changing."
"It reveals what you truly want," Bobby explained, watching her reaction with evident pleasure. "Not what you think you should want, or what others have taught you to desire, but what lies beneath those constructed preferences."
Jane took another bite, closing her eyes to focus on the evolving flavor. "Freedom," she whispered, understanding dawning as the taste clarified in her perception. "It tastes like freedom feels."
Bobby's expression held unusual gentleness. "The most precious commodity. More valuable than crowns or kingdoms."
The greenhouse around them began to shimmer slightly at the edges of her vision, the dream starting to dissolve as wakefulness approached. Jane felt sudden, desperate urgency to hold onto this moment—this perfect interaction unconstrained by court protocols or political necessities.
"Must I wake?" she asked, the question directed not at Bobby but at whatever force governed dreams and consciousness.
"For now," Bobby replied as if the question had been meant for him. "But remember this feeling, Jane Grey. Remember what freedom tastes like."
The dream blurred further, colors running together like pigments in rain. Bobby's face remained clear a moment longer, his expression containing something like genuine affection beneath his usual enigmatic mask.
"I'll find you," he promised as the dream faded completely. "Whatever comes next."
Jane woke to pale February sunlight filtering through her chamber windows. For once, no urgent knocks disturbed her waking moments—no messengers with crises requiring immediate royal attention, no courtiers with petitions demanding audience, no Privy Council members with political complications necessitating her presence.
She lay still, savoring the lingering sensation of her dream. The taste of that impossible apple—freedom and possibility combined—seemed to linger on her tongue despite its imaginary nature. The feeling of walking beside Bobby without royal constraints weighing upon her shoulders remained so vivid she could almost believe it had actually occurred.
If only the dream had lasted longer, she thought with unexpected yearning. Just a few more moments of that perfect liberty.
The sound of her chamber door opening finally broke the peaceful solitude. Margaret entered with her usual efficient grace, carrying a tray with light breakfast despite the palace's apparent chaos. Behind her, Captain Phillips maintained his vigilant position near the entrance—exactly as Jane remembered from the previous night.
"Good morning, my lady," Margaret greeted her with the formal courtesy that had replaced "Your Majesty" following yesterday's abdication. "I trust you slept well despite the circumstances."
"Surprisingly well," Jane admitted, sitting up and allowing Margaret to arrange pillows behind her back. "No disturbances throughout the night?"
"None, my lady," Margaret confirmed, setting the breakfast tray across Jane's lap with practiced precision. "The palace has been remarkably orderly since late evening."
Jane accepted a cup of watered wine, considering this unexpected information. Given yesterday's panic as news of Mary's approaching forces spread throughout Greenwich, she had anticipated a night of continuous disruptions. The complete absence of such disturbances seemed almost suspicious in its perfection.
"Orderly?" she echoed, taking a small sip of the wine. "Yesterday suggested anything but order would prevail."
Margaret's expression revealed subtle satisfaction beneath her usual professional demeanor. "Circumstances changed significantly after you retired, my lady. Viscount Kestrel arrived shortly before midnight with substantial retinue."
Jane nearly choked on her wine, the liquid catching momentarily in her throat as the name registered. "Lord Kestrel is here? In Greenwich?"
"Since late last night," Margaret confirmed, unfolding a linen napkin across Jane's lap with calm efficiency that belied the extraordinary information she delivered. "His men secured the palace perimeter and established order throughout the grounds. Captain Phillips coordinated with Viscount Kestrel's security forces to ensure your chambers remained completely undisturbed."
Jane's heart performed an undignified flutter against her ribcage. Bobby had come—not to Whitehaven or some distant safe position as political chaos unfolded, but directly to Greenwich despite the approaching danger. More significantly, he had arrived as she slept, establishing order throughout the palace that had been disintegrating into panicked chaos when she retired.
"I see," she acknowledged, struggling to maintain composed dignity despite the emotions surging beneath her carefully controlled expression. "And the situation regarding Lady Mary's forces?"
"Unchanged according to most recent reports," Captain Phillips responded from his position near the door. "Though Viscount Kestrel has implemented various measures to ensure Greenwich and surrounding London remains stable during this transition period."
Jane nodded, absorbing this information while attempting to process the implications of Bobby's unexpected arrival. After a month's absence, he had appeared precisely when circumstances seemed most dire—exactly as he had for Elizabeth in that abandoned church months ago, according to stories she'd heard.
She took a small bite of bread, her appetite surprisingly present despite the extraordinary circumstances. "This explains the unusual quiet. I had expected...greater disruption given yesterday's developments."
"Viscount Kestrel's presence tends to inspire remarkable compliance with established protocols," Captain Phillips observed with dry understatement that almost suggested humor despite his professional demeanor.
Jane couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Bobby's extraordinary effect on those around him—that peculiar combination of charisma, authority, and subtle intimidation—had apparently worked its usual magic on Greenwich's panicked inhabitants.
"My lady," Margaret continued, moving toward the wardrobe with purposeful efficiency, "I've prepared appropriate attire for this morning's council meeting."
Jane paused mid-bite, her bread suspended halfway to her mouth. "Council meeting? I abdicated yesterday. What possible purpose would my presence serve at council today?"
Margaret drew forth a gown Jane had never seen before—deep midnight blue with careful silver embroidery along the bodice and sleeves. The fabric caught the morning light, revealing subtle patterns woven into the material itself. Not quite as elaborate as her royal garments had been, yet considerably more formal than what would be appropriate for a noble lady awaiting imprisonment.
"The dress..." Jane began, setting aside her bread with careful precision.
"Was delivered during the night," Margaret explained, laying out the accompanying accessories—a silver chain with sapphire pendant, delicate matching earrings, and a circlet of silver that wasn't quite a crown but certainly suggested more than ordinary noble status. "Viscount Kestrel requested you be dressed appropriately for your station."
"My station," Jane repeated carefully. "Which is what, precisely? I am neither queen nor merely Lady Jane Grey at present."
Margaret's expression revealed nothing beyond professional courtesy. "Lord Kestrel suggested attire befitting what you are rather than merely what conventional titles might designate."
Jane felt heat rising in her cheeks at the cryptic message. Even through intermediaries, Bobby maintained his characteristic enigmatic communication style. "When exactly did Lord Kestrel issue these instructions?"
"Shortly after midnight, my lady. He spoke with Captain Phillips regarding security arrangements, then provided specific guidance regarding your presentation this morning." Margaret held up a silver-brushed undergown that complemented the midnight blue perfectly. "He was most particular about certain details."
Jane's heart performed another undignified flutter. Bobby had thought about how she should be dressed—had specified details regarding her appearance even while presumably handling the extraordinary security situation throughout Greenwich.
"Where is he now?" she asked, attempting casual inquiry despite the obvious eagerness coloring her tone.
Margaret's lips twitched with what might have been suppressed amusement. "Viscount Kestrel currently attends the Privy Council, my lady. Most members have returned since yesterday."
"Returned?" Jane echoed with genuine surprise. "Many fled yesterday when Mary's approach became known. Why would they return to Greenwich rather than continuing toward safer positions?"
Captain Phillips cleared his throat discreetly. "Some returned through logical assessment of changing political circumstances, my lady. Others required more... direct encouragement regarding their obligations."
The diplomatic phrasing barely concealed what Jane immediately understood—Bobby had somehow compelled or coerced reluctant council members back to their posts despite yesterday's panic. The image of powerful nobles being "encouraged" back to Greenwich by Bobby's methods created momentary satisfaction despite her usual measured perspective on governance.
What are you planning? she wondered, studying the elaborate outfit Margaret continued arranging. Whatever Bobby intended, she knew with absolute certainty she would support him however she could. Despite her abdication, despite yesterday's extraordinary developments, despite Mary's impending arrival—if Bobby Kestrel requested her presence dressed in specific attire, she would comply without hesitation.
"I should eat quickly then," Jane decided, returning to her breakfast with renewed purpose. "Lord Kestrel obviously considers time sensitive if he's convened council so promptly."
"Indeed, my lady," Margaret agreed, though she immediately added, "However, I must insist you eat properly rather than merely rushing. Lord Kestrel specifically emphasized the importance of your physical strength being maintained despite extraordinary circumstances."
Jane felt another small flutter at this unexpected evidence of Bobby's concern for her wellbeing amid genuine political crisis. "Very well," she conceded, taking more deliberate bites of bread and cheese. "Though I confess I'm rather eager to understand what council could possibly require my presence today."
"Understanding often emerges through direct engagement rather than prior explanation," Margaret observed with uncharacteristic philosophical tone that momentarily reminded Jane of Bobby's enigmatic communications.
As she finished her breakfast and allowed Margaret to assist with dressing, Jane marveled at the contrast between yesterday's chaos and this morning's orderly procedures. Where panic had pervaded Greenwich's corridors, now disciplined activity prevailed. Servants moved with purpose rather than frantic confusion. Guards maintained proper positions with restored military bearing instead of nervous clustering.
The transformation seemed almost magical in its completeness—as though Bobby's mere presence had instantly reversed the dissolution that had been overtaking the palace. Jane knew better than to attribute such dramatic change to merely supernatural causes, understanding that Bobby's methods combined psychological influence with strategic deployment of resources. Yet the effect remained extraordinary regardless of its specific mechanisms.
Margaret worked with practiced efficiency, transforming Jane from sleep-tousled girl to something approaching regal presence despite her technical abdication. The midnight blue gown fit perfectly—suspiciously so given its overnight appearance—settling against her slender form as though crafted specifically for her measurements.
"How did Lord Kestrel acquire a dress that fits so precisely?" Jane wondered aloud as Margaret adjusted the final laces.
"I couldn't say, my lady," Margaret replied with diplomatic precision that nevertheless suggested she might know more than she was willing to share. "The garments arrived with Lord Kestrel's retinue shortly after midnight."
The silver circlet came last—not quite a crown, yet considerably more formal than ordinary noble headdress. Margaret positioned it carefully, adjusting Jane's dark copper hair to frame her face in a style that managed to appear both youthful and authoritative simultaneously.
"There," Margaret declared, stepping back to assess the complete effect. "Entirely appropriate for your position."
"Which remains undefined," Jane observed wryly, turning to examine her reflection in the polished metal mirror. The girl who looked back at her seemed neither the queen she had been yesterday nor merely the noble lady she had expected to become upon abdication. Something else, something not quite definable through conventional Tudor court hierarchies.
Captain Phillips opened the chamber door with formal bow. "If you're ready, my lady? The Privy Council awaits."
Jane lifted her chin slightly, drawing on the royal bearing she had cultivated throughout nine extraordinary months. Whatever Bobby had planned, whatever unprecedented scenario awaited in the council chamber, she would face it with dignity befitting both her Tudor blood and her personal integrity.
"I'm ready," she confirmed, moving toward the door with measured steps that conveyed neither excessive haste nor reluctant delay.
The corridors of Greenwich Palace had transformed overnight from chaotic evacuation to orderly function. Where yesterday nobles and servants had scurried with panicked expressions, now carefully disciplined activity prevailed. Guardsmen stood at attention at regular intervals, their livery displaying neither Jane's royal insignia nor Mary's symbols, but rather a neutral palace guard designation that cleverly avoided declaring specific loyalty during this precarious transition.
Jane noted these details with scholar's precision as Captain Phillips escorted her toward the council chamber. Bobby's influence manifested in countless subtle arrangements—creating functional stability without explicitly challenging Mary's approaching authority. Such delicate navigation reflected his characteristic approach to complex political situations.
When they reached the Privy Council doors, Jane paused momentarily, drawing deep breath to steady herself before confronting whatever extraordinary scenario awaited inside. Captain Phillips nodded respectfully, then pushed the massive oak doors open with ceremonial deliberation.
"Lady Jane Grey," he announced with formal precision that carefully avoided royal title while maintaining appropriate dignity.
The council chamber fell silent as Jane entered. Where she had expected depleted attendance given yesterday's mass departures, instead she found the long table fully occupied. Every seat contained a council member—including several Jane had personally witnessed fleeing Greenwich in panic the previous afternoon.
More surprising still, the lords rose as she entered—the formal respect typically reserved for reigning monarch rather than abdicated noble. Their expressions revealed confusion mingled with wary calculation as they followed this unprecedented protocol toward someone who had formally surrendered authority mere hours earlier.
"My lords," Jane acknowledged with composed dignity, moving toward the head of the table where the monarch traditionally presided. She hesitated momentarily, uncertain whether claiming this position remained appropriate given her abdication.
Cecil solved this dilemma with characteristic diplomatic precision, gesturing toward a specially prepared seat at the table's right side—neither claiming royal authority nor relegating her to merely observer status.
"If you would join us," he suggested with formal courtesy that nevertheless contained subtle guidance.
Jane moved to the indicated position, settling into the seat with graceful composure that belied her inner confusion. The council members resumed their places with rustle of expensive fabric and subtle clearing of throats that suggested collective uncertainty regarding proper protocol in these unprecedented circumstances.
"As I was explaining," Cecil continued as though this extraordinary arrangement represented perfectly normal procedure, "the situation regarding Lady Mary's approach toward London has evolved considerably since yesterday's initial reports."
Jane scanned the faces around the table, searching for Bobby among the assembled council members. His absence created immediate disappointment despite her disciplined attempt at emotional control. Had Margaret been mistaken? Was he handling some crisis elsewhere while council proceeded without his direct presence?
"The Spanish forces accompanying Lady Mary's English supporters present significant complications beyond merely domestic succession matters," Cecil continued, his voice measured despite the explosive implications of this statement.
Jane's attention sharpened immediately. Prior reports had mentioned Mary's Catholic supporters but not explicit Spanish military involvement—a distinction with profound implications for English sovereignty regardless of succession legitimacy.
Before Cecil could elaborate further, the council chamber doors opened once more. Conversation ceased instantly as every head turned toward the entrance. Jane's heart performed another undignified acceleration as Bobby Kestrel appeared in the doorway, his commanding presence instantly dominating the room despite his lack of formal announcement.
He wore deep blue almost exactly matching Jane's gown—coordination that could not possibly represent coincidence. His attire, while technically appropriate for his Viscount status, somehow suggested greater authority through subtle details she couldn't immediately identify.
More surprising than his appearance was his companion. Princess Elizabeth Tudor stood beside him, her expression revealing nothing beyond careful royal composure despite the extraordinary circumstances of her presence at council during this precarious transition.
"Lord Cecil," Bobby acknowledged with casual authority that somehow diminished the council's senior member despite the formal courtesy of his address. "Princess Elizabeth has graciously agreed to join our deliberations regarding these unprecedented developments."
Cecil recovered quickly from his evident surprise. "Of course, Your Highness," he addressed Elizabeth with appropriate formality. "Your perspective on these matters brings valuable dimension to council deliberations."
Elizabeth inclined her head with precisely calibrated dignity—neither claiming undue authority nor diminishing her royal blood despite her technically secondary position in succession.
"England's welfare transcends individual claims," she observed with careful neutrality that nevertheless established her patriotic credentials while avoiding direct statement regarding either Jane or Mary's legitimacy.
Bobby guided Elizabeth toward the table, positioning her opposite Jane in arrangement that created perfect symmetry—one Tudor princess on each side of the council table, neither occupying the monarch's traditional place yet both clearly central to whatever unprecedented scenario Bobby was constructing.
"Now," Bobby stated, remaining standing as though his position transcended the council's formal seating arrangements, "let us continue addressing matters too significant for yesterday's unfortunate panic to disrupt proper governance."
Before discussion could resume, the chamber doors opened once more. Four guardsmen entered carrying elaborate cushion upon which rested England's State Crown—the formal royal regalia Jane had surrendered just yesterday as part of her abdication.
A collective intake of breath rippled through the council as the crown was placed at the table's head, occupying the empty chair where monarch would traditionally sit. The symbolism could not have been more explicit—authority remained with the crown itself rather than any individual claimant during this unprecedented transition.
"Gentlemen," Bobby addressed the council, his voice carrying effortless authority despite its conversational tone, "that crown represents more than merely which Tudor occupies England's throne. It embodies stability, continuity, and national identity transcending individual claims or personal ambitions."
He moved behind the empty chair, his hand resting casually upon its carved back in position that suggested facilitation rather than usurpation of royal authority.
"England requires stability above all else," he continued, emphasizing the word with careful precision. "Stability that cannot emerge from chaos, regardless of legitimacy claims or theological preferences."
Jane watched the council members' reactions, noting how their expressions shifted between confusion, calculation, and cautious consideration as Bobby established philosophical framework utterly unlike typical Tudor governance discussions.
"Power flows from unexpected sources when conventional authority structures face disruption," Bobby observed, gesturing toward the crown with casual familiarity that would have seemed presumptuous from anyone else. "Decentralized authority distributed across multiple domains often proves more resilient than concentrated power vulnerable to single point failure."
Jane immediately grasped the revolutionary concept Bobby articulated—governance distributed across multiple centers rather than concentrated solely in monarch's person. While the specifics remained unclear, the philosophical foundation suggested constitutional limitations upon royal authority that transcended any individual ruler's preferences.
Elizabeth's expression revealed she too understood the implications, her calculating gaze assessing Bobby with intensified focus despite her outwardly composed demeanor. The older council members appeared considerably more confused, their furrowed brows suggesting they grasped something unusual was being proposed without fully comprehending its revolutionary nature.
"Order must prevail even amidst transition," Bobby emphasized, his tone shifting toward practical matters rather than abstract philosophy. "London's merchants require functioning markets. Farmers need secure transport for their goods. Citizens deserve protection regardless which Tudor eventually wears this crown."
Cecil nodded cautious agreement, ever the pragmatist regarding governance fundamentals despite his careful political calculations.
"Which brings us to our immediate situation," Bobby continued, turning slightly to include Jane directly in his address. "Lady Jane, you abdicated yesterday with remarkable dignity that reflected personal integrity beyond your years. May I inquire whether you truly wish to participate in these deliberations given your expressed desire to relinquish royal authority?"
All eyes turned toward Jane, placing her suddenly at discussion's center despite her carefully neutral positioning at the table. Bobby's question created immediate space for her genuine preference rather than merely assuming her inclusion—characteristic respect for her agency that distinguished him from every other male authority figure in her experience.
Jane met his gaze directly, momentarily forgetting the assembled council as their connection transcended the formal setting. "I wish to support England's welfare in whatever capacity remains appropriate," she answered carefully. "If my presence serves stability during this extraordinary transition, I offer it willingly despite personal preference for scholarly pursuits over political authority."
Something approaching smile briefly softened Bobby's typically sardonic expression. "Well stated," he acknowledged with subtle warmth that sent unexpected heat flaring across Jane's cheeks despite her disciplined royal composure.
He turned back to address the full council. "Reports indicate Lady Mary approaches with approximately eleven thousand troops, including Spanish mercenary contingents provided through her negotiations with King Philip."
"Impressive force," Cecil observed neutrally. "Though perhaps less overwhelming than initial rumors suggested."
"Precisely," Bobby agreed, his tone shifting toward the practical assessment Jane recognized from their Whitehaven discussions regarding governance fundamentals. "While undeniably significant when measured against Northumberland's defeated army, this force represents merely fraction of England's potential military capability."
He moved toward the large map displayed on the council chamber's side wall, gesturing toward England's geographic expanse with casual familiarity that suggested comprehensive strategic understanding despite his supposedly recent arrival from foreign lands.
"England can field nearly one hundred thousand fighting men when fully mobilized," he stated with matter-of-fact confidence that commanded immediate attention despite the extraordinary claim. "The reason most nobles have committed to neither Mary nor Northumberland's cause reflects fundamental uncertainty regarding England's best interests rather than merely personal calculation."
Jane couldn't prevent herself from speaking, scholarly precision momentarily overriding courtly restraint. "Uncertainty? Mary's claim through the original succession act seems quite definitive given Northumberland's amendment has been exposed as forgery."
Bobby turned toward her with approving expression rather than irritation at her interruption. "An excellent and legitimate point," he acknowledged, treating her observation with scholarly respect rather than patronizing tolerance. "Legitimacy through established succession represents significant factor in assessing competing claims."
He paused, allowing brief silence to heighten attention before continuing with deceptively casual tone that belied his statement's explosive implications.
"However, legitimacy becomes considerably more complex when rightful heir engages in what technically constitutes treason against currently recognized sovereign."
Murmurs erupted around the council table as lords exchanged startled glances. Bobby had articulated what many had privately considered but none had dared state openly—that Mary's negotiations with Spain while Jane reigned technically constituted treasonous activity regardless of her legitimacy claims.
"Mary was not queen when she negotiated Spanish military support," Bobby elaborated with casual precision that magnified the statement's impact rather than diminishing it. "She promised territories, privileges, and authorities that rightfully belonged to England's crowned sovereign in exchange for foreign military assistance against that sovereign."
Cecil leaned forward slightly, his typical diplomatic caution momentarily suspended in favor of direct engagement with this extraordinary perspective. "You suggest Lady Mary's claim, while legitimate through succession, has been compromised through these negotiations?"
"I merely observe that royal legitimacy represents one significant factor among several when assessing governance stability," Bobby replied with carefully measured tone. "Security, prosperity, religious harmony, diplomatic relationships—all contribute to functional realm beyond merely succession technicalities."
Jane noticed how Elizabeth's expression had intensified during this exchange, her calculating gaze assessing each council member's reaction with evident strategic analysis. Despite her youth, Elizabeth's political instincts clearly recognized the extraordinary opportunity Bobby's framing created—establishing fundamental principles that might eventually support her own claim through practical governance rather than merely succession details.
Lord Russell cleared his throat nervously. "These philosophical considerations, while undoubtedly fascinating, seem somewhat academic given Lady Mary's approaching army. How does theoretical governance affect our immediate practical situation?"
Bobby smiled—the wolfish expression Jane recognized from their most interesting philosophical discussions at Whitehaven when conversation approached particularly revolutionary concepts.
"Practical governance manifests through collective confidence in stability," he replied, moving back toward the chair where England's crown rested with symbolic authority. "When nobles, merchants, craftsmen and farmers believe their prosperity secure, they naturally align with authority that guarantees such security."
As if perfectly timed to illustrate this point, the council chamber doors opened once more. A messenger entered, moving immediately toward Cecil with evident urgency despite maintaining formal protocol.
"My lord," the messenger addressed Cecil with hurried bow. "Reports from southern counties indicate significant force assembling along Sussex coast. At least thirty thousand men mustering under various noble standards, with numbers increasing hourly."
Startled exclamations erupted around the council table. Such massive force mobilizing spontaneously within mere days of Mary's victory at Norwich seemed impossible given typical military recruitment timelines.
"Thirty thousand?" Lord Pembroke repeated incredulously. "Under whose command?"
"No single commander, my lord," the messenger replied. "Rather, individual contingents organizing under local leadership while coordinating combined approach toward London. Their stated purpose is 'securing England's sovereignty against foreign influence regardless of succession technicalities.'"
Bobby accepted this extraordinary report with casual nod suggesting he'd anticipated precisely this development. "When prosperity faces external threat, loyalty naturally emerges to protect what matters most," he observed with enigmatic smile that suggested deeper understanding beyond his simple statement.
Jane studied him with scholarly intensity, certain these developments reflected his direct influence despite their apparent spontaneous nature. The army's stated purpose—protecting sovereignty regardless of succession—mirrored exactly the philosophical framework he'd established minutes earlier in council.
"These forces move against Lady Mary?" Cecil inquired with careful precision that avoided explicitly supporting such action while clearly seeking clarification.
"Not necessarily against Mary herself," Bobby clarified, his tone suggesting important distinction. "Rather, against foreign troops entering England under any justification, regardless which claimant they support."
He returned to the map, gesturing toward the forces' reported positions with casual familiarity suggesting comprehensive strategic comprehension despite supposedly receiving this information simultaneously with council.
"England's army could easily overwhelm Mary's combined forces despite their significant capabilities," he observed with matter-of-fact assessment that emphasized military realities rather than political preferences. "However, such conflict benefits no one when diplomatic resolution remains entirely possible. This mobilization demonstrates England's capacity for self-defense without necessarily requiring its immediate exercise."
Jane grasped the brilliance of this approach immediately. Rather than directly opposing Mary's legitimate succession claim, Bobby had reframed the entire conflict around national sovereignty versus foreign interference—a position virtually all English nobles could support regardless of religious preferences or dynastic loyalties.
"You've arranged this," Elizabeth observed suddenly, breaking her calculated silence with direct assessment that captured what many council members likely suspected but hesitated to articulate.
Bobby turned toward her with expression of exaggerated innocence that fooled no one. "I've merely articulated certain perspectives that resonate with English priorities regarding national independence and security. If nobles find such perspective compelling enough to mobilize their household guards and tenants, that reflects their own patriotic assessment rather than external manipulation."
"Patriotic," Elizabeth repeated, testing the unfamiliar concept. "From patria—fatherland. Loyalty to nation rather than merely monarch or religious authority."
"Precisely," Bobby confirmed, genuine approval warming his tone. "Concept familiar in ancient Rome, though somewhat underdeveloped in Tudor governance despite clear practical application."
Jane watched this exchange with momentary pang she reluctantly identified as jealousy. How easily Elizabeth engaged Bobby's intellectual interests, how naturally they connected despite her rival's technically diminished position following Edward's death and Northumberland's amendment.
She pushed the unworthy emotion aside immediately, focusing instead on the brilliant strategy Bobby had apparently orchestrated. While Mary possessed legitimate claim through succession, her Spanish alliance created vulnerability regarding national sovereignty that transcended merely dynastic considerations. By positioning massive English force as protecting sovereignty rather than opposing legitimate succession, Bobby created perfect negotiating leverage without directly challenging Mary's birthright.
"What precisely do these forces intend?" Cecil inquired, his practical administrative mind focusing on immediate tactical considerations rather than philosophical implications.
"They demonstrate England's capacity for self-protection while creating space for diplomatic resolution," Bobby replied with casual simplicity belying the statement's revolutionary implications. "Mary can claim her rightful throne through established succession while relinquishing foreign military support that compromises English sovereignty. Perfect solution honoring both legitimacy and national independence."
Jane marveled at the elegant simplicity of this approach. Rather than forcing binary choice between competing claimants, Bobby had established framework where Mary's legitimate succession could proceed while her more problematic foreign alliances were neutralized through collective demonstration of English military capability.
"England has always maintained independence despite religious associations," Bobby continued, addressing the implicit theological dimensions without explicitly challenging Mary's Catholic devotion. "Previous monarchs maintained diplomatic relationships with Rome while preserving national sovereignty regarding governance matters. Practical arrangement benefiting all parties despite occasional theological tensions."
Cecil nodded thoughtfully, clearly appreciating this diplomatic framing that acknowledged religious realities while emphasizing practical governance priorities transcending merely theological preferences.
"And what role would the council serve during this... transition?" Lord Russell inquired cautiously, his tone suggesting personal calculation regarding potential position under reconfigured governance arrangement.
"Essential continuity ensuring administrative stability regardless which claimant ultimately wears the crown," Bobby replied without hesitation. "England's governance requires functional administration beyond merely symbolic leadership—taxes collected, justice administered, commerce facilitated, diplomatic relationships maintained."
Jane recognized the revolutionary concept underlying this seemingly practical statement. Bobby effectively proposed governance structure where monarch's authority existed within administrative framework rather than holding absolute power transcending all institutional limitations—essentially constitutional monarchy without explicitly naming such unprecedented arrangement.
Elizabeth clearly grasped these implications as well, her expression revealing intense calculation despite her outwardly composed demeanor. Such arrangement would eventually constrain her own authority should she eventually gain the throne, yet simultaneously protect her position against the type of machinations that had elevated Jane through Northumberland's manipulation of dying Edward.
"This council would continue functioning during succession transition?" Cecil clarified, his administrative mind immediately assessing practical implications rather than philosophical dimensions.
"Absolutely essential," Bobby confirmed with casual certainty that somehow transformed theoretical governance discussion into practical implementation plan through mere conversational description. "Continuity provides stability precisely when symbolic authority undergoes transition."
As this extraordinary discussion continued, Jane found herself repeatedly drawn to Bobby's commanding presence despite attempts to maintain scholarly detachment. The midnight blue of his attire perfectly complemented her own gown—coordination that continued suggesting deliberate symbolic alignment despite her technical abdication and his theoretical neutrality regarding succession claims.
How carefully he'd arranged everything—London's security established through his personal forces, massive army mobilized through indirect influence rather than explicit commands, council reconvened despite yesterday's panicked dispersal, philosophical framework established that supported legitimate succession while preserving English sovereignty against foreign interference.
Even her own presentation—the carefully selected gown, the silver circlet positioned between crown and noble headdress, her physical placement at council table perfectly balanced against Elizabeth's position—reflected comprehensive strategic vision encompassing both practical governance and symbolic representation.
Most extraordinary of all, he had created this entire framework overnight (or so it seemed), transforming Greenwich's chaotic evacuation into orderly governance procedure between sunset and sunrise through methods that combined conventional authority with whatever extraordinary capabilities he carefully concealed beneath his cultivated public persona.
The council deliberations continued with increasing focus on practical implementation rather than merely theoretical governance. Cecil's administrative expertise proved particularly valuable as discussion shifted toward specific mechanisms for maintaining governmental function during this unprecedented transition between competing claimants.
"Communication with Lady Mary must emphasize recognition of her legitimate succession claim while clearly articulating concerns regarding foreign troops on English soil," Cecil suggested with characteristic diplomatic precision. "Perhaps formal delegation could meet her forces before they reach London's immediate vicinity?"
"Excellent proposal," Bobby approved with casual authority that somehow positioned him above council despite his technically subordinate viscount status. "Delegation should include representatives spanning religious perspectives to demonstrate unified English position transcending merely theological preferences."
As arrangements for this diplomatic approach took shape, Jane found herself unexpectedly included despite her abdication. "Lady Jane's participation would demonstrate good faith regarding peaceful transition," Bobby suggested with careful emphasis that established her continued relevance despite her technically diminished status.
Jane maintained composed dignity despite the small flutter of pleasure Bobby's continued inclusion created. "I would willingly participate if such involvement facilitates peaceful resolution," she confirmed with quiet certainty that reflected genuine commitment to England's welfare beyond merely personal ambition.
Throughout these complex negotiations, Jane noticed Elizabeth's calculating observation—assessing each development with evident strategic analysis despite her minimal direct participation. The older Tudor princess clearly recognized the unprecedented governance framework Bobby established created potential precedent that might eventually support her own claim through practical stability rather than merely theological preference.
As the council meeting extended into late morning, Jane found herself marveling at Bobby's extraordinary orchestration of these complex developments. Where yesterday panic had prevailed with nobles fleeing and administration collapsing, today structured governance proceeded with remarkable effectiveness despite the technical absence of clearly established monarch.
This transformation reflected precisely what she had observed at Whitehaven—Bobby's ability to establish functional systems that operated through distributed responsibility rather than merely centralized authority.
The experimental community had demonstrated unprecedented productivity through careful structural design rather than merely hierarchical command, precisely as this reconstituted council now maintained governance despite royal transition.
"Perhaps," Bobby suggested as discussion reached natural pause, "Lady Jane and Princess Elizabeth might wish brief recess while council addresses certain administrative details requiring attention before diplomatic delegation departs?"
The courtly phrasing barely disguised what Jane immediately recognized as deliberate opportunity for private conversation apart from council's formal procedures. Despite her scholarly discipline, she felt immediate warmth spreading across her cheeks at the prospect of direct interaction with Bobby after his month-long absence.
Elizabeth evidently recognized the same opportunity, rising with perfectly calibrated dignity that neither appeared excessively eager nor reluctantly compliant. "Fresh air would indeed prove welcome after such intensive deliberations," she observed with diplomatic precision that matched Bobby's careful framing.
Jane followed her example, maintaining composed royal bearing despite the undignified acceleration of her pulse at the prospect of Bobby's undivided attention—even if temporarily shared with Elizabeth rather than enjoying the private scholarly discussions she had treasured at Whitehaven.
Bobby escorted them from the council chamber with formal courtesy that revealed nothing beyond appropriate respect for their royal blood. Only after they had moved beyond the massive oak doors, turning toward small antechamber typically used for private consultation during lengthy council sessions, did his expression shift from public mask toward the more genuine engagement Jane had treasured during their Whitehaven conversations.
"Well," he remarked once the antechamber door closed behind them, granting rare privacy despite Greenwich's crowded corridors, "that was remarkably productive given yesterday's complete governance collapse."
The understatement—so characteristic of his sardonic perspective on Tudor politics—broke through Jane's carefully maintained royal composure. She couldn't prevent the small laugh that escaped her lips, the sound containing genuine delight at resuming direct conversation after his prolonged absence.
Elizabeth's reaction proved more measured, her calculating gaze assessing Bobby with heightened intensity now that council's formal observation no longer constrained their interaction.
"You've orchestrated quite extraordinary scenario," Elizabeth observed with direct precision Jane herself might have hesitated to articulate despite similarly clear assessment. "Practical governance framework functioning despite technical absence of established monarch while massive army conveniently materializes precisely when diplomatic leverage proves most valuable."
Bobby's smile held genuine appreciation for her direct analysis rather than offense at implied manipulation. "Events occasionally align with theoretical governance models when practical circumstances create appropriate conditions," he replied with characteristic enigmatic phrasing that acknowledged her assessment without explicitly confirming direct orchestration.
Jane found herself studying the interaction between them with scholarly detachment temporarily displacing personal emotional response. How fascinating to observe Elizabeth's strategic directness contrasting with her own more philosophical approach—two Tudor women engaging Bobby's extraordinary intellect through distinctly different methodologies yet both somehow connecting with aspects of his complex perspective.
"The army," Jane inquired, scholarly precision focusing on practical details rather than merely philosophical framework, "how did you arrange such massive force mobilizing within days of Norwich battle? Traditional recruitment typically requires weeks even under optimal conditions."
Bobby turned toward her with evident pleasure at her perceptive question. "Pre-existing networks established through commercial relationships," he explained with uncharacteristically direct response that suggested particular respect for her analytical approach. "Merchants, guild masters, local officials—all maintaining contingency preparations protecting their economic interests against potential disruption regardless of succession outcomes."
"You've been establishing these networks since your arrival," Jane assessed with sudden clarity regarding his extensive commercial operations throughout England. "Not merely for trade, but creating latent military capability deployable when circumstances warranted."
"Multipurpose investment," Bobby acknowledged with casual gesture suggesting such comprehensive strategic preparation represented entirely normal business practice despite its evident extraordinary comprehensiveness. "Commercial prosperity creates resources applicable across various domains when properly structured."
Elizabeth studied him with intensified calculation, clearly reassessing his capabilities based on this extraordinary revelation. "You anticipated this exact scenario," she stated rather than asked, her tone containing equal measures appreciation and wariness regarding such comprehensive foresight.
"I anticipated various potential developments requiring flexible response capabilities," Bobby corrected with diplomatic precision that neither confirmed nor denied her specific assessment. "Preparation enables effective adaptation regardless which particular scenario actually manifests."
Jane recognized familiar philosophical principle from their Whitehaven discussions—Bobby's emphasis on decentralized preparedness enabling response to unpredictable developments rather than merely predetermined planning for specific anticipated scenarios. The approach reflected his consistent governance philosophy prioritizing resilient adaptability over rigid hierarchical control.
"What happens now?" she asked, scholarly interest temporarily overwhelming personal concerns regarding her own uncertain status within this extraordinary transition. "Mary holds legitimate claim through succession, yet your mobilized army creates effective counterbalance regarding her Spanish alliance."
Bobby smiled with genuine warmth that sent unexpected heat flaring across Jane's cheeks despite her disciplined attempt at scholarly detachment. "Now, Jane Grey, the truly interesting governance experiment begins," he replied with uncharacteristic openness that suggested special trust despite Elizabeth's presence. "Legitimate succession proceeds through established hereditary principle while practical governance adapts toward more distributed authority structure."
"Constitutional limitation upon royal prerogative," Elizabeth observed with remarkably direct assessment of the revolutionary concept underlying Bobby's carefully diplomatic framing. "Monarchy continuing while institutional constraints channel its authority through established procedures rather than merely personal preference."
"Fascinating perspective," Bobby acknowledged with evident appreciation for her constitutional assessment despite its unprecedented nature within Tudor governance traditions. "Though perhaps evolutionary development rather than revolutionary transformation might prove more sustainable implementation pathway given cultural context."
Jane watched this extraordinary exchange with combined scholarly fascination and personal emotional complexity she couldn't fully untangle despite her best analytical efforts. Bobby engaged Elizabeth's strategic political assessment with evident intellectual respect that matched how he had always treated Jane's more philosophical perspective—creating momentary jealousy she immediately recognized as unworthy despite its emotional reality.
"England would maintain sovereign independence while accommodating religious diversity through institutional adaptation rather than merely theological absolutism," Jane suggested, focusing on practical governance applications rather than indulging unproductive emotional response. "Precisely what I attempted establishing during these past months through religious tolerance policies."
Bobby turned toward her with expression of genuine pride that temporarily displaced his typical sardonic detachment. "Exactly right," he confirmed with warm approval that sent pleasant warmth spreading through Jane's chest despite Elizabeth's watchful presence. "Your reforms created essential precedent demonstrating functional governance transcending merely theological absolutism."
Elizabeth's calculating gaze shifted between them, clearly assessing their evident connection despite maintained formal courtesy appropriate to their respective positions. "The council appears remarkably receptive to these unprecedented governance concepts despite their revolutionary implications," she observed with careful neutrality that nevertheless contained subtle assessment regarding Bobby's extraordinary influence over typically conservative lords.
"Fear proves remarkably effective motivator for conceptual flexibility," Bobby replied with sardonic smile that acknowledged the pragmatic reality underlying theoretical governance discussions. "Nothing encourages administrative innovation quite like imminent regime collapse threatening personal security and prosperity."
This cynical but accurate assessment drew reluctant smile from Elizabeth despite her typically careful composure. "Practical considerations often motivate theoretical adaptation beyond what philosophical persuasion alone might accomplish," she acknowledged with dry precision that suggested greater world-awareness than her seventeen years might typically indicate.
Jane found herself appreciating Elizabeth's pragmatic understanding despite their technical competition within succession framework. Unlike Mary's religious absolutism or Northumberland's naked ambition, Elizabeth approached governance with practical assessment reflecting genuine capability beyond merely dynastic entitlement.
"What role would I serve in this transition?" Jane inquired directly, scholarly interest in governance frameworks temporarily displacing personal concerns despite her evident vulnerability within succession crisis. "Having abdicated formally, yet currently participating in council deliberations despite Mary's approaching claim."
Bobby studied her with expression she couldn't fully interpret—something beyond his usual sardonic assessment yet not quite matching the warm approval he occasionally displayed during their scholarly discussions.
"What role would you wish to serve?" he countered, creating space for her genuine preference rather than merely assigning function based on external assessment. "Your abdication reflected personal integrity recognizing Mary's legitimate claim. Your continued participation demonstrates commitment to England's welfare beyond merely personal ambition."
The question caught Jane momentarily unprepared despite her scholarly preparation for complex philosophical inquiry. What did she truly want beyond the immediate crisis? Not the crown she'd never sought, certainly. Yet something more meaningful than merely returning to scholarly isolation while England experienced fundamental governance transformation she had briefly influenced.
"I wish," she began carefully, finding her scholarly voice despite the personal vulnerability this honest answer required, "to contribute meaningfully toward governance development promoting both intellectual advancement and practical stability—regardless whether such contribution carries formal title or merely substantive participation."
"Admirably stated," Bobby approved with genuine warmth that suggested her answer somehow exceeded his evident high expectations. "Meaningful contribution often transcends formal position, particularly when institutional structures undergo evolutionary development beyond traditional hierarchical limitations."
Elizabeth watched this exchange with calculating assessment clearly comparing Jane's philosophical response against her own more pragmatic approach to power dynamics. Rather than dismissing Jane's scholarly perspective, however, her expression suggested unexpected respect for different methodology approaching similar governance objectives.
"Perhaps," Elizabeth suggested with diplomatic precision that revealed remarkable political instinct despite her youth, "Lady Jane might serve essential advisory function during transition—maintaining continuity regarding administrative reforms while acknowledging Mary's legitimate succession claim."
Jane carefully controlled her surprise at this unexpected support from someone she had considered primarily rival within succession framework. Elizabeth's suggestion revealed sophisticated understanding of governance functionality beyond merely symbolic authority—precisely the revolutionary perspective Bobby had been cultivating throughout council deliberations.
"Excellent proposal," Bobby approved with genuine enthusiasm that suggested Elizabeth had independently reached conclusion he himself supported but hesitated articulating directly. "Administrative continuity through advisory function provides essential stability regardless which claimant ultimately wears the crown."
Before this extraordinary conversation could continue further, Captain Phillips appeared at the antechamber entrance with formal bow indicating urgent matter requiring attention.
"Forgive the interruption," he stated with practiced precision balancing urgency against protocol, "but reports indicate Lady Mary's delegation has dispatched riders ahead of main force requesting formal communication regarding London's status."
Bobby nodded, his expression shifting instantly from private engagement toward public persona with seamless efficiency Jane had observed throughout their acquaintance. "Excellent timing," he observed with casual authority belying the statement's extraordinary implications. "Please inform Lord Cecil that council should prepare formal response within the hour."
As Captain Phillips departed with this directive, Bobby turned back toward Jane and Elizabeth with expression suggesting their private consultation had reached natural conclusion despite its abbreviated nature.
"It appears diplomatic engagement commences somewhat earlier than anticipated," he observed with characteristic understatement given the extraordinary developments unfolding throughout England. "We should return to council chambers where collective response can be properly formulated."
Jane suppressed immediate disappointment at their interrupted private conversation, maintaining royal composure despite genuine desire for continued direct engagement with Bobby after his month-long absence. Elizabeth similarly revealed nothing beyond appropriate dignity, though her calculating gaze suggested continued assessment regarding these unprecedented developments.
As they moved to rejoin council deliberations, Jane reflected on the extraordinary transformation Bobby had orchestrated literally overnight—converting chaotic collapse into functional governance structure operating effectively despite technical absence of established monarch. Most remarkably, he had created framework where Mary's legitimate succession could proceed while constraining her more problematic foreign alliances through institutional adaptation rather than merely military confrontation.
The philosophical implications extended far beyond merely current succession crisis, suggesting fundamental governance evolution toward what future generations might recognize as constitutional monarchy—though such explicit terminology remained carefully absent from Bobby's diplomatic framing given Tudor England's traditional understanding regarding royal prerogative.
Whatever happened next—whether Mary accepted these unprecedented constraints upon her legitimate authority, whether Elizabeth eventually succeeded her sister through similar institutional framework, whether Jane herself continued meaningful participation despite her technically diminished status—Bobby had irrevocably altered England's governance trajectory toward something more stable, more distributed, and ultimately more functional than traditional absolutist monarchy.
Jane couldn't help small smile despite the crisis continuing around them. Bobby's characteristic approach—fucking with established patterns while implementing practical improvements addressing fundamental shortcomings—manifested perfectly through these extraordinary developments.
However the immediate succession crisis resolved, England would emerge with governance structure better positioned for stability and prosperity than previously possible under traditional absolutist framework.
As they reentered council chambers to address Mary's approaching delegation, Jane noticed how Bobby positioned himself carefully—neither claiming undue authority nor diminishing his evident influence over proceedings. The crown remained symbolically positioned at table's head, authority temporarily residing within institution rather than individual person during this unprecedented transition.
"Gentlemen," Bobby addressed the assembled lords with casual authority that somehow diminished their collective status despite his formally subordinate position, "it appears opportunity for diplomatic resolution approaches more rapidly than anticipated. Let us demonstrate England's capacity for unified governance transcending merely personal ambitions or factional loyalties."