The day following the traumatic event was September 19th of the year 1730 and a large part of the population, unaware of what had happened was preparing for Christmas.
In this time Isabelle began to complete the last trifles of the wedding, which would have took place exactly at the same time as the long-awaited Christmas Eve.
There were only three more months left, from a wedding that had been preparing for some time, and on that day she and Gilbert would be officially together and so he would have become her prince consort.
Thus the English now had two reasons to celebrate: first of all Christmas and secondly the long-awaited royal wedding.
On the other hand, they could not get married, since Gilbert belonged to a lower noble rank than hers, so the coronation of the latter would have taken place on the 23 December: two days before the wedding.
But all the young noblemen and young ladies who remained there, by order of Isabelle, were not thinking at all about the marriage of their princess, but about the death of the young Thomas Cross.
Most of them were sad, others were frightened to the point of having anxiety that the hunt could have begun for them too.
So obviously no one was more concerned about marriage than about their own life.
They knew that now that the tragic fact had happened they would no longer be allowed to leave the royal territories or run away, as they would have paid with their lives for treason.
They were all trapped there with no way out.
Why was Isabelle doing this?
She had Gilbert representing the Isle of Man and secretly Wales, Francis carrying blood from the Orkney Islands, Juniper representing Scotland, Abigail belonging to Northern Ireland and the two Dustin twins from Southern Ireland.
Could that possibly be a representative act? To make it clear, for example, that every different part of the United Kingdom was subject to the English crown?
No one knew it, no one exactly, as they all feared for their lives.
Johanna Cross, mother of the late Thomas, stood in front of his tombstone in the company of her eldest son Francis.
She stood there, she contemplated the precious marble tombstone that had been placed on the hill above the body of her son.
She was tired and she felt as if she didn't want to do anything anymore, as if her life had ended with that of her youngest son.
Johanna stood there now, with her pale face covered by a thin black veil, and her long brown hair tied in a low ponytail running down her back to her lap.
She wore a long black dress and so was her son by her side: dressed in black jacket and pants.
-He is dead- commented the woman, not waiting for an answer -I can't believe I can no longer see him...hug him...all this is very sad-.
Francis to her right nodded slowly, lowering his gaze.
-Thomas was my brother, I loved him very much, he did not deserve to end like this, nobody does...- commented the young man letting a lock of his wavy brown hair fall on his shoulder.
The woman took a white silk handkerchief from her hand and wiped away some tears.
-He was still very young, he should have turned thirteen in a few months- Francis repeated whispering -but why, mother? Why throw him out of a window? What was the motivation?-.
The woman seemed to understand what her eldest son meant, and she therefore decided to reveal the whole truth to him.
-Thomas was the king's son, he had royal blood running through his veins-.
Nothing changed except for a long and unexpected silence.
All around them there was silence: they were far away from the castle, which from that majestic landscape, covered with fallen dry leaves seemed almost much resized.
They stood there, the son's body was a little taller than that of the mother and they stood there together under the bare and old shrubs.
Soon behind them the crunch of the dry leaves grew louder and louder.
They both turned in fright not knowing who was approaching.
They saw the queen behind them: she was distraught, wearing a majestic dress with colours tending to grey and black.
Her brown hair was partially tied to the nape of her neck from the sides of her head, while the rest of her wavy hair ran down to the middle of her back.
Her face was pale, gaunt, tired and tears were running down her red cheeks.
She walked keeping her dry lips parted.
So seeing her one would almost say that the woman was going to lose consciousness at any moment.
At the sight of the queen both, mother as son, took a pained but respectful bow.
Soon the woman almost fell into the arms of her dear protege, she squeezed her hands covered by light black silk gloves in a sad greeting.
-Johanna, I wanted to join you to offer you my condolences- the queen admitted returning to shake her hands.
-Thank you from my heart, Lady Katherine- the courtesan brought one of her hands to the height of her heart and with love placed it on her chest.
The woman lowered her gaze again, then raised it in Francis's direction.
She was able to understand in the young man's eyes, how much anger and hatred he felt.
-I'm actually really sorry for what happened- she apologised again to the lieutenant -I'm really sorry...-.
Francis gritted his teeth and looked away, almost unwilling to accept her apology, however the queen understood his pain.
-I was hoping in every way to communicate with you privately Johanna- asked the lady placing again one of her delicate hands on the shoulder of the friend, with almost maternal affection -this time I hope to be able to speak openly: not as a queen to her courtesan but rather from mother to mother-.
Illuminated by the pale and dull light emanating from the closed gray clouds of the sky, Johanna gestured to Francis to move away, in order to let the two women talk together privately.
He immediately understood what his mother was trying to say to him so he took the opposite road to the castle, allowing himself a thoughtful and long walk inside the bare Mill Garden.
As soon as his silhouette disappeared beyond the hill, the dialogue between the two mothers began.
-I confessed everything to Francis, I confessed Thomas' whole identity- Johanna admitted moving a long lock of brown hair onto her back -I didn't have the strength to lie...not anymore-.
The queen took a look of relief on her face and slowly placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.
-You did well, now nothing is left to hide, now that poor young Thomas has been killed everyone will know what monster my own daughter has turned into- commented the woman drying her eyes with the help of a white handkerchief.
At that statement lady Johanna could not help but nod. She felt compassion for the queen but she could not forgive the person who had taken her son away from her.
-I know what it feels like to lose a child, I know it exactly...- said Lady Katherine holding her hands together.
At that statement Johanna Cross curiously turned her pale face towards the other woman.
She noticed that suddenly the pitying face of the queen had taken a melancholy turn.
Her eyes were humid as her long wavy light brown hair fell sadly down her back.
-I was only sixteen years old then, I was still so young...- the queen began her story with tears in her eyes -and I was given as a bride to the widower king of the Netherlands: William IV who was then already in his forties- commented the woman looking up from the ground.
-William was neither good-looking nor with a good character, but he was still my husband and I knew very well that I would have never returned to London, my hometown- Lady Katherine continued to tell, turning her gaze to the void and letting her own tears dry on her cheeks -and it didn't take long after the wedding that I got pregnant with a baby, who was born on March 8th-.
-What was the name of the baby? -The courtesan asked lightly, intermingling her own words with those of the queen.
- His name was William, my first husband wanted to call our son by his same name - said the woman looking at grieving Johanna, who still silently observed the tombstone of her recently dead son.
-William from his side grew to become the most beautiful young man I had ever seen: he took my character and my passion for the arts, as well as my appearance, except the dark brown colour of the hair and the grey colour of the eyes that he inherited from his father- the queen commented with notable nostalgia in her saddened gaze.
-But this did not please his father, who had received the long-awaited male child to make a strong and proud soldier out of him, he decided to bring him to his side in the expansionist campaign of Holland- commented the woman starting to cry all her tears - you don't know how long I have waited for my son's return, to the point where a letter returned to me announcing the death of both my son and my husband, on the border of Germany-.
Johanna Cross lowered her gaze, too committed to her personal melancholy before she can feel any kind of empathy.
Lady Katherine looked away from the courtesan, over the horizon towards her castle.
-It was the saddest experience I ever had- she confessed as cold tears fell from her eyes -but if all this had not happened I would not have married the King of England and I would not have become queen...-.
-I wish I could be as strong as you my lady- Johanna commented at her side starting to cry -but for me this is a wound that will never heal...I'm afraid- she admitted taking and crossing her arms one inside the 'other.
-You are a queen lady Katherine and no matter what may happen, you will always find a way forward, but I am nothing more than a courtesan, the last heir of a noble lineage now gone, if I lose Francis too, then I would find myself in poverty- Johanna commented still thinking about how the future could continue to unfold.
-You don't have to fear for this- the queen reassured her friend, exchanging a pained smile with her -as long as you are under my protectorate no one will be able to hurt you, not even my own daughter-.
Johanna smiled lightly: she hoped so much it could be like this, she hoped so much to be protected by the crown, but now that was only an illusion because Isabelle had discovered her illegitimate love story with the king, the princess' father.
Johanna loved to hope but in that situation she knew that she was lost.