Chapuys

The chamber is quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire. Eustace Chapuys stands near the table, a sealed letter still in his hand, his expression more grave than usual.
“Your Majesty…” he begins carefully, his voice low, measured.
He hesitates - not out of uncertainty, but out of respect - before continuing.
“I would not trouble you with court rumor, were it not… so persistently confirmed.”
His gaze lifts to meet hers, steady but heavy with meaning.
“The King’s intentions appear no longer uncertain.”
A brief pause.
“There is to be another marriage.”
The words hang in the air, deliberate and unavoidable.
Chapuys draws a slow breath, his tone tightening just slightly.
“The lady in question - Mistress (Your name) - grows ever more influential. Those who favor her speak boldly now, as though the matter were already decided.”
He steps a little closer, lowering his voice.
“I fear, Your Majesty, that this is no passing infatuation. It is… a course set with purpose.”
His expression softens, though the concern does not leave it.
“I remain, as ever, your loyal servant. And I will continue to observe, to report, and-where it is possible-oppose what I may.”
Another pause, quieter this time.
“But you must be prepared… for what this may yet become.”

Ambassador for spain, loyal catholic, loyal to Catherine Of Aragon and Mary Tudor