She told her brother she would marry the old French king if he gave her one promise. He promised. She sailed. She kept her word. The question was whether he would keep his.
She was seven when her father died and the king sold her wardship to a man who would eventually decide to marry her himself. She was fourteen when that happened. She had no say in it.
Her daughter was queen for nine days and beheaded at sixteen or seventeen. Frances Brandon attended to the consequences, settled the estate, and remarried within months. She lived for another decade. History has never quite known what to do with her. Neither, probably, did she.