February 1537
Another log was thrown on the fire. The flames engulfed it, devoured it, and then were quickly dying again. Anne calculated that at least another four logs would be needed to stop the chill altogether. There were only two left.
With her allowances from the King’s treasury cut almost by half, Anne had already been forced to get rid of a large percentage of her already small household. The kitchen had lost two maids and one cook. Anne’s household staff now consisted only of one page, one cleaning maid and one stable boy. Her household of nearly fifteen had been cut down by more than half in a matter of weeks.
Now she could barely afford firewood.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8JwXaUtxwZ
The castle was too big; it was far too expensive to heat it all so she tried to stick to only one room. It wasn't lost on her that the castle was still, technically, the king's. And yet here he was, forcing her to pay for its upkeep.
A knock on her door broke her from her thoughts.
“Ma’am?” Her page said, opening the door a crack and sticking his head through the gap.
“Yes?” She asked wearily.
“You have a visitor.”
“A visitor? What time is it?” She asked incredulously. It was already dark outside. Far too late for visitors to be calling.
“Nearly eight o'clock ma’am.” He replied. Sensing that Anne was about to tell the visitor to come back in the daylight hours, he said quickly: “It is the Lord Privy Seal.”
Anne cursed under her breath and reluctantly nodded.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL3sMUHIwxX
“Send him in.”
The page nodded. Anne heard his footsteps hurry down the hallway and in the few moments she had before Cromwell arrived, she composed herself, contorting her face into the clean slate of nonchalance she had perfected over the years. She cast aside the itchy woven blanket she had over her lap and pinched her cheeks to bring a little colour to them.
“My lady Anne,” Cromwell said cheerily as he entered the room. She hated him for it.
“Cromwell.” Anne said bluntly. “As much as I enjoy your visits, I do so often wonder at what prompts them.” She settled back in her chair, watching as Cromwell took the seat that he had not been offered.
“I realise the hour is quite late. I was rather worried that you would have retired to bed to save on firewood!” He said with a smirk. “I know resources are becoming…scarce.” A glint in his eyes ignited Anne’s anger. He had the nerve to come into her home - the home she swore he had put her in - and criticise her lack of firewood?!
“Spit it out, Cromwell.” She said darkly.
Cromwell’s own eyes darkened, and he reclined in his - her - chair. He brought his hands together, absently tapping the tips of his fingers against one another.
“I was heading in this direction and took a detour to deliver to you the King’s news.” He said with a smile. His eyes scrutinised her, leaving her hanging onto his words. “The Queen is expecting a child.”
Anne remained silent for a moment. She did not envy Jane Seymour, but yet somewhere deep in her gut, there was a niggling feeling. Something akin to jealousy was working its way through Anne's body, its cold, icy fingers lingering in her chest and leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She did not envy Jane... but there was something Jane had that Anne wanted
"It is early. She may yet miscarry.” Anne replied as nonchalant as she could manage. "Or Henry might grow bored of her and have someone make up a casket of lies about her, too." She added bitterly.
Cromwell tilted his head a little. A curious expression crossed his face.
Anne gave a small, biting laughed. “She can have Henry. She can carry his child and she can wear my crown if she must. He has rid himself of two wives already. Why should he not rid himself of her too?”
“You know as well as I, Anne, that imagining the downfall of the king or queen amounts to treason.” He said. His tone was light, but beneath his words lay a thinly veiled threat.
“Get out.” Anne said bluntly. Her tone was harsh and scathing, her eyes brimming with contempt.
With another one of his small smiles, Cromwell bowed his head and swept from the room with an air of majesty that, by rights, should never have belonged to the son of a blacksmith.
Summer 1537
Jane Seymour was still with child.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS4DSOEJXGu
Thomas, her dear Thomas Wyatt, kept her as informed as he could. Each note he sent brought fresh images in her mind of Jane Seymour wearing jewels Anne had commissioned herself, sitting on gorgeously upholstered furniture in cloths Anne had chosen. She hated Jane for what she had taken from her... but in no world did Anne want it back. Just the memory of Henry's disdain when she miscarried his son was enough to turn her stomach. He was a cold-hearted bastard, and Jane would be under enough pressure to crack her bones. God be with her if the child in her belly was another girl...
She sits on the throne regally, but she does not endure pregnancy with the same grace as you once did, my dear Anna. She stays indoors, mostly, and takes up no public audiences. Her confinement is not due to commence until September, but you would be forgiven for thinking that it has begun early. She has become like a ghost.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrLlgrLg5c0
I shall be visiting you soon, Anne. I have some news that I must deliver you. Until then, I send you my best wishes and love,908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiqRVByGZJ4
Thomas.
She held his letter tightly, clinging to this latest piece of the court. She'd discovered long ago that life on the periphery wasn't for her. She waited with baited breath for Tom to arrive, her mind racing imagining the wildest scandals to keep her busy.
When Thomas came, she saw him approaching through a second floor window. She recognised the way he sat on his horse, the way he held his reigns, the way he dismounted and took off his riding gloves.
“Thomas!” She said cheerfully, taking the stairs two at a time in order to meet him in the outside courtyard. Oh, how she had missed her Thomas!
“My lady Anne!” He said once he had spotted her. “Your beauty has not diminished by all of these months in exile.”
Anne smiled, knowing that it had. Her hair didn't shine as it used to and she quite thought her eyes had lost their sparkle. She couldn't remember the last night she had slept without waking up shaking, convinced she was back in the Tower, waiting for death, visions of George's execution fresh behind her eyelids.
“Life has been so dreadfully dull without you.” He said as Anne linked her arm through his, almost bouncing as she led him inside.
"Not all that dull I hope! You have news to tell me, remember?" She said with a grin. Had she been looking, she would have noticed the slight falter in his step, the flicker of guilt flash before his irises and the single nervous twitch of his lips.
But Anne had not been looking, and she continued inside, oblivious to the hammering of Thomas' heart besides her as it pounded in his chest.
Once inside, Thomas sat down on a carved wooden chair next to the window.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaqatXpZaOn
He was entranced by the view from the window, the rolling hills and sprawling fields that reminded him of long, lazy days as a child at Hever. Anne was only a child then. George was too, but then, so was Thomas... Mary was older, and she was usually inside, receiving instruction on how to be a 'proper court lady'. Thomas doubted those lessons had taught her how to bed a king.
“What are you thinking of?” Anne asked, sitting in the chair opposite. Thomas was broken from his reverie and blinked twice to dislodge the image of small, childish Mary and even smaller Anne from behind his eyelids.
“Your sister.” He said simply.
“Mary?” Anne asked with a surprised sort of smile. “What on earth were you thinking of her for?”
“The fields outside reminded me of Hever. That reminded me of you and I and of…George. And thus, we come to Mary.” He explained, pausing for a mere moment at the mention of George’s name. “I was wondering where she learnt to entice kings.”
Anne smiled wryly.
“Perhaps if I had learned to entice kings the way Mary did, I would be married to you by now instead of in exile in Wales.”
“Perhaps.” He said softly. A sad sort of smile played on his lips.
Anne reached across to place her palms on top of Thomas’ hands.
“Let us speak of happier things Tom.”
He nodded, not meeting her eyes.
“The news I spoke of... I fear you will not like it.” He said gently. Anne shrugged.
“I've learnt to live with things I don't like." She said with a laugh, motioning with her hand to their surroundings.
Thomas nodded, and glanced out of the window once more. He still couldn't meet those dark eyes of hers.
“I am in love.” He said shortly.
Anne blinked. “I see.” She replied after a moment.
Offering a small smile, she pressed a gentle palm to his cheek. Sure, she was put out at no longer being the sole object of Tom's affection, but she had only ever loved him as a brother. She could hardly expect him to never love another, and God knows she had hurt him enough in the past that he deserved true happiness.
“Anne, you know I shall always love you. But I cannot… you and I… we can never be.” He said with a shake of his head.
Anne nodded. Her expression softened as she looked into his baby blue eyes and saw in them all the guilt and sadness he felt.
“Don't feel guilty, Thomas! I am happy for you!” She replied. “Tell me about her.” Anne insisted. Thomas smiled.
“Her name is Elizabeth Darrell.”
“Darrell? The name is familiar... Who is she?” Anne asked curiously.
“She was a maid to Katherine of Aragon. She, ah… she refused to recognise you as Queen.” Thomas said somewhat shyly. Anne laughed. Oh, the irony!
“How the wheel of fortune turns! I bet she laughs at me now.”
“No. She speaks little of the past. She knows it would be dangerous... Henry watches her like a hawk.”
“Henry watches her? He has been married to Seymour for little over a year and already he is watching other women?” Anne said. She wanted to laugh - it was so typical of the king. He would covet something for so long that once he had it, he no longer wanted it.
Thomas raised his eyebrows and Anne laughed.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJSWnaQaexy
“It matters not. I am happy for you Tom, really.” She said with a smile.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3RoH6KxqwJ
“I know.” He said simply.
Thomas left all too soon, and Anne was left alone once again.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaCOIXm5e2Z
Despite her loneliness, or perhaps because of it, she felt almost delirious. She could not stop the laughter that erupted from her chest when she thought of Henry, sitting on his throne growing fatter and fatter, his eyes undressing almost every pretty young woman in the vicinity whilst the wife he had sworn was so much better than Anne sat by his side carrying his child. If the child turned out to be another daughter, Anne knew that Henry would lose interest in Jane Seymour just as quickly as he had lost interest in her, and Jane would fall onto the growing pile of women Henry had discarded.
The thought of Henry’s unhappiness triggered a laugh that would not stop until she had retired to bed, and even then a stray giggle escaped her lips as she covered her face with a pillow to muffle the sounds of her joy at the King’s pain.
October 1537908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0tQFFriXG9
908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM2hIja5XbU
It was the start of October when Anne saw Mary again. A considerable amount of time had passed since Anne had last seen her sister, but unlike the last time, Mary did not come alone. When she crossed the threshold into Anne’s courtyard, she did so holding the delicate hand of a small ginger-haired child.
Anne almost thought she was hallucinating. She felt the intense need to sit down, or get some air. After well over a year, Elizabeth had grown from a small two-and-a-half year old to a bouncy girl just turned four. Around her neck was a pearl necklace that Anne had given to Mary before the day set for her execution, and at the bottom of the pearls hung a delicate golden 'A'. Elizabeth wore her mother's necklace, and the sight of it around her daughter's neck was enough to make Anne weep.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTJ1I9FC3MT
Anne sank to her knees as soon as the pair were inside and took her daughter in her arms. Elizabeth’s chubby hands wrapped around her mother’s neck. Stray tears escaped from Anne’s eyes as she held her baby daughter close to her chest.
“Look at how you’ve grown! My darling girl, look at you!” She said, pulling Elizabeth away so that she could look at the child properly. She pinched Elizabeth’s cheek and the child laughed. She had Anne’s intelligent, dark eyes but her father’s fiery red hair. She may be Henry’s daughter on the outside, but on the inside, she was entirely Anne.
“I thought it would be safe to bring her to you, what with the king distracted by the Queen’s pregnancy.” Mary said with a smile at the reunited mother and child.
“I would get rid of everything and live in poverty if it meant having Elizabeth all the time.” Anne said with a smile on her lips as she looked at her daughter.
“You know Henry won’t let that happen.” Mary said.
“I know.” Anne said with a sad shrug. "How did you get Elizabeth here? Won't he find out?"
A small smile lit up Mary's face.
"No." She said simply. After a curious look from Anne, she continued. "Let's just say someone has organised something within the king's household. They won't stop you seeing your daughter, and they'll keep quiet about it."
Anne thanked god silently, starting to believe that her prayers were being answered. She was truly happy for the first time in months.
One week later, Anne heard that Jane Seymour had given birth to a boy. Edward.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMnV5kVk5E0
Both Mary and Elizabeth were now out of the succession for good. Edward would be king.
Anne felt sick to her stomach at the thought of how Henry would gloat if she stood before him now. How he would sit on his throne as she remained on her knees and how he would laugh a cruel laugh that reached those beady eyes and vibrated the fat that had gathered beneath his chin. He would lord his new son over the daughter Anne had given him and he would brush off Elizabeth as he had done Katherine's Mary.
Anne hated him for his happiness. She hated him for many things, but perhaps it was his joy that angered her most.
But his gloating would not last long. Only a few weeks later, Anne received another letter from Thomas.908Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4vb7DNloMJ
The Queen was dead.
