"How I love thee…"

Those simple words, painful, beautiful, and captivating, echoed around Anne's cell.

Yet, they weren't so simple as they were complex…

Anne looked up from where she was sat, thinking of such things, and towards the only window in her cell.

She got up and walked towards it slowly, as if frightened it would disappear into another dull wall.

She reached the window, and slowly extended a hand, to grip the frame.

She closed her eyes and then opened them again, expecting the window to have disappeared, like everything else she used to have…

***

It had been another wonderful hunt; Charles had caught three deer and a bunch of other game.

Together with his three servants he helped to hurl the game into a cart, pulled by one of the spare horses.

He smiled, contentedly, feeling much stronger already, but then he glanced at one of the fine deer in the cart, the one that had a pale fur almost, the one that had a delicate tear across it's neck…Charles lost himself in Anne's face then, her perfectly curved eyebrows, her hooking eyes, her pale complexion, her beautiful and full, but thin lips, then her slender neck…

Charles shook his head, to clear himself of his fantasy, he shouldn't think of her now…especially her slender neck that, like the deer, was soon to be torn.

He turned from the cart, and mounted his horse, keeping his eyes and his thoughts on the path ahead.

Charles soon arrived back at his residence, and leaped from his horse, almost racing inside his house, he didn't want to set eyes on that deer again…not until he had calmed down…

Charles entered his dining room, and took a seat at the head of the table, as always, he tried to focus on the intricate patterns of the tapestry opposite him.

Suddenly, his son, Henry, came bounding in, Charles grinned, as his son sat beside him, and started chatting, aimlessly about his day of hawking and jousting.

Henry was his pride and joy, a product of the short but beautiful marriage to his beloved Princess Margaret.

Margaret…how he missed her, he had to admit to himself that no woman could compare to her, excepting Anne…Oh Anne! Why did I have to do this to you? Charles screamed in his head, now focusing only on his thoughts.

It was true, he had caused all this, he had taken Henry to Wolfhall, hoping to set him up with one of John Seymour's daughters…

He did it because he wanted Anne to himself, or he could see that Anne was unhappy with Henry, but whatever his reason for doing it, he didn't dream it would end so badly.

He thought Henry would be kind, and divorce Anne, like he had Katherine, but no, he had accused her of false charges, imprisoned her…and now thanks to Henry's nature, and his own stupidity, his beautiful Anne was going to have her head cut off….

Charles thought back to when he had first met Anne at the masquerade…

**A memory**

"Right, Lord Charles Brandon, you stand here!" Shouted the annoyed man who was trying to get them organised for the masquerade, later that day.

Charles did as he was told, rolling his eyes, making Henry laugh, who was standing next to him.

"Now…Lady Anne Boleyn, stand here…opposite Lord Brandon, please,"

Lady Anne did as she was bid, and quickly glanced into the face of the man opposite, Lord Brandon…

Charles looked at Lady Anne with interest; perhaps he could add her to his schedule.

"Now, practise the dance, like I told you yesterday!"

Charles took Lady Anne's hand, as they started to dance.

He smiled at her once, but her eyes fluttered quickly away from his face, and stared past his shoulder instead.

Charles decided to focus on the dance instead, the quicker he got it done, the quicker he could leave…

**End of memory**

Charles shuddered, what a ladies man he had been then, and so cold too!

Charles woke from his thoughts when Henry's chatter suddenly stopped; he looked at his son, who was staring at him, eyebrows raised.

Charles attempted a half-hearted grin.

Henry stayed with his eyebrows raised before continuing with his story.

Charles breathed a sigh of relief and tried to focus on what his on was telling him.