The Lucky Boleyn
Growing up, you always envied her. Though she was the younger by several years, her flowing raven curls and dancing dark eyes; the inner confidence that she seemed to have been born with made her magnetic in a way you would never be. Everyone liked her best. Papa. Mama. Your younger brother George. Madame Marguerite. Even Queen Claude and Princess Renee; the quietly staid Queen and invalid Princess of France preferred her quick wit, cruel though it could be, to your unfailing charity and sweet, willing nature. Too willing, perhaps, for your own good.
Back in England, things were no better. Though she disgraced herself with her failed betrothal to the Earl of Northumberland's heir, all too soon, she was back at Court, replacing you as the Court favourite. And the King's.
His Majesty, who once held you dearer than anything else in the world, who once told you he wished that you could be Queen for all the days and not just one day by the river, discarded your golden kindness for her glittering onyx wit and perseverance. And you envied her. With the inborn rivalry of childhood, with the bitter resentment of any fallen sweetheart, you envied her. You wished it was her curtsying to you; following the hem of your gown, instead of the other way around.
But then, suddenly, one morning, you realised you were wrong; that you were the lucky one. You saw how much it cost her to be the best of the best, the brightest star in a Court full of fawning nobles competing for attention; the prettiest flower in a garden full of English Roses. You saw and realised that you would never have wanted to be like that. You would never have wanted to be fighting all the time; fighting just to keep what you had. A pleasant marriage to a kindly noble, grand or not, with children was all you wanted. And, with your sister so on the rise, who was to gainsay that? You might be the King's discarded harlot, but you were also a Boleyn and Boleyn blood was worth a lot these days. You'd get your husband and your family, there was no doubt of that.
Yes, you were indeed the lucky one, Mary Boleyn. You were the lucky Boleyn.