Hello guys! English, it is not my motherly language, I'm French so I apologize if there are some mistakes. Don't hesitate to tell me where they are so that I can improve.

I am quite stressed, since it is my first fiction with Anne Boleyn, and I like her so much that I don't want her to be involved with a written mistake.

I hope my little story will please you..

Sincerely
Marina Ka-Fai

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I thought you knew

« I did nothing to you! I was innocent! All the accusations against me were faulse. » She shouted towards her living husband

« ... »

« I thought you knew. » She finally whispered

Anne was utterly dissapointed. How could he still have doubts? She thought he knew. She was certain that he was aware that he was condemning innocent people. She never slept with one hundred men, she never slept with her own brother! In the end, she did not fear, she did not mind being killed. She was certain that Elizabeth would be her revenge, she was absolutely sure that she would be the greatest Tudor monarch. She had only two regrets in her heart when she died: leaving Elizabeth alone in this world and the fact she did not give the king the son he wanted, the son she wanted. The son that made him drag her down for Jane Seymour. She was going to realize the old legend, a queen of England will be burned. She died, convinced that she was going to die for England, that her husband did that for England, even if he knew she was innocent.

After being dissapointed, she became blasée. Henry was like that. He always was. When he was in love, the lady would be the Angel sent by God to ease his pains. When he wanted to get rid of her, she became the worst slut. Just like poor Katherine Howard, killed because she was young and in love, not made to be Queen, not ready, given to eat to the lions. Henry was like that, she knew it and yet, she could not stop loving him.

She finally went out with her famous smile, leaving him with his twisted mind.

« No, Anne, please, don't... » Henry shouted to the ghost

It was too late, she was gone. And he could not say to her that he was sorry, sorry that he doubted her, sorry that he doubted that he fathered Elizabeth. But it was too late to apologize.