If there was one thing Lizzie hated was remembering the exact time when she heard Philip yell at her aunt and namesake, Lady Pembroke why he hated her. "I will make sure she suffers as I suffered when her mother fucked her father!"

People always told Lizzie that her father was Geoffrey Pole. She certainly took after him. Had his blond hair, his blue eyes, but they didn't have the same intensity. Geoffrey Pole was an indolent fool who would have sold his own mother to save himself.

Technically he did. When he had the opportunity to save his family and speak against the King, her grandfather, like his elder brother had done, he didn't. Instead like the sniveling, little coward that he was, he testified against several members of his own family, including his little nephew who was only eight when her guardian, the Duke of Somerset escorted him to the block.

She wondered if she would be executed if her uncle so wished. "Lady Somerset?" She asked her guardian's wife. "Will my uncle execute me too like he executed Mary's father?"

"Of course not bumpkin. You are a cute little girl. He would never dare to execute his niece."

"But I am a bastard."

"A royal bastard. Kings don't execute other kings. Your royal blood saves you." Anne said winking at her.

Lizzie wanted to ask the Duchess what she meant by that but the older woman turned her attention to her husband who slapped one of the courtiers who spoke against him for his campaign in Scotland where he slaughtered hundreds of Scotsmen, including prominent noblemen. It was well known that Edward Seymour was shy when it came to enforcing Henry VIII's treason laws against the common people, but foreigners? No problem there.

"They know no respect." Anne said to Edward that night. Lizzie dined with their children. She had grown very fond of their eldest sons because she was sure that they were Edward's, they had his eyes and his facial expressions and most of all they looking nothing like Anne.

Anne had the intention to marry one of them to her. Despite her past hatred to Edward, her children were her life, and even those that had been sired to Edward were hers and hers alone, and being the eldest she wanted what was best for them. And what could be best that a girl –who although being a bastard- had royal blood flowing through her veins?

Her brother said she shouldn't tolerate being put up in an auction bid like she was some kind of cow, but that is what women were for. She told Henry. As a girl, she had no other choice. And if Edward kept amassing more power, than it would suit her to marry one of his eldest sons.

Preferably Eddie. He was kind to her and was always anxious to hear what she had to say (about everything). You could hear a pin drop when she talked. And she'd talked endlessly about the stars, the moon, the other planets beyond their own, and finally about the past and future. Eddie was always in awe of her. He asked if she was some kind of witch and she said she didn't know. But if she were, she would use her powers for good.

The social disorganization was causing a lot of trouble for her uncle. He complained constantly about it to her. There wasn't any attraction between them, her guardian knew but it didn't make her feel any better. "Do you like my new puppet? I made it." He boasted. She nodded. It didn't look that good like the one Eddie had helped her make with Henry, but it was better than what Philip made with the help of his father and namesake, Duke Philip.

"It is for you so you don't have to be lonely at night. My uncle says that you still sleep on your own and when you don't you sleep with his wife. Is that true?" She nodded again. He smirked. "She will breed very soon you know, another one of her husband's sons. It is a miracle since half of them are his and the other half are not."

Once again, she nodded. Everything that her uncle said was in a matter-of-fact way. Nothing was childish, nothing was innocent. Edward VI stopped being a child the moment he was born, when his father abandoned him and left him at the mercy of his Protestant tutors.

She wondered why her grandfather never put a stop to it. People said that Henry VIII didn't know about his son being a Protestant but those people didn't know the King as well as she and her brothers. They had grown very close to him, and Henry VIII always came to visit them at Hudson. Henry was his favorite of course then it was her. She asked when she was four and had use of reason why he preferred her and Henry said while tucking her to sleep that because she reminded him of his grandmother, their great-great grandmother.

"But wasn't she a witch?" She asked her big brother while he placed a kiss on her forehead. She couldn't explain it, but she and Henry were always close. Being around him was toxic, she felt like she would always be protected by him and he confessed when his father wasn't around that he wished they were full brothers because he never felt as if they had different fathers.

"Yes but she made her husband and the King very happy and she was a good family woman just like you Lizzie."

"I am not good." She said lowering her head. She feared that their grandfather would die very soon. He had lived longer than he should. Last month he celebrated the fiftieth anniversary and he wasn't very pleased with the celebrations. People bragged about how good he looked for his age, but the truth was that he looked very haggard and his Queen, Kitty Howard didn't help matters by pressing him to visit all the family. Their grandfather was a sweet old man, who could have grown fat and tired but "sex" he boasted to the Duke "was the best medicine".
Lizzie had no idea what "sex" was but she heard medicine was some sort of magical potion and therapy that helped the body heal. She wished she could find a way to help her grandfather live forever. She didn't want him to die. He had his bad temper, but at least he didn't speak ill of their mother when she and Henry were present. "If grandfather dies then Edward VI takes the throne and if he dies, Philip takes the throne and neither of them like me or you." She added the last part in a small voice.

Henry looked around to see if no one was listening, and figuring that the coast was clear, he lay next to her under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. She was hugging her doll she named Marie after their mother. Her pretty dress and red hair had been thanks to Henry who let her borrow from his allowance. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise." What about you? –She wanted to ask but then he closed his eyes and sleep soon overtook her as well.

That had been two years ago, one year before she and Henry were confronted with the terrible truth about their parentage. She dumped her Marie doll and pulled all the ribbon and red tresses from her hair and Henry dumped her in the chimney. The two watched as the wretched doll burned. They swore that if they ever had a daughter they would never name her Mary or marry someone with relatives named like that.

She wasn't sure Henry would fulfill that promise. Not naming his daughter Mary? Probably. Marrying someone who was name that? Not likely. Her darling brother was smitten with the Seymour orphan whom the Duke had taken into his household (against the Protector and his wife's complaints when they filed for custody) and every day she heard from the Lady Somerset how she was growing to be just as mischievous as her father and of the mind of her mother, to let herself go for handsome rogues. Lizzie liked her. It was a shame that she wasn't placed with them, because the two would have more time to play together.

"The Marquis of Northampton, Sir Thomas Parr tells me that your half-brother is growing very fond of Jane Grey. She is four years older than him, you know? But if he wants her, then he can ask for her hand but I heard he is too shy."

Philip Jr. was always too shy. He had other ways of getting what he wanted.

"My ministers say that I should look to Cleves or even to some noble woman in Bavaria or your stepfather's family, the Wittelsbach clan to find him a bride. It will seal a good alliance with the Protestants. It will be like my father's old minister Cromwell always wanted."

"What about France?" She asked delicately. Her guardian didn't have trouble hearing her opinions but he always cautioned to thread carefully, reminding her that her uncle was his father's son. "Don't get fooled by that serious face and charismatic smile. You know what happened the last time we had a King like that. Half his people ended up starving and then everyone praised him because they believed someone else was to blame." Lizzie knew that but she had to ask because the king wasn't just saying these things because he felt like saying them. He was testing her. For what? He didn't know, but she wasn't going to disappoint him.

"The Viscount Lisle says I should look elsewhere to France but France is a Catholic country and I would rather choke on sand than go back to all those useless alliances. Just look what it did to your grandmother, a girl from a backwater country with no education marrying a prince of the highest blood and higher learning and not surprisingly she was not only unable to keep up in the education field but in the bedroom as well." He said with a hearty laugh.

Lizzie wanted to tell him that her grandmother from what she heard from Lady Somerset who had served her, was ten times the woman any of her successors could have ever hoped to be, even Kitty Howard whom her aunt and namesake Bess revered as if she was the second coming.

"I can see that it hurts you. That's alright. I've always figured what people think, anger is a strong motivator to get them to say and act ridiculous, the fact that you can keep your composure tells me that you are not as dumb as Philip says, or you are but you are too frightened to say anything."

"Why did you call me here?"

Edward's sadistic smile faded. "Your beloved guardian loves you in ways he has never loved everyone. I see it. You imagine he is the father you never had. He would've disappointed you, believe me, just as he disappointed me. I am His Majesty and yet he treats me like a child, but you a simple bastard, he pours all his secrets and pushes his eldest son with Anne –a bigger whore than his first wife- in your way so the two of you can fall in love and marry. Very touching …but …" he paused. His smile returned. "… very stupid."

Lizzie bit her lip, she was trying very hard to resist the urge to punch him in the face like she tried every time she saw Philip bullying Henry after the Duke of Bavaria broke the news to them, or even Henry as she noticed how he was becoming more and more like the Duke and less like the big brother who coddled her and she used to love.

"Just what do you think you will do … bastard" He said, emphasizing on the word 'bastard' "when he dies and there is no one around to protect you both? Edward Seymour Jr. isn't like his father and rumor has it that his eldest sons by his first wife Catherine are his true heirs."

"That is not true. Parliament proved they weren't."

"Under the influence of their father who was the top man during the height of my father's reign but he is not King anymore. I am and once I reach the age of majority I can make it so Edward Seymour's head is chopped off and you and his son get nothing on your wedding day. You better than anyone know how quickly things can change for those on the top." He said referring to my mother.

"And that is supposed to scare me? You said it yourself Your Majesty, I am a bastard so nothing you say or do should scare me because I am used to being nothing and if I marry a nobody then so be it. A nobody I have been and a nobody I will be and nothing you say can make me feel uncomfortable."

"Perhaps not but what if I were to tell everyone about your powers?"

She furrowed my brow. "What powers?" What the hell was he talking about now?

"Don't like to me little niece. I see it in your eyes, the same witch eyes that our ancestress Bess Woodville has in her infamous portrait. You've inherited her powers and the way you've enchanted little Eddie is no secret. You've bewitched him."

Ok, now she was mad. It was one thing to call her a bastard, to remind her of how insignificant she was, how her mother had cheated on her husband with some random guy who she only knew the truth who he was, but it was a completely different matter to accuse me of witchcraft.

And as if that wasn't enough, what he said next infuriated her even more.

"When you were practicing dance lessons with my aunts, I heard what she said in your ear when I was pretending not to hear and pay attention to one of Bess' jests. 'Be proud of what you are child, the world will never forget, so don't show them shame. Show them valor.' You were so delightful, like a little imp dancing and twirling and then when you tripped and cried for your fake mommy Somerset to come, no one paid attention to the blood dripping from your knee except me. I saw how you closed your eyes while you covered it with your hand and then there was no blood anymore."

"Of course there wasn't! Because I covered it and wiped it with my hand!" She shouted.

"Last year after you were moved to the Somersets, I visited my uncle's house during the winter and stayed there for an entire month and saw how objects moved, how you wished for something. 'The maids treat me bad, I wish they'd gone' and they became sick or too lazy and they were dismissed. Admit it Lizzie, you a witch."

"No!" She couldn't believe what he was saying. Could she? Yeah … She had done those things but they weren't intentional. It was just coincidence that Allison Abrams got sick and the kitchen master who taunted her for being a bastard Luke Hans' suddenly forgot how to cook or do anything except speak. Things like these happened all the time. People wished bad things on others and sometimes they happened, it didn't mean they had special powers.

But here was Edward VI, dead convinced that she was a witch. It was up to her to convince him otherwise. Otherwise it's my flesh being roasted at the stake.

"You fear me don't you?"

"That happens when you are being interrogated with a little prick who thinks he is above the law."

"I am above the law bastard, because I am the law. No one answers to anybody except to me. I am God's representative on Earth." Lizzie laughed. "You don't believe me. Fine. I can make things easy for you if you follow my orders. Anne and you won't have to worry about money and you can marry your Eddie. All you have to do is be my little spy in my uncle's household."

"No."

"It's unavoidable you know. They are going to topple him very soon and I will claim to be the victim as I always do and they will cut off his head, imprison your fake mommy and you will go back to being the Duke's unwanted brat my stupid sister begat from some random bloke. What do you say?"

He offered her hand. She was tempted to take it. Me being married to Edward. Mrs. Edward Seymour. Baroness, Countess, Duchess! It was such a beautiful thought. I can have whatever I want. And he would never have to know. It would just be the two of them. But then she thought about their faces when they did find out. Because these things had a knack of revealing themselves in the most inopportune ways. And what would they think of her?

People could call her many things, she could handle it, but traitor was something she could never live with. So she shook her head again.

Edward VI got up from his throne, and told her to get up. He was disappointed. He dismissed her and she went back to Lady Somerset and told her everything he told her.

Anne just smiled at her then looked to her husband who smirked. "Aren't you scared?"

"My sweet girl, if we were scared about every little threat that little boy makes we would be powerless by now. The boy craves power, he is a boy-King, let him have his little temper tantrums if it makes him feel good. He can't do anything against us."

"What about Dudley?"

"Dudley is a fool whose followers are more fools who think he is some poor, misunderstood fool. And Gardiner is a worse fool for thinking that Dudley will make things better. He is just an imp from the Pope."

"Dudley?"

They both tilted their heads at her as if she was seriously asking that question and when they realized she was, they barked in laughter. Well Anne did, the Lord Protector as always was more reserved.

"No child, Dudley can claim all he wants but he will never obtain the crown. Not now and not ever. Henry VIII appointed me head of the Regency council." A lie, but one Lizzie chose to swallow. "He has ambitions, everyone has ambitions, but my place will always be by the King's side. Gardiner on the other hand is a sniveling fool who courts whoever he thinks will benefit him. He is the imp of the pope and our mortal enemy."

Lizzie nodded. She wondered if the rumors were true that besides the courtier he slapped last week, he had punched the Bishop of Winchester hard in the face when he had been just Earl of Hertford.

Edward crooked his finger at her and beckoned her to come. She sat next to him, in between him and Anne.

When her mother had been alive, Edward plotted all sorts of plots against her. He couldn't stand the poor pity-me face of that royal bastard every time she walked in the room, treating everyone as if they were beneath her. Edward knew who Henry Tudor-Wittelsbach (whose last name as his eldest brother Philip Jr. had been added before the Duke so the Tudor name could be on in case something happened to his royal nephew) father was. He never revealed it though. If something happened to his nephew, then Philip would become King and as hand of the former King, he would pick him to be his next minister and if that failed then Edward would depose him in favor of his younger brother who was far more popular with the nobles and commons and who was his aunt's favorite who was also another commons' favorite.
He reeled when she heard her screams of pain as she begged him to remember her daughter's name.
"Her name is Elizabeth!"
Edward didn't need to be reminded. Of course the royal bastard would name her after the sister whom she loved and looked after, after her mother was beheaded. And now she would be. Ironic –he thought at the time. Alas! God was merciful to her. He took her before the axe sliced through her pretty little head.

Edward mentally smiled. He always had a weakness for red-heads but unlike his brother and father who fucked everything that moved and made no secret of it; he did. When he found that his wife had survived giving birth to one of his brother's bastards, he was disappointed. This was around the same time that the Duke had been brought to St. Omar after he had been wounded in battle. He hoped that both would die and he would be free to marry the Princess Mary. To him, she would always be royalty. He didn't care that she was fucking Eustace Chapuys, as long as he had her, nothing else mattered.
But fate once against intervened. His wife survived and so did her husband and when he found out from that half-French girl at her service that she was still fucking the Ambassador, he grew angry. And he turned that anger into vengeance when he questioned that girl again, and told her to be frightened, to act like her life was at stake. It didn't take too much acting, Edward had a way of scaring people. They said that his cold blue eyes were his toughest feature. Cold, son of a bitch they called him. He didn't care. The girl said what she had to say, and knowing the Duke of Bavaria was hearing, he asked her again and this time she responded louder about how the Duchess was secretly seeing someone behind her husband's back.
It didn't take long for the idiotic Duke to put two and two together. The imbecile girl didn't know whom her mistress was sleeping with but the Duke did, and the revelation that she had betrayed him (again) was enough to set him on fire. The rest as they say is history. They both got what they wanted and he got to see three lives destroyed, including Lizzie's real father who no doubt was left scarred by the fact that his offspring were being raised by his rival, and the woman he loved died giving birth to Lizzie.

If Eustace Chapuys is worried about something happening to them, he shouldn't be. Henry wasn't treated like a king after the Duke for no reason told him and his sister the truth. He wondered when he'd found out but that was of no consequence. Henry was still his best tool and showing him love, was the best way of making the boy more loyal to him. And as for Lizzie, Edward and Anne had made a home for her after the Duke expressed he no longer wanted to take care of her. At first Edward thought he would hate her but his heart soon softened when he saw the girl. Anne's daughters, including theirs, were all past the age of nine and ten at the time, they hardly spent any time together so when Lizzie came along she immediately took the girl as her apprentice and bought her all kinds of clothes, including headdresses and necklaces to make her look more like a little princess and less like the bastard everyone mocked her for.

"What about what my uncle said?"

"What about that?"

"He said that Dudley and the Marquis of Northampton and many others are conspiring against you and they will take you down at the first chance they get and all he has to do is act as a victim and get everyone to do what he wants."

"He can try. My nephew is not that clever as he thinks he is." Edward said. "Don't worry Lizzie, we will keep you safe, I promise nothing bad will happen to you."

Those were the last words she heard coming from the Duke of Somerset and the Lord Protector's mouth before they came to arrest him the following day. He sent his twelve year old son to his youngest brother Sir Henry to persuade him to send troops but when he got there, he found his uncle had already made a deal with the rebellious lords and took him as the rest of his family prisoner.

Lizzie returned to the Duke's care. Back to the shoutings, back to the abuses and back to the misery. Her only refuge was Henry, who still managed to see her from time to time when the Duke wasn't around. He had changed. He was not the cheery big brother who had comforted her in her sleep when she was five. He was still playful, but he was also cold and distant and he only had eyes for his sweetheart, Mary Seymour.

During this time, she developed an affinity for sewing. Kitty Howard who visited them often to give tons of gifts to Henry and Mary, was a master at sewing, so was her aunt Elizabeth. So Lizzie asked them to teach her. They did, Kitty reluctantly at first until she was convinced by Bess. This helped her mend her clothes, modify them and also keep the ones that had been sent by Lady Somerset who was currently a resident of the Tower of London. "Dear Lizzie" she wrote "know that you are not forgotten. This is just a setback. They may have taken my husband's head and they will –make no mistake- take my half brother, Michael's head as well but they will not take mine or any other member of my family. The Duke of Northumberland as he likes to call himself now, though, if I am to be completely honest, your uncle elevating him doesn't make the man any nobler. He will always be grease to me but anyway … He will never manage to take my pride and in the end that is all that matters. Pride. Never forget what you are. Edward never told you the truth about your father but you know that already and although that might make you think 'I am not royal enough' don't let it bring you down. Your mother descended from two royals, she had the blood of Welsh Princes, Spanish Kings, English Kings, French kings. That legacy is yours now. Don't waste it. Always fight, always hold your head up high and never let anyone tell you, you are less than them. Do you hear me? You are not less than anyone. Your dearest friend, Anne."

A teardrop fell on the piece of paper.

Anne was right. She wasn't going to let anyone bring her down. She was the daughter of Mary Tudor. A whore. A bastard. But Royal nonetheless. And her blood ran through her veins.