Old King Henry VIII was slowly making his way from his bedchamber to his study, finding this simplest of journeys a struggle as he hobbled on his sore leg. He was starting to feel his age now, he knew he didn't have much time left, but he was determined to escape the cold grip of death for as long as he could. Nostalgia was starting to set in now. He had remembered the days when he would walk this way as a youth and not even think about it as he glided inbetween the rooms. He had always took his youth for granted. He remembered laughing at More and Wolsey when they told him that age caught up with them all in the end. Yet it seemed that even they had aged far more gracefully than he ever could. Perhaps it was because he never gave them the chance to grow into the comfortable old age he had enjoyed. The simplest of activities like walking down a hall now caused him great pain. But he was nearly there now, and he felt great triumph when he managed to get his hand against the door and pushed against it. It was a sad moment, he thought, that once such a powerful man now found glee and happiness in opening a door with the aid of a walking stick.

He shuffled across the study and let the servant in the hall shut the door from the outside. He liked to be left alone when he was reading his letters. But he couldn't even do this anymore without the aid of his spectacles. He took them out of his draw and slipped them over the bridge of his nose. He felt he had lost all his dignity in old age. One by one he went through his letters, marking the letters which he would have to reply to and applying the royal seal on petitions. This was one thing he would never miss! He was getting towards the bottom of the pile, and was reading a letter from the ambassador of France, when he noticed the room had darkened slightly. Were his eyes failing him once more? He couldn't bare the thought of going blind, but perhaps that was to be his punishment from God for being so covetous. He looked up and above his glasses and he swore he could see a dark figure standing in the middle of the room. His heart was beating madly against his chest as he took the taper on his desk and held it up.

"Surprised to see me, husband?" the figure spoke in a low, soft voice. The figure took a couple of steps forward so they were standing in the light, and Henry nearly dropped the taper on the floor in fright when he realised who it was. Catherine!

"This cannot be, I am dreaming" Henry said in disbelief, rubbing his eyes as though he expected her to dissapear as he did so. Catherine, Infanta of Spain stood there dressed in the elegant clothes of gold and black that she always wore in life. She looked thinner than he remembered her, paler, more tired, but there was no doubting that it was his Catherine. Her dark hair slighlty grey but her light eyes sparkling as always.

"You always were good at convincing yourself with your own lies" she smiled at him, and Henry stood up, taking his walking stick and moving as far away from the ghost as he could though never taking his eyes of it. He didn't know if that was because he wouldn't or couldn't.

"Well then…if you are real" though he was still certain that she wasn't, "What do you want?"

"Justice" was her simple reply. Even the most simple words sounded beautiful in her Spanish accent. It was one of the many things that he used to find so attractive about her when they were younger.

"Justice?" he puzzled, genuinely confused by what she meant. She looked down and shook her head in disappointment and disbelief.

"You treated me despicably when I was alive. I did not deserve what you did to me. You knew that I was telling the truth, that I was your true wife. You knew the great devotion and love I bore you, and yet you treated me worse than a rabid dog" she passionately proclaimed, though without a hint of bitterness in her voice. It had seemed she had come to terms with what he had done to her, certain that a greater power would punish him in a more suitable way. But Henry did not take this accusation lightly and he interrupted her.

"That was your own doing, not mine! If you would have submitted yourself to me I would have provided for you!" He defended. He knew he was right too, he did the same for Anne of Cleves who was gracious enough to subject herself to him.

"And have my daughter declared a bastard? Never! You knew I told the truth and I only went against you for my daughter's rights. And look at what you did to her. You punished me through her, what sort of father are you?" she accused and Henry looked down sheepishly. Guiltily.

"I...I..." he stuttered, he was speechless. He always was bad at arguing with Catherine, even ... the great whore... had told him as much. Never get into an argument with her because she would always win. It infuriated him even more because he knew what she said was true. But he would never admit that to anyone!

"And what about how you treated your other women?" she continued, "Your concubine didn't last long did she? I told her to expect as much but she was too self absorbed to believe it. But even I would have never wished that fate upon her" she told him with solemn eyes, and she bowed her head in respect to Anne.

"She deserved it. She was a whore! She and her cousin, the whole family were villainous" Henry roared. He couldn't believe that Catherine was standing up for that whore who had replaced her. He didn't like to admit it, and was too proud to ever say it out loud, but he had regretted annulling his marriage to Catherine. He went through all that fighting and heartbreak to marry that witch and what did she show for it? A useless daughter and dead sons. He believed with all his heart that she had seduced him with witchcraft. But if he would have held out against her and waited for Catherine to die of old age, well, everything would have been different. And he knew that Catherine had always loved him, loved him more than she had ever done anyway. Catherine looked back up at him and pointed an accussing finger at him.

"You knew she was innocent, just as you knew I was a maid upon our marriage. And the Howard girl was just a child who didn't know any better. She did nothing more than what you did to others and yet she had to die for it" she announced. Now she had brought up a sore spot. Katherine Howard's betrayal. Nothing wounded him more than knowing that she had fooled him into believing she loved him only for her to rip his heart out when he discovered that she loved another.

"Enough!" he warned.

"And what about poor Jane?" Catherine dared to go on, but she was immediately brought to a halt.

"Don't you talk about her!" he told her through gritted teeth. Yet she still continued,

"I approved of her greatly. She showed much kindness to your daughters and all she wanted was for the world to be a better place" she soothingly told him and images of his beloved Jane filled his mind bringing him somewhat into a safe haven. His darling Jane, he remembered when she brought Mary and Elizabeth together for Christmas. Her warm smile and eyes full of kindness. But he was brought crashing back down to reality as she went on, "And what did you do to her? Threaten her with her predecessor's fate when all she wanted was for you to show mercy. How can you say you loved her?"

"I did, I loved her more than all the other's put together!" he defended, getting more angry with Catherine in death than he ever did in life.

"But did she love you?" Catherine simply questioned, and immediately Henry's heart sunk as he tried not to think about what she said. He couldn't bare to think of any answer other than yes, his heart would break if he did.

"She did" he shouted, though more to himself than Catherine, who stood still and smiling at her husband, "Stop this, stop this now!"

"No one loved you as much as I did. The poor Cleves girl didn't stand a chance. You humiliated her! And Mistress Parr! You bullied us all and still expected us to serve you. More fool Jane for doing it. You did not deserve her" she said softly than there was a moments silence in which the two observed each other, and Henry noticed that Catherine's eyes began to narrow in contempt at him and for the first time ever she shot him a look of pure anger, "You did not deserve any of us"

"ENOUGH!" Henry shouted, not being able to take her cruel words or cruel looks anymore. He slammed his hands over his ears so he would no longer have to tolerate the sound of her voice and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, hoping to God that she would soon disappear. He kept on repeating himself over and over again. It was only when he felt it had been long enough that he dared to open his sapphire eyes, one by one and saw his manservant looking at him curiously.

"Sire, who are you talking to?" the servant asked. He had heard his master shouting and raving from outside and had dared to enter, only to find him with his fingers in his ears and his eyes scrunched shut. When he opened his eyes, he looked at him startled but then after a moment of looking around the room he became more stable and merely dismissed him without a second thought.

I swear he's losing it, the servant thought.