CHILD'S PLAY
Anne Boleyn's bratty behavior means trouble for her sister Mary - trouble she can't resist! I do not own these enchanting characters. Please comment nicely!
"You didn't!" Mary Boleyn's big blue eyes were full of fear.
"I did." Dark and daring Anne Boleyn smirked at the look on her baby sister's face.
"But Queen Katherine will find out!"
"Not if you put it back for me, she won't. Do it now, while the old girl is asleep."
"But if she wakes up . . ."
"She won't wake up. Silly baby! Go on, get going. It's child's play." Anne handed Mary the tiny silver bottle, which both young ladies-in-waiting had been eyeing for days. Anne swore it was filled with perfume, something rare and costly from Arabia. But Mary insisted it was filled with water, Holy Water from the Well of St. Dunstan.
"Why should I put it back?" Mary whined.
Anne didn't answer with words. She raised the back of her hand instead. Her sweet baby sister flinched involuntarily.
Unlike noisy Anne, Mary understood how to walk and speak softly, to make her presence as quiet as a whisper. There was no reason she couldn't creep softly into the royal bedchamber while the queen was taking her afternoon nap. Katherine of Aragon was a large, heavy woman. She slept deeply and snored loudly. It was child's play, just like Anne said. Child's play . . .
"Who is there?" The queen's deep voice sounded horribly loud in the sleepy stillness of the bedchamber.
"Please, Majesty, it's only me!" Mary's voice was the squeak of a mouse.
"What are you doing? What have you got there?" Katherine of Aragon was like a cat, quick and graceful despite her bulk and all her years. She rolled off the bed and got her big paw down the front of Mary's dress, seizing the tiny silver bottle that the frightened girl had hastily concealed between her breasts.
"It was a mistake! I thought it was perfume, Your Majesty! I swear I thought it was perfume!"
Katherine frowned. "You are the good Boleyn girl. The sweet and quiet one. You did not take my Holy Water. It was the other girl, the one with the wild fire in her dark eyes. It was Anne!"
"No, Your Majesty, I swear! It was only me, Mary!" The pretty blonde with the big blue eyes readjusted the bodice of her dress. It was hard not to feel a little shaky. The queen's groping fingers had just brushed against her breasts, pinching her nipples in a way that brought back wicked memories of the French court.
The heavy, dark-haired queen looked deep into the frightened azure eyes of the golden-haired Boleyn girl. "You have always been afraid of your sister, is that it? She does bad things and you take the blame?"
Mary blushed. "Anne's not really a bad person," she said, feeling guilty. "It's just that she wants so much from life, and she must succeed at everything. Our father . . ."
The queen brushed aside her words. "I am interested only in you. You have served me for weeks. You did not really think the bottle was perfume, did you?"
Mary lowered her eyes. The queen was so religious and so uninterested in vain things like clothes and perfume . . . and handsome men. "No, Your Majesty," she whispered.
"Then how are you to repay me for the precious Holy Water you have taken?"
"I . . . I don't know, Your Majesty." Mary couldn't seem to think clearly. Her eyes dropped to the wooden crucifix that dangled between the Spanish queen's full breasts.
"Foolish girl." Katherine of Aragon seized Mary's slim white hand in a tight grip, pressing it firmly against her very impressive royal bosom. "It is child's play."
As her eyes closed and her lips met the queen's, Mary thought she heard the mocking laughter of her sister Anne.