I know I am not much longer for this world and its worldly pleasures. I know that my time has come to pass and the knocking of my demons taunt me as I lay fragile and small, in the large bed of state. I cast my thoughts back and remember the few sparks of my long life I care to keep locked safe in my heart. The events that made me into the women I became. It is not long now I know that I will lose the battle of body over mind. I will myself to fall into the embrace of death and have no desire to stand and fight against this mortal coil as I would have done years ago. Years ago when I had the strength to fight. Now though I find weakness is my common bedfellow. As well as the taunting head pains that cripple my mind into submission and force my heavy eye lids to close on this world only to open again and feel the pain worsened. My thoughts trail one part of my life that I believe made me who I am. Being the Queen, Queen of England Anna Regina made me more fiery and determined than I thought was possible. Being Queen brought me many joys and sorrows. My sorrows primarily caused by actions toward the man that installed me as Queen, my joy brought about my now beautiful daughter who is married and safe from the claws of this foul court that stained my life.
The event that I think squashed any spirit I had remaining in my body was the 19th of May, 1536. That day brought the true meaning of horror into my life. I remember it as well as I would remember this day and it haunts me. Making my blood run cold as I remember.
Taking my steps into the crowd I keep my face as still and motionless as a statue. I refuse to look about me into the scathing faces of those who have come here to watch me die. I refuse to acknowledge this day as anything more than another. I take my steps counting them in my mind. One, two, three, four. I feel as if I am not walking and an overwhelming urge takes over me to run. I clench my hands in the soft cloak I have put around my shoulders to fight against the early morning chill. I let my eyes focus on one object in front of me. A looming scaffold, men solemnly waiting for me to join them. My ladies behind me are as composed as myself and I silently thank Cromwell for choosing these ladies. They may be spies but they have nought sympathy for me which makes departing this life easier. I take the first step up to the scaffold, and glance down on the wood noticing the blood stains that seem to have drenched into the wood and will remain there until it is burnt. Innocent men's blood have seeped into this wood, my brother is with me even now. A smile manages to flicker for the briefest of times on my lips as I realise I will die with his soul beside me guiding me. I count these steps as well, the soft sound of my footsteps offer a noise to drown out the deafening silence that has overcome this crowd. When I am at the level of the scaffold I look toward Mr Kingston. An old man that has clearly seen too much bloodshed in his life time. He has told me my death will be swift and I will feel no pain but he never readied me for what I must do now.
I turn and face the crowd the sound of my dress moving the straw that has been put down in order to gather my blood rings in my ears. I wait for the silence to be adequate enough and then speak ''Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die' I keep my hands clasped before me and scan the people that have come to my beheading. I hope to see my father though I realise he would not have risked coming here. He did not watch his son die why would he find it a good pass time to watch his daughter die all for his ambitions. I clear my throat and find my words begin to tremble though I am certain I will finish what I have to say for the good of my daughter. 'but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul.' I look amongst the crowd once more and then take a purse of money which had been given to me by Henry and dispense three gold coins to the crowd. I stand and place the rest of the coins but four to the executioner. I move toward Mr Kingston and I find myself frightened by his eyes. They are welling with tears and he clasps my hand
"Malady May you find peace after all your sufferings" I nod to him and smile before turning and starting to undo my necklace and earring. Uttering words of 'please keep them' to the ladies that help me shed the heavy cloak that seemed to have gained more weight by the second. My strength draining from me. I stand and look at the executioner before I kneel in the straw my eyes closing at the shudder that rushes through me when a blindfold ties snugly around my eyes. I tense up ready for the blow at any second. My thoughts racing. If only I could have held my daughter one last time' I think time and time again.
"HALT!" a booming voice echoes throughout the tower green I know the voice well enough to tell it's the Kings. I stop myself from moving I remain as still as I can be. Like a doe would be after hearing such a noise. I breathe in and the sickly smell of iron turns my stomach. I can hear the gasps and exclamations from the crowd and find myself wondering and nearly hoping about the intentions of the king. Will he cut off my head himself? Does he loath me to that much of an extent? I feel tears welling in my eyes and blink the fabric of the blindfold cause the tears to be caught and my eyes sting from them. I feel two hands trying to pull me up. My legs cannot find themselves and I am yanked harshly into the air my feet barely settled on the wood before the blindfold is torn off of my eyes and I look up at my saviour.
My eyes sting even further when I glance to him. Henry. The man that trapped me for ten years with his promises of love, marriage and the crown, the man that insistently chased me and longed for me but once he managed to catch me, he grew tired so quickly that I was led to believe he clearly never loved me to the extent that he claimed in his ardent love letters to me. His eyes, round and questioning, command in the orbs of sweet sky blue that could turn to ice in an instant, his lips pursed in concentration. I wondered for a moment what he could see in my eyes. Was it fear? Or joy? I had no comprehension of what I would look like too him. My thin figure having reseeded so in the weeks I spent in the tower so that my cheeks were sunk against the bones, my eyes darkened by the days of crying and fear. His hand on my shoulder was that of a comfort too me. So much of a comfort that I felt my tense body, one that was ready to be destroyed and probably forgotten or even shown off to the London
commoners that hated me so much, finally relax under his touch. I breathed in daring myself to make a noise and I could smell him, the smell of rich fine wine, thick gravy's, sweet confections, horse sweat and his own mingled in my nose and sent me into a state of utter panic. My eyes wildly searched his and then to the crowd. I turned my head to the executioner who now had the sword in hand and I found myself reaching for Henry clinging to the chains that hung around his bulked up form. I breathed him in finding myself wanting only to remember this. His touch that was once so cruel to me now touching me as if I could break like the confections made from sugar he would lavish upon me. The crowd grew restless waiting and watching us both. A monarch and a condemned Queen gazing at each other as if the world had disappeared just for that sweet and bitter moment. " Cromwell the papers" Henry's voice ushered to the now cowering man that stood behind him meekly clutching a large book of papers. My eyes watched as he passed two crumpled papers to the kings waiting hands. He stood back from me now and stood as tall as his form would allow and scanned the crowd before he started to speak.
" This pardon goes unto the lady Anne Boleyn. All accusations and evidence against the lady have been false and she is now a lady of the land in her own right. All charges are to be forgotten by the order of King Henry the Eighth, King of England, Wales, Ireland, and France" his words echoed around the shocked crowd and many of them gasped as he uttered my freedom for all of them to hear. He switched between the papers and now turned to me. " Lady Anne Boleyn you are reinstated with the lands and title befitting the marquees of Pembroke and henceforth will be paid one thousand crowns per annum to sustain the household of your choosing..." his words continued from somewhere but all that I could hear is my innocence has been proven. I am free? My brother had died for this, my friends as well, my father has abandoned me and my sister would never forgive me for my actions toward her. Now he frees me? Now that I have lost everything that I actually had in my possession? Now that my heart has been torn from my chest and I had made peace with the idea of death that had haunted me since I was sentenced. I stared up at him and felt my legs begin to give way underneath me and then darkness. Terrible frightening deadly darkness shrouded my consciousness and a thud echoed through my mind.
That day, when I was pardoned by Henry in front of my enemies and the people that wanted me to die, that wanted me to feel the sting of the sword as it sliced through my neck, was the day that begun my new life. I was given my estates back which helped me fund for everything I could have desired. I was cast away from court and forced to remain in my lands but I was never alone. Henry, having named my daughter as a bastard had given me permission to take Elizabeth with me. We lived well enough for seven years, until Elizabeth was ten years old and I received a summons from the court. Demanding I return with the lady Elizabeth to show her to her father.
Arriving in the city that once hounded at my heels for my blood, I look around at the grim sight of London. Burnt out churches are the norm but I find myself pulling the curtains of the litter shut to hide the sight of once a grand city so fallen and wretched. At the age of three and forty I still feel as if my life is ahead of me. I want to watch Elizabeth grow up and now she is at the age I can consider a marriage match for her. Who would have her? I look at her and smile her cheeks are red with excitement, she wants to peak out at the people that watch the litter, with the state crest on it go by but I pull her too me knowing her copper locks that now fall down to the base of her back will be far too easy recognisable. Her eyes search mine and I smile as I hold her "not long now sweetheart then we'll see papa" I move to the curtains as I hear the man guiding the litter call back " My Lady we are here" I push the door open and step out. I have worn my best gown for travel. Part of me vainly believes Henry has called me back to be his next wife. Why would he not? He saved me years before now? My gown is made of damask, the corset with perfect detailing of pearls. Precious stones have been sown in around my bust . My hair is fuller than it has ever been and I have hidden it under a French styled hood of dark black silk, my dress crimson. My pale figure looking ghostly but luring at the same time. I look at Elizabeth in a Tudor green dress with the crest of her family on the corset detailing both her father's house and my own. Her hair caught up under a simple coif. I look around me. This palace has failed to change even in all of these years. I look above the gate and notice the new symbols, those of Katherine Parr, and Henry. Mine have been destroyed. I force a smile on my lips and look toward the doors expecting the king to come and greet his daughter or at least send someone to find me. Elizabeth restless beside me looks at me in an agitated silence. She is as anxious as I am feeling and I silently curse Henry for making us wait here in the cold of January. By the end of the evening servants will know I am in the palace and all of London will up rise and string me up. I take Elizabeth's' hand and lead her into the palace. Looking from side to side. Having entered the way the Queen would I glance up and joy fills me as I notice, small though it is the symbols H&A entwined together chiselled in rock. I lead Elizabeth to the audience chamber sure that Henry will be there awaiting me. As we walk, I see a tall lady with blond hair approaching me. She smiles at Elizabeth and then looks at her ladies to leave her. In a pang of jealousy I notice she is wearing the royal jewels. The Queens jewels. She must be the new Queen.
"Lady Pembroke" her tone is unreadable. All these years away from court I have grown accustomed to the people that serve me and they are my friends and have no other intention than to serve me and my beautiful daughter. I fall into a curtsey and then rise back up when I feel her hand touch my shoulder. " You have arrived in time" She says slowly. " The Prince and Princess are already here" I can tell by her look of knowing that I must look confused. She takes my hand " The King..." She pulls herself closer " He is dying. He is sending us away from him I do not believe that he will make it past this month" My heart falters to each of her words. I once believed, childishly I admit but I believed Henry and I would die together and we would end up arm in arm unafraid of the world around us just longing for the peaceful peace that awaits us all after this long lasting life. I look at Elizabeth who is happily fiddling with my dress skirts now. The pearls on them cold in her hands and she looks up at me with longing. " We must go to him he has demanded to see you he will not let death take him until you have seen him" she sighs " I will take Elizabeth to meet her brother and sister if you would like?" I move my head numbly and she takes Elizabeth's hand. I cannot look at my daughter I find myself hating Henry. How could he call me here to witness his death? Is this is last piece of revenge?.
I remember the halls and quickly find my way into the audience chamber outside the Kings private chambers. The men in this room are those I could never know they are all new to power though with a fleeting glance I see Edward and Thomas Seymour. Eager and biting at the nib to become the protectors of Henrys too young of a boy to become a king. I mutely move to the dark wood door that looms over everyone as they enter. I walk into his room and have to stop myself moving for a moment I breathe in and I find myself sickened as I smell the putrid smell of rotting flesh. I look at the mass on the large bed and have to compose myself I sigh and walk toward him. I sit on the edge of the bed letting him feel me move the bed with my weight. His eyes flicker open and I look down at him tears already in my eyes for him. He is too young to die. How could a king as great as him die? I look at his face, the skin has swollen up with years of gluttonises eating and no sport I had heard rumours, though now seeing him in the flesh makes those rumours sound like fairytales. His eyes open and I can see the effort that he is making in even moving. I press two fingers to his lips to stop him from speaking and he moves his lips in an attempt to kiss my skin and I find tears slipping down my face and dropping onto his skin. I watch through tear filled eyes and I breathe in very slowly not believing that this is even going to happen. My heart hammers hard in my chest hard enough to make me feel as if it is going to break from my chest and my life will be robbed from me now and we may die together.
" I am.." his voice wheezes and I reach for a pewter cup to help him drink some water. He looks gratefully into my eyes and smiles weakly. " I am making you Queen Regent" he mutters in a shaky voice " I have done this in secret only my trusted ministers know this will happen. Katherine is.." he coughs and grasps at his chest for a moment before he continues. "Katherine will be sent away Elizabeth will be the heir to the throne" I listen silently to his delirium saying no words, moving naught. "You can re..Remarry or live your life as a widow" he grasps my hand. I feel his greasy fingers drag over my flesh a ring being slid onto my finger. In that moment I realise that these seven years have meant nothing and my life, that was going to be destroyed and taken from me cruelly has been bestowed onto me once more.