Anne Boleyn: The Blood of a Queen
However foolish Katherine may be not to surrender her title as Queen and refuse Mary's bastardy, trust Anne to play the bigger fool.
She should have known, from the way Henry treated the Spanish infanta that she would be cast off once the King realizes the silence in the royal nursery. Perhaps she had known all along, but failed to acknowledge the fact that his love for her was not as strong as hers for him. Henry loved, and with that, he loved with a consuming passion – a fire fueled by his longing for a son, a son who would bear the living image of his father, and the hope of the Tudor dynasty. His desire for the survival of his kingdom and everything his ancestors have worked so hard for became a hunger he was prepared to go incredible lengths to satisfy. Incredible lengths indeed, if he was willing to set aside a loyal wife and cut off the head of his beloved sweetheart and queen.
But 'beloved' doesn't apply to her anymore. That title, hard to admit as it may be, is now being held by the Seymour wench. Jane was cunning, applying the same methods Anne herself had learned to perfect: playing the opposite of what the King had. Katherine of Aragon, born to be a Queen, was exactly what one should be like: subservient, proper, and willing to turn a blind eye against her husband's unfaithfulness. Anne definitely deserved a raise of the eyebrows. Graceful and alluring, she had come straight from the arts of the French court and into the arms of King Henry VIII. She used her exotic belle to capture the King and place him in her hands while he, on the other hand, placed her on a far more significant pedestal – the English throne. Anne used whatever it was that she had to push her to the top; Jane Seymour used the same thing to push her off it.
Jane was submissive whereas Anne was headstrong and self-willed, an English rose where Anne was a dark and mysterious beauty. Anne was astute and opinionated, and Jane was just as indifferent as expected of a model wife and mother. Simply put, when placed beside Anne Boleyn, she was dull. But she was a breath of fresh air, and that was all that mattered to the King.
She cannot believe Henry would be willing to pull all the stops to place a plain Seymour on the throne. He might as well have given the throne to any woman fertile enough to produce a living male issue. Jane wouldn't have mattered much in the political world anyway. Unlike Anne, who was a staunch supporter of the French and had connections within the French court, Jane was English born and raised. If she had not managed to catch the King's eye, nobody would even give her a second look.
Jane Seymour would be the Queen of England not because she had won the title, but because Anne lost it. They had both served during Katherine's reign, and although Henry was madly in love with Anne, if Jane was truly as remarkable as Henry had made her out to be, he would've been swayed by her charms. But Anne had a powerful hold on Henry, a hold that weakened and slipped from her hands as their children's lives slipped from her womb. It was only because Anne had failed in securing the heir that Henry had wanted that Jane had been given a double take. The King wanted a boy to fill the nursery, and Jane Seymour was his method of achieving that goal.
Anne was intelligent, but the knowledge of how her life at court hang in the balance alluded her until the last minute. It could be easily chalked up to her naivety in believing Henry loved her above all others – after all, Henry was not the only one who loved. He was her true and humble servant, until she had displeased him with her jealousy and miscarriages. Katherine had a lot of supporters, which meant Anne had made herself a lot of enemies simply by wearing her crown. Spain's daughter had earned a spot in the heart of the English people, and it was their loyalty to their former Queen that branded Anne as the concubine and the royal harlot. England's devotion to the infanta was a huge mar to Anne's crown.
It was her shortcomings and her enemies seeing Jane Seymour as the window of opportunity that had sent her to the block. Henry's signature on her death warrant was as good as having him give her the chop himself.
What had hurt the most was not knowing Henry had allowed such injustice to be committed against her, her to whom he had pledged his loyalty and undying devotion. It was living her last hours worrying about her dearest Elizabeth, hours she should have spent in pious surrender. His Majesty was not only adamant in dissolving any connection he had with her, but had even gone through the cruelty of depriving Elizabeth, his own flesh and blood, of the luxury of living the life she was born to. Anne would have accepted her own death, if only that meant she could cross the after life content in knowing her precious daughter would be spared from her father's wrath towards her mother. Anne knew that Henry could not deny that Elizabeth is her father's daughter – she had the temper of a Tudor, and was certainly as beguiling as one. Elizabeth may not have been England's Queen Regent (not that she does not possess the requirements that goes along with being a ruler in her own right, but because of the line placed by her sex), but Anne would've been appeased with thinking her daughter could have been the consort of another country. Now that Henry condemns his marriage to her mother, everything Anne had been resolved to believe in was just that: a could have been.
Anne was certain Elizabeth would be a better ruler than any king Henry could hope to have with Seymour. Perhaps even be a better ruler than her father. She hoped His Majesty could see that, too. But Henry, in all his obsession with keeping the Tudor blood alive with a son was as blind as a person born blind. His hankering for a Prince of Wales to follow after him was depriving him from seeing Elizabeth as more than 'just' a daughter. She would make an excellent Queen someday, if she could get her hands on a crown. But Elizabeth had inherited both her parents' strong will – she had, Anne was sure – she would somehow end up on a throne. And when that day comes, when Elizabeth would rise from the ashes of her mother's downfall, Anne would smile up from the heavens. Her death, and the agony that preceded it would all have been overshadowed by the reputation of having mothered England's greatest Queen.
The blood that she, former Queen of England and Marquess of Pembroke in her own right, would spill would not have been for nothing. Anne's blood would have been well spent.
She would be as her motto implied: Anne Boleyn, The Most Happy.
A/N: Thank you for reading! :) Constructive criticisms are greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Showtime and The Tudors, and English history. The author does not claim ownership of any of the characters mentioned.