Anne sat in the dark chamber alone. She leaned up against the cold walls the room and reflected on what had brought her to this point. She supposed this room was the best The Tower had to offer, with its rich furnishings and warm fire in the corner, yet it was still nothing more than a prison cell. The solid locked door with bars wouldn't let her forget it.
How could she have lost everything so quickly? It seemed like such a short time since she was the center of court and the beloved sweetheart of King Henry. How quickly his love faded for her when she had failed to follow through on her greatest promise. Despite all she had gone through, she still found herself unable to be disappointed in her darling Elizabeth. The little girl was so intelligent and beautiful and kind and Anne loved her fiercely. She was the product of the great love shared between her and the King- conceived at the height of their passion for each other. She was a true mix of the best of her parents. It was clear that if Elizabeth had been the boy she promised England, Anne would have been secure on the throne for the rest of her days, but Anne was still proud of the beautiful girl she was and the lovely woman she was sure to grow into. Unfortunately, Henry obviously didn't feel the same.
As the man who had been the center of her life for years filled her thoughts, Anne choked back a sob. She had heard the accusations that were thrown at her and she couldn't fathom that the man she loved believed those vile lies. She knew that things were not well between them. She knew that her sharp tongue and jealous behavior had worn on their relationship. She knew that he preferred spending time with that boring, moon-faced, Jane Seymour. But even with everything that had soured their marriage, she couldn't believe that Henry thought her capable of sleeping with those other men-of sleeping with her own brother!
Again, her thoughts brought tears to her eyes. Poor, poor George. What did he ever do to deserve this treatment? He had always been steadfastly loyal to her, always cheering her when the weight of her crown got too heavy. She prayed that he was being housed as comfortably as she, though she doubted it. She was the Queen of England and she couldn't do a thing to help her siblings. She lamented again her treatment of her sister-cast off from the family and all alone with no way to provide for her small children. Anne swore to herself that if she managed to live through this ordeal, she would reach out to Mary.
A banging door down the hall from her room startled her from her thoughts. The sound of footsteps outside made her heart beat faster. Was this the end? Were the heavy footsteps coming to tell her of her fate? Anne could barely hear the lock of her door clicking over the pounding in her ears.