There are several things he could say but he stays silent. As does Morrígan. She stares him right in the eyes, unflinching, stubborn, determined. He is slightly amused and interested in just how long this woman is prepared to play this game. If she has come to negotiate, she does not look like somebody in an inferior position. Thus, true to his usual mercantile bullying he must surprise her with something. Preferably now.

'Theastaigh uaithi bheith ina banríon ach ní mar a shíltear a bhítear,' his Gaelic has seen better days, but this... This must have been a quote from somewhere, for it slipped onto his tongue so readily from the depths of his perfect memory. People have always been unprepared for him speaking in their native tongue.

He watches the expression on her face change from confident to utter surprise and then back, all in a split second.

'I have no desire to become a queen whatever it is my name says,' she speaks at last and smiles slyly. 'The king cannot get a divorce for the sake of Lady Anne and I am just a daughter of a commoner.'

'A blacksmith's daughter, perchance?'

'They say my father was a soldier. They also say, my mother ate him alive, a rumour she did not wish to deny.'

He likes her.

'Pray do not mention this to Thomas More. He might just believe that.'

'Considering your own reputation, he'd better,' she stays serious, but her eyes twinkle still. He really likes her. 'My mother sure would not care. She is ten years dead now.'

'My lord cardinal would not allow a woman...'

She breaks him off, just like he intended. 'I did not come to the cardinal. You probably are the only person in England who thinks his days are not yet over. Instead, I came to you. You allowed your daughter to study Latin and numbers, you judge people by their merit and my qualifications are most satisfactory, for I have studied law and trade and philosophy.'

In response to the question he does not voice, she concedes. 'Posing as a man.'

Instead he asks. 'Where?'

'All over,' she shrugs. 'Across the Narrow Sea. South, west, you name it. Sometimes I was discovered, sometimes I got bored, so I moved on to the next place.'

He thinks of his daughter Anne, her beautiful Latin texts, her stubborn eyes, her wish to marry Rafe Sadler. If only Anne had been older. If only Rafe had been younger.

He knows Morrígan will not be thwarted. Contrary to what she claims, she already is a queen in her own right, a queen over her own life. And he cannot even imagine what price she had to pay for that in a world where men are quick to rape, beat and dismiss into submission. He also knows she will never tell him.

It will be scandalous, dangerous and compromising, but he will take her. She will have the name of Cromwell and she will be the best advisor he could have wished for. He saw it in her yellow witch eyes. Oh how Thomas More will like to see her burn! But they will all learn to fear her. Her journey was more perilous than his own, so she became a wolf of a woman. People say he looks like a murderer, but she definitely is one. And so, surprisingly, he likes her even more. He wishes to become a man of king's peace, thus it will be prudent to have a woman of war by his side.

'I have to offer you a marriage and you have to accept it in order to live and work at Austin Friars.'

"'Tis most thoughtful, truly," she bows sarcastically.

He motions her into the study and sees her eyes light up. He remembers Anne and smiles, before he turns around to address his new assistant.