The Boleyn King

Description

What if the tragic story of the enchanting, strong Queen known as Anne Boleyn had a slight twist? What if, before her beheading in 1536, Anne had had a son? How would England cope under the reign of the Boleyn King?

19th May 1536

Tower of London, London

There was not a person in England, who had all their senses, that could deny that Anne Boleyn was a strong, enchanting, formidable, intelligent woman. In fact, there were many who believed strongly that it was that reason that the Queen Consort was to die upon this day.

There were many times when Anne could claim that Henry was most cruel, yet today seemed to top them all off. For she was sent to die upon the birth date of her only son.

And yet she loved the King still. She had clung desperately to the hope that her husband would find out of her innocence and free her of the confines of the tower; that he was not so immersed with this new Lady of whom could barely write her own name upon parchment that he would set their son behind the Seymour girl's in the succession, that he would not forsake for such lies.

But that time never came and she would be to face her death upon this very day, to leave her daughter and son, dear Elizabeth and James, at the tender ages of two and one; to leave them to a world that would do nothing but whisper cruel tales of her painted as an antagonist within their minds.

With every breath she took the air seemed to thicken around her. She feared death, that itself had no doubt but nor would she go kicking and screaming, dragged ruthlessly to her death by hands and legs and taint whatever image her children would be give of her. If there was one thing any person in England, whether they supported or loathed her, could be sure upon was the factor that the Boleyn Queen loved her children.

She observed silently the stage still erect upon which her brother and assumed 'lovers' had died two days previously, her mind on a continuous loop as her beloved brother's head was hacked off upon the same place hers would soon lie.

'I love your neck' Henry had once proclaimed, yet now he seemed all too eager to have it removed.

"It is time," came the grave voice of Master Kingston as he opened up her door and gazed down curiously upon the soon to be deceased Queen Consort who had gone between accepting her death to crying in a matter of seconds within the past few days and had made the predication that it would not rain until she was released. To the woman's credit, it had yet to rain since her imprisonment yet considering the fact that it was swift approaching summer he could not find himself surprised.

She turned to him and he saw that two necklaces seemed to be clenched within her hand before she offered them to him, "give these to Bess and James when they are old enough, please."

Her words were more of a leg that request, one that Master Kingston granted as he slowly took the most beautiful objects from the woman, the B necklace that she was so famous for wearing and evidently for her daughter and a beautiful locked with a J encrusted with rubies that he had no doubt would most likely contain the only remaining version of the portrait made of Anne Boleyn, the Princess Elizabeth and Prince James in the November of 1535 within – Henry, in wild anger, having destroyed most of the portrait that so much as featured to woman slightly within.

And with his nod Anne Boleyn prepared herself to stay strong and thought of her children within every words of the speech she spoke to the awaiting crowd as she was brought to her death,

"Good Christen people, I am come hether to dye, for accordyng to the lawe and by the lawe I am iudged to dye, and therefore I wyll speake nothyng against it. I am come hether to accuse no man, nor to speake any thyng of that wherof I am accused and condempned to dye, but I pray God saue the king and send him long to reigne ouer you, for a gentler nor a more mercyfull prince was there neuer: and to me he was euer a good, a gentle, & soueraigne lorde. And if any persone wil medle of my cause, I require them to iudge the best. And thus I take my leue of the worlde and of you all, and I heartely desyre you all to pray for me. O lorde haue mercy on me, to God I comende my soule."

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6th July 1553

Greenwich Palace, Greenwich

Many crowded within the realms of Greenwich Palace, for the King was ill and seemingly soon to die. The most notable of all present were the Lady Mary, the Princess Elizabeth and the Prince James. Though the King had placed his eldest son, now of seven and ten, behind his younger brother in the line of succession he had kept them legitimised in order to ensure a safe succession of his son at the death of Edward should it happen.

The eldest of the siblings was the Lady Mary Tudor, aged of seven and thirty of whom perfectly merrily danced within the court, feeling herself so close to grasping the crown of England as her younger half-brother's health rapidly declined.

Meanwhile Elizabeth immersed herself within talking to others, the woman of nine and ten looking most beautiful as she did so, her smile – though not noticeably – however, was slightly strained. As was her brother's.

The male of seven and ten felt the gazes of many eyeing his every move, observing the man that was certain to be their next King. However not many without a distinct eye for detail could notice the strain within his eyes as he 'smiled', for the dying King had been most close to the older Prince; and now he was not even permitted to see him within his last moments, to provide him any comfort he could as his older, albeit half, brother.

Dancing, though tense and dozed with anticipation and curiosity, continued late into the evening before the physician that had attended to Edward's health left his chambers and entered the hall with a most sombre expression. Any ounce of less than joyful music was wiped away as not one courtier could tear their gaze from the man of medicine as he walked up to their next Prince, the son of the late Anne Boleyn, and took to a low bow, announcing to all of whom could hear,

"The King is dead, long live the King."

Not one person excluded themselves from the pleasantries as they took to bows, low and shallow alike, and declared Prince James Tudor, Duke of York and Earl of Richmond their new King.

This was to be the beginning of what they hoped would become a golden age, with the fourth King of the Tudor dynasty.

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19th February 1554

Hampton Court Palace, London

"Should I be concerned to the factor that I have been King for just over six months, crowned just on December 31st, and you already intend to marry me off?" James enquired idly as he gazed from face to face of the men he had appointed upon his Privy Council. Out of all of them it was the seemingly rather bold Sir William Cecil – who Bess had requested he appoint for the man's seemingly unwavering loyalty to her and Protestantism – that spoke up.

His voice was rather tense as he informed the King of seven and ten, "we made the mistake of not ensuring that your brother produced an heir to succeed him, Your Majesty, forgive us but it must be ensured that the same cannot happen again; especially with the Catholics vying for the reign of your sister, Mary or even your cousin the Queen of Scotland."

Not a man upon the council could deny any truth to the man's words, them too having heard of the uprisings in favour of Catholism that needed to be dealt with – an English Heir could produce hope of just that.

James had no longing to be married off, nay, he was rather fond of being just him on his own; but nor could Cecil's remark be ignored, "and of whom is it that you are inclined to marry me to, Sir William Cecil?"

"Joana of Austria, daughter of Charles V Holy Roman Emperor, widow to John Manuel of Portugal and mother to the almost month old future King of Portugal; Maria Manuella of Portugal, Aunt to the future King of Portugal and daughter of John III of Portugal; Anna of Denmark, daughter of Christian III of Denmark; Margaret of Valois, daughter of Francis I of France and sister of Henry II of France; Jeanne of Navarre, current future Queen of Navarre; Mary of Scotland, Queen of Scotland. However I do believe the latter would be too young to sire an heir with therefore the others would be a better choice."

Thinking the names through he finally spoke to Sir William Cecil in a commanding voice with the confidence of a true King, "bring me the portraits of Joana of Austria, Maria Manuella of Portugal, Anna of Denmark and Jeanne of Navarre, Cecil," the man nodded his head with a most accomplished smile as the council moved onto yet another pressing matter requiring much attention, the Catholic rebellions and the hailing of the Lady Mary Tudor as the woman who should be their Queen.

And, though he would too take thought and feelings – well, at least partially - into account, knew just how to quell such a rebellion; providing the entire plan wouldn't backfire within the new King of England and of France, Lord of Ireland's face.

Of which it quite would.