(Taking a piece of good advice, I decided to continue playing with these awesome characters from the show. But now there will be more personages and from this point of view it's more convenient to write it in the third person. I apologize beforehand for the kind of soap opera I'm going to create. It begins at the episode three of the fourth season, though I'll change some details later on.)
Lady Anne, a native Princess of Cleves and once the Queen of England but at present the beloved sister of His Majesty King Henry the Eighth and the wife of his Lord Privy Seal, was sitting at the desk filled up with papers. For a last few days she had not paid much attention to her correspondence and the result was visible – dozen of unopened messages, petitions, accounts, reports of the stewards looked at her with a silent reproach. It seemed that this stream would never stop. If it was not for her innate methodicalness and sense of order she would be unable to rake this paper dump. "Well, here they are, the consequences of your position" – Anne said to herself and with a sigh went on deciphering the mysterious figures meant to counterbalance debit and credit for the last months. Even the surface examination made it clear that the expenses for keeping the household at Hever became higher in June then they had been previously. And that bearing in mind, neither she nor her husband had graced the castle with their visit. Anne smiled to herself. Of course, she would not be so pettifogging to inquire for the fate of each gallon of ale or demand from her seamstresses the precise report of the whereabouts of the unused piece of linen. And yet. The steward and the chamberlain of her household clearly needed a reminder that though she was a noble lady and even a royalty it didn't imply her ignorance of the four rules of arithmetic. In future let them be more careful in concealing their small sins and especially more foreseeing before they would make up their mind to steal on a vast scale. Surely, her fortune combined with the wealth of her husband was large enough to allow them to support a legion of dishonest stewards. However, as Thomas once remarked, money had a damnable habit of disappearing precisely at the moment when you terribly needed them. Unfortunately, many members of the nobility seemed to forget that wisdom.
Having finished with financial affairs, Anne reached for another pile of papers where she had put private petitions to the King and his first minister. Recently she took it as a rule to read at least the part of this unceasing correspondence and thus facilitate the work of her husband on whose shoulders laid such a burden of concerns besides. Oh, my God, how many stories she had learned over this time, how many events, sometimes funny, sometimes tragic, had passed before her eyes. People from all over the country practically of all classes of society confided to her the details of their lives in the last desperate attempt to improve their being or find justice. In spite of the seeming realization of her usefulness this job didn't give Anne a satisfaction, probably because she felt the insignificance of those efforts. She understood that for each poor man who had got help in his misfortunes one could easily find a couple of his less lucky fellows. Well, apparently, God had decided to create this world in such a way that it would not exist without cruelty and injustice. Anne shook her head as if sending away those gloomy thoughts. No, today she would not deal with such matters, all the same, she would be of little use in her present weary state. She returned the pile to its former place and after arranging everything for tomorrow work, got up from the desk.
At the fourth month her pregnancy already made itself felt. The body grew heavy and so every move she previously had made on instinct now required all her attention and carefulness. Sometimes, especially in the morning, lying in bed or examining her reflection in the looking-glass, Anne felt repulsion towards herself. She almost hated the woman looking at her from the mirror, fat, clumsy, with dark circles under her eyes. But then her maids came in, bringing the bouquets of fresh flowers. They drew aside the long window curtains, letting in the sunlight, and in hour or so Her Grace, properly dressed and brushed, entered the main hall of her London house. The new day began. And when the sun finished running in the sky and all home cares also came to an end, Anne sat down in the armchair at the window and started waiting. From the outside it seemed that she was just enjoying a rest. In reality at that moment she tried to comprehend the miracle she herself had caused, the miracle of creation a new life.
Anne opened the window, letting in the evening chill. Alas, the room immediately was filled with dust and disgusting urban smells. Lately the atmosphere in London had become unbearable for her sensitive feelings. Very often she discussed with her husband the necessity of her leaving for one of their country residences, but those talks came to nothing so far. Every time there appeared a new obstacle preventing her departure. Anne herself as the main argument against her travel raised a question of safety of that journey in her present condition. But inwardly she knew the actual reason of her delay. Thomas couldn't accompany her because the circumstances demanded his presence at the royal court, near the king's person. The only thing he could afford was to visit her at Hever from time to time. Although it had been half a year since their wedding, they had not parted with each other for more than a day and Anne dreaded the thought of a long separation. "What nonsense, - she chided herself. – You behave like a teenager girl. The man cannot be tied to his wife's skirts forever. And you need the change of climate until the worst happens. Remember, how many women suffered a miscarriage or delivery of a still-born child? All that because they didn't care about themselves, about their health. How can you risk the life of your own child just for the sake of absurd selfishness?" Her reasonable self immediately agreed with those arguments but another, irrational part of her took the challenge, inventing thousand silly excuses until, weakened by that struggle, Anne made a final decision – to postpone her departure just for a few days.
Today was not an exception. Trying to collect her thoughts and turn them to the right direction, Anne took the book which had been presented to her by one Richard Jonas, a royal physician. A year ago he had arrived at this country as a member of her entourage and remained at court. His work was called "The Birth of Mankind" and, according to its author, was the first writing about the art of midwifery in the history of Europe. Just what she needed at the moment. Anne had already read it, making her way through the labyrinth of unknown Latin terminology. But as it turned out several times, she had missed one or another important detail. So she opened the book and started reading. However, very soon the letters began to dim before her eyes and eventually the scholarly work found itself on the floor.
She was back to reality by the familiar sensation of tenderness and surprise she always felt when her husband's lips touched hers. Still half-asleep, she returned a kiss and, inclining forward, embraced his neck. After several minutes of immovable silence she opened her eyes. "It seems, I've fallen asleep and didn't hear you coming", - she said as if apologetically. "You should long be in bed. Do you know what time is it now?" – In vain he made his voice sound stern, his eyes betrayed him. Anne smiled and parried a blow. "Then what about you?" – She asked teasingly and stroked his hair. "I wonder who of us is expecting a child," – Thomas placed himself with a more comfort near his wife's chair and put his palms on her stout belly. "Well, what shall we do with our Mummy?" – He asked with the most serious expression on his face. – "Does not listen to the good advice, does not spare herself, does not care about herself. Tell me, how we shall influence her?" "How disobedient our Mummy is", - Anne admitted, the whole look of hers showed humility and repentance. Finally, not standing it any longer, they burst out laughing.
Eventually, Thomas rose to his feet, made a few steps in the room and suddenly stumbled over something heavy. Restraining a curse ready to escape him, he picked up that "something" and brought it closer to his eyes. Even in the semi-darkness he recognized that object. "This book again?" – He asked, carefully putting it on the shelf. – "I thought, you have already learned it by heart". "Not yet", - Anne answered. – "Besides, it's useful at insomnia. Helps to go to sleep". Thomas grinned. Good that the respectable writer didn't listen to this talk. "By the way, Kathryn also has got this book", - he heard. – "Apparently, Mister Jonas presented a copy to both of us". "Very clever on his part", - he thought and said aloud. – "Do you mean the queen?" "Whom else?" – Anne got up from her chair at last and went to the bedchamber. Soon her voice was heard from that room: "When I came to see her yesterday, she was just reading it with a curiosity". "Well, it seems she is not in a great need of it so far", - Thomas followed his wife, undoing his doublet while going. – "Unless for general education". For some time they both kept silence occupied by the difficult task of delivering themselves from the various pieces of their toilet. Of course, it would be better to use the help of the servants, but neither husband nor wife wanted to spoil the intimate atmosphere by the presence of other people even if familiar to them. Finally Anne broke the silence. "I think, you don't like her very much", - she remarked examining her ribbon.
Further explanations were not required. Thomas was well aware of whom his wife was speaking. Lady Katherine Howard, a child-queen, whose name had been the cause of incessant talks in the country and abroad for the whole year already. When the aging monarch decided to get rid of his fourth spouse, it evoked predictable reaction among his subjects and fellow princes. They said that the King of France raised his eyes to heavens and sighed deeply after hearing the news of Henry's divorce and the Holy Roman Emperor Charles allowed himself to make a witticism too bold to reproduce it in a diplomatic message. Anyway surprise was definitely not one of the most prevailing emotions in this case. But the next choice of His Majesty astounded everybody. Of course, Lady Katherine belonged to one of the noblest families in the realm but she herself seemed to be a black sheep in the honorable Howards clan. Nothing in her life foretold her sudden rise to prominence. Having lost her parents in an early age, she found herself in the custody of the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk with whose estate at Lambeth the most of her childish memories were connected. Katherine didn't like to enlarge upon the details of her life under the care of a noble relative. Only once or twice she mentioned, in her usual giggling manner, that they ran a little wild there. Whatever those words meant, one thing was clear – her upbringing didn't prepare her for her present standing and duties. As for His Majesty, this marriage didn't bring him either the important political alliance, or the powerful family connections abroad, or at least a rich dowry. Instead of all these advantages he had got as a consort a young flippant person whose frivolous manners and thoughtless remarks regularly became the subject of the reports of the foreign ambassadors to their sovereigns. Lord Cromwell was informed about the context of their dispatches better than anybody else. The service of the perusal of the diplomatic correspondence functioned very efficiently indeed.
However, he chose not to share these thoughts with the wife waiting for his answer. Instead he said diplomatically: "More importantly that the king likes her". Anne smiled. "Confess me, you still can't put up with a thought that it's not you chose a wife for his majesty". She playfully ran a finger over his temple wishing to drive away any troubles from his mind. He smiled back at her. "What's more surprising is that you obviously like her. Who could guess that you would become so close? You have absolutely nothing in common". "Except the marriage to the one and the same man", - they both added mentally. "Yes, I like her, - Anne agreed. – She is a pretty, jovial girl. She is easy to deal with". And you need not think what and how to speak, how your words would be interpreted, need not look for a double meaning of your companion's phrases. Katherine belonged to that kind of people who felt themselves at home in any company and preferred to play the leading part in whatever conversation took place. The others therefore were spared from the obligation to find a topic for a talk. The only task left for them was to make their remarks from time to time hoping that at least some of their words would be heard. Sometimes it was very suitable especially if you suffered from natural shyness and felt awkwardness in the presence of other people, unfamiliar or alien to you.
"Well, if you are such good friends, maybe you'll talk with her on occasion?" – Thomas suggested suddenly. – "Until it becomes too late. I feel you are the only person to whom she would listen". "Talk about what?" "About everything. Her behavior. How it looks from aside. What kind of thoughts may come to people' heads. How it affects the King's authority. Do you know what she has done today?" Anne sighed preparing to hear about another breach of etiquette by the light-minded Queen. "Rushed headlong into the Privy Council chamber crying: "Henry, I'd like to say something to you". Seymour near dropped his papers from surprise". Anne vividly imagined the picture. She would have given a lot to see the faces of estimable councilors at that moment. But in spite of understandable indignation at Her Majesty's misbehavior, they definitely didn't see one thing – the king was contended exactly with that sort of wife. He didn't want clever, independent women with their own opinion on political or religious matters, the queens who tried to overstep the boundaries of the role allotted for them. In their company he would always have been on the alert, because even the slightest attempt of his wife to express her views was perceived by him as a threat to his throne. Intuitively Anne guessed it in the first weeks of her short marriage to the king and was confirmed in her assumption during that famous, decisive talk with him later on. Henry was afraid of strong women. By cruel treatment of his first two wives he tried to overcome his fears. Kathryn on the other hand, silly, naïve, childishly rejoicing at every present or sign of attention, was a gift of fate for him. With her he could easily play the role of the real man, indulgently looking at his young wife's pranks, the role of a condescending protector.
"Yes, you are right. It amuses the king", - Thomas went on meanwhile as if seeing his wife's thoughts. – "So far. But who knows what will happen tomorrow? He may be tired of all this one day and then…" Significantly he didn't finish the phrase. "Then what?" – Anne asked anxiously because she knew the answer. Her husband stood up from bed and went to the window. "Well, - he replied looking at the darkness, - in this case he uses the tested scenario. Practically he has two of them for choice. And God as my witness, I shan't be able to endure it again. Not to mention that I'll have to ransack all dog-holes of Europe one more time in search for a new wife for him".
"What did you say?" – Her Grace furiously threw the ribbon she had been playing with and jumped to her feet. "That's what you think of my country! Dog-hole of Europe. Very well. Then who am I to you?" Great Lord Cromwell whose restraint and self-control had become proverbial at court started back from the window, hearing this tirade of the angry spouse. "My darling, what is it?" – He uttered in fright. – "I didn't mean you". "Then whom did you mean if not me?" "You got me wrong, please, listen, it is not so". But Anne was implacable. Three or four minutes passed before she turned to her husband who was putting his arms round her waist. She needed to give vent to her righteous anger. So in her kiss she put all the passion she was capable of. "Have I got the pardon?" – Thomas inquired. "I'll have to", - Anne sighed. – "Especially as you were right."
"Sometimes I think that you are unreal", - he confessed, lying in bed so near her. – "I am afraid to wake up one morning and realize that you are not here, that all of it was a dream." "Yes, it's true. I'm a ghost. I'm a product of your fantasies." – With these words she moved closer to him. "For a ghost you kiss very well", - he noticed several minutes later. She laughed. "It's a pity, we'll have to confine by it for the present." "Never mind. I'm a big boy already and can cope with this problem". "And what about me?" "For shame, Lady Anne. What kind of thoughts! Who could expect them from you?"
Of course, Anne was sly a little saying that. She enjoyed their moments of intimacy, but no less she loved the time when she was just lying with her husband in that strange state of mind when one part of her was sinking into a dream and another was still aware of everything going on around. In those moments, sensing the presence of the man she loved near her, feeling the warmth of his whole being, she experienced perhaps her most intense happiness.
Already starting to doze, Anne suddenly asked herself: "I wonder what Katherine wanted to say so important she needed to break the meeting of the Privy Council".
Henry Tudor was sitting alone in his chambers. It was rather late and he had tried to go to sleep several times but, being unable to lie still on the mattress, got up and began walking across the room. His state of mind demanded an activity. He could hardly wait a daybreak when he would mount a horse and ride at the head of his suite towards the rising sun. Just like then, in his youthful days, when he was able to spend twenty-four hours in the saddle and returning from hunt found strength for other pleasant pastimes. Hey, he was still young. His beloved, sweet Katherine gave him this half-forgotten feeling of the fullness of life. And indeed, he was rewarded for all his care for her. Now, the year after their wedding, she finally said to him that she was with child. And no matter that she chose the wrong time to share this joyous news with him, that his thoughts were occupied by quite different problems at that precise moment (damn those French with their bastard King!), that he was slightly irritated by her absolute lack of decorum. The words she gasped out when they left the council chamber were worth of it. With a great difficulty Henry managed to proceed with the meeting and not to start laughing triumphantly or doing another silly thing. And then during the evening he several times caught an anxious look of his personal servant, Thomas Culpepper, directing at him. Certainly, the groom worried what happened to His Majesty, what was the reason of his distraction. The boy is so loyal, so devoted to him. As it should be, of course. Well, tomorrow together with the whole country he will find out this reason. He, Henry, will order to inform all the ambassadors about it so they will notify their sovereigns, notify the whole world.
From now on nobody will dare question his manhood, his capacity to produce an issue. My God, if somebody had told him ten, no five years ago, that his abilities in those matters would be doubted, he would have sent a foreteller to an asylum. Because only a madman could imagine… Henry stopped himself. It goes without saying, there is no self-murderer who would decide to discuss the problems of the potency of his King aloud. But he is not a fool, he can guess what kinds of thoughts people may hide behind their deferential masks. Especially after that shameful, absurd incident with a German princess to whom the devil himself made him marry. Henry pursed his lips. He didn't like to recall that strange delusion which lasted half a year and which people wished to call his marriage. Of course, he found the way to be delivered from his unwanted wife, but damn it all, if he felt himself a winner. Instead of the expected feeling of satisfaction by the triumph of his will the king sensed that he was fooled, became a victim of a nasty trick. And by whom? By this German girl who looked like a meek creature from the outset, dare not utter a word, and by his minister, practically, his servant. Why only did he give his consent to their marriage, expose himself to universal ridicule? A month didn't pass since their wedding and the news about the pregnancy of the former Queen became known to everybody. To rack and ruin went his efforts to explain his failure entirely as a fault of his wife, her lack of beauty, her previous engagement, her, God knows, what else. It turned out that other people didn't consider her ugly at all and no pre-contract prevented her from finding herself in a delicate condition. Once Cromwell fucked her… Henry gritted his teeth in fury, recollecting again a humiliation he experienced having heard that his rejected wife was expecting a child from another man. With a great effort of will he fought back the desire to catch his Lord Privy Seal by the throat and beat him in such a way he had never beaten anybody, to strike him without stopping until his victim would faint. But even in the disarray of his mind Henry understood that such a behavior was not the best way to congratulate the man on his future fatherhood. So the king gave his secretary a forced smile and pronounced a few appropriate words. And then, left alone, he did his best to cope with the passions overwhelming him. Among these various emotions he suffered was the one feeling which, if Henry had desired to analyze his state more thoroughly, he would have defined in the first place. Envy.
But now, thank God, it's over. Gone the whispers behind his back, the knowing looks of ambassadors, humiliating feeling of his own failure. And how lucky it is that Queen discovered her pregnancy just now, when he is planning his progress to the Northern provinces. He has got an opportunity to make this journey more impressive, more memorable to everybody. He will take with him the foreign envoys, all the councilors, all the nobility of the kingdom. He will make even the humblest, the most insignificant subjects realize all grandeur and magnificence of his royal power and all horror of their unpardonable former crimes. Yes, this tour of the country will do what the royal guns and gallows were unable to achieve. It will annihilate the last traces of rebellious sentiments. And the culmination of these festivities and splendour will be the coronation of Queen Catherine performed at York with the observance of all ancient ceremonies.
Henry's thoughts came back to his today's conversation with Cromwell which took place, as usual, after the meeting of the Privy Council. They just discussed the details of this future journey when all of sudden the minister noticed that he'd better stay in London, for the departure of all royal councilors would leave the capital without any government. Henry rejected this idea on the ground that he will need his chancellor's service at the planned negotiations with the Scots. It was the truth, but only half of it. You need not be a prophet to foretell that the sojourn in the places once enveloped in flames of rebellion would not become the most pleasant event in the life of Master Secretary Cromwell. For if there was something that united the gentry and commons under the banner of disobedience and turned them into one frightful power which nearly shook the throne, it was their hatred towards his person and his reforms. Henry felt a malicious joy at the thought of the probable unpleasantness awaiting his faithful servant. The strength of his gloating even surprised him.
The Duke of Suffolk will also undertake this so called pilgrimage to the places of his former military deeds. Not because the King could not part with his loyal Charles or expected any services from him in near future. Despite their deference to the noble titles and ancient families, the populace of the North will hardly be able to show love towards the man by whose orders their friends and relatives had been sent to death just a few years ago. By contrast with this crying unpopularity of his two closest advisers he, Henry, will become the natural focus of everybody's admiration, the center of attention of the crowds. The people, the common folk love their King and will get a good chance to demonstrate their affection. He in his turn will show mercy and generosity which are expected from beloved monarch. Henry imagined vividly these scenes - kneeling crowds, asking forgiveness for their former great sins, he, delivering a speech of reconciliation, the universal enthusiasm and cries of joy after that. Amid these displays of rejoicing who should ask questions by whose orders really the mass executions were carried on, whose iron, merciless will pursued the policy of the Reform. Henry remembered very well the advices of one Italian writer whose book he once had read with such a great interest.
Of course, in his absence somebody should keep order in the capital. He will leave Edward Seymour here. Yes, it will be a good choice. Among different ambitious men clinging to Henry's throne the eldest brother of his late wife obviously was the most impatient. Well, let him show what he is capable to do. Because if, God forbid, there arises the question of regency, the Earl of Hertford as a closest relative of the young prince will be the most possible candidate. No, Henry stopped himself one more time. He is young enough to see as his dear Edward will come of age. There will be no guardians, no Lord Protectors. He himself will pass the crown to the firm hands of his matured son, just like he had got it from his father. And this new King Edward will have brothers, support of the throne and the future of the dynasty. The princes to whom Queen Katherine will give birth.