A/N: This is taken from Queen Anne's challenge.
Summary: "I am not afraid of anything, except being a disappointment to myself." Lady Anne Boleyn was introduced to the court of Arthur II and his wife, Katherine of Aragon as the King's natural daughter. After that, she was given special treatment and had her last name changed to FitzRoy to emphasize her status. But the life of a royal bastard, isn't an easy one, especially when everyone is against you for the simple reason that you are you.
Chapter 1: New Beginnings
"My mommy always said that monster were not real, but unfortunately they are." -Diary of Lady Anne, Marques of Pembroke and Natural Born daughter of Arthur II and his mistress, Elizabeth Boleyn.
When I was little I remembered seeing a man coming to our house. He said that he was royalty and after he spent long hours with my mother he would check on me. It turns out that this man was the King of England and my real father. He came out after my fourth birthday when he humiliated his Queen, the staunch Catholic, Katherine of Aragon, by parading me in front of his courtiers.
The Queen was a stout woman, who in spite of cravings, was still very beautiful. Indeed, when the King of France said something nasty about her, her husband jumped to her defense and dared him to look at her in the eye and say what he said. Katherine or Catalina as she was called in her native Castile, was the child of two powerful monarchs. Growing up, I would hear nothing but tall tales about her mother and father, that I doubted if these were true. Needless to say, I was proven wrong when the King introduced me to his wife.
She had a sweet countenance that didn't reach her eyes when she set them on me. My mother had been one of her maids of honor after she and Arthur had been crowned jointly in June of 1509. After she discovered that she was pregnant with her husband's child, she dismissed her. There was little the King could do but nod his head as his wife as she threatened to expose his sins before the court.
There was one favorite that the people whispered among themselves (because no one was brave enough to say so in front of the King, and much less the Queen whose wrath has become legendary): The King's brother, Henry Tudor, the Duke of York. He was six years younger than his sister-in-law and five years younger than Arthur. If Arthur had died on that fateful day when the plague broke out in Ludlow, five months after he and Katherine had been wed, he would have been King and it would be Katherine by his side, as his Queen.
(I often wondered what kind of King, Henry would have made, but such thoughts are wasted since what-ifs are pointless. There is only the here and now.)
He immediately came to his sister's side and said that I took after my father "which is to her detriment since she will now be mistaken for our fine little princes." Everyone laughed at this.
It is no secret that I look like a boy. That I have never been the stunning beauty that I would have loved to be, especially when I am compared to the other highborn ladies of the court. My mother says that my time will come but for a child who is often the butt of jokes, it seems impossible. Then there is my surrogate father, Sir Thomas Boleyn who was amply rewarded. He is a daring man, someone who is not afraid to say what is on his mind. He is also opportunistic, switching sides as often as he changes his clothing.
Mother says that she loves him dearly. "Almost as dearly as you love His Majesty, the King, my lord father?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.
She says nothing, choosing instead to kiss my forehead then blows out the candles and closes the door behind her. This is the first time I have slept in a bed as big as this, with an army of attendants sleeping in lower quarters, ready to dress me and do whatever I tell them to do. Some are nobles and these sleep in better quarters. I am not sure if I will ever be accustomed to such delicacies. It doesn't feel right.
"You will get used to it."
I open my eyes. "Who is there?" I ask, it comes almost as a whisper. Could it be one of the Queen's henchmen who's come to murder me? No, that can't be. The Queen's bouts of jealousy are infamous, but she can't be that stupid.
My fears are assuaged once the door opens and a little girl (my age) comes holding a candle. "Hello."
"Hello." I say back. "Who are you?"
She smiles and sets the candle on the drawer next to my bed and gets in with me. I look at her with such hostility that it forces her to speak again, and justify her actions. "See this?" She says holding out her left hand. In the middle finger there is a ring. I recognize it immediately.
"Oh."
"Exactly."
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your mom, your brothers or …" I don't know –I think "hating me?" I blurt out.
She giggles and slaps my shoulder playfully. "How could I hate my sister?"
"I am afraid I don't understand."
She sighed. "Look my mom doesn't like your mom and I bet yours is still sore after what the Queen said about her, but just because our moms hate each other, doesn't mean we have to hate each other too."
"I guess not." She has a point there. "So how did you escape from your army of servants? I can barely escape mine."
"Oh that," she waves her hand dismissively then gets underneath the covers and closer to me. "I just used one of the secret passageways."
"What passageways? I thought there were none." I was stunned, Richmond Palace had been remodeled after Henry Tudor, the first Tudor monarch, became King of England.
"Well, technically no. The old passageways are gone but some remain and more have been added. Only a select few know." She said.
"Like you?"
"No. I am not allowed to know, but Marion, one of my older brothers snuck into daddy's offices"
"Marion?" I was struggling very hard not to laugh.
Sadly, it was a battle I was losing because Princess Mary saw it and yelled. "Hey! Marion is a decent name. He was named after the Virgin Mary, just as I was, and after our aunt, the Queen Dowager."
I nod, biting my lower lip to keep myself from saying a joke I just thought about thanks to her brother (I guess mine now too) ridiculous name.
"Anyway, he saw the plans and shared them with me. I can tell you all about them after we wake up and get ready for the joust."
"I am not sure your mother would agree-"
"She doesn't have to know and besides, you need a friend and what better friend than me." She said then blew out the candle. Without giving me a chance to tell her that I didn't want her (or me) to get in trouble, she wraps her arms around me and says "Good night."
"Good night." I say back. Maybe being here would not be so bad after all.
