AN: This is my first story, and I'm really excited! I appreciate all reviews, and I welcome criticism. :)

If you close your eyes for a second in court, you miss everything. I had foolishly let down my guard; sure that nothing could threaten me. Of course I thought so- I was the most popular lady in the castle. People were gravitating towards me, instead of Queen Katherine. But the second Henry, my Henry saw my sister Anne, everything changed.

I was in my room at Hever Castle, where I had grown up. I was dizzy with the knowledge that the King himself wanted me. Maybe even loved me. And who was I to say no? By then, we had probably bedded together at least a dozen times. I loved the attention that I received. Being the King's mistress, I was second only to the Queen. It was no wonder Henry was interested in other women. His wife was old, and had lost her former beauty. Little did I know, that while I was redoing my hair, Henry was seeing my sister Anne for the first time. And falling helplessly in love.

The first signs came quickly. He immediately ordered Henry Percy, the son of the lord of Northumberland, back to his family. This wouldn't be unusual, if he were not Anne's lover. They loved each other desperately, and she was heartbroken when he left. Soon after, Wosley, The Kings Lord Chancellor, summoned Anne to his chambers. She came running back to our chambers not fifteen minutes after, sobbing unrelentlessly. She told me through her tears that he had declared that they had never loved each other, and that she was still a virgin. It would have been suicide to contradict him. Wosley slyly held the actually power in England, without the King even knowing. But unknowingly, Wosley had made an enemy. Anne promised that she would remember him, and what he had done to her. As she said it, I could see the venom in her eyes. Anne never forgot.

After Percy left, Henry started summoning me to his bed less and less. And when I did go, he was distracted and irritable. Instead of immense pleasure, I now looked forward to those nights as if he was my father instead of the King. My father started to be harder on me as well. Unlike before, when I was the most important chess piece to play, my father ignored me. He was stuck between my sister and I, and his problem because evident when he called Anne, my brother George, my mother, and myself to his apartments for supper one evening.

He was pacing, his hands behind his back. Abruptly, he stopped, and started at Anne and I.

"I don't know what to do with you two."

"Well, whatever you want of course." Anne predictably retorted. Our mother gave her a pointed look.

"Henry is still bedding you. Is that correct?" He shot the question at me.

"Yes." I responded. "Although not as much as before."

"Before when?"

"Before… Before Anne."

"Aha!" He swirled around to face me, having resumed pacing when I had spoken. "And that is the key point! He wanted you before he meet Anne! But now that he knows her, he desires her! He wants your sister!"

I winced as he cruelly slapped the truth in my face. "That may be, but then why is he still calling for me every night?"

Anne, who had been quiet up until thus far, said, "Because you are an addiction. An old addiction. One that is easily broken." She turned to my father. "Sir, I know I can do this. Let me get him and hold him. I can tie him up, I can lead him in circles, I will be able do make him do anything! I know I can!"

I gasped. "Father, no! He is bedding me! This is just a passing desire! It will pass, I know it will! And he loves me!"

My mother tutted. "He doesn't love you, girl. He lusts for you. That is, he used to."

My father looked between Anne and I, weighing each option carefully in his mind. Me, with long blonde hair, a young body, and blue eyes with a hint of tears visible at the corners. Anne, with her angled and narrow face, thick black hair, and bottomless dark eyes, flashing with determination. His head slowly turned towards Anne, and stopped. My eyebrows shot up, but my heart fell down, until I couldn't feel it at all. He nodded at her, and her body, rigid with tension, relaxed. She said nothing.

I could feel my bloodless face grow cold. With a small curtsey, I swept out of the room, back to my bed. Kicking off my shoes, I collapsed, the pillow muffling my tears. My chance to be some one in life, to be important, was gone. Stepping back to give Anne a clear shot meant joy for her, and misery for me. But I sat up on the bed, wiping my face with cold fingers. I was a Boleyn. A Howard. I would stay strong. Even if it broke me inside.

Anne began to slowly lure the King into her trap. It began with a look, and sigh, a glance in his direction. Something discreet and subtle, that he would be sure to notice. And notice he did. Henry started abandoning the Queen in favor of long walks around the garden with Anne, or hunting parties with her seated at his left hand. His attention was solely devoted to my sister, and I despised it. No longer the center of attention, I was last season's mistress. A cast-off piece of old clothing. Queen Katherine saw what he had done to me, and I saw pity in her eyes. Even though I had attempted to steal away her husband, she still pitied me.

During those days, I started spending more time with her, and I came to understand that she was a better lady than I could ever be. Kind, caring, forgiving…. everything a queen should be. Everything I was not.

During the next few months, Anne became known as Henry's lover. But his lover she was not. She kept him on a string, moving two steps forward, and then one step back. She was unpredictable and erratic. She had to keep him on his toes, had to make him feel as if he were making progress when in reality nothing was happening at all.

The pressure made her irritable and cross. When we were in our room together, she took out her temper on me. But I was used to it. This had happened often when we were sisters growing up together. I had long ago learned that it was best to say nothing, and let her tire herself out when she started one of her inane rants. By that time, I was not jealous of her, but nor did I pity her. She had chosen her lot in life. Now she had to live it.

Around that time, I was permitted to visit my children at Hever castle in Kent. During my days with the King, I had given birth twice. The first one was a little girl. I named her Catherine, after the Queen. The second time, the baby was a boy. He was named Henry after the King. No one beside myself knew for certain if they were the King's bastard children, or the legitimate offspring of my husband the late William Carey. He had died of the sweating sickness, which had almost stolen my sister as well.

I had to take the normal escort of men when I made the journey from court to Kent. I had grown quite fond of the land there, and did not need an escort, but my brother and father had insisted. There was one change to the normal rank of males. A common man who had recently begun working for my father had replaced the lead soldier. His name was William Stanford.

By the time we reached Hever castle, I forgot all about the new man. My children came running up to me once we were across the bridge.

"Mother! You're here!"
I jumped off my horse and swept them both into my embrace. "Of course I'm here. I just couldn't stay away any longer!"

They both laughed and grinned, delighted that they could capture my heart. But of course, it had been theirs from the first time I saw them. I leaned back to really look at both of them. "My, you've both grown so much! Catherine, did your hair grow longer?"

"Of course! It's down to my back now!" I smiled proudly at her. "And Henry! When did you get so tall?"

"The same time Cat's hair grew." I smiled again, and ruffled his hair.

"Mother, the servants didn't know what time you'd be here, so they already have supper on the table." Catherine said.

"Wonderful. Let's go eat, and you can tell me everything that's happened around here." Henry ran back into the castle to make sure that everything was in order, but Catherine stayed with me and took my hand. She peered up at me and smiled. My already full heart felt like it was about to burst from the love and happiness. This, surrounded by my children and the sweeping green meadows and forests, was where I belonged.

Summary of the rest of Mary's life:

Mary fell in love with William Stanford, and they secretly got married. By that time, Anne had convinced Henry to marry her, but he was starting to get angry with her, because she had not given birth to a boy. When Anne saw Mary's happiness, she banished her from court. Mary and William took their children and went to live in Kent. Eventually, they had a daughter, Anne, and a son, Edward. Queen Anne never gave birth to a boy and heir, and Henry grew to hate her. She was committed of witchcraft, adultery with multiple men, and incest with her brother, George. She was publicly beheaded on May 19, 1536. Mary became the sole heiress of the Boleyn family, and inherited a considerable amount of land and money when her father passed away. She and her husband lived in obscurity for the rest of their live. Mary died in her early forties on July 19, 1543, surrounded by her family.