Information: In this story we're following a completely and utterly AU plotline. When you read, you'll understand. I just wanted to have some fun with Edward Seymour and his conscience, and this is where that took me. Please keep in mind there will be a lot more swearing, violence, etc as this story goes on. Look who it's about! Anyway, enjoy, and review! :)

I paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth for several hours. I could not bear to enter his room to find him pale and sickly. I could not bear it. Everything that my family had worked for would be down the drain, a long with the hopes and wishes of a late king. Everything was going to end for us.

"Your grace." A physician said quietly as he snaked out of the room, closing the door quickly behind him. It was as if he didn't want me to see the boy king on his deathbed. He too knew what problems would occur with his death.

I turned to the stout little man and raised my eyebrows at him. "What is it?"

"His Majesty, King Edward, he's passed on, your grace." The physician told me shyly. He must have been ashamed of himself. I hope he was! What a lousy physician, not even able to save the little King of England from a bad bout of the flu.

"What?" I demanded in a most furious tone. I was right up in the doctor's face now. I would not have it. He could not be dead! "Tell me you are lying to me."

The physician shook his head. "I'm sorry your grace, I'm not. His Majesty had some disease of the lung, which could not be helped. He did manage to sign a short letter before his death. I am sorry, you grace."

"Do you really think that sorry cuts it?" I asked him. He merely blinked back at me, afraid to say anymore. "Get out of my face."

The man did not bother to respond. Instead he ran off in an unknown direction. I did not bother to watch him leave because I did not care. I stood outside of Edward's door wondering what I should do. I would not see him there, lying dead on his bed. I would not look. I was not afraid, nor upset, I just could not bear to see him go. The little boy had brought me so much, and he'd given me a dukedom, and now he was gone and his Catholic sister was next in line to the throne. All of the work I had done over the few years of his reign where I had stood as Lord Protector would become nothing if Mary sat on the throne.

"Shit." I said aloud to myself, as I suddenly remembered why it was necessary for me to enter the room. His Majesty had died, but right before, as the physician had mentioned, he had written some sort of letter. What could it be? I couldn't leave that to be unknown, I had to find out. Looking down the hall and around myself, I decided to man up and enter the room. I push the door very quickly and averted my eyes from the bed. Where would the letter be? Ah, there. His bedside of course. I quickly marched over and pulled the piece of paper with the King's seal from a table and then went towards the door. I looked back only for a moment, taking one last glance at my nephew, the King of England, before closing the door behind me and running towards my privy chambers.

When I got there, I locked myself in. I could have no disruptions while I read this letter, in case it was important. Knowing my luck though, it was probably something utterly pointless that a delirious Edward had came up with last minute. I sighed and took a seat at my desk, lighting a candle quickly before I held the parchment in front of my eyes. I realized quickly that it was more of a note than a letter.

As our days come to an unexpected end, we bid farewell to England, our country. We, as the most important member of the realm, on our deathbed, order that our half sister, the Lady Mary Tudor, does not take the throne after we are gone from this world. Instead, we propose our uncle –

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to stop reading for a moment to let the King's last words sink in. He proposes, me, his uncle, to what? I could not contain my excitement. I leaned closer to the candlelight and held the paper steadily in front of me, continuing to read.

to succeed to the throne, as we were closest with him before we met our end.

I stopped reading again. Succeed to the throne?! I thought, putting the paper down for a moment. I ran a hand through my hair. All this work, it hadn't been for nothing. I was slightly confused, however, to why the King believed us to be close. I had never treated him, as I should. I treated him like any child should be treated, and not like the King he was meant to be. I shook my head and picked the paper back up, a grin on my face. I continued to read.

We, Edward the Sixth, Kyng of England, on our name, pass our power to Lord Seymour, Baron of Sudeley, now Thomas I of England.

And then was his signature. I nearly dropped the letter onto the candle, where it would have erupted in flame. Had I read it correctly? I looked once more, and then again. No, how could it be? My nephew, the late King of England, had just passed his torch not to either of his sisters, or me, but to my useless brother!? He went against the laws in the act of succession set down by his own father, so it could not happen. Thomas will be king of nowhere. I won't have it.

I looked down at the note again and noticed the large amount of white space in-between Edward's shaky paragraph and his barely distinguishable signature. The boy had written this when he was so close to death, he could barely move. His handwriting did not even look like his own.

I began to feel worried, but I wasn't sure why. This letter meant nothing. The Act of Succession was clear to state that the crown could only pass the offspring of Mary Tudor, Queen Mary of France, beyond Henry's own offspring. Thomas was not related to anyone but the late king himself, and no one would agree to that. But if that was the case, why was I so worried? You're worried because you fear that people may agree to follow the King's last words, and forget the act of succession.

"But that could not be with Mary alive." I said to myself, shaking my head. In times of frustration it was easiest to figure out my problems aloud, while having a good conversation with my conscience. You make a good point. Then why are you afraid?

"Dammit, I don't know! I was asking you for a reason." I said. Had anyone heard me they would have thought me to be insane. I put the paper down on the desk and began to pace once more, like I had paced outside of Edward's room waiting for good news.

That letter could be good news for you Edward. Think about it. Use your brain.

I scrunched my brow in frustration. What on earth was my conscience trying to tell me? I tried to calm myself down a bit and think straight. How could this letter be good news? I took a seat back at my desk and reread the letter, and again observed the poor handwriting.

Sometimes I wonder who you are, Edward. Rewrite the goddamn letter.

"Rewrite it?" I asked myself. What good would that do?

If you rewrite it to say your name, then it could do a lot of good, don't you think?

I bit the inside of my lip in thought. "Mary would still be a problem." I said.

Not if we get rid of her.

"Get rid of her?" My own mind was disgusting me. I had sentenced many a man to death, and even killed myself, but to kill the heir to the throne? It seemed like a little much to even me.

Stop being a baby. I bet Anne will agree.

"No she will not! She likes Mary." I protested. "She'll be furious."

Fine then, just don't tell her. Do the job yourself.

"And how am I to get to her and kill her without anyone knowing it was me?"

Go for a ride. Give her a bad horse. It will be an accident, to all other eyes.

I rubbed my chin. I could barely believe I was actually considering this idea. Was I really going to kill the Lady Mary? I guess so. If that was what had to happen to get the most powerful position in England, then I would do it.

Next problem to consider: what about the Lady Elizabeth?

"She won't be as much of a problem…"

Are you so sure Edward? Won't people want another Tudor on the throne?

"You make me laugh." I remarked to myself. "I could kidnap her."

Now you've got the wheels turning up here. Well, what are we waiting for?

"Morning?"

I guess you're right. Are you going to tell anyone about this?

"Well, Anne would be furious about the Lady Mary part, but I may tell her about Elizabeth… depending on what I decided to do with her in the end, but Anne's really the only person I trust." I said, shrugging as I leaned back in my chair.

I think you should tell Thomas.

"Tell him?" I asked, shocked. Was this my conscience talking to me still? "Are you insane?"

I don't know, are you? I think you should build an alliance with Thomas. End your quarrels and get him to trust you.

"And what good is a friendship with the Baron of Sudeley?" I asked, unimpressed.

Many a thing, Edward. You need someone you can count on, a man. Anne is good, but not what you need here at court. You need Thomas's friendship.

"Do I? I could disagree there a thousand times over." I said, laughing. "I can't tell him about the contents of the letter though…"

Yes you can. When you rewrite the letter, he'll never know. Just make sure you get rid of the original.

"Right." I said, nodding my head. I looked at the letter in my hands and let out a laugh. I was beginning to think I was slightly crazy, but I didn't care. In good time I would be King of England, and nothing else mattered.

I got a new piece of parchment and a quill and ink well and began to transfer Edward's words onto it. I changed nothing except Thomas's name, to mine of course. Duke Edward Seymour of Somerset, Earl of Hertford and Lord Protector of the realms. I finished it off with a nicely copied signature, Edward, in cursive and brought the paper to my lips, planting a kiss on it. I could not believe this was happening, and I had to remind myself that nothing had happened yet. The public did not even know of the King's death and frankly, I planned to keep it that way until I had secured my future position. King Edward VII of England. It had such a nice ring to it. I would be the first of the House of Seymour's. I laughed again as I thought of what my father would have said had he found out, that indecent bastard.