Tiny slippered feet climbed the spiraled stone staircase to the second floor of the manor house. Stiff skirts made of velvet and silk rustled as the wearer finished her trip up the stairs. Her skirts were then dropped as she glided across the wooden floor to hide her ankles, as was appropriate for someone of her station. Her dark hair had been swept back into a tight bun and hidden behind a Spanish-style hood. She hated the heaviness of the hood, shaped like a gable, but had been compelled to wear it. Someone of her station should wear a hood, and as the queen was wearing that particular style, which the woman found ugly, she must copy her sovereign.

The woman, who looked like she was in her late thirties due to the lines of laughter creased into her fair skin, turned to a large, heavy wooden door and knocked swiftly on it. In her other hand was a piece of parchment covered with feathery handwriting. After not hearing a response from within, she took it upon herself to enter the room. She was greeted by a large four-poster bed that nearly took up the room with the crimson curtains still drawn to ward out the night's chill. She hummed in disapproval and marched over to the bed to pull back the curtains with a resounding snap.

If she had been in a non-business mood, she would've smiled fondly at her son. His limbs were tangled under and above the covers, his face mashed on a pillow with a little rivulet of drool slowly making its way down his chin. His unusual spiky hair was a giant mass of a knot. He appeared to be naked under the bedclothes, which made the woman frown a little deeper. She knew, despite the young man being her son, that she was not to question his doings. A woman was never to interfere with the men and their activities. Still, he was her son and she knew it was well within her position in the household to scold him when she found his actions inappropriate. She wished he would wait to be so ambitious about his partying until he was summoned to court. She sighed and placed her fists on her hips.

"Atemu!" she called sternly.

The young man opened one scarlet eye and after a moment, realized who was standing beside his bed. He immediately shot up into a seated position and pulled the covers up to his chin to hide his obvious nudity. He blinked a few times to try to remove the sleep from his eyes. He hated the unyielding look his mother was giving him so early in the morning. What time is it anyway? he wondered. Ugh...I should not have had all that wine with Mahad last night...

"This came today," she stated, waiving the piece of parchment in Atemu's face.

Atemu could feel a headache coming on from his eyes attempting to track the letter flying through the air. He hated hangovers, especially when his mother was the first one he saw the morning after heavy drinking. Her expectations of him were so high, and even though Atemu did everything else that every other man did, she still disapproved of his actions. To be honest, he didn't give a damn about that stupid letter and wished to remain in his warm, comfy bed without worrying about the idiotic demands of his mother. Though, he supposed he should try to show some interest to get rid of her sooner.

"What is it?" he moaned, closing his eyes to try to stop the pounding in his head caused by the waving letter and the bright sunlight pouring into the room from the tall, wide windows.

"This is a letter of summons...from the King."

Atemu opened his eyes once more and ripped the letter out of his mother's hand. He scanned the paper despite his headache, his excitement growing with each line he read. "This...this is..."

"A great opportunity! The King has decided to bestow his favor upon us once more, and I do not want you to destroy this chance for our family!"

Atemu reread the letter. His headache was momentarily forgotten as he imagined all the possibilities a stint in the court of the most handsome, agile, well-dressed, and wealthy king of Europe would bring. He knew he also was given the chance to advance his family's fortune if he became a favorite of the king. Atemu knew his parents would be looking for him to do exactly that, but Atemu was more interested in all the revelry and meeting the people behind all the stories he had heard from Mahad over the past months.

"I would be more than happy to go, mother," Atemu began before she cut him off.

"I do not want you out late at night drinking beyond all reason! The slightest misstep could be disastrous! Your duty is to this family. You are to keep your ears and eyes open to everything. If you hear anything of importance, you will write to me or your father."

"I thought father would be at court as well," Atemu murmured.

Atemu's mother turned away, and he noticed her fists clench behind the folds of her skirt. "Your father is not as influential as he was before." she paused. "The king is searching for the young to be at court. He wants to surround himself with beautiful people. He has deemed your father too old to continue to be of any use. Thankfully, it has not led to a revocation of any of our titles...but be that as it may, your father shall remain in London. He has been asked to come to court only when summoned. It appears you shall be taking his place."

She turned back to Atemu and cupped her hand around a cheek. Atemu flinched for a second, not used to the affection his mother so seldom showed. She ran her supple thumb, free of calluses, over his cheekbone. She smiled at him and sighed. "My beautiful, beautiful child. You will captivate and break hearts. You will be highly desired...a perfect choice for His Majesty."

Atemu's eyes closed to slits and he removed his mother's hand from his cheek with as much coldness as he could muster. "I am not an object you can manipulate and use, mother. I am my own person. I will obey the orders of My King, but I will do as I please while I am there."

She drew her hand back with the speed of one who has been burned. She returned his icy gaze and placed her hands back on her hips. "No, you will not. You will obey your King because to not do so will be certain death. You will do as your father says because we rely on the continued generosity of the King for the lifestyle you have grown accustomed to. Yes, there is much revelry at court, but you must exercise moderation, Atemu. Our King does not take kindly to those who take advantage of his hospitality." She then sat down and gazed into her son's eyes. "I want you to know something very important, Atemu, for it can determine the course of your stay at court."

Atemu sighed and shut his eyes in annoyance. His headache was starting to return with as much vigor as before and his bed was looking more and more tempting with each passing second. "What, mother? I know all the rumors from court that I could not possibly make any mistakes."

"No, you do not. Mahad has not told you everything that concerns the Queen."

Atemu opened his eyes once more and gazed at his mother. "How do you know what we have spoken of?"

"Only a few families are fully aware of the circumstances. Mahad is not one of them. Some have already begun to take advantage of it, so I want you to align yourself with those who are on the rise. It will make a profitable marriage for all of us," she paused for dramatic effect. "Queen Katherine is being replaced. The King has been taking on various lovers as he has grown quite bored of Her Majesty. It seems he has chosen her replacement and is working diligently to receive a dispensation from the Pope to annul his marriage."

Atemu sat up straighter, his blankets falling to pool around his hips. "Who is her replacement?"

"No one is certain. There are a few women he has shown interest in - all high ranking families." She rose and began walking out of the room. "I do not blame him for wanting to find a new wife. He is, after all, young and handsome. I want you to ally yourself with these families. Do what you must. Now, your things will be packed and you are expected to leave on the morrow. Do not disappoint me, Atemu."

With a final swish of her skirts, she exited the room. Atemu sat for a minute until he could no longer hear her in the hallway and exhaled the breath he had been holding in. He flopped back onto his pillows and stared at the canopy of his bed. He then closed his eyes as the pounding in his head made itself known once more. Finally! He would be making his debut at court! He had waited for years to go to London and now that it was happening, Atemu could barely contain his excitement. Oh, the possibilities! Meeting all the foreign envoys, dancing, masques, feasts, and being in the center of it all! Atemu sighed in contentment before beginning to slip back into sleep. He pulled the blankets over his head to block out the sun from his face. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't long before a knock sounded on his bedroom door and a serving man entered the room.

"Your mother told me you were ready to rise for the day, my lord," the man stated with a tiny bow.

Atemu flung the blankets off of his head and sighed in agitation. He hated that he was an adult, and his mother continued to treat him like a child. He hated how she tried to control him, like she was afraid of letting him go and making something of himself. He sometimes wondered if his mother chose to try to dominate him since she could not do the same with her husband. Like so many marriages, his parents had been united in an arranged marriage. He knew there was a certain level of respect, but there was no love. Atemu wasn't even sure that his parents had developed affection for each other. At best, it seemed they tolerated their spouse and stayed together because divorce was something Catholics didn't do. He also knew that if his parents separated, his mother would lose all of her titles and wealth, which was something she would strive, at all costs, to maintain. Atemu was aware that his mother's family were not titled and were not members of Henry VII's court. His mother must have yearned, much like he did, to be in the castles of the royalty and partaking of the luxury only royals could afford. His mother was expecting him to marry a woman who was high in the King's favor to further secure their standing. Well, he knew he wanted to marry for love. He wouldn't just settle for a woman that would secure financial stability. Many would scoff at him, but Atemu had ideals and he so dearly wanted to keep hold of them. They kept him going through life when it seemed his wasn't working out the way he wanted it to.

Atemu wanted to be in the service of his king for more than titles, gold, and entertainment. He wanted an escape from his mother and her tyrannical running of the household. He hoped that without being under her watchful eye, he could search for that illusive thing called love. As long as he wasn't being used as her puppet or being scolded for every little misstep, Atemu felt like he would find this love for sure.

"My Lord?"

Atemu sighed again and sat up, running his hand through his hair only to have it get caught in a giant knot. He groaned in frustration as his serving man approached him with a towel draped over his right forearm and an ewer of water in his hands. After disentangling his hand from his hair, Atemu dipped his hands into the icy water and shivered as his skin registered the uncomfortable sensation of cold. He splashed his face with the water in an attempt to pull himself out of the stupor he felt from having alcohol in his system and insufficient sleep. His serving man handed him the towel and Atemu patted his face dry, resting for a moment on his closed eyes to help relieve the pressure of his headache. He finally removed the towel and handed it to his man.

"It appears you will be helping me pack today," Atemu stated.

The man nodded. "Yes, My Lord. Is there anything special that you would like to take with you to court?"

Atemu ignored the man's knowledge of his destination. It didn't surprise him at all. It was so hard to keep information private in a household that was so concerned about eavesdropping. He was sure his mother had somehow paid this man to keep tabs on him and report to her anything that would be of interest to her. Atemu stretched his arms out briefly and then wrapped a sheet around him for modesty's sake and stood.

"Take everything," Atemu commanded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I am sure mother would not want anything less than that. I am new to court and first impressions will be everything."

The man nodded. "I will send in the others to help dress you."

At this point, Atemu had walked away from his serving man toward the window to stare out at his family's estate. "No need. I will dress myself."

A short silence. "But, My Lord...your mother-"

Atemu turned his head to look over his shoulder. His stare was deadly and made the man step back in fear, wondering if he had overstepped his bounds. Someone of his station should never question his betters, but he was often put into this position by the one he served and the one who paid him. Ultimately, the man knew he could lose his position in the household quicker by angering the one who paid him. He bowed his head, unable to meet Atemu's gaze any longer.

"I-"

"I do not care what my mother thinks. I am a man capable of dressing myself if it pleases me. She cannot control me any longer. I am my own man."

The trip to London was beyond exhausting for the young man riding in a coach along the muddy lines that the royals called roads. Today, Atemu's train had to stop at least three times to dig the wheels out of deep, muddy ruts created by those who had traveled before him. When his train finally arrived in the city of London, Atemu was relieved and thankful for more reliable lanes to Whitehall Palace. When the wheels of his carriage hit cobblestone, Atemu knew he was very close to the palace since the majority of London was still only accessible by narrow, mud-covered roads. Atemu drew back the red curtains and peered out of the window. There was no glass in the window as glass was very expensive and a luxury that his parents did not partake of. He craned his neck out of the window and gasped at the beauty of the stone building that rose before him.

Whitehall Palace consisted of two or three large, multi-storied buildings with beautiful glass windows. These buildings were connected by two story wings that housed several rooms for those attending to royalty at court. Some of the wings extended to the banks of the Thames River behind the palace. In the open area between the buildings and wings was a large garden full of hedges and flower beds. Off of the banks of the river stood several docks where small boats were moored for the royal progress to other palaces along the river. Atemu hoped that he would be able to join King Henry and Queen Katherine on one of their progresses or journeys to Westminster or Greenwich.

The carriage finally pulled up to a large stone staircase that led to two massive wooden doors. Atemu returned to a more dignified position in the coach, sitting straight on the velvet-lined cushion with hands folded in his lap. A footman opened the door and stepped aside to allow Atemu to alight from the coach. He did so and was greeted by a herald dressed in the king's livery. His vest was emblazoned with the Tudor rose and the pomegranate, the symbols of Henry and Katherine. The herald bowed low to Atemu.

"Welcome to Whitehall, my lord. The King waits for you in his presence chamber. He wishes for you to present yourself. The others here will make sure your belongings are taken to the proper quarters."

Atemu nodded assent and followed the thin man up the stairs. Atemu tried to contain the urge to gawk at everything like he had never seen anything so grand. He wanted to give the impression that he was used to this opulent wealth and living at court would hardly be an adjustment. Atemu knew he had much to learn about the workings of King Henry's court, but he knew several men who could lead him through his first couple of weeks. As he passed through the doors into the palace, he briefly turned to make sure his serving man was handling the process of unloading his things to his liking. So far, it seemed the man had everything under control and was running the whole thing like a military operation. Atemu smiled in approval and returned his attention back to looking for the king's presence chamber.

He attempted to attend to all the corridors and halls that he was lead through in order to learn his way around, but everything was so overwhelming. The palace was the largest building he had ever been in; even dwarfing the cathedral he had attended mass in with his parents. All the doors were solid wood with metal door handles and all the walls were covered with portraiture of past royalty. Richly stitched tapestries that depicted stories straight from the Bible covered bare walls and helped to keep drafts at bay. Eventually, they came to a door much like every other one that lined the hallway. The man knocked once and then entered the room. He bowed and straightened to deliver his short speech.

"Your Majesty, Atemu Hasan, son of Anne and Thomas Hasan, Lord and Lady of Warwickshire."

After hearing his name, his parents, and their titles announced, Atemu entered the room. He approached the throne slowly and bent at the waist with his right leg pointed toward the king and his right arm extended to the side of his body. He had practiced this bow for years under the tutelage of his mother. Anne had drilled it so much into his head and made him practice it so many times that Atemu was certain his obeisance would be the most graceful and perfectly executed one King Henry had ever seen. Indeed, Atemu heard the king laugh in delight and he ventured a gaze to the monarch's face.

Atemu was astounded by the king's handsomeness. The king's good looks were renowned, and Atemu was pleased to see his monarch lived up to the stories he had heard, perhaps even surpassed him. Henry's body was in perfect physical condition from his love of wrestling, hunting, and jousting. He wore a red velvet doublet with matching sleeves that had been slashed. His linen chemise had been pulled through the slashes to give the sleeves a more puffy appearance. The doublet was studded with pearls and rubies. Peeking out from the sleeves at the wrist was a lining of lace. Henry also wore white hose with short velvet breeches that came to mid-thigh. His slippers were soft leather that were studded with pearls and rubies. Henry wore large rings on his hands and a massive gold chain draped over his chest from his shoulders. This was also covered in rubies. His red hair hid behind a floppy red velvet hat that sported a white feather. Atemu was astonished by the wealth displayed in this simple outfit. He was sure this ensemble was probably the least expensive in his king's wardrobe.

Henry stood, holding his arms out in greeting. "Welcome to court, Atemu. You may rise."

Atemu straightened his posture and allowed the king to clap him on the back in a manly hug. Atemu did not return the gesture. He knew he could not touch his sovereign, the anointed of God. To do so would be sacrilegious and could lead to his immediate death. He could only touch Henry if the king gave him his express permission such as in a wrestling match. Otherwise, Atemu would have to stand and allow his king to do as he desired. After a few pats, Henry pulled away and held Atemu by his biceps.

"You are indeed most welcome. I hope you will feel at home here."

I am most grateful for your majesty's summons. I intend to serve you well."

Henry removed his hands and returned to his throne to sit. "You have come highly recommended to me. Lord Mahad and Lord Jou have spoken very well of you."

Atemu smiled at the mention of his friends and tilted his head toward the floor. "I will be sure to thank them for their kind words."

Henry nodded absently, showing he was quite finished with the conversation. With a brief flick of his hand, Atemu was dismissed. Atemu bowed once more and then retreated backwards. It was disrespectful for him to ever turn his back on an anointed monarch. Once he made it through the doorway, the door closed and Atemu slowly rose. The herald stood beside him and cleared his throat quietly to gain Atemu's attention. Atemu eyed the man.

"I will show you to your rooms, my Lord."

Atemu nodded and followed the man through the maze that was Whitehall Palace. He grinned at his fortunes. Here he was, at court like he always dreamed, away from his domineering mother, and ready to face whatever was thrown at him. Atemu could barely wait to immerse himself into King Henry VIII's world, and if he was lucky, he would find the one to complete him and make the experience even more worthwhile. Eventually, they came to a door that was already open with commotion coming from within the room. Atemu peeked in and saw the room was in total disarray. Standing in the middle of all the trunks and various sacks stood a blonde-haired, chocolate-eyed youth. Atemu smiled when he recognized the young man standing before him.

"Jou!"

Jou turned at the sound of his name and smiled his big, goofy grin. He approached Atemu and clapped him heartily on the back. Atemu did the same to Jou and laughed. He stepped back from his childhood friend and glanced around at the disorganization. Inside, it made him cringe, but he refused to let it show. He wanted Jou to believe that he had full confidence in his entourage to take care of the mess. Still, he knew differently and would have to give specific instructions once his friend's visit was complete.

"It is about time you were invited to court! Your mother must have been so pleased and gave you all manner of missions to advance the family."

Atemu chuckled. "So she tried. I will do as I see fit. She is not here to oversee me and since she is not," Atemu pointed to himself, "I come first. I want to get my fill of courtly life without worrying about jockeying for position."

Jou snorted in laughter. "Trust me, my friend...you cannot do a single thing without thinking about how it will further yourself or your family. That is how our king runs his court. He bestows rewards on those he favors and punishes those who refuse to follow his lead."

Atemu heard the sound of a trunk hitting the floor in a free fall and he whirled around impatiently to see what happened. One of his serving men stood in the next room, Atemu's bedroom, looking befuddled. Atemu made a sound of disapproval in his throat and shot the man a piercing gaze. The man cleared his throat nervously.

"Do act like you know what you are doing!"

The man nodded fervently and scurried to pick up the wayward piece of luggage. Atemu returned his attention to Jou. Jou had his arms crossed, smirking. Atemu returned the smirk and punched Jou playfully on the bicep.

"Sometimes they just need a little reminder," Atemu explained.

"I understand. If you believe you have everything under control here, I can take you down to the main hall to play cards. I hope you brought some money with you...they all like to gamble down there. Discreetly, of course," Jou said with a wink. "The King does not officially allow such a pastime. It has been deemed a sin of greed."

Atemu grinned and followed Jou out of his rooms. "Of course not. He is too Godly of a man to allow such a vice in his court. I would be happy to play cards and become acquainted with the others."

The two laughed as they joined the rest of the court for a couple of hours of frivolous merriment.