Chapter II

June, 1530

The ex-Queen Catherine of Aragon prayed serenely in her diminished chambers, hoping her decision to cease fighting for her daughter's rights was the correct choice.

Mary needed to survive, and to do so, she must have the King's favour or she will be ripped mercilessly to shreds by the greedy Howard and Boleyn wolves.

"Your Majesty, letters from His Excellency and His Majesty."

She rose and took the two letters, nodding at the lady-in-waiting with thanks. She opened the first and her heart sank like a rock in the royal pond.

Mary had willingly signed the acknowledgment of the King as the Supreme Head of the Church of England and agreed that His Holiness was nothing more than a Roman bishop who had no rights to command a king of England. Catherine guessed by now, Mary had already agreed to marry the whore's brother. She knew it was her fault for resigning the fight.

She should have continued like any good mother would.

She opened the second and her heart leapt back in place.

The King has kept his promise! Catherine thought delightedly. I am invited to Mary's marriage with George as a princess and Duchess of Lancaster! George will be given the marquessate of Ormond while his father will be the Duke of Wiltshire. I suppose it is luck that Mary will remain in England and close by my side, rather than in a strange Court in the other side of the world. I hope Mary is happy in her marriage. I heard goodness about George Boleyn and I hope it is true. Perhaps it is only Anne Boleyn that is the wicked child, not George or poor Mary Boleyn.

"We must pack," she told her ladies a few seconds later. "I am expected at Court and it will not be a long journey to Hampton Court. We will depart in an hour so we can arrive there before this evening's feast, so time is everything ladies!"

She had not been at Court for quite some time.

She wondered how she'll be received.

The Boleyn faction would loathe her beyond comprehension, but the other nobles-like the Seymours-would receive her with open arms.

Bags were hastily packed and a carriage was ordered. It had been decided that only Catherine and three of her ladies-one of which was her confidante, Maria de Salinas-would go to Court, while the rest would remain in the current manor until further notice.

"Are you excited to return?" asked Maria, sitting opposite Catherine in the carriage. "The courtiers have not seen you dance in many years!"

"My time for dancing is over," said Catherine, with a deep sigh. "The King will want to dance with his wife-to-be. I do not doubt that once our annulment is fully finalised, he will marry her without a second glance at me. Either that will be before or after Mary's wedding with George. I hope she is happy as a marchioness and in line to be a duchess."

"At times like this, you must think of yourself as well as your daughter."

"What do you mean, Maria?"

"Your daughter is growing up. She cannot remain under your protection forever. She must learn to tread carefully in Court and to be watchful under the King's eye. You done the right thing, signing over your rights as queen consort. You have one thing a queen does not have?"

"What is that? An early death from a broken heart?"

"Freedom." Catherine's heart skipped a beat as she heard that word.

"Freedom..." she repeated, the word strange on her tongue. "What about you, Maria? Why are you here, serving me? You have a daughter, who is now the 12th Baroness Willoughby de Eresby in her own right! Should you not be with her?"

"I have chosen to serve you instead," said Maria loyally. "My daughter is safely with your Mary, and your Mary needs all the support and friendship she can get. She will enjoy Court, and the King will find a suitable husband for her."

"That is well and all, but she will miss you. Once the King's affairs settle down and we find a permanent residence, I will relieve you from your duties for a few weeks and I will expect you to visit your daughter and spend time with her. It will be your responsibility to find a kind, suitable spouse for your little girl rather than the King."

"You do not have to-"

"I insist, Maria. If you leave your Catharine in the King's hands, the harlot will marry her off to one of her Howard relatives. Believe me, this is the rise of the Boleyns just as it was the rise of the Woodvilles many years ago. I can see it happening."

"Very well, Your Majesty-"

"I am 'Your Highness' now. My queenly days are over."

Maria nodded obediently. She was not pleased that her mistress must give way to the Boleyn harlot, but she was certain God's hand was in it.

He wanted Queen-no, Princess?-Catherine to step down from the throne for the good of England, and if that is what He wishes, his pawns obeyed.

"What will they call you?" said Maria out loud, blushing as Catherine raised an eyebrow at her sudden outburst. "I apologise, Your Highness. I could not help but think it inconvenient for courtiers to address you constantly as 'Duchess Catherine'."

"Of course," said Catherine dismissively. "I understand your concern, Maria. If it makes you feel better, you may call me 'Infanta' like you did when we were in Spain. I believe in England, we call 'Infanta' a princess. I suppose I must get used to being called 'Duchess Catherine', as it does not sound right to be addressed as a 'princess' with my Mary as one. Whatever the King wishes to address me as, the Court will follow. Believe me in that, Maria."

I will never accept that harlot as queen, thought Maria savagely. I do not care if my Queen Catherine does, but I will never do so! One day Queen Catherine will be the rightful queen at the King's side, and I will do whatever it takes to return her there, with Princess Mary as the true and only heiress of England and the future Queen Regnant of England!


Equally anxious, the King paced nervously around his study, wondering if inviting Catherine back to Court was the right choice.

After a bitter fight, she willingly stepped down for Mary's sake, and she is her mother...it seemed right for her to be attending her own daughter's wedding.

Of course Anne wasn't happy.

"You want to invite her to my brother's wedding?" she said spitefully as the King told her the decision one night. "She will ruin it! The people will cheer her as queen!"

"It is my daughter's wedding too," Henry VIII reminded her gently. "Catherine is no longer queen, and in a few months, you will be my one and only queen. No other woman will take your place. How would you feel if your mother was refused permission to attend your wedding? Mary will be your stepdaughter in a matter of months, and it will always benefit you to befriend her rather than antagonise her. She will also be your sister-in-law in a few days' time. Do it for me, Anne? Please?"

Anne considered it. "Very well, Henry. Just for you. On one condition?"

"What?"

"Make Catherine my lady-in-waiting."

"Anne! That is outrageous! She is an Infanta of Spain! Her nephew is the Holy Roman Emperor and he will declare war on England if he discovers his aunt is a lady-in-waiting!"

"You are afraid of a man nine years your junior?! You are a king, not a mere knight! Catherine is in England, under your rule, not in Spain, Austria, or wherever her nephew's domains are! She will be my lady-in-waiting or I will forbid her to attend my brother's wedding!"

"No!" the King's eyes flashed dangerously. Anne stared boldly back at him, a tinge of fear running through her spine. Did he still carry an old flame for Catherine? If he did, Norfolk will obliterate the both of them! "Catherine will attend as an Infanta of Spain and the Duchess of Lancaster! I will not risk England falling under Charles V's wrath! You are still the Most Honourable, Lady Anne Boleyn, 1st Marquess of Pembroke, not the Queen of England! You will address Catherine by her proper title and show her the respect she deserves! You will be respectful and kind to Mary, and if either of them die in the wedding celebrations, I will hold you responsible and bed you right there and discard you on the streets! Do you understand, Lady Anne? You may not like either of them, but for me, you will! They are family, and you will love them like family!"

Anne looked defiantly at him, sparks flying from her own black eyes.

"I will not!" she said viciously. "Catherine is nothing to me! If she bothers to curtsey to me, I will spit at her feet and kick her!"

Slap!

Anne's hand instantly went to her stinging cheek, her confidence melting from her. She had never been slapped before-especially from the King.

"You. Will. Go," repeated the King, caressing Anne's cheek (the one he had hit). "You will show respect towards them both, or I will remove the marquessate of Pembroke from you. If you treat Mary as a bastard, your title will go as well."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," said Anne meekly, fuming with rage and humiliation. "I spoke out of term, and it will not happen again."

The King nodded, satisfied.

"You will have the privilege of choosing three men to be awarded Order of the Garters," he promised, kissing her on the forehead, his anger vanishing. "Whoever you wish to be knighted with such a prestigious order will have the honour of it! Perhaps I will give you an earldom or elevate you to the position of duchess before our marriage. Come. We must go and greet Catherine. She will be arriving in the courtyard at any minute now."

He offered her his arm and taking it, the two walked out of their chambers, a happy smile plastered on Anne's face. The King did not need to pretend to be joyful. In truth, he was pleased to see Catherine return to Court. Not that he missed her, but to smooth over relations with Spain.

"The Duchess of Lancaster has arrived," Norfolk informed them.

"Excellent," said the King uncertainly. "Show her in."

The doors opened and Catherine gracefully walked in, sweeping the King a perfect curtsey and earning gasps and whispers from the surrounding courtiers. She rose and nodded at Anne, who was obliged to curtsey, to Maria de Salinas's satisfaction.

"Your Highness," said the King tightly. "I am pleased you can arrive back at Court so quickly. I hope your journey was well and...uneventful."

"Indeed, Your Majesty," said Catherine smoothly. "I am grateful you invited me to be a guest at our daughter's wedding. I cannot thank you enough for it."

"Good. You will stay with the Court?"

"For a few weeks perhaps, but I'd like to return to a more permanent location. I am not as young as I was before." Anne inhaled a sigh of relief.

"Norfolk, fetch George," ordered the King. "Duchess Catherine, would you like to meet your future son-in-law? I can assure you that Mary approves of him."

Catherine nodded enthusiastically.

"Will you visit Spain?" said Anne sweetly. "You must miss your home, Your Grace."

"No," said Catherine politely, ignoring her last few words. "I already bid farewell to Spain many years ago. I do not need to return. My home is now England. I consider myself an Englishwoman rather than a daughter of Spain. Congratulations on your quick betrothal, Lady Anne. I hope you bear England many prosperous sons."

A chill crept through Anne's back.

Not having a son was the reason why Catherine was discarded. What if she fails her duty and finds herself on the same path as Catherine? The King had already shown his violent nature, and Catherine was treated finally due to her royal status and willingness to cooperate. What would happen to her? She had no powerful relatives abroad!

For a second, she wondered if her hatred towards Catherine and Mary was wrong.

Would she ever need them as...allies in the future?

Never, thought Anne, clenching her fingers together as she forced a smile. I will have a dozen fine sons and another dozen beautiful daughters. The King will love me for eternity and praise me for my fertility and skills in childbearing. Skills that Spanish cow clearly lacks. After I give Henry our sons, Mary will kneel until her knees crack and kiss my feet.

The last thought sent thrills through her mind.

Wouldn't it be satisfying to see a princess with royal blood in her veins from both sides of her family kneel and pledge loyalty to the daughter of a mere earl-now duke?

"I thank you for your...thoughtfulness," smirked Anne. "However, I can assure you that the King and I will have plentiful sons. Enough for one to be the Prince of Wales, one to dedicate his life to the Church of England and a dozen to be fine soldiers and scholars. We will have a nursery full of them. We will also have daughters. Many daughters, all married to the most powerful kings, dukes and princes in all of Christendom while your daughter will be nothing more than a marchioness. What do you say, Duchess? I imagined Mary as the perfect lady-in-waiting for either myself or my first daughter. Can you imagine her scraping clean the chamber pots and scrubbing the floor till her hands and knees bleed? Once my many daughters marry royals, she must give way to them."

The King stared at her with horror.

His beautiful, clever Anne-! Those cannot be her words!

"I am glad you are so confident," said Catherine, who remained surprisingly pleasant. "I look forward to the christening of your many sons and daughters. Ah! Who is this? You must be Mary's betrothed, the 1st Marquess of Ormond!"

Walking in, George bowed to his future mother-in-law, who looked at him kindly and with some sort of interest he couldn't describe.

"Lord Ormond," greeted Catherine, pleased with George's physical features and deciding that it wouldn't be long before Mary would fall in love with him. After all, he was quite handsome-for a Boleyn-and his eyes showed signs of sincerity and honesty. Traits his sister did not inherit. "You are the lucky man who will marry my daughter!"

"Your Highness," said George, careful not to call her 'Your Majesty'. "It is an honour to meet you. I have heard...great things about you, and I find myself incredibly fortunate to be the Princess Mary's husband and your son-in-law."

Norfolk restrained himself from an ugly scowl.

He wished his son, Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, would marry the Princess. Even though the Boleyns were related by blood, he wanted more. His daughter Mary, was set to be engaged to the King's acknowledged illegitimate son, Henry Fitzroy, 1st Duke of Richmond, and he had hoped for his heir to marry the Princess and for him to control her.

With the Princess under his roof, he would ensure her utter submission to his family. However, with George Boleyn as her husband-to-be...

"Where is my daughter?" said Catherine, glancing around.

"In her chambers," said the King promptly. "Praying I suppose. After I created George the 1st Marquess of Ormond, she requested permission to retire and pray for good fortune for her future. I agreed. It won't be long now before she presents me with a grandson!"

Anne paled, to Maria's delight.

"Is anything the matter, Lady Anne?" she said innocently. "Are you unwell?"

The King whipped his head around and stared at Anne anxiously.

"I am fine," said Anne hastily. "A little um...tired. That is all."

"Nervous for the big day, I suppose," said Catherine mildly. "As am I. Perhaps it is time for supper? The journey was uneventful, yet tiring, and I feel a slight bit peckish."

Anne nodded in agreement, a little grateful at her nemesis for changing the topic.

To both Anne and Catherine's surprise, Henry offered Catherine his arm, and the two of them walked grandly to the feasting hall, a spectacle astonishing many nobles along the way. Unhappily taking second place (again) to the same woman she bore hatred towards, Anne quickly grabbed George's arm and followed the King and Catherine, her head held high and proud.

"That was foolish of you," George hissed into Anne's ear. "What possessed you to boast of your fertility and your...plans for Princess Mary?! You're lucky the King didn't execute you!"

"The Lady Mary," said Anne scornfully. "She is to be your wife, and she will be Lady Mary Boleyn. I will

ensure she becomes a lady-in-waiting. Can you believe it?! He is walking with that Spanish bitch!"

"Ssh! Anne! Do not speak so loudly! You are not yet queen! The King said that even after Mary marries me, she will always be a princess of England. I know our uncle stressed loathing towards Catherine, but I think you should make peace with her."

"Why?! She means nothing to me!"

"She will be related to you through my marriage with Mary."

"I can elevate you to a dukedom, give you estates, wealth, power, anything! Just don't make me sue for peace with that bitch. I will give you anything you want, if you can convince your future wife to stay at Court as my lady-in-waiting."

"No!" George looked at her, scandalised and a little angry. "I will not have a princess of England as your lady-in-waiting. If you dare insult her or her mother again, you will lose me as a supporter and a brother. I love you as a brother should, but this cannot carry on! If you do not apologise to Catherine, I will go to the countryside with Mary immediately after our wedding. I will not remain in a Court where I constantly see you attempt to rip out her throat."

"You are my brother! Why aren't you happy for me?!"

George said nothing.

How on earth can he explain his mixed feelings for the poor, suffering princess to his heartlessly ambitious and cruel sister?

"You are on her side?" said Anne, horrified, stepping away from him. "No...please tell me that isn't true, George! You have not abandoned me now! I convinced the King to make you a marquess! If it wasn't for me, you would've remained as a viscount! Don't leave me! You owe me!"

"I don't owe you anything," said George, more coldly than he intended to be. "The King does not wish for his daughter to be a mere viscountess and elevated me to a marquessate. You did nothing. In fact, I distinctively remember you trying to convince the King that the highest I should go is an earldom. If my affianced was not Princess Mary, you would have wanted a dukedom for me. Until you make peace with Catherine and Mary, I consider myself no longer your brother."

He nodded curtly to her and walked away, no longer feeling hungry.

Anne stared after him, confused.

What had happened to the brother she loved and trusted?

It seems a betrothal with a princess had changed his personality!

"Why are you not at the feast?" George turned and bowed as he saw Mary looking at him, clinging to the door of her chambers. "You were invited."

"Your Highness," said George, smiling stiffly at her. "Forgive me, I was startled. I found my stomach unwilling to embrace more food at the moment. What about you? There will always be a place at the table for you, Your Highness."

"How was my mother?"

"Very well, Your Highness. The Duchess of Lancaster is more cordial to my sister than she was to her. I guess the Duchess approved of me, but it is hard to tell. Your mother has an excellent poker face that even I cannot imitate!"

"She has not been harmed?"

"Harmed, Your Highness?" He seemed perplexed. "Why would she be harmed?"

"Your uncle for one, does not seem keen to have her around."

"He is not foolish enough to hire an assassin to kill your mother on the way here. I agree he has motive, but Anne isn't married to the King yet, nor am I to you! The irony is that if he orders your mother's assassination now, his plans would all fail."

"You are right. I am too cautious I suppose."

"Nonsense, Princess Mary! Caution is needed here in Court!"

Mary smiled shyly at him and he smiled charmingly back.

"This may sound stupid," he admitted, taking a step forward. "I know we met under rough circumstances and you have every right to hate me and my family, but I found it clearer now than ever before. Ever since I saw you, I loved you. Even when you were running around in the gardens, being chased by a whole flock of governesses fearing execution for abandoning you, I found you enchanting. You may still harbour feelings of hatred towards me, but I don't care. I said this before, but I mean it now. Even if I get disinherited from my family for truly loving you, it'll be worth it. I'll give up all my worldly possessions to taste the sweetness of love."

"I love you too," confessed Mary, looking away.

"You do?"

"Indeed, Lord Ormond. At first, I was suspicious of you. I thought you only wanted to marry me to control and break me. I was actually prepared to fight you all the way. I thought you were the same as Anne Boleyn. Made of nothing but ambition. Clearly, you are a different Boleyn. One with a heart of pure gold. I'm happy my mother approves of you."

"As am I, dear Mary. I can call you that, can't I? I am tired of formalities and I cannot wait till we are seen together as husband and wife."

Mary felt tingling in her body as he spoke.

Was it the handy work of love?

"I am afraid," she said softly. "There will always be other Howards and Boleyns wanting my death and the death of my mother. I am frightened, Lord Ormond. What if your father poisons me in our wedding celebrations? I will threaten any of Anne's children."

"You will never be harmed, nor your mother, dear Mary. I can protect you both until the day I die, only on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You call me George."


Thanks for the positive reviews! Yes, I promised Anne wouldn't be the villain, but please just cope with her evilness for a few chapters or so! Next chapter's the wedding :) Question for the future of this fanfiction: should Mary become Queen of England in her own right? Your choice. Most comments on either option determines the fate of this story.