La Reine Des Coeurs

'You had my heart,

At least for the most part"

A Little Piece Of Heaven by Avenged Sevenfold

29th January 1536, Palace of Placentia, Greenwich, London

Henry paced outside his wife's bedchambers, shooting glares at anyone who dared to look at him, his nails cutting into his palms. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, he marched. Emotions coursing through him.

She is disgraceful, an unsuitable wife and queen, Henry thought bitterly, rage building in the pit of his stomach, ready to spring out. He heard another scream and he flinched. Stupid woman endangering my beloved son.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Anne's father and uncle conversing quietly by the large bay window. George, Anne's precious brother, sat motionless, hands clasped tightly, his lips moving quickly as he prayed for his sister. Anne's mother had been barred entrance to her youngest daughter, despite being present at Princess Elizabeth's birth, the doctor deeming this situation to be too upsetting for the countess. The countess sat by the door, waiting to spring up at any moment, her face anxious and her hands running over her book of hours, touching the words of God but not reading them.

They all jumped as the door swung open, creaking heavily. Out strode Lady Jane Boleyn, her cheeks wet with unshed tears. She looked momentarily at her husband, George, before disappearing with a large pile of bloodied sheets. She scurried back past with new sheets, stopping for only a moment to squeeze her husband's hand.

"Your Majesty, I beseeched you to ask Doctor Linacre if I may join my daughter. I know my presence will be a great comfort to her at this trying time", Elizabeth Boleyn all but begged Henry, her eyes shining. Henry ignored her, sullenly looking at the waxing moon.

Stupid wife, he thought again. It had been six hours since that fateful experience and here he was, still waiting for news. Still waiting for Linacre to announce that the damned witch had miscarried again. He knew in his mind that this miscarriage was a sign from God, their union was cursed, just like his and Katherine's had been.

Suddenly he spotted a blonde head scuttling towards him, lips trembling. Her cream gown was tightly laced around her slender frame, her perky breasts threatening to spill out as she all but ran from the birthing chamber.

"Jane, what's wrong?" asked Henry, searching her face, his hands smoothed down her fair hair, readjusting the French hood on her head. He knew she hated the flirtatious French fashions and would've rather worn a gable hood, but her uniform required her to wear it. Jane looked down at the floor, biting her lip, trying to look the picture of innocence like her father had suggested.

"Janey, you know you can always speak freely in front of me, for it is the definition of love" murmured Henry, not caring that Anne's family surrounded him, or that his wife was losing their child. George looked up sharply, red colouring his cheeks as he glared at the King, the bastard that had so badly hurt his glorious sister. Elizabeth Boleyn looked away in anguish, her eyes trained firmly at the bookcase. Thomas Boleyn and Thomas Howard had obviously not heard the King's expression of love, or if they had they were ignoring it.

"Your Majesty" began Jane, looking deep into Henry's eyes, "the Queen screamed at me and banished me from her chambers. I was only trying to help" whimpered Jane, hoping she looked the picture of sadness.

Henry scowled, even now, even at this awful point, Anne could still find it in herself to be rude to someone as courteous as his Jane. He sighed heavily, glaring at the oak door. Even if she couldn't see his anger, Henry felt better.

"Come Jane, lets talk more in private" he whispered his breath tickling her ear. Jane's breath hitched in her throat knowing what he meant, her family had not coached her on what to do in this situation. Time to be a woman Janey, she thought to herself, gingerly taking Henry's warm hand and allowing him to lead her to the door.

The door to Anne's chamber burst open again so suddenly, that it hit the stone wall. Doctor Linacre stood there, eyes wild and face dripping in sweat. He fumbled into a bow as quickly as he could.

"Your Majesty" he called, breathless, wiping his bloodied hands on his tunic.

"Your Majesty, the Queen…well, I don't think her, or the babe will make it. But if we have a chance to save one of them, which one did you want to be saved?"

Henry stared at Linacre, watching the colour drain from the physician's ruddy face. He could still feel the fury racing through his veins and in the moment, he couldn't care less with what happened to his jealous wife. She had caused all of this.

Henry's face split wide, into a spiteful grin.

"Save the babe, if you can."

XX

Jane was perfect, kind and obedient. She was pretty too, maybe not the prettiest lady at court, but he adored her blonde curls and the way her smile curved around her face. He loved her pale blue eyes and the way she looked at him, as if she was in awe of him. She was so different from Anne too. Everything Henry wanted in a wife. In fact, Jane reminded Henry of his mother.

Both were family women, and Henry knew that Jane would make a beautiful mother as well as a loving stepmother. Unlike Anne. It infuriated him, how even in moments when Henry knew himself to be happy that she crossed his thoughts, marring them with the mere thought of her. It was unnatural the way his mind obsessed over her. He looked out of his bedroom window at the stars shining above.

The body next to him shifted in her sleep and Henry peered at her. Her pouty lips were slightly open, and he admired the way her eyelashes brushed her cheekbones. Her hair was a mess, blonde curls splayed across the pillow. He dares not wake her, wanting to drink her in as if she was a fine wine. She looked like an angel, laying next to him and Henry smiled, dipping down to press a tender kiss to her angular collarbones. He knew Jane would make a good queen and he knew now that he must be rid of Anne and her temptress ways. She had failed him and that made her useless. In fact, that made her replaceable. He would go to Cromwell tomorrow and ask him to consider ways to get rid of his unruly wife.

Henry was stirred from his thoughts by a sharp knock on the door. Sighing, he withdrew from the bed, wincing at the draft in the air. He gently readjusted the blankets around Jane's sleeping form and pulled on a pair of breeches before pulling open the door.

In front of him stood a very breathless George Boleyn.

"Come quick, it's…it's…Anne"

XX

Notes: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please feel free to message me if you have any questions or if you just wanted to discuss this story.

Please review, it is singlehandedly the best thing to receive as a writer as it lets me know that you are enjoying my story or that you have suggestions on how I could improve it.

Thank you to the lovely people who have reviewed, followed and favourited this story.

Disclaimer: British history does not belong to me, nor does Showtime's The Tudors (although I do love their castings!)

I have had two messages asking me who I based my Anne and Jane on. My Anne Boleyn is based on the very beautiful and very talented Natalie Dormer, who plays Anne in the Tudors, the only difference is that I gave my Anne dark eyes as is historically correct. My Jane is based on season three's Annabelle Wallis who is also gorgeous. (I can't stand season two's Jane Seymour so…)

Anyway, onwards with the next chapter…