Author's Note: I do apologize for the delay but as anyone who's looked up my stories has noted, I have a definite fantasy bent to most of my works. My muse keeps trying to put in the Watcher's Council (from BtVS) b/c I've often wondered if the governments know of their existence. So far, I've managed to wrestle the idea away. I don't know how long that'll last though.
Plus, I've been really struggling with the 'this is from Anne's recollection' of the past' point of view and trying to work around it. The only solution I've come up with is that it switches from past to 'future' every once in a while, bringing in others and their view of my girls. I really hope it works.
If I were take a poll of Henry's favorite wife based on his opinions – and no one else's, I'd say it was…answer at the end of the chapter.
Thank you to all of my loyal readers and reviewers. You are the most patient people to bear with me as you so wonderfully do. Thanks, you make it worth it.

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Anne stood with the other ladies, rather shaken after that encounter with King Henry, though it had been an hour ago. It galled her to admit it but her sister was right. Mary's words had not held even a little bit of falsehood within them.

King Henry did possess a raw sensuality that drew one in. He was definitely a man in every sense of the word. A man who was completely in charge of his own image – and he, unfortunately, knew it and how to use it to his best advantage. That scared her more than she thought it would.

"Water, Lady Anne?"

Hearing Jane's familiar voice, she relaxed minutely. Much to Anne's startled relief, the girl was still at Court. Consciously she told herself that it was because her brother had not yet left for the Court of the Emperor Charles. Privately, she had fears that it had more to do with Jane's situation with that boy, Will. For she had thought that when her cousin, the Lord Arsinoë had left, she would be joining him.

After all, asking his help had been the reason she had come with her brother to Court in the first place.

"No," she shook her head. "I need to get out of here for a moment. I can barely think in here and I need to."

"But the King will expect to see you with the other dancers," Jane sounded positively scandalized by the idea of her skipping out.

"Please, Jane," the raw desperation touched the younger girl's heart.

With a courage that surprised them both, Jane nodded. "This way," she tugged Anne's arm. They snuck out of a side door, one that only servants used.

"We'll get caught," Anne warned, feeling dizzy with relief as the press of expectation and people disappeared behind the closing door. Though she felt sure that they would get in trouble, she couldn't stop that feeling.

"Only a few people are allowed to traverse this hallway," Jane said, sounding somewhat smug in her knowledge. "The musicians are already in the Hall. This garden was set aside by the Queen herself for those who need a moment of air. Besides, you're in costume. They will think there's a surprise number coming up, in honor of the Princess Maria and her betrothal to the Emperor Charles."

Anne took another look at her companion, rather surprised by the almost gleeful look there. "Thought about this a lot, have you?" she asked, instantly suspecting a trap and coming to a stop. Her slippered feet slowed as much as they could, trying to slow their progression.

It would not have surprised her had her father found out about her surprising affection for Jane and used the girl's innocence to help him get her to ensnare the King's affections. He had stooped to such actions before.

But then, as now, she would not be caught unaware.

A burst of gay laughter escaped her suddenly mischievous guide. "No, it just seems like something a girl in a story would do. Mind you, the girl is usually going forth to meet the Prince, not fleeing from him in disdain. Well, not unless she has a good reason for it," she thoughtfully added, recalling the story of Cinderwench who had to leave before midnight.

Or end up in rags in front of everyone. A situation that Jane, through her friendship with Anne, was coming to believe had more to do with emotional nakedness than physical. "Come along, if we tarry for too long, we will get some looks."

"Considering how the Princes act towards those women," she muttered fiercely, "I would think they would desire better."

They stepped outside and breathed in, enjoying the small kitchen garden. "I don't quite understand you, Lady Anne. Any other Lady would be begging to fill your shoes, for you are extra-ordinarily blessed with intelligence and mystique. Many of the males at Court fall over themselves trying to catch your attention, even the poet Wyatt is in your thrall. Although, I am not sure of the wisdom of courting his attention as his past is rather…scandalous."

"But that is the point, Jane, to be noticed," her voice was quietly sarcastic as she walked in front of her, stepping out fully into the night. "Haven't you noticed the other ladies doing the exact same thing? The law of the Court is to get noticed, to be the center of everyone's attention."

"But you don't want to be noticed," she pointed out, shutting the door behind the, enclosing them in the small garden. The bugs chirped and flew about, pausing only momentarily on their skin before moving on. "And yet, you do your best to encourage it –though you do not enjoy any of the adulation you receive from those about you."

"Law of the Court," her voice was ironic sounding.

"Don't you find that in the least bit odd?" she asked.

"Would you enjoy it from those who wish you dishonor?" she asked, sitting down on the damp ground and pulling off her mask. The bright red was in sharp contrast to the green of the grass. It looked forlorn as it rested there, alone. The early evening dew seeped through the thin fabric and she knew it would stain but she paid it little heed.

Its coolness felt good against her heated skin. After being inside the boiling hot of the palace rooms – and the intensity of the King's presence, she needed to breathe and feel something real. Though cold, the dew and the scent of earth cleansed her. What she couldn't quite understand was how being in the English Court could make her feel so trapped while the French Court, with its same trappings, had felt homier.

Hearing a gasp, she looked up at Jane, ready to ask snidely if there was a problem. The words stuck in her throat, she was struck by how unnatural the other girl looked in the moonlight, almost like a ghostly vision.

Her blonde hair took on an oddly bright shimmer of silken gold, highlighting the highly prized English paleness of her skin. The bluish green of her eyes that seemed so serene during the day held another aspect in the darkness. Standing in a moonbeam, even in that hideous virginal gown she had to wear, she captured one's attention and held it.

If it hadn't been blasphemy, she would have compared the girl to a moon goddess. Jane was far more attractive than even she had thought she could be.

She did not know that Jane was thinking the same of her, how very otherworldly Anne appeared to be in the moonlight. Her silken hair, always such a lovely shade of black, looked dark blue in this light with the shadowed light of the moon captured by the twists and knots twining about her heard. The dark eyes that so intrigued men looked far more mysterious and seductive at night.

Yet, there was a militant glint in them that sent shivers running through Jane. Anne resembled a fabled warrior goddess, powerful and beautiful in that certain way that the most confident of people were.

She was reminded suddenly of the legendary Boudicca, a woman she wasn't supposed to know about because of her 'unnaturalness' as a woman.

Jane stifled a second gasp at her blasphemous thoughts. "I am different than you, such a situation is not likely to happen to me. I am lucky to have even one suitor for my hand, though his success is in doubt. Than anyone else here at Court, for a plain, almost ugly girl like me could never reach as high as a beautiful lady like you," she demurred, shocked by Anne's laugh.

It sounded almost plaintive in the night, rather than gay – or bitter.

"You think that I am a great beauty?" her words were arch. "I've been called many things, but never that." Unlike her laugh, there was bitterness to the words.

Anne knew full well what men and women thought of her. She knew that her rather unfashionably dark appearance had often turned men away. How they compared her to the obvious blond and bounteous curves of the beautiful Mary. When she'd been younger, she'd envied her sister her looks.

At one time, she would've given anything to be as Mary.

It was one of the many things she'd had to learn to overcome while studying with Margaret and then in the Court of France, around such beauties. This thought that she would never measure up to the standards of beauty that the world had set. It was something she had pushed out of her mind by cultivating other aspects of her personality.

And she'd observed what it was about other females that drew men. Over time, she realized – mainly because of her tutor - that her eyes were compelling. If she could catch the men with them, she'd never lose them. Her figure had become another feature of pride, though slender, it was pleasing to the male eye.

At least, until she'd learned how to draw them in and keep them in her thrall.

Jane blushed and looked away, scuffing the ground with her shoe. Struggling with her words, "I didn't say…I mean, you are…Oh! Why must you tease me so? I know that you are not considered a beauty by conventional standards but you have an appealing look to you. There's something about you that is a natural draw, I just wish…"

"Yes?" Anne asked, intrigued by Jane's take on her. Usually, the Ladies at Court wanted her to disappear even as they tried to emulate her. The English Court had a dreadful French envy – and she was the embodiment of it. She thought she knew the younger girl well enough to believe that she didn't want to be Anne.

To anyone listening, it sounded as though Jane wouldn't mind being her.

But Anne sensed that it was something else – Jane just wanted more confidence in herself. That was something that no other being had wanted from Anne. They wanted her style, her grace, and her way with men – never had they wanted to be as confident as she was. They also wanted her to be meek and submissive, to just instantly obey and do what they wanted.

She found she rather liked the idea of some one not envying her style, but her confidence.

Jane glanced over at Anne, noting the look in her eyes. "You told me that it is impolite to fish for compliments, my lady, for it revealed a desperation that was unattractive," her reply was uncharacteristically sharp. "Accept them with grace and dignity but never fish about for them."

Anne laughed again, one that was more natural sounding, "Oh, I know – but I adore watching you twit yourself about so ridiculously. You are wondrously entertaining, Jane."

"I am glad one of us finds me so," she replied, relieved to hear the familiar laugh once again.

"Oh, Jane, don't pout. It's as unattractive as fishing about for compliments is. As is putting yourself down so terribly," she reminded her of her earlier words.

"I only speak truth," she protested.

She'd heard all her life about how plain, how boring she was. Her mother had remarked that it was a good thing they didn't have to worry about marrying off the girls in order – otherwise, they'd never get any of them married off once it came to Jane. And her slouching and hiding in corners didn't help matters any – nor did her habit of following her brothers about.

While hurt, she'd pushed it aside, devoting herself to becoming the perfect image of what a man wanted from a wife, hoping that would be enough. Her mother had seemed pleased to see her dedicate herself to such a cause.

And she tried to ignore the fact that her younger sister looked like her and yet, was far prettier.

"Beauty is part nature – and part a matter of self image. The rest can be brought about by artifice," her words were matter of fact. It was something one of her teachers had told her when she'd been comparing herself to Mary and only finding herself lacking in everything that made Mary so beautiful. It was a lesson Anne had never forgotten and had quickly taken to heart – because she'd found it to be true. "You make yourself far more unattractive than you really are by the way dress."

Jane looked down at her white dress, unadorned and lacking the sharp cut that Anne's had. Even though it was a costume, it was an example of the smart outfits that Anne always wore. That many others in the Court wore, she was aware of several girls her age who were trying to convince their parents to let them dress so. "It is the proper dress for one of my age and standing."

"You don't need to dress scandalously in order to dress appealingly," Anne said with a shake of her head. "I am not so foolish as to suggest such a thing."

"Then what are you saying?" she asked.

"Just that…" Whatever wisdom she was about to impart stopped when Edward Seymour arrived.

Anne had not known what to make of him from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. In her vast experience with men, she had never met anyone she felt such instant distrust towards. Detestation at first sight was something she'd never heard said before but it fit their situation perfectly.

It was no secret that he felt the same way about her. That may have more to do with the fact that she saw right through him and wouldn't play his games. And while one could detest someone and yet, use them, she could never act so with him. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it. He'd tried to get into her circle of admirers – and she shut him out cold.

As a result, he was as insulting towards her as he could politely get away with. If there was one thing she was actually grateful towards her father for, it was that nothing to scurrilous could be said about her because of her father's powerful position.

And, of course, there was the fact that her sister was known to be tight with the King.

In all the Courts she'd been in, she'd never met such a cold fish like him. And though Jane was far too polite to say it – and her adoration for her older brother prevented it – she knew that there would be accord between them on this. While she may be blinded by the closeness she and George shared, she knew that none of it existed between the Seymour siblings.

It was beyond her understanding how any older brother could be so uncaring towards their sister.

Of course, Jane had a close relationship with her father, one that Anne envied. From what she had heard of him, she could not imagine that Sir John would do to Jane what her own father was doing to her – and had done to Mary. Looking into Edward's ice cold blue eyes – so similar and yet, so unlike the blue of Jane's that it made her uneasy – she could easily see him doing so.

And Jane would placidly go along with it, just as she did everything else. To Jane, it would be nothing more than doing what she was told was her duty. No matter how she may personally feel about it, doing her duty seemed to be the only thing that gave the girl courage and strength. Anne wondered just what had happened to her to make her so…so subservient. She knew there was more to Jane than she allowed the world to see.

"What are you doing?" his voice was unpleasant, rather hard sounding.

"Taking in the night air for it is stifling inside," she stepped back, as if trying to fade into the wall.

Edward sneered, "With that person?"

The contempt for her companion hung heavy in his voice. While true he had tried to get in good with her in the beginning, he realized quickly that she was of no use to him. Her French ways rubbed him wrong. And he still stung from the way that she had showed him up intellectually. Like most men in his circles, he had little use for a woman who knew more than she should. Education ruined a woman, making them manly.

He valiantly ignored the voice inside that said his irritation with her had more to do with pride and less to do with Anne herself.

Instead, he focused on Anne, with her broad European education. She was one of those women he felt was a danger to the stability of the English kingdom. He'd heard various rumors that she was questionable when it came to religion. It was even spoken in whispers that she even had read the works of Martin Luther and found them to be most pleasing.

Any one like that was no one his sister should be associating with.

It mystified him that the Queen would allow the two to have any kind of association. One would have thought that she would show more common sense. But then, she was an educated woman. It had to have done something bad to her mind for her to believe that it was all right to encourage them in such a fashion.

Again, he ignored the voice that told him he was being more prideful than logical.

"Please, don't talk to or about the Lady Anne like that, Edward. She has done nothing to earn your derision," Jane's voice was a firm as she could make it sound.

His icy smile chilled Anne. It occurred to her that he might not be quite so kind in his next action which was not something she wished upon Jane – especially over her. Rising to her feet, she made to interfere but his words cut her off.

Again.

It was beginning to annoy her.

"Jane, you are coming with me now. Father will not be happy that you have disobeyed his orders to stay away from people like her."

"Father told me no such thing," she protested, wincing when he grabbed her arm, pulling her back inside with him.

"He did not believe it necessary as his instructions were for you to act modestly. To be discreet and a credit to the family. It is the only way to make sure that the Dormers look favorably upon any union between us and them," his smug voice made Anne's hand itch and she was grateful the door shut behind him.

The last thing she wished to do was alienate Jane. And she knew that slapping Edward – no matter how much the cretin was begging for it- would do just that. Although, she reflected, Jane's quiet defense of her showed that she was starting to gain that loyalty for herself.

Idly playing with some of the leaves, she wondered what to do with herself now. Consciously she knew that she should return to the hall for the rest of the evening. The Queen would have noticed her absence by now, if she hadn't already retired to her nightly prayers.

Besides, the King had definitely been intrigued by her. If she didn't return after that, her father would be very displeased with her. But whether it was because of the heat of the moment or it was genuine interest, she could not say for sure. Whatever it was, it was not something she was happy about encouraging.

Everything inside of her longed for Percy's imminent arrival. She chaffed at the delay, fearing only bad news kept him from returning when he'd been scheduled to do so. Still, it was to be hoped that he was merely delayed by travel conditions. That when he came back, he would bring with him good news.

Now that the situation with Piers had been successfully torn asunder due to her father's stubbornness and his father's pride, there was nothing standing in their way. She resolutely ignored the King's possible intentions towards her person, her father's very real attitude of dominating her life with his actions - and the fact that there was a half-contract already between Percy's father and one of his neighbors.

If they could be wed, she might be able to bear the King's attention with a good deal more grace than she felt. Queen Katharine's gracious attitude towards the King's affairs gave her hope for she knew that theirs was a union based on mutual respect and love. So it had to be true. The love of a good man could make even the most untenable situation easier to endure.

She resolutely closed her mind to the possibility that the Duke might say no.

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Boy, some of that came out far slashier than I had intended. I do apologize and hope I haven't offended anyone, but that is what my muse was saying. I was trying to draw parallels in that neither of these women were beautiful in the traditional sense – especially dark eyed Anne for when she came to Court, blue eyed, blonds were the rage. (Actually, I don't think that preference has ever disappeared.)
And Jane was considered almost homely in looks but that there had to be something physically about her that caught the eye. Henry is not exactly about seeing the inside of one first, he sees the outward appearance first. Well, every rendition I've seen of when Henry becomes aware of Jane's, uhm, potential sexiness, they've always been shadowed by fire. So, I made it an outside, night scene in which Anne makes the observation of Jane.
And Jane makes her observations of Anne. One of the things I liked about The Tudors (the show, obviously) is that none of the wives were like gorgeous, there was something about them but they all looked normal.
Yes, the whole Edward and Jane sibling relationship is based more on the show than history in which I guess that they were close, much like George and Anne were. I wanted to show different familial relationships. EG, Jane and Edward were not close, but she and her dad were. Whereas Anne and her father were not, while she and George were. Hope it works out all right.

Answer - Henry himself. (Not who anyone was expecting, right?) lol What say you, loyal readers?