This one shot is inspired by the story of a little boy giving Elizabeth flowers while she was imprisoned in the Tower. It probably had nothing to do with Robert Dudley, but I like to believe that he was the prisoner trying to communicate with Elizabeth through the flowers. This is fiction and fanfiction so I can write about it if I want to! ;)

Told through Robert's perspective. I may write a companion piece from Elizabeth's perspective. I will have more one shots coming soon. I had to take a break because school was sucking the creativity out of me (sort of the opposite of what school should be doing, but that's neither here nor there).

Her head was turning towards him and he caught her slight surprise at seeing him. She recovered quickly and if it wasn't for his familiarity with the girl behind the princess, no one would have ever seen it. His lips curved into a smile and he bowed slightly. There she was. The Lady Elizabeth, daughter of Henry VIII, heir to the throne. They had been close since they were children, but after Lady Jane Grey's disastrous reign and his subsequent imprisonment for his participation, he hadn't seen much of her.

He could see all of her now. Her pretty pale skin framed by fiery red hair, her dark eyes that looked as if they could see straight into his soul. She wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His wife was much prettier, but Elizabeth had the most mesmerizing face he had ever laid eyes on.

Since his imprisonment, he was allowed visits from his wife. It a was welcome relief from the dark and dank scenery of the Tower. Amy's eyes always lit up when she saw him and she was always filled with wifely concern.

But all of Amy's beauty was shattered by one look at Elizabeth. He had never seen her mother, but he had heard whispers of Elizabeth's shocking resemblance to her. Anne Boleyn was apparently not a typical beauty, but her charms made her more appealing than any English Rose.

Elizabeth's coloring made her deceptively Tudor, but it was obvious that at heart she was thoroughly Boleyn. It was evident in the way she could entice him with one glance, how he felt forever drawn to her.

Her lips parted to reveal a smile. In her hands was a bouquet of flowers given to her by a little boy during her walks in the privy garden. She raised them to her nose, took in their scent, and then cocked her head to the side and stared pointedly at him.

He knew that she was asking if he had anything to do with the flowers that had been delivered to her daily by the little boy. He merely gave her a smirk and placed his hand over his heart.

She broke out into laughter and he knew that she had gotten the message. Pulling one of the flowers from the bouquet, she broke the stem in half and placed it in her hair.

Never had she looked more radiant than she did now, with the flower in her russet curls and a bright smile adorning her face. He was happy to know that he had a hand in her happiness, but he was not fooled by her high spirits. Underneath her dark eyes were heavy shadows and lines of worry crept across her face. She had the strength of several men, but he knew the memories of her mother and cousin who hadn't left the Tower alive were probably eating away at her. There was a part of him that would gladly sacrifice his own neck for hers, but there was another part of him that knew that wouldn't be necessary. She didn't need any saving.

He brought his fingers up to his lips and kissed them softly. She did the same and turned from him slowly. He knew that he had spent enough time with her and at any moment a guard would tell him to move. Even though he took a step away from her, every part of his body was resisting.

In the distance he heard Elizabeth asking the boy how she looked and his response that she was the prettiest lady he had ever seen.

As he turned to look once more at her, she did the same and their eyes caught for a brief moment. It was over as soon as it began, but if he had to face the executioner's axe he would take that last sweet glimpse with him to his grave.