La Reine Des Coeurs
'I'm burning alive
I can barely breathe
When you're here loving me'
Fire Meet Gasoline by Sia
12th February 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London
Red curls bounced around slender shoulders as the little girl rushed along the hallways of the grand palace. Her dark eyes were alert and intelligent, eagerly drinking in her surroundings as she dashed after her Governess, pausing every now and then when she came across her favourite portraits. She was excited to see her Papa, but she was even more enthusiastic to see her Mama.
"Come along, Princess" called Margaret Bryan, her stern face softening as she looked at her young charge's eager face.
"Coming, coming. Muggie. Princess is coming" sang the young toddler, clapping her hands at the cleverest of her tune.
Lady Bryan smiled at her charge again, slowing down to take the young Princess' hand. She was an intelligent child, bright and eager to devour knowledge. She was certainly charming, and she was fairly obedient for her young age. Princess Elizabeth was a pretty child, slender and willowy like her mother but tall like her father. She had the bright red Tudor hair and her mother's piercing eyes. A perfect mix of Boleyn and Tudor, Margaret thought, squeezing her great-niece's hand.
Margaret had been ecstatic when her dear niece, Anne, had asked her to be Lady Governess to the Princess. It had been a great honour, one that came with the title of Baroness, and she was glad that she had taken it, pleased to have such a loving child in her care.
Margaret reached the large chambers of her Majesty and carefully instructed Elizabeth's attendants to go to the Royal Nursery and make sure everything was up to scratch, before turning to the oak door and knocking.
A thin, willowy lady with pretty blue eyes and dark hair opened the door, her lined face breaking into a large grin at the sight before her.
"Sister" smiled Margaret, releasing Elizabeth's hand to enclose her younger half-sister into a hug.
"Lady Grandmother" smiled Elizabeth, her hands reaching up for a cuddle with her kind grandmother.
Countess Boleyn smiled at her granddaughter's eagerness, sweeping her into her arms and kissing her face.
"My dear, dear Lizabeth, have you been a good girl? Are you excited to see your mama?" asked Countess Boleyn fondly, placing her little granddaughter back on the floor and smoothing out her green gown.
"Yes, Lady Grandmother, Lizabeth excited to see mama" squealed the Princess, screwing her nose as she felt someone ruffle her hair.
"Grandfather" she squealed, wrapping her arm round Thomas Boleyn's leg before thrusting out a palm.
"Awh Lizabeth, you need to be a very good girl when you go in to see Mama, she is very tired" Thomas said softly before indulgently placing a barley sugar in to Elizabeth's outstretched palm as she nodded solemnly.
"Come then, sweetheart" smiled Countess Boleyn, taking one of Elizabeth's hands as her husband took the other before they entered the Queen's private chambers, Baroness Bryan following after them.
XX
12th February 1536, Palace Of Placentia, Greenwich, London
"Your Majesty" curtsied the toddler, before whipping her head up and fleeing to her mother.
"Mama" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her thin mother.
"My dear Lizabeth" smiled her mother tiredly, stroking the red curls that adorned her daughter's head. She pulled Elizabeth close, allowing her to climb under the coverings of the bed and press against her tightly. Anne loved moments like this, where she felt like a mother rather than a Queen. Anne tiredly pressed a tender kiss to her daughter's forehead, before nodding gratefully at her mother and father by the side of her bed.
"Aunt" greeted Anne, acknowledging Margaret who stood properly by the side of the room, giving Anne space with her child.
"Majesty" curtsied Margaret, eyes crinkling at the sight of the mother and daughter in front of her.
Anne beckoned Margaret to her side, eager to hear about her darling child's progress. Every month, she awaited the Governess' letter containing news and it always saddened her that she couldn't see her child as often as she wished. If Anne had her own way, her children would remain by her side forever. Margaret sat in the armchair by the bedside, her thin lips already stretching into a smile.
"Madame, Princess Elizabeth is excelling as always. She enjoys English the best as she loves going through her hornbook. She can now do simple mathematic sums too! I have also begun to teach her simple French as you had asked. I would suggest, Your Majesty, that you look at employing a languages tutor for the Princess as well as a music teacher as these are both subject that the Princess is interested in".
Elizabeth grinned, knowing her mother would fuss her for doing well as always, and she was right as Anne kissed Elizabeth and whispered promises of new dresses and a rocking horse for her room.
The door swung open suddenly and the Earl and Countess of Wiltshire re-entered, both carrying a small bundle.
"Lizabeth" smiled Anne, taking one of the infants into her arm and pulling Elizabeth closer with her other one, "meet your baby brothers".
Elizabeth peered at the small baby in her mother's arm, her hand reaching out to stroke the tuft of hair on the babe's head. The baby looked just like her and it excited Elizabeth.
"This baby is called George" Anne said, readjusting the yawning babe in her arm, smiling as he peered at his big sister.
Elizabeth pouted, her brow furrowed.
"No, mama. Why does he have Uncle George's name?" questioned Elizabeth, angrily, poking baby George, her eyes widening as the babe burped loudly at her.
"Oh Lizabeth, sweetie, it's an honour for Uncle George to have the baby named after him" whispered Anne, hoping to pacify her sensitive daughter.
Elizabeth's face switched expressions quickly, a beam on her face.
"Oh Mama, that's nice. We can call the baby Georgie".
Countess Boleyn clapped, "Oh, what a clever idea! Prince Georgie, it is".
Thomas moved round to the other side of the spacious bed and showed Elizabeth the other child in his arms.
"And this Lizabeth, is your youngest brother, Louis".
XX
14th February 1536, The Church of the Observant Friars, Greenwich, London
The day of the twin' christening had arrived, and much to Henry's delight, his boys were only getting stronger and bigger as time went on, clearly thriving on their mother's milk. Anne, as customary, was not to be at the christening, recovering still from the traumatic birth. It did not bother Henry that Anne was not by his side, all he could focus on was the fact that the whole of Europe now knew his marriage was blessed and that England had two healthy boys.
The font, of silver, stood in the midst of the church three steps high, covered with a fine cloth. Over it hung a crimson satin canopy fringed with gold, and round it was a rail covered with red say. One side sat the proxies of the royals that had been invited as godparents to the twins and the other sat the godparents of nobility.
The Archbishop of Canterbury. Thomas Cranmer, cradled Prince George and the Bishop of London held Prince Louis. Princess Elizabeth was cradled in her grandfather's arms, carefully watching her brothers.
The babe's wailed loudly as the holy water was splashed onto their heads and the courtiers cheered, glad that their Princes were free from the Devil now. Princess Elizabeth wriggled angrily in her grandfather's arms before directing a well-placed kick at the Bishop of London for daring to make her brothers cry.
A herald blew his horn, and Thomas Cranmer stood to deliver the oaths to the godparents.
Henry smiled again. Elizabeth's christening had been a beautiful one and very expensive and her godparents were the Archbishop of Canterbury (who had escaped Elizabeth's kick) and the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk and the Marchionesses of Exeter and Dorset. But for his sons, everything was triple the expense and their godparents were royalty.
Prince George, as heir apparent, had Francis I of France and his namesake, George Boleyn – Viscount Rochford, as godfathers and Anne's dear friend, Marguerite of Navarre, and Jane Boleyn as godmothers.
Prince Louis' godfathers were James V of Scotland and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. His godmothers were Lady Margaret Douglas and Dowager Queen Margaret of Scotland.
And as the royal canopies were carried back toward the palace by the Knights of the Garter, voices from the gathering crowd were heard.
"God Bless Princess Elizabeth, God Bless Prince George and God Bless Prince Louis!"
XX
17th January 1536, Palace of Placentia, Greenwich, London
Once the Queen was churched, the court was moving to Hampton Court, the Queen's favourite residence. Princess Elizabeth and the boys were due to come with the court and spend a few days there before Elizabeth went back to Hatfield.
It had only been three days since the christening of the Princes and the day afterwards, the King had honoured Edward and Thomas Seymour places on the Privy Council, to George's horror. His father, Thomas, had all but commanded that George was not to tell Anne that this appointment was the result of the weak looking milksop opening her legs, in case it made her milk go funny. George always thought his father saw Anne as some weak child which irritated him, probably as much as it irritated her.
The unjust appointment of those Seymours had brought George and his partner-in-crime as well as wife, Jane to their chambers. George had paid off the staff in their household to leave the chambers unlocked and now they were both sneaking in.
"George, I really don't think we should be doing this" whispered Jane Boleyn, her green eyes narrowed at her husband's antics, her arms full of sheets.
"Hush Jane, it's only a little fun and they deserve it" snickered George, opening the door to their chambers and entering the room he knew was Jane Seymour's.
Jane Boleyn shrugged, she couldn't disagree with him on that even though her husband exasperated her. The little whore deserved it for sure. Dear Anne, was so kind to her, kinder than she needed to be to her sister-in-law, and it pleased Jane immensely. Anne was exactly the sort of person everyone wished they were and if they couldn't be like her then being her closest companion was the next best thing.
"Drop it on the bed" called George, rooting through Seymour's drawers before coming across what he wanted. The bible in Latin, a Roman Catholic's greatest possession. Another snigger rippled through him as he withdrew the bible and replaced it with Martin Luther's Protestant bible.
Jane dropped the sheets on the bed unceremoniously, a smirk playing at her face. It was times like this that she knew she loved George, they were so similar, cut from the same cloth. She pulled the top sheet off the bundle of cloths releasing the hundreds of spiders and insects.
"Come George, let's go. I feel that our chambers are awaiting" smirked Jane, tugging at George's palm, their gleeful eyes meeting as they ran from the chambers before running straight into someone.
"George, Jane, what are you doing in the Seymours' private chambers?" questioned Countess Elizabeth Boleyn, a thin brow raised at the redden faces of her son and daughter-in-law.
XX
Notes: Please note that this chapter contains some time jumps (only consisting of a matter of days but I don't wish for anyone to be confused.
Margaret Bryan was created Baroness Bryan in 1516, upon being created Lady Governess to Princess Mary. In this story, Margaret Bryan was not the governess to Princess Mary and therefore the title was given in 1533 upon the birth of Princess Elizabeth.
As always, thank you all for your reviews, follows and favourites. It is truly motivational.
I love Kol Mikaelson – I hope you like this chapter. I feel that you will. Thank you for taking the time to review.
Guest Reviewer – I'm impartial to Jane Seymour. She is going to be morally grey like most people are. She has her good traits and she has her bad traits. If you have an account, please message me with your ideas for a comeuppance. I do think Henry needs to grow up but unfortunately, I think he will be a slow learner. Thank you for taking the time to review.
Kara – I agree with you. I don't think an English prince would historically be named Louis, but I think it serves to show that Anne is hurting. I doubt she would want to name her child Henry or Edward (as that's what Henry wanted). I did consider William, but I have other plans for that name. I think Jane will get her comeuppance though. Thank you for taking the time to review.
Child Of Dreams – Yes, Henry is a liar. Unfortunately for our main character, Henry is a very charming man and Anne loves him.