Just as her father had promised, Mary found herself at court sometime soon after her twelfth birthday. Without her brothers, she felt somewhat alone, as she was used to having them constantly at her side. Her eldest brother, Henry, now fourteen years old, found himself at Windsor being reared with the king's illegitimate child, Henry FitzRoy, who was two years, his junior at the age of twelve. Despite their two-year age different, the boys began to develop a very strong bond of friendship. Mary was in constant and consistent correspondence with both of her brothers while she was away, as well as her mother, to her father's dismay.

Dearest Henry,

I cannot count the amount of times I think of you in one day and miss you with all my heart. Although I have tried to be a social butterfly, as father wishes me to be, I can't help but feel like the black sheep in the herd at times. These ladies who surround Anne, they like to gossip and talk amongst themselves of other people. I fear that when I turn my back for a moment, they will talk about me, and at these times, I wish you were here by my side more than ever.

Despite feeling like the odd one out at times, I do enjoy the life at Whitehall very much. It is very entertaining, and our dear cousin Anne is a very sweet lady who has been very kind and caring towards me, especially in my time of worry. I have yet to meet the king personally, but he seems jolly when he is not arguing with one of his council members about securing his annulment to Queen Catherine. I hope that all of these arrangements will be done with soon so that Anne may be queen at last and free to give the king the son he has always wanted.

I hope things are more than well with you at Windsor, and with dear Harry too. Say hello to him for me and give him my best wishes, and take yours too. Sweet brother, I hope to speak to you again soon, please write me back of your doings and the happenings at Windsor, as I am sure it must be an exciting place to be as well.

Yours truly,

Mary Howard

Mary spent most of her days attending dutifully on her lady, Mistress Anne. She loved her very much, and Anne loved her back with all the love she had left to bear, for she told Mary that most of her love belonged to the king.

"Except for the part that belongs to you, my sweet cousin!" Anne would say, kissing Mary on the cheek before she dismissed her each day.

After she was dismissed from her duties to her lady, Mary would usually return to her room and write in her journal, and then write a letter to one of her brothers, or her mother. She would alternate the recipient of her letter every few days. Once a week, with only some exceptions, she would spend the evening with her father, usually reading her book in silence as he went through papers. Sometimes he would take a break and let her read to him, or let her sing to him; whatever his preference was that day. Those were the moments Mary cherished most at court, the ones spent at her father's side.

When Anne would insist that Mary came dancing in the evening, and did not retire early, Mary often felt uncomfortable. She was the youngest lady-in-waiting to Anne, and one of the youngest girls at court. Of course, she was well respected and treated due to her relationship to Anne and of course, her father, the Duke of Norfolk, who was very much feared at court, though Mary could not see why.

Some of the younger men at court, and some of the older men, would come sit with Mary and chat with her. When they asked her last name, however, and found out who her father was, they often ran the other way.

"Don't worry Mary, we have bigger plans for you." Anne would tell her after such an incident occurred. "They will regret their decisions when they look back on these moments in a couple of years."

Mary believed Anne's words with all her heart, but found her time at court to be very lonely and depressing nonetheless. Her only comforts were her letters from her family she received and her father himself, but as time went by, and Anne got closer and closer to the throne at last, even her father started to drift from her.

When Mary's thirteenth birthday came around, she was reluctant to spend it at court.

"Papa, why could I not have gone home for my birthday? I have had my birthday at home every year of my life! Why could I not have gone home?" Mary questioned her father as they sat down for a dinner for two in his privy chambers at Whitehall.

Thomas sighed and looked at his daughter seriously for a moment. "Don't you want to spend your birthday with me?" he asked. He then looked to one of his servants and motioned for him to bring out the food; the servant obeyed and ran from the room to fetch their dinners.

"Yes, of course I do papa… but you used to come home for my birthday celebrations. Why couldn't we have both gone home?"

Thomas folded his hands together in front of him, twiddling his thumbs slightly. "You are old enough now Mary that you do not need to spend you birthday at home."

She looked down at the table, ashamed, suddenly, that she had asked any questions at all. "I am sorry for pestering you, papa."

Thomas sighed and looked at his daughter, taking his hand to tilt her chin up so she would stop looking at the table. "Now, Mary, don't be silly. I am not angry with you, but don't you agree with what I have said? You are thirteen now! A teenager! You're no longer a little girl."

Mary nodded her head glumly. "I know papa, it's just that I miss Henry and Tom and mama a lot when I am here. I barely get to see you lately, and I have only Anne to keep me company, and she is a busy woman, of course. I admit that I am very lonely."

He could not help but sympathize with her. If any other of his more distant relatives had said this to him, he would have told them to grow up and start acting like the adult they are supposed to be, but he could not bring himself to yell at his own daughter. She was such a strong girl; she was just alone; Thomas knew very much what that was like. He reached over and put a hand on Mary's back, rubbing it comfortingly. "My Mary…" he began. "You know I love you very much and I try to be with you as much as I can while you are here. I wish you had told me earlier that you were lonely. Have you been like this all year?"

She looked up at him blankly for a moment, with her saucer eyes, and then she nodded. "Yes, papa. I have been like this all year."

He sighed again and shook his head, still rubbing her back. "Well, as your mothers present to you this year then, you can go home for a few days next week and I will make sure your brother is home then too. How does that sound?"

She opened her mouth, speechless for a moment, and then grinned. "Oh papa! Really? That sounds perfect! I have missed Henry so much!" She jolted out of her seat and wrapped her arms around her father, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me."

He chuckled. "I have a slight idea, I think, but please, let's enjoy our time together while we have it then, okay?"

She nodded and kissed him once more on the cheek and then skipped happily back to her seat, ready to enjoy a dinner alone with her dearest papa.

She did not receive anywhere near as many presents as usual; only from mother and father this year, and mothers gift was for her to come home and fathers; a new necklace, a new pair of shoes and a new gown. Her father's presents were always her favourite, but this year, she had to admit, it was close game. After she received her gifts and their dinner was through, desserts and all, Mary told her father she was tired and that she needed to retire early before a hard day of work tomorrow, as it always was with Anne.

"Good night my Mary." Thomas whispered to her as he embraced her tightly. He could not describe how proud of her he was; so dedicated to her position. He saw a lot of him in her that day, the loneliness and the hard-working attitude combined, she was definitely his daughter.

"Sleep well, papa." She whispered back.

Thomas released her from his grasp after several seconds of holding on and waved her off to bed. He had one of his servants escort her through the dark halls, afraid that she might bump into some drunken idiot on her way back to her rooms.

He thought a lot that night about how she was now a teenager, and no longer his little Mary. She may not have realized it that night, but it would only be a matter of time before her interests turned from him to other things, and then they would slowly drift apart. His heart ached at only the idea; he could not let her drift away and leave him to return to the loneliness he had felt for so many years before her, since the death of his first wife, Anne. He could not go back to feeling that way, not ever again. He would have to find a way to hold onto her and keep her from drifting.