Chapter 7 – In which I made new friends

The New Year had come and passed so quickly. After a while, I stood silently and realized in awe that months had passed since my triumphal return to court. Strangely though, it had not felt like months, more like days. So many new and exciting things had happened that I had barely noticed how the sand had run through the hourglass.

In January, Anne had made good on her promise to take me to the seamstress. She had been courteous and polite enough, but still, we had not found a common ground other than our love for my father. And of that I was sure quite rapidly: that she truly did love him. Whatever faults she had, simply marrying him for power and fame was none of them. But, as I said, we did not manage to get on more amiable terms.

Her sister, though, was another matter altogether. Mary Boleyn was perfectly sweet right from the moment I was introduced to her. At first, I was hesitant to buy her charms because she was a Boleyn, so her kindness was most likely just a clever scheme. But after spending a few hours with her, I realized she had to be an even more accomplished actress than Anne to pull off that stunt. No, Mary was genuine. And, God, was she nice.

We would meet again at court after the visit, and whenever we met, we would talk. At first, those were just short exchanges of pleasantries, but after a while (and especially in the weeks before the wedding), she would come to visit and eat cakes. What can I say? It definitely came as a surprise to me, but Mary and I have become friends.

And how could we not? Since I entered this alternate past, everyone acted weirdly around me, always driven by some kind of agenda. My mother wanted to see me as Queen, Henry wanted obedience and kindness, Anne wanted me out of her way, and most of the court wanted to know what game I was playing. But not Mary, she simply enjoyed my company, and I hers. She asked me about my feelings considering my father's remarriage to her sister, not because her ambitious father was using her as a spy, but because she cared for my emotions.

"I am fine with it," I assured her. "I understand why you would think otherwise, but I have no objections to this marriage. My parents are no longer married and as you may have heard, I was part of the negotiations. I understand why it had to be done."

"You are to be admired for such bravery. I know it would pain me if my parents were ever to part, even though I am a woman grown." Mary smiled at me. "Still, can you accept my sister as your mother's replacement? It must surely be hard to have her bow to you now knowing that soon, you will bow to her."

Wasn't she lovely?, I thought and nodded. "Of course it may seem odd… but I suppose that is how it is. I shall get used to it. And please, let me assure you again that I bear this marriage no ill will. His Majesty seems to be very happy with your sister, and she seems very fond of him. I ought to be glad that he has found someone to match his inclinations. And of course I shall pray night and day for her to bear him strong, healthy children."

Mary nodded, too, but more slowly. She seemed to ponder whether or not to tell me what was on her mind. Anne, I thought, would have simply shrugged it off, but Mary was unlike her sister. She felt the urge to be honest at all cost.

"Anne prays for the same. She wishes so much to give the King a son to be his living image," Mary said very carefully. I did not know whether it was because she had been Henry's mistress, too, or whether she feared exposing her sister's secrets. "Like any woman, she is troubled by the notion that she might lose a child or bear but daughters. And I fear… um…"

"What my father would do," I completed her sentence matter-of-factly. "Do you wish to know what I think?"

Mary nodded again, this time even more slowly. She seemed quite afraid the conversation might prove harmful to someone she loved. Anne, most likely.

"The King would be disappointed if your sister gave him a daughter. He has me and he loves me, but I am not enough for a King. He needs a son to rule after him," I replied bluntly. "But that does not mean she needs to fear him. His Majesty would see past his disappointment and look to the wonderful present she has given him. Surely, if her daughter was anything like your sister, he would love her just as much as he loves the Lady Anne. Tell her not to fret, for it would be harmful for any child she may carry. If she wishes to please the King, she has to bear him healthy children. Daughter or not, sons will one day follow."

"I know you would say something wise," Mary said assuaged. "And if I may ask a favor, do not tell my sister we spoke about the matter. She worries far too much about what others would speak of her."

I shook my head and offered her another cake. "Certainly not. I would not betray your trust, for I consider you my friend. And I hope that, in time, your sister, too, will see me as a friend."

"She will," Mary assured me. "She is very much enamored with the King right now, but within time, she will come to realize the charming young lady you are. She is lucky to have you as her stepdaughter."

"You're flattering me."

Mary laughed. "No, not at all, Your Highness. I certainly know I'd consider myself a lucky woman to have you as part of my family. Which, by extension, I soon will, won't I? So I am lucky indeed."

I nodded and smiled, but inside, I was unhappy. Why did he not marry her? The sentence repeated itself over and over again in my head. Why did my father fall out of love with Mary? Yes, yes, I know, she was sweet and pliable where Anne was a wildfire. And she was probably neither as smart nor as witty as Anne, but still, why? I would have loved to have her as my stepmother, to see her cradle my brothers and sisters, and most of all, to bow to her. Because somehow, she was right after all. It did sting, this idea of having to bow before Anne, not because I could not accept anyone above me, but because she was so… arrogant. Haughty. Because she seemed like she would enjoy so much seeing me curtsy before her. As if she wanted to put me in my place. Of course, possessing a modern mind, I understood she was not acting out of malice. She was probably just afraid of what harm I could cause her and her future children, of how much power I had over Henry's heart. Rationally, I understood all of it. But it still aggravated me; a feeling that would continue until I had bowed to her a few times after the wedding. I couldn't stay angry for long when everyone was so elated.

Most happy (despite it being Anne's motto) of all was my father. Gosh, I swear he was never more cheerful and charming than in the months after his wedding. He had all he wanted: a large crowd of Londoners had jubilated and exulted for him and his new wife. He finally had Anne, the woman he had madly loved for years. And soon, he would have his heir.

By June, Anne's pregnancy could no longer be hidden, so a public announcement was made. A day before that, my father had shared the news with me, although it didn't really come as a surprise. I assumed that they had finally consummated their relationship even before the wedding, for as the pregnancy progressed, it seemed likely she would give birth in September. Perhaps fate wanted Elizabeth born no matter what? Still, I couldn't be sure whether or not it was the same pregnancy, or whether my interference had changed the course of history.

"I have never seen the King any happier," I honestly recounted to Mary Boleyn when I met her a few days after my conversation with my father. "He cannot seem to speak about anything else. The jousts and banquets he has planned will be superb. He is even having a new cradle made especially for the baby."

"My sister is joyful as well. We must thank the Lord that he has blessed them so quickly," Mary returned smiling.

I nodded. "I can assure you that the Queen and the babe in her womb are part of my every daily prayer." Of course I didn't actually pray, but I had gotten used to playing the part. "And the King, of course. He was almost giddy with excitement when he told me about my new baby brother. Once he's born, when I need no longer be Princess of Wales, he said he'll start looking for suitors."

Mary clapped her hands and laughed. "Oh, praise the Lord. You must be so delighted to hear it!"

I frowned. "Hear what? Oh… the suitors, you mean?"

I had rather mentioned it by accident, along the way. How could I discuss the topic with her? Part of me wanted to because I had barely thought about anything else after my father had mentioned it, but I knew I couldn't. How could I explain to her my thoughts about the matter? That I didn't want a foreign marriage, for example, because that would lead me away from my mission to change England's history? That I wanted a husband who would not keep me from political work, but encourage me to do so? That, in truth, I did not feel comfortable at all with the idea of marrying someone I barely knew, since it was no common practice where I came from? Well, I couldn't.

So instead of relieving my troubled mind, I said: "I… couldn't know."

"Trust me, you will love being married. Surely the King will allow only the finest of suitors to court you, princes and dukes, or kings, even! And you will love being a mother."

"Ah, I'm not sure about it," I replied instinctively, instantly realizing that what I had said was far too modern to sound normal for her.

Instead of looking at me quizzing, however, Mary touched my hands gently. "Forgive me, my Princess, but I want to assure you that there is nothing to fear. You will be a wonderful mother. Do not let them frighten you with stories about the dangers and pains of childbirth. Whatever they say, it is the Lord's will that we pass through the ordeal, and he built us to match. When they place the tiny bundle in your arms, you know you'll never love anyone as fiercely, not even your husband."

Her kindness forced me to smile even though my mind was still troubled. She couldn't know I had never particularly cared for having children. All she tried to do was ease my mind, and strangely, it worked somehow.

"Thank you, Lady Mary. No one here speaks to me as sincerely as you. I hope I can one day repay your kindness. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask."

In this moment, I hoped that she would mention her uncertain nuptial situation. I knew that she would soon secretly marry William Stafford without royal consent and hoped to prevent the damage it would cause her family. Did she already know him? Had matters been set in motion before I was able to stop them? But unfortunately, she said nothing, and I had to be content with waiting.

Then came the 7th of September. I had longed for and dreaded the day at the same time. If Anne went into labor today, I knew what would happen. I would have the smartest, sweetest sister there ever was, but my father would be upset. I couldn't decide what to wish for, and in my uncertainty, I found myself actually praying, not just pretending. I just didn't know what to pray for.

If there is a God, or some kind of fate, or even just chance, they took away that decision from me. They chose that what needs to happen will happen, and so, after many hours of listening to Anne's painful cries echoing from inside the birthing chamber, my little sister was born.

Elizabeth.

Anne had not wanted me inside the chamber, but some time after her cries had ebbed away, her sister Mary came out to wash and clothe the baby. She seemed exhausted but happy.

"Meet your sister, Your Highness," she said proudly. "She is the very image of the King."

I looked at the little red bundle and suddenly understood what Mary had wanted to tell me. From an impartial point of view, it was just a tiny greasy crimson creature wailing at the top of its lungs. But my heart spoke a different language. When I saw the babe, I KNEW she was my sister, I felt that we were connected, and I was overcome by the irresistible urge to protect her, come what may. If this was what it felt like to have children of your own, then Mary was right, and I would make a decent mother.

"Hello little Elizabeth," I murmured and swore to myself that in this life, she would not end up motherless and unhappy. Perhaps she would not been Good Queen Bess, but she would have a prosperous life. I was determined to make sure she would.

Of course, achieving it wouldn't be easy. Real life Elizabeth had faced so many woes at such a young age, not few of them originating in the person of her own father. And as I watched him enter Anne's chamber and leave again with a none-too-pleased face, I realized fighting for my sister would be no simple feat.

"Prepare the christening. Cranmer is to be her godfather as was planned. Still, cancel the jousts and the banquets," he ordered the Duke of Suffolk, who had been waiting in the antechamber along with some ladies and me. "Send Linacre to look after the Queen regularly. I wish for her swift recovery."

"Father, please," I interrupted him in quite an impolite fashion, all but pushing myself in his way. "Please, do not cancel the feasts. She is your daughter."

The King looked at me sternly. I almost expected him to scold me like a naughty child, but then his face softened.

"Mary, I know you have a kind heart, but she is no prince. Jousts are only in order for princes," he explained.

"But the banquets and the fireworks? I heard you had them when I was born."

His expression became more serious again. "You are the Princess of Wales."

"And Elizabeth is a Princess of England. A Tudor princess. And my sister. Can the Princess of Wales not ask such a favor for her only sister?"

Brandon looked at me dumbfounded, and my father, too, seemed to be surprised. The half-smile in the corner of his mouth led me to believe that he liked it when I stood my ground. Or when I mentioned our Tudor blood, of which he was so proud.

"Fine. Suffolk, cancel the jousts, but nothing else. Have it announced that the Queen has given birth to a bonny princess for England," he said regally. Then, after watching Brandon bow and leave, he patted my shoulder and smiled. "You are right, sweetheart. Elizabeth is a fine princess. If she is anything like her sister, she will surely make me proud."

I curtsied before him. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I know you shall not be disappointed. Tudor women are a force to be reckoned with. And who knows, this little girl might one day preside over empires."

"Yes, she might," Henry agreed. "Now go and prepare yourself for the feasting. In absence of the Queen, you shall host them as my lady, and I expect only perfection. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Your Majesty." I curtsied again and smiled. I could see he was still unhappy about the outcome of the birth, but I had managed to soften the blow somehow and appeal to his pride. Within time, I knew, he would come to love Elizabeth just as fiercely as I loved her. And besides, with no brother as of yet, I was still Princess of Wales, and therefore he would forget about my marriage for some time. Time enough for me to scout for potential candidates that would not interfere with my plans.

God, I thought as I rushed to prepare for the banquet, I really need a spy of some sort. How am I to find a suitable husband without information?