Andrew Boleyn & Arthur Seymour
Helen drinks wine and stares into the fire. She feels a presence in the room.
"Why do you come?" she asked him.
"To see my son," Andrew replied. "He was, quite honestly, the only pure thing in my life. Unfortunately I neglected him since he was just a boy, and I focused and tried so hard to give you a daughter."
Richard appeared beside him. "But now I'm so incredibly proud of him. Immensely proud. He is so kind and clever."
Andrew smiled fondly. "And though we are alike in many way, I'm glad he doesn't share my intemperate. Do you not agree Helen?"
She stood and drained her cup. "I do agree. I am proud of him as well. I know of intelligence adn witness his kind nature. I am regretful that I do not love him as much as I should. But he reminds me of you so often and what you did to me."
Andrew stepped forward. "I did nothing to you. All of the accusations against me were false. I thought you knew. Poor Edward Howard. He lies in the cold ground next to me. The poor boy. It wasn't his fault either. For we were like two moths drawn to the flame. And burned."
xxxxXxxxxx
"How is my daughter?" he asked.
She stopped and reveled in the sound of it. "Arthur," she whispered.
She turned and smiled. "She is well. I have taken all care of her, dearest Arthur. And soon she will be Queen."
"My poor girl. My poor child!" Princess Elizabeth appeared beside him.
"No!" she said confused. "She is the most beloved. She is my special girl."
"She will die young," he said firmly.
"No. No!" Helen turned away with tears in her eyes.
"The poor girl, you expected too much of her. She was only a girl. Queens too are made of clay. And God forbid you locked her away from the world like your mother did with you."
"Don't you see? You have killed her!"