Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter 13 – Revelations: Henry had only just left when Katherine's maid knocked on the door. Anne was grateful that the timing had worked out so well. She knew what it was Katherine wanted to speak with her about – the chances of Mary going anywhere but to her beloved mother after the scene with Henry were slim to none. The question was, why did Katherine want to talk to Anne now? Mary was probably still there, so…

Oh, no. No, Katherine couldn't possibly… Anne only just managed to hold back the groan and instead smiled at the maid. "I'll be there as soon as possible," she said, her voice as pleasant as she could make it. The girl bobbed a curtsey and left. Anne sank into a chair and rubbed her temples, trying to ward off her brewing headache. But she had said she would go to see Katherine soon, so she stood and left her room, hoping all the way that she was wrong.

She wasn't. When she entered Katherine's presence chamber, she saw that the only two people there were Katherine and Mary. Several phrases ran through her mind, mostly things she remembered hearing sailors say during her times onboard ship, which made all of them horribly inappropriate to say aloud. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of anything to say that was fitting, which left her at somewhat of a disadvantage.

"Hello, Anne," Katherine said. "I wanted you to come because it's time Mary understood what's really going on here, and I thought it best if you were here as well."

Have you lost your mind? She's twelve! Anne thought wildly, but she only nodded. "Very well, though I believe you should start, Katherine. This was, after all, your idea." And that last comment had multiple meanings, and the handmaid saw that the Queen caught that as well. Katherine's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing about it.

"Mama, what's going on?" Mary said, her expression utterly bewildered. Anne felt a flash or sympathy for the girl, though now that she thought about it, if nothing else, things should be easier with Mary in on the secret. Assuming she didn't tell anyone, of course. Especially Henry… that would not be good for any of them.

"Mary, I told you before that we had to accept Lady Anne in our lives, but what I didn't tell you was that she became your father's handmaid at my request."

"What?" Mary exclaimed.

Request is one way to put it, Anne thought. All things considered, what choice did I really have? But again, she knew better than to say that. "It's true, Princess," she said quietly.

"But why?" Mary asked, looking more lost than ever. Katherine put an arm around her daughter's shoulders, and Anne felt her throat tighten. She'd not had her mother long enough to have a close bond with her, and her relationship with her father was hardly that of a parent and child. She could only hope to have a similar closeness with her children, but that would be something.

"Your father could have chosen a different woman as handmaid, someone who would truly be an enemy to us, and that would be a dangerous situation," Katherine told her daughter, choosing not to mention the other possibility, that Henry would have sought an annulment. She wanted Mary to understand why Anne was Henry's handmaid, not give her daughter a reason to simply transfer her anger to Henry.

"Because if something happens to the Queen the handmaid takes her place?" Mary said, remembering what she'd read about handmaids after learning that her father was to take one.

"Yes," Katherine said with a nod. "I trusted Lady Anne, and so I asked her to…"

"She wanted me to give your father a reason to choose me," Anne took over, seeing that Katherine wasn't entirely sure how to articulate the fact that she'd told another woman to seduce her husband, her child's father. "So I agreed, and that's what I did."

"But that means you're tricking him!" Mary said, suddenly indignant. "He loves you, and you're only pretending."

Anne's breath caught in her throat when Mary glared at her with Katherine's eyes set in a face that was a mixture of both her parents' features. But Mary was clearly more her mother's daughter than Henry's, and Anne found she could not lie to the girl now that she saw that so very clearly. "I… I do care for your father, Mary, I'm not just acting. But I promise, I would never try to take your mother's place, and I wouldn't want my children to take your father away from you."

"I…" Mary paused to take a breath, then continued. "Can I leave now?" she asked. "I think I need to think about all of this."

"Of course, Mary," Katherine said. Mary nodded and curtsied as though this were a formal occasion before heading for the door. At the last second she turned back.

"Lady Anne, I… I'm sorry," she said quickly before fleeing.

Well, Anne thought, that's a start.

"Thank you, John," George said absently, handing the man a sovereign before turning away, his mind already focused on what he'd just learned. It had taken some time and trouble to turn his father's manservant into a spy, but it was now paying off. He had thought that it would eventually, but not this quickly. But then, Anne's pregnancy had changed things. He should have anticipated that.

Well, it was still early enough that he had a chance to stop this. His father and uncle were only considering the idea of harming the Queen. They probably wouldn't do anything until Anne was delivered – after all, if the child was a girl, it might not do them any good. Henry could dismiss Anne as handmaid, keeping their child, and make a new marriage that would seal a political alliance if Katherine died before Anne gave Henry a son. But he didn't want to bet on that – the stakes were too high for him to be wrong. Best to act as though he was certain the other two men would decide on a plan and act immediately.

He could tell Anne, of course. She would tell the King, which would certainly put a stop to things. But what good would that do? It would only ruin their entire family and possibly Anne as well. If Anne wasn't disgraced, he'd likely be all right as well, because Anne would speak for him, pointing out that he was the reason she knew what was going to happen, but it was too risky to assume Anne could get out of this unscathed. But if he didn't say anything, and something happened to Katherine… Anne would kill him.

So, that simply meant he would have to handle this himself. After all, there hadn't been any actual treason committed yet – there wasn't even a definite plan! So he wasn't duty-bound to report it just yet. He had a small window of opportunity before concealing this made him equally culpable, and he intended to take full advantage of it to stop this before it went any further.

The problem would be explaining to his father how he knew what was going on when he wasn't supposed to. It would not go well for him if Thomas Boleyn learned that his son was spying on him – never mind the fact that he was spying on his daughter. He'd told Anne about that one, and she was watching what was said around the maids their father and uncle had bought. Both of them understood that it was imperative that they keep some secrets for themselves.

So, how was he to do this? George didn't know just yet. He had some time to plan, though, and he was going to use it. All he had to do was curtail his father's ambitious nature all without arousing his suspicions, convincing the older man that it was best to be patient, as that would always pay off better than daring moves, especially in this situation. Oh yes, that's all, he thought ruefully. I think I need a drink.

Mary walked into the courtyard, knowing her feet were a little unsteady. Her mind was spinning as she sat on a bench, trying to get her mind around what she'd just been told. It couldn't be, it simply couldn't. It just made absolutely no sense.

Except that it did. Deep down, Mary understood that what had happened was the sort of thing that, in some ways, happened all the time. One thing she'd begun to notice about history was that people who wanted to secure their power base always did things that were a little, well, underhanded to do so. As much as it hurt to know that her mother had to resort to such things with her father, it also made a terrible kind of sense. But why Lady Anne?

Well, she had an answer to that one as well. Her mother would only have asked a lady she truly trusted to do something like this, so she must believe that Lady Anne was loyal to her. But what if she was wrong? If she was, Anne was in the perfect position to destroy Mary's mother, and Mary herself if she so chose.

"But I promise, I would never try to take your mother's place, and I wouldn't want my children to take your father away from you."

There had been something odd in Lady Anne's eyes when Mary had accused her of just pretending to care for Mary's father, something distant, as though she was seeing someone else there instead of Mary. And there had been a strong ring of truth in her promise that she would never try to supplant Mary's mother, or let her children take Mary's place in her father's heart. As much as part of Mary wanted to cling to her hate and believe that Lady Anne was nothing more than a very good actress, she could not. She believed her, even though she didn't want to. Even if it meant she had to believe that her father had ignored her either because he wanted to or because he was easily distracted.

It hurt to think that her father was either that cruel or that thoughtless, but what other explanation was there? If it wasn't the Lady Anne's influence, it had to come from her beloved Papa. Mary bit her lip so that she wouldn't cry – she refused to lose control of her emotions in a place where someone might happen upon her. She was a princess born and raised, and she knew better.

"Your Highness?" Kate spoke cautiously, because it was clear that the younger girl was in the grips of some painful emotion. Mary looked up, and her eyes were overbright. She wasn't crying, but it was clear that if she were anything but a princess trained to be in control of herself, she would be.

"Hello, Mistress Kate."

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course it…" Mary's voice cracked and she realized she couldn't lie. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, it's not." She just kept shaking her head.

Kate sat down next to her, and after a moment's hesitation, she put a hand on Mary's shoulder as if she were her younger sister and she was trying to comfort her. "What is it? I swear I won't tell anyone."

Her mother had said she shouldn't say anything, but… She trusted Lady Anne, and Mary trusted Mistress Kate. It was the same thing, wasn't it? Even if it wasn't, she couldn't keep all this inside, she simply couldn't. The story came pouring out of her, and when she was done, she felt a little better.

Kate was stunned, to say the least. While her heart broke for Mary, who was now forced to face the fact that her father was wholly responsible for his treatment of his child and his wife, most of her mind was caught up in the larger revelation. This entire situation had been orchestrated by the Queen, with Lady Anne as a willing partner? Suddenly, all kinds of little things, like that conversation at the joust or the slight frown she'd seen on the Queen's face when talking with Princess Margaret a few weeks ago, began to make sense.

But she couldn't think over the implications right now; she knew that the princess was waiting for her to say something. But what, exactly, should she say? How did one comfort a girl whose entire world had been turned upside down – again?

"Isn't it a little better this way, Your Highness?" she finally asked tentatively.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know that Lady Anne is on your side, yours and your mother's. That means you don't have to worry about her trying to hurt you. And your father… I think it's just because his relationship with Lady Anne is new that he's so caught up with her. And men… they always get excited when a new baby's on the way. Sometimes they forget about the children they already have for a while because of it, but it never lasts. I'm an older sister, I know these things. And trust me, it's worth it when you first meet your little brother or sister."

"Do you like having younger siblings?" Mary wanted to know.

"Yes, I do, actually. They can annoy me at times, but I like being there for them, being someone they know they can trust. It's a big responsibility, but the rewards are even greater. Trust me."

Mary frowned, looking away. Then she looked up at Kate, her eyes hopeful. "Is it really going to get better?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know the future, Your Highness, so I can only guess, but I think so. I really do."

Mary sighed. "I hope you're right."

Anne toyed with the empty wineglass Katherine's maid had given her, having already finished her wine. They'd been talking of trivial things, events at court, that sort of thing. But then Anne said, "I hope you made the right decision."

Katherine raised an eyebrow. "With Mary, you mean?"

No, with the wine vintage. "Yes, with Mary. I mean, she's rather young, and…"

"She knows how to keep quiet, and I really didn't see any other choice. She was determined to hate you, and while I imagine you could have handled that, Henry wouldn't have."

"No, that's true."

"I didn't think I'd need to tell her, but apparently Mary was more influenced by Margaret than I had expected her to be."

"Ah, yes, Margaret. I don't suppose she actually has a reason for hating me, does she? I know I've never done anything to her."

"I think she considers your background to be an insult of some kind, actually."

Anne scowled. "Of course, it would be something I can't control." She fell silent after that last comment, and Katherine didn't say anything else either, so the silence lasted, not tense exactly, but not quite companionable either. Finally, Anne said abruptly, "You know, I would have spoken to Henry about Mary even if you hadn't mentioned what he was doing."

Katherine frowned. "Where is this coming from?"

"I was just thinking about it. I would never want to see a man ignoring his daughter for my sake. I already know what…" Oh, she hadn't meant to say that. Perhaps the wine had loosened her tongue? At least it hadn't loosened her grip on her emotions – the way she was going, that would have been an unqualified disaster. "Never mind," she finished hastily.

"Anne, what were you going to say?" Katherine asked, her tone making it clear that she wouldn't let the other woman get away with avoiding the question. Anne sighed – why had she let that last comment slip?

"I was going to say that I know what it's like for your father to suddenly seem to stop caring. Mary's lucky – Henry's distracted, but he does love her, I'm sure of that. Sometimes they actually do care less than they once did, especially if their children are somehow useful. One would not want to let feelings get in the way of advancement, after all." She smiled bitterly. "It's really quite a practical mindset."

"Anne…" Katherine trailed off. What exactly should she say to something like this? She could think of quite a few things to say – unfortunately all of those were things she could say to Thomas Boleyn given the opportunity.

Anne shook her head. "There's nothing to say, is there? But you know, that's why… I didn't lie to Mary. I have come to care for Henry. I can't love him – he's too fickle for that – but I do care, because I wasn't acting with him. I didn't pretend to be something I wasn't when I was seducing him, which means it was me he was attracted to, as I am. That's something fairly uncommon for me, I have to say. I'm not sure if I should thank you for that, or if I should apologize for taking things further than you intended me to."

Anne didn't know why she just got up and left after that, but she did. There wasn't anything else to say, and she didn't think she wanted to hear what Katherine might say in reply. However, she did think of one other thing to say as she opened the door, so she said it, though she did not turn around when she did so. "I'm sorry to be telling you all of this, but there's an interesting thing about trust, you see. You can trust me, and I feel that I can trust you in return. But I don't mean to cause you any trouble, so if you would rather I did not see things this way, please tell me."

Katherine was actually stunned into silence. That wasn't something that happened to her often. Yes, she often held her tongue because it was the smartest move at the moment, but rarely did she keep silent because she could think of nothing to say at all. Anne had a habit of being brutally honest – it was something she'd noticed on more than one occasion – but she had never expected this candor.

Part of her was glad that the other woman trusted her that much, as it made their relationship a little more equal. Another part was upset over Anne's feelings for Henry, even if they were understandable, and that was the same part that was jealous of Anne for having Henry's love, even if that had been the plan. And then there was the voice in the back of her mind that wished she could do something rather unpleasant to Boleyn for what he'd apparently done to all of his children… and there was another part that wished she could somehow make the pain of such coldness go away, but that made even less sense than the rest of her tangled thoughts.

A/N: Um… I'm not entirely sure why Anne's thoughts were so snarky in this one… I blame the headache and the first of the pregnancy hormones – or maybe just my muse. Don't worry, Anne and Katherine aren't at odds again, this is just set-up material. As to Mary and Kate, what better way for them to bond than for Kate to take a sort of elder sister role? Hope you liked George's scheming – I'm really liking Boleyn siblings plotting; it's featuring in The Falcon and the Mare as well.