Hello readers! Here is a fresh chapter for the week-end, where a new player enters the game. I owe a big "thank you" to the Dork of York, who beta-read this one and helped me with a lot of good advice that I'll try to take into account.

XIII. The Day of Disgrace

Night of the 15th to 16th of September, Whitehall

A loud cry woke the queen's servants, who were sleeping in a little room adjacent to hers. The three women rushed to their mistress' side. Anne was holding her belly, whimpering, and her sheets were soaked.

"Doctor", she croaked between gasps of pain.

Two of the servants went running through the corridors, one to Doctor Butts, the other to the king's chambers. The doctor came in trotting, his bag under his arm, and started to give orders. Other servants, waken by her colleagues, entered the room and began to prepare clean cloth and heat some water...

##

16th of September, eight in the morning

Butts grimaced. The queen had been in labour for seven hours, and things had not improved much. The child did not come towards the light, and if he or she remained too long in his mother's belly, he would risk suffocation, and Anne, complete exhaustion. The doctor knew that it could end in a truly awful way, given the queen's current weakness. He sent one of his pages in his chambers to get a certain small bottle he only used as a last resort.

When Butts showed her a flask of thin brown powder, Anne stared at it with distrust. What was that mixture?

- "It is rather dangerous, my lady, but I have nothing else to quicken the birth."

- "Dangerous?" Anne groaned. "How?"

- "It is a mixture comprising ergot. If the dose is not properly gauged, you may fall gravely ill. But a simple infusion of thyme or dill will not be enough to help you, so..."

Anne made a face. She had swallowed without complaining the herbal teas of nettles the doctor had given her during her pregnancy since, according to him, they were good for the baby's health, the fennel seeds to lessen her sickness, but she could not stand all these disgusting infusions any more.

"Give it", she ordered, before screaming when a more violent contraction hit her.

Thomas or Henry, no matter; the first one that gets between my hands will pay for this. No way I'll let one or the other enter my bed until I am too old to bear children! Ouch!

# #

16th of September, nine thirty

Nan and Madge exchanged a dismayed look. Which one would tell the king his wife had given birth to another daughter? Madge decided to put herself out ; she had been Henry's mistress, maybe he would not be too inclined to mistreat her. She gathered her skirts and her courage, and left the queen's bedchamber to walk towards the council room. No one in the anteroom, except the other ladies-in-waiting, Lady Jane Rochford amongst them, and the queen's mother. The king had not even allowed George Boleyn to keep his sister company. It was cruel...

The guards watching the council entrance smiled indulgently when they saw her tiptoeing towards them. They made friendly bows, and one of them left his post to walk her inside.

"Lady Norris, Your Majesty", the guard announced after a quick salute.

Henry was surrounded by his whole council and Madge wanted nothing more than to disappear under the carpet. No, better, under the floor, it was safer. She curtsied deeply before the assembly.

"Well?" Henry demanded . "Do I have a son at last?"

Madge took a breath. Lord, protect me.

"No, Your Majesty, the queen..."

Poor Madge did not even have the time to finish her sentence. Henry had risen from his seat and darted in the corridor, violently shoving the young woman aside on his way and sending her on the floor.

- "Sorry", Madge muttered, having a hard time getting up.

- "There", George Boleyn said, reaching for her hand. "I think one of us should better follow His Majesty before he makes a scandal in my sister's rooms", he added, worried.

- "He can shout as much as he wants, the lady-in-waiting ranted, it is not as if the queen can hear him..."

The councillors all stared at her in alarm, and Madge realized what she had just said.

"No, no", she quickly amended, "the queen still lives."

Relieved sighs escaped some of them.

- "But she is unconscious for now."

- "At least", chancellor Audley asked, "is the child healthy?"

- "Oh indeed", Madge answered with a genuine smile. "She is in very good health and the doctor has only pleasant things to say about her!"

- "Here are some excellent news. Lord Rochford, I believe you are right we should better go with the king, just in case..."

Thus the chancellor left, followed by George, Richard Rich and Lady Norris, leaving Cromwell, bishop Gardiner and the duke of Suffolk looking daggers at each other.

When they arrived at the queen's door, they could not believe their ears. Henry, crimson with anger, was facing his old friend Anthony Knivert, equally furious, and the two men were exchanging rather... frightening words.

- "You have a healthy child, your wife almost died trying to give you a son again, and this is all you manage to say? « What am I to do with a daughter?»" Anthony shouted, indignant.

- "It matters not the queen is ill or dying, she failed to do her duty again. She owed me a son!"

- "The Lord graced you with the chance of being a father once more and you spit in His face! Dear God, you deserve to have daughters and only daughters, no matter how many wives you take!"

For a moment, Henry seemed on the verge of hitting Knivert, then he pulled himself together and raised his hand. The two guards that followed him everywhere came closer.

"Please take Sir Anthony to the gates of London, if you please. He must leave Court and not come back without an order from the king, under penalty of perpetual banishment from the realm. Be glad I am a moderate man, Anthony. What you have just said... is treason."

# #

17th of September

The queen had regained consciousness at last, and the little swarm of ladies and servants surrounding her had come back to life with her. People breathed again, they dared laugh and speak within the royal earshot. They found absolutely charming the name Alice Her Majesty had chosen for her daughter.

Chancellor Audley, the chancellor of the Court of Justice Richard Rich, "Call-me" Risley, Lord Cromwell... in a nutshell, all the men who owed the queen part of their current fortune, or felt the slightest loyalty towards her, came to offer their congratulations, though their worry was easily read on their faces. Anne did not make any comment. Nan Saville had already reported the king's fit of rage, the fact that poor Madge had landed on the carpet before the whole council, and Anthony's exile. She thanked everyone with a smile, before falling back against her pillows. True, Alice's birth had been really more exhausting than Elizabeth's... Was it God's call to order for the way the child had been conceived? If it was, Anne did not care and did not regret the afternoons in the little room, nor a certain Christmas and a certain wall. She did not want to apologize any more for everything. She wanted to sing to her daughter, to take care of her... just for a day. Was it asking too much?

Under the baffled eyes of her ladies-in-waiting and her mother's more tender gaze, Queen Anne took advantage of the absence of the doctor, the king, her father and all the others to – at last – allow her newborn daughter to feed in peace.

- "It seems", Audley told George and Cromwell once they had left the queen's room, "that Lord Boleyn and the duke of Norfolk are all but satisfied."

- "Of course", the youngest Boleyn sibling answered, rather tartly, "being the future king of England's uncle and grandfather would have been so much better than uncle and grandfather to a future princess of France or another country! Well", he resumed with a more smiling face," it is our gain. It means we will be allowed to take care of these two little angels without having those dreadful censors behind our backs!"

Audley smiled too. Elizabeth would become queen of England, with God's help, and Alice, princess in Europe. They would have to train those children for their future roles. This would lead to very long lessons, if the chancellor had to judge by their father. He was going to say as much to the Lord Privy Seal when he noticed the unusual dreamy expression on his colleague's face. Of course... To him, the prospect of having two little girls running to him again was heaven.

Cromwell went back to visit Anne later that evening, and as soon as he entered her room, she felt his awkwardness. He hid his uneasiness behind and elegant bow.

- "Your Majesty..."

- "Come closer, Thomas."

He took some steps and stood at the queen's bedside. She was holding Alice in her arms and the baby was fidgeting, her tiny fingers opening like a little starfish. Thin black downy hair already covered her head.

"I am so sorry", he muttered.

Anne stared at him wide-eyed.

- "What for, my friend?"

- "I fear that I did not help you much, giving you another daughter", he sighed. "This does not secure your position at all."

He nearly winced when Anne reached to touch his cheek. She was staring at him with a rather unsettling intensity.

"You do not need to be sorry", she assured him. "There, sit and... take your daughter", she added, a bit lower.

With infinite caution, Cromwell took the child in his arms, praying that she would not cry. But she remained silent, her darkening eyes staring at him. He loosened the cloth that surrounded her face to study her better, and Alice's small hand closed firmly around his finger.

I have a daughter.

Suddenly, it was real. It was not a simple political move any more, a favour done. He felt the weight and warmth of the baby in his arms, saw her move, could touch her. He tried to swallow back the knot growing in his throat. Whatever the king would ask him against Anne now, he would be unable to do it. She was the mother of his child; he was bound to her as surely as if she had his ring on her finger.

# #

20th of September, Hatfield

Anthony reined up and his mare entered jogging into the yard of Hatfield. A lad came out of the stables and took care of the animal while the knight had a servant announce him. He had not much time, and though Henry had not formally forbidden him to go there, his volatile mood could still go ablaze if he learnt about Anthony's visit.

Lady Bryan welcomed him with a warm smile and soon an overexcited "Uncle Anthony!" warned him of Elizabeth's arrival. He bowed before the little girl, the feather of his beret sweeping the floor, then he put a gentle kiss on the little hand she extended.

- "So? Is the baby born?"

- "Indeed, Your Highness, and I am very glad to tell you that you have a little sister."

Elizabeth burst into happy exclamations, and was about to climb up the stairs to Lady Mary's room to share the good news, when she stopped dead on her tracks and, balancing herself on a step, asked her sister's name.

"Alice", Anthony answered, and the child resumed her race double quick.

He watched her run, smiling.

- "It must not be easy, I imagine?" he told the governess.

- "Indeed not", Lady Bryan admitted, "but she is so kind, and clever... it is easy to forgive her. How is the queen?"

- "Not as well as after Elizabeth's birth", Anthony confessed, "yet Butts thinks that some weeks of rest will put her back on her feet. The child is healthy. I don't dare report the king's reaction", he sighed.

- "Tell me, I have heard so many things", the lady said, resigned.

- "To be short, he told in front of the whole Court that he did not care a fig that his wife was ill or even in danger, given that she had not been able to give him a son."

- "Oh!"

- "This should dampen the marrying fervour of many young ladies... if the mistreatment of both the Seymours sisters had not already disgusted them. As for myself, I made the huge mistake of criticizing His Majesty for his behaviour..."

- "And you are not in the Tower yet?" Lady Bryan cried, alarmed.

- "So here I am, on my way to my lands, with an express order not to move from there until the king changes his mind. This time, it will not be before a long time."

Lady Bryan, who had always liked this wise young man, kissed him on both cheeks and wished him good luck, adding she would pray so that the king would not leave him pining too long far from London. Anthony thanked her, but he intended to use his exile to conclude two or three little businesses. In Dover, for instance.

# #

25th of September

Alice Tudor's baptism came with a far much simpler ceremony than her elder sister's. There was better things to do, according to Henry, with the Treasury. But the queen did not take offence. On the contrary, this smaller gathering, almost familial, pleased her more than the church organs and the lines of courtiers staged by her husband two years ago. The ambassador's wife acted as a proxy for the queen of France. As for the godfather, Anne had had a good laugh choosing the duke of Suffolk. Creating him sacred obligations towards her daughter was an excellent way to keep his hands tied. She had also planned donations at the end of the ceremony. Fifty poor girls would receive a allocation of two pounds to marry, and as many poor widows would be given the same amount of money to pay their debts and feed their children.

The ambassador's wife was carefully carrying the little princess, smiling proudly, while Elizabeth was, as usual, clutching her half-sister Mary's hand, watching all those beautiful clothes with interest, under the indulgent eyes of her governess and her aunt Mary Stafford. The three women had apparently reconciled, thanks to the girl. This detail of course did not escape Chapuys's keen eye and made him grimace. If the princess formed a too important affection for the little bastard, it could become an issue.

While the archbishop drew a cross on the baby's forehead, and said baby did not like the joke the tiniest bit, the imperial ambassador squeezed through the crowd towards the young woman. At first she did not notice him and he had to tap her on the shoulder so she looked at him.

- "Master Chapuys, cannot this wait the end of the ceremony?" Mary asked, frowning.

- "It is of the highest importance", the envoy insisted. "I must tell you about your cousin's projects."

- "Hmm... Really ?"

- "Come now, my lady, have I ever lied to you?"

- "Yes", Mary retorted, slightly annoyed. "When you told me that the lady loathed her child and that my sister was a little monster. Now show at least some respect for this sacred place."

- "Defiled by the presence of all those heret..."

Chapuys promptly shut up when Lady Bryan turned her head towards him, her lips pinched. When he wanted to resume the conversation, it was too late; the governess had beaten him and dragged Lady Mary behind her. Together, the ladies went to give the alms the queen had prepared. The sweet amount of two hundred pounds was distributed amongst benedictions.

As easy to spot amongst the courtiers as an ink stain on a parchment, Cromwell was watching them with renewed interest. The Londoners' hurrah warmed his hearth. There were still some to call Anne a whore, but more and more people recognized her qualities. Well, well, well...

That's all folks, for this evening. Next chapter will probably take more time, as I'll be leaving for some holidays next Saturday, and settle for a peaceful week in a place without anything looking like Internet or a computer.