Chapter 28: Cold and True the Hands of Fate:

Silently she glided, an unseen figure in a world of tormented despair, her smirk the only indication of her well hidden pleasure, it was almost surreal, watching her life lead a different course, her plans finally reaching fruition, but then again there was always despair, her life would no longer be of existence, her fate would all but be erased, she could not help herself, one last time she had forced herself to watch her true fate, command herself to see what her destiny would have beheld, what pain she would have suffered at the hands of an unseen monster.

Slowly she breathed, her hate renewed, he had signed her death warrant without a moment's hesitation, murdered the mother of his child, and portrayed her as a senseless harlot, all for the possession of a blonde floozy with more obedience then brains and a son who would not even live to reach his 16th birthday.

Again the questions haunted her mind, had their love meant nothing, had she been all but replaceable in his shallow life, what would her life have beheld if her precious children had lived to breath the free air and most of all did he truly believe her culpable of her accused crimes or had he been a willing participant in her untimely demise, much like her delusions of Elizabeth's hate she could never bring herself to discover the truth, if he had assisted in her murder, if he had known of her innocence, then deep down she knew she could never save her children or push her other self into the path of such a monster, she would seek vengeance and condemn redemption, she had to believe he had not known, that his desire to marry and father a son had not been his driving influence, she had to delusion herself to conclude he had not known, that his pride had been so servery wounded he could not bear to look upon the evidence, because if her conclusion was wrong, if he truly was capable of her condemnation then nothing would save her fate, and the future would be unstoppable.

Slowly she wandered the halls of white hall, her vast store of memories taking hold, the first time he had touched her hand, the moment of silence that encompassed her body and soul "Perseverance you are my prisoner now" the desperate words slipping silently into her heart and her own soft laughter whispering into her mind, the first jewels he had ever commissioned for her "One ruby set in circlets of gold, the second a precious stone upon a bed of gold and pearl, a third small and large drops of pearl with gold and purple and the detail of a lion's head and lastly feathers of silver gold and amber, jewels fit for a Queen" of course she had returned them to him, silently she laughed now, back then she had considered them payments for his pleasure, something she knew she could never accept, but still she had sent them back with flare, she had intentionally chosen Lady Clifford to inspire his hopes and silently bring them crashing down, Instinctively she knew even then his love of the pursuit.

Looking back know she could clearly see her folly, she believed him in want of a mistress, a nightly companion who would inspire his loins but never think to touch his heart, had she known of his true intentions, a companion of the mind as well as the body, someone to entertain and amuse him, perhaps she would have played her hand differently, been kinder to the Lady Mary, attempted to insure she remained legitimate as her other self was doing now, but she had not thought him capable of abandoning Katherine, not back then, not at first.

Even as his gifts had become more extravagant and his letters more personalized she had not expected anything more than courtly affection, the pink pearl crucifix he had commissioned for her had perhaps been her first accepted gift, his letter pleading for a place within her" heart and grounded affection" had softened her resolve to remain aloof, she smiled now at the tender memory of George's reaction and his blasphemous statement of "Oh Holy Jesus".

She had almost surrendered, become his mistress and bore him bastards, only when she lay beneath him, a willing supplicant did he offer her his hand, silently she wondered what had possessed him to restrain himself, to offer her a life of wealth and royalty, a life as his wife and Queen "No, I shall honour you maiden head until we are married, no less could I do for love".

Slowly she laughed now, LOVE, his eyes had been so full of passion, she could not bear to disappoint him, that night she had made her ill-fated promise "When we are married I will deliver you a son" words that all but condemned her, she had not been able to bear her beloved boy, her prince and her husband's price for survival.

Softly she paced the halls darkened now lit with only candle light, if only then she had seen her unfortunate fate, perhaps she could have avoided it, plead barrenness and offered Henry a quick resolution, but it was all too late now, destiny had run its course and her marriage had become a bitter battle zone with insults, injury and insanity cast left, right and centre, all she could do now was move forward in death, left to haunt the world of the living, destined to forever linger in pain.

Perhaps she could have moved on as George had done, but she could not bear to leave behind her beloved daughter and although she hated to admit it, she could not bear to leave Henry to his fate, he had loved her once, and it had been true, he may not have been led astray, he had made his own choices, but still she had to believed what he said, believe she saw the truth of his pain, the truth she had confronted him with before his death, his words still haunted her, they had discussed Elizabeth, and she had admitted to him her greatest sin 'She was the only pure thing in my life, and in my life I neglected her, since she was only a girl and I wanted so much to give you a son", her true regret was the disappointment she had suffered over her daughters sex, Elizabeth was perfect, and she desperately wished she could have been given more time with her beloved child, she would have willingly kissed Jane Seymour's feet and bowed humble and low before her, if only to have one more day in her child's company.

His words had hurt "I wish that I could love her more, but from time to time she reminds me of you and what you did to me", he had believed them, all that time he still believed them and he had condemned their daughter for his pain, desperately she had tried to convince him of her innocence but in the end what would it have changed, she was dead but even still she could not retreat without the truth of her life being told "I did nothing to you, I was innocent, all the accusations against me where false, I thought you knew".

Silently she wondered if this had been a defining moment in her death, a point where her anger had begun to subside and her determination had encased her soul, after that it was the last time she had seen George, seen anyone from her past life, she had surrendered her place in the heavens, given up her place of peace, determined to fix, what many claimed to be unfixable, George had begged her, told her that her child's fate was glorious, but power has no comparison to love, and Elizabeth deserved both, she hadn't listened then and for her life she would not listen now.

There were so many issues left to be fixed, Jane would soon deliver the Boleyn heir, but the fates had determined that Edward Tudor could not be unwritten, how could she convince a woman so determined to stay faithful to abandon her principals and bare a bastard son, and yet this problem could not even compare to the mockery she had been summoned to witness, for weeks she had watched as her other destiny remained aloof and cold towards her intended, watched as Henry quietly accepted Anne's calm demeanour and obedience, but even still the cracks were beginning to show, soon his anger would not be contained, Henry was the King of England, a man used to having his own way in all things.

And Henry wanted Anne, all her fire and passion, all her wit and charm and yet he wanted her obedience, her submission and her constraint, deep within she knew Henry and she knew him well, she had watched him for years after her death, watched him grow impatient and bored with Jane, watched him degrade Anne of Cleaves and abandon her to the country side, but most of all she had seen his dominion over both her cousin and his last wife, Henry wanted a variety of things, he wanted a combination of his first three wives, he wanted Katherine's loyalty, Anne's passion and Jane's obedience.

But soon he would learn that not all things could be as he wished it, he did not control all those within his kingdom, he would soon learn that not even the King of England controlled the dead, and with a slight smirk she drifted behind her other self, her thoughts raced, Henry would soon learn he did not control the future and soon she would be sure he would come to understand what his corrupt power had brought, Six Wives, Three Children and a Kingdom left in utter chaos.

Quietly she knew she could not confront him in reality, within his current state Henry would jump to the ultimate conclusion that he should marry and bed Jane and produce his son, No, while one could lead a horse to water, they could not make it drink.

Henry would be shown in more refined ways, perhaps it was time for Anne to conspired, perhaps another would need to be summoned to show Henry his new path, a boy born to be a King, a Man that had known Henry far longer than any other, a different kind of Tudor.

For after all who knows the true beatings of a man's heart better than his own brother and rival.