January 30, 1536

Hampton Palace

Queen Anne laid in her hanging-bed, smiling, looking at the boy in front of her. Taking in every feature. His father's red hair, his blue eyes, the way his finger curls around her finger. She coos to her son in triumph. She did it. She gave birth to a son, a future king. The future King Edward VI of England. She felt as though she could sit in this moment forever, gazing at him smiling up at her.

Suddenly a hooded man barged into her room, grabbing Edward from her arms. She lept for him and found her arms restrained. She turned to see two men holding her, and screamed as the man strode out with her son and the room shifted around her. She found herself at the tower, staring down a block, a jeering crowd and her husband.

"Henry! Henry, please, have mercy!" She yelled as the men dragged her to the block. She stared down at it in horror and then back to her husband, who was now being entertained by that pale wench. Horrified, she cried out again, "Henry, please, have mercy!"

The scene changed again as the men pulled her back and bound her to a pole. She became frantic as she realized she was about to be burned. She looked desperately at Henry, who stood and whispered, "witch."

The Queen shot up from her horrid dream full of sweat. She twirled around and grabbed at her now empty stomach and let out a whimper, remembering what truly happened to her son. She had failed… No, she had done everything right. She had been carrying a son; she had kept every promise she had ever given to him. It was Henry who had done this, he killed their boy. He killed her son and their love, and he would blame her for both, for he was King. He would have no mercy once her enemies were done slandering her. The ladies lying around her began to wake up, and she assured them she was fine, but she was not.

She could not eat, she could not sleep, all she thought of was her son, what he would have looked liked, behaved like. Her heart could not take this loss, he was everything she had left, and he was gone. Her last hope, washed away in a sea of blood and tears. Her Elizabeth would be declared a bastard, and she couldn't help laughing at the irony of it being a blessing the Lady Mary was already so close to Elizabeth, she would help her sister though the loss of her father's love. Anne knew from the look in Henry's eye, the blame he put on her, that there was no going back. Even if she could convince Henry not to kill her as her, she knew she would never be allowed to see her daughter again. Her heart. She wondered if this was karma for how she treated Catherine.

Slowly ,sleep began to take over her again, but the nightmares would persist.

March 24, 1536

Greenwich Palace

George Boleyn was beginning to fear for his sister. He had not seen her since she made an appearance for Ash Wednesday to quell the rumors that she was being illegally confined. She had been frail then, looking pale in her cream gown. The light in her eyes was gone, and though he had never laid a land on her, she was terrified of her husband besides her. She ordered everyone but her ladies out of her chambers. His wife Jane said all she does is read the Bible and hold onto a pair of socks she had sewn for her son. She wept and only ate when her ladies forced her to. The King seems more disgusted with her than concerned with her behavior, and George knew he had to do something. So here he was sneaking through the palace with his other sister in tow. She was forbidden to be here, and Anne had been angry with her, but George knew that Mary may be the only one to get through to Anne.

When the couple arrived George bribed a guard who let them into Anne's chambers. His cousin, Madge Shelton, was the first to notice their arrival. "Lord Rochford, what are you doing here?"

"George?" Anne called out. They heard the shifting of her bed as she came out to her presence chamber. "What are you doing here? I told my guards to let no one in."

"I know, don't be mad at them. I offered them twice their salary to let me in," George pleaded.

Anne appeared through the curtain to her room wrapped tightly in a lavish robe, which seemed to eat her alive. She stopped dead when she saw his companion. She glared, "I hope you have not come to beg for forgiveness."

"Anne please," Mary stepped forward, "we are worried about you. I am worried about you."

"I am the Queen of England. What help could I receive from the wife of a knight?" Anne snapped.

"You sound like Uncle Norfolk," Mary rolled her eyes. "I am your sister Anne. I love you, but right now I am looking at a shell of you."

She couldn't help it, she broke the protocol and grabbed her little sister into a hug. She cried as she whispered, "what has he done to you?"

Anne began to sob into her sister's arms. "I lost my son. I lost my baby boy."

Mary held her while George cleared the room of her ladies, reminding whoever was to be here to protect Anne to stay nearby. He poured them each some warmed wine and grabbed a plate of food that looked like Anne had left untouched. Mary slowly helped Anne onto the couch. Anne looked at her sister with a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry I banished you when I should have supported you."

"Don't be. I should have known better. You love me and I should have asked your blessing to marry my William," Mary caved.

"You are clearly no longer with child, how is my new niece or nephew?" Anne smiled though it was forced.

"I had a girl, we named her Anne," Mary smiled, "she reminds me of you."

Anne frowned, "Protect her, don't let her fate mimic mine."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"He's going to kill me…" Anne whispered before getting more frantic, "The prophecies are going to come true…"

Mary gave George a glimpse of fear, wordlessly asking each other if Henry would dare. They all knew he would. Anne would not be as easy to get rid of. He was still fighting for her recognition as Queen, but it was mostly for the show. Even if Anne was herself, she would have a hard time winning him back. Now she was grieving and panicking. They both knew she was doomed if nothing changed. The siblings took turns letting Anne cry on them until she went to sleep and George snuck Mary back out of the palace. Mary wondered if she would ever see her baby sister again and the thought made her shudder. They were all so helpless.

April 30, 1536

Whitehall Palace

Some people thought the King had decided on a change of scenery for the hopes that his wife would feel better, but they were sorely mistaken. In all reality, King Henry hadn't thought much of his wife until Charles Brandon suggested she had been having an affair. He immediately assembled a committee to look into his wife's isolated behavior. He had set a spy to watch her and was startled by what he had reported. She had a few meetings with a handful of men, most notably, Mathew Parker, who she asked to look after their daughter's spiritual welfare, and Master Cromwell, who she pleaded with to remember to look after the people, and to save some monasteries for the people. To turn them into orphanages, schools, or homes for the poor. She fought with Sir Henry Norris over his intentions for her lady and dismissed almost all men from her rooms. Her father had apparently fought with her, and she had told him if he returned he'd be a head shorter. Now she was claiming illness again, refusing to dine with him. What game was she playing now?

Enraged, the King stormed into Anne's apartments. He was expecting to find music and her ladies dancing. He was expecting laughter and gossiping. Instead, he found a deafening silence past the clacking of the clothes her ladies were sewing for the poor. There was barely any light and Anne's lunch was still sitting out as if her ladies were silently begging her to eat it. They all stood and curtsied as he progressed through to her bedchamber. Anne was sleeping when he entered. He noticed how small she seemed for the first time. Her face was hollow and it seemed not even sleep could give her peace. Her body was flailing as she muttered, "No... no, not the fire. No, no, please don't burn me. Henry, have mercy!"

Suddenly Anne shot up from her nightmare to see her husband looking at her. She stared at him as though she should scurry out of bed and curtsy, but decided not to. It wouldn't change her fate. "Are you here to tell me goodbye and that our marriage never was?"

"Anne what are you talking about?" Henry demanded.

"I know Henry. I know about the commission you appointed to find charges to dissolve our marriage," Anne glanced towards her window that was barely open. The rain was pouring outside, helping her to feel as she felt; that she was already dead. "Please don't let them burn me."

Henry didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he expected when he entered Anne's rooms: a facade of indifference, a flash of fury, a plea to try again. He did not expect to find her a shell of her former self, already accepting to the fate he was still trying to wrap his head around. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he simply said, "you weren't supposed to know."

"Well, no, of course I wasn't. Just as Catherine wasn't supposed to either," Anne chuckled darkly, "but we women know. And it is not as if you hide it well."

"Was I supposed to fall back into your bed the second after you killed my son?!" he barked.

Anne looked away again wordlessly. She knew the truth, even if he didn't. "Unless you are here to make me perform my marital duties, leave. I will not have this argument again, it does nothing for us. Besides, I will be with our son soon, and none of this will matter anyways."

Henry was left speechless again. "Our trip to Calais is cancelled."

He turned storming out, shaking his head. What did he witness? He knew one thing was for certain, she was not having an affair. She could barely hold herself together, let alone seduce anyone. He went to find his sweet Jane, maybe she would calm his head after dealing with the games of his wife. He found her in the chambers Cromwell offered to her family. They sat down for a game of cards, and he forced idle chit chat trying to clear his mind.

Suddenly she asked, "your majesty, Henry, are you alright? You seem agitated."

".It is nothing you need to concern yourself with sweet Jane," Henry dismissed without looking up from his cards

"Well, I am always here, if you need an ear to talk to," she smiled sweetly.

"I appreciate you, Jane, you are always so thoughtful," Henry smiled, "I just had an argument with Anne, that I wish to forget."

Jane nodded, feeling conflicted. She witnessed her enemy the other day and felt a pang of guilt. She looked broken, and Jane couldn't help but feel partly responsible. She also did not want to hear about their marriage troubles, because she would blame herself for those too. She loved Henry and loved the idea of being his Queen, but she hoped Anne would be allowed to retire or be exiled. It would be an arduous task to step into the role knowing she did so only due to the death of her enemy. Instead, she smiled and changed the subject.

He couldn't forget it though, and later that evening he found himself again at Anne's doors. This time she was awake and out of bed. Sitting by the candlelight holding a pair of socks as she read the Bible. Again the room was quiet, though, and her ladies worked silently around her. When Anne finally noticed him, she ordered everyone to leave. She stood and poured him a glass of wine before sitting down. "I apologize for my behavior earlier."

He can tell she means it, but it also sounds hollow. She sounds as hollow as she looks. Suddenly he feels guilty, "do you truly believe I would burn you?"

"I do not know what to believe anymore…" Anne sighs, "no I guess not. I know you are wanting to replace me though. I do not blame you, I am broken. I broke when our boy was lost. You need a son, and I cannot control my jealousy when you exert your rights as a man."

"I am not replacing you," Henry argues, but even he knows it's not true. He has been dreaming of crowning his sweet Jane.

Anne scoffed, "Please Henry, do not insult my intelligence. We have played this dance before, except my role is reversed. You cannot simply annul our marriage though, not without admitting you were wrong to marry me in the first place and that Catherine was your true wife. You will never do that. We made sure our union was unassailable compared to your first and stomped out any threat to it years ago. I know Mark Smeaton was taken in for questioning, though the idea I would sleep with him, let alone anyone other than you, is preposterous. My enemies will flock to this chance and force testimonies that are false from those close to me. Hell, some will even do it simply to gain your favor. They will pave a path to your new marriage with ensuring you can do nothing but execute me... I never thought you would be our downfall."

"You were our downfall! When you killed our son with your hysterics!" Henry protested.

Anne gave him a mournful gaze, "I kept every promise I ever made you. I was always honest with you, I was carrying your son, I loved you fully. You promised I always had leave to be honest with you; you denied me that. You promised to love me until the Thames burned; yet here we are and it still flows. Seeing you so careless, not caring if I would catch you with that girl… you killed our love, you broke my heart, and it killed our boy. But you are King Henry the VIII and it can never be your fault... grant me these three last wishes. Use a French swordsman, a sober one. Be loving and kind to Elizabeth, none of this is her fault. Finally, bury me with our boy."

"I...I..." Henry stood. "You should rest, wife."

He left. He practically ran from the room. It was as if she was already dead, and he could not take it. Was this his fault? He practically ran to his chambers and shut the door, ordering no one to enter, only to find his long time friend waiting for him.

Charles Brandon held out a glass of ale for the King, and he took it swallowing it whole. The man chuckled, "I heard you were visiting the Queen's chambers. I thought you might need some company."

Henry said nothing as Charles poured him two more drinks, that he downed. He sat on his balcony staring out at the stars. They were silent for what seemed like an hour before Henry finally spoke, "three before one..."

"What was that?"

"My grandfather, King Edward, had three girls before he had his heirs. He could wait for the woman he loved to bear his heirs, why am I so impatient? Why can I not be satisfied with healthy children?" Henry asked his friend.

Charles was horrified, not knowing if he should answer. He didn't need to, Henry continued, "There is no way Anne has created a cuckold out of me, she is too frail to even think of it. At this rate, I wouldn't even need to execute her, she is killing herself. I am conflicted in my thoughts Charles, after seeing Anne in such a state. It is like missing a woman who is standing in front of you. This morning I loathed her, and now I cannot help but blame myself. If I had been more understanding and more faithful, would we be here? Would I have my sons?"

"I often wonder the same thing about Mary…" Charles whispered. The men were silent again. Finally, Charles spoke up, hating himself as he did. "Henry, death is permanent. I am the last person to speak up for your wife, but if you are missing her now… just don't have any regrets."

"I often wonder what Jane would be like as a wife," Henry confessed. "She would be the perfect queen, delicate, obedient, but would there be any passion? Anne drives me mad and infuriates me, but I know she loves me. I wonder if I would grow bored with Lady Jane as a bride. She certainly would not begrudge my affairs or give input in my government. She would be a mother to all my children, but would she be capable of bearing me strong sons? Intelligent ones?"

Charles didn't answer, no one but God knew the answers. Instead, the men drank into the early morning.

The next morning Henry sent for Elizabeth to visit them, and sent roses to Anne's chambers before he called for Cromwell. When the man arrived in the King's study he bowed deeply. He noted something was different about the King and waited patiently to see what news he had for him today. Henry waved for him to rise and Cromwell spoke up, "what may I do for you, your majesty?"

"I have spoken to Anne and there is no need for an investigation. I need you to cancel the committee. Also, I need you to select a few monasteries for me to give to Anne. She will get all the wealth from the lands provided and have full control of what happens to them." Henry ordered. "She has been ill since the loss of our son and I hope these will help her keep her mind off it."

Cromwell nodded, slightly annoyed. He had plans for all the monasteries he had investigated. It was a small sacrifice for not having to help murder a woman he respected though. "Anything else your majesty?"

"Yes, please start looking for a husband for Lady Jane, and a title for her father. Nothing grander than Earl," Henry said before thinking. "I am going hunting with Charles and some friends. I will be back before nightfall...also I need you to send for Anne's sister and her husband. I think it is time they are forgiven for their transgressions."

September 7, 1546

Greenwich Palace

King Henry and Queen Anne sat triumphantly as their daughter stood before them, accepting her birthday presents. Prince Edward of Wales, Prince William of York, and Princess Anne all sat besides their parents watching Elizabeth in awe. They all aspired to mimic their now 13 year old sister. Anne rubbed her swollen belly and smiled. Henry watched her with pride. The past ten years have been laborious to say the least. It had taken time for Henry to regain Anne's trust, and when Princess Anne came on Christmas of 1537, he perceived it as a miracle, not a curse. He realized it was proof that all he needed to have children with Anne was to be a true husband to her. He still had the occasional affair, but he was never so obvious about it, and he never allowed Anne to think she could be replaced.

They still fought, frequently, but the pressures they faced were slowly dealt with. Anne's popularity rose with her charity work that she was allowed to do through the land Henry granted her. When the North rose up, as she warned Cromwell they would, in what was known as the Pilgrimage of Grace, Anne pleaded for mercy on their behalf. Henry complied, much to the relief of Charles Brandon, who was the one Henry was charged with their slaughter.

Once Anne had recovered, she created true efforts to befriend her stepdaughter, Lady Mary. It was tentative to this day, but she helped sway Henry to make a marriage proposal on Mary's behalf to multiple Princes. Henry refused until Mary signed the Oath of Succession and Oath of Supremacy. While Anne persuaded Henry to give her better living arrangements, Mary was stubborn and refused. That was until the Summer of 1541 when Prince Edward was born. England rejoiced to the all English male heir, and Mary signed the Oaths. She was welcomed back to court and soon Henry made a marriage alliance for her. He ensured she could practice her faith when she married William, Duke of Jülich-Cleves-Berg in the Spring of 1542. Despite the differences in religion, and her many miscarriages, the woman was contented. Her one healthy son, Henry, was growing stronger with each year, and her husband doted on them both.

Soon Elizabeth would be off to marry Prince Eric of Sweden, a fate that caused Anne to weep with joy. Her Elizabeth would be a Queen. While Edward was to marry the Queen of Scots, much to the displeasure of her mother Marie de Guise. The union would eventually unite the crowns , though they were to remain separate through their life times, King Henry was proud to see his father's and his dreams coming to life. He also found pride in making his wife happy, in the strength her happiness gives their family. His robust and growing family thanks to her.

He often found himself wondering back to the woman he once called his angel. She had married the Earl of Surrey and bore him a daughter and a son before dying of childbed fever. Her son died shortly after she. He cried slightly when her death was brought to him, but he also has no misgivings that if they had wed, her sons would not be half as strong as his children with Anne.

The couple look at each other happily. Anne was finally the most happy, surrounded by her children, with the rebirth of her and Henry's love. Together they created a golden world.