Chapter 20
Château de Boulogne-sur-Mer
Nord-Pas de Calais
March 13, 1537
Francis paced in the grand hall of the military fortress, waiting on his wife. Around him, everyone was rushing, preparing for her arrival when the page sent word they were near. The rain attacked from outside as lighting lit up the night sky. The thunder almost covered the sound of the blood draining scream that came from outside the front doors. Francis sprinted, he could not help himself, coming to Anne's side as her ladies tried holding her up. Anne's face in pure agony. He hollered for one of the guards to help him, and together they picked her up, carrying her inside, out of the rain. They brought her to her chambers before the midwife Francis has summoned ushered all the men out. Francis gave his wife a pleading look, begging her to survive this. He turned crying as she whispered, "It's too soon."
Hours passed before her screaming ceased and the French King heard the sound of a child. His heart dropped, he had another babe, but at what cost? He had not stopped pacing until this moment. His thoughts plagued him with regrets. He should have never begged her to come, not when she was carrying their child. He could have lost them both, and he was almost certain he lost his Queen as well. She was so pale when he left her…
Finally, Lady Seville comes out carrying a small bundle, "Your majesty, I present your daughter."
Francis cried as he smiled, holding his arms out for the babe. As he nestled her close he dared to ask, "how is her mother?"
"Resting, she is fine, she passed out moments after giving birth. She doesn't even know the child's sex, she had only stayed awake long enough to hear the scream before smiling and falling into a deep sleep. It is common after a difficult birth. The midwife estimates the physicians miscalculated and that Anne conceived closer to your wedding date. The child was still early but not nearly as much as we had believed. They will both live," Nan Seville explained. Francis kissed the head of his daughter, thanking God not to punish him for his foolishness. He stayed there in the hallway with his child until Anne awoke, ordering everyone to not tell her the sex of the child, only that it was healthy.
As soon as he was allowed he entered her chambers, he did. He stopped short when he saw her lying in bed in all white. "You look like an angel."
"Well I feel like I have died and been brought back," Anne smiled. "Is that our daughter?"
Francis mocked a frown and sat down on the bed, handing their daughter over. "Who told?"
She laughed, "No one did, I promise they all kept your secret. My ladies are not quietest and I could hear them wondering what we were going to name her. I had a feeling when my pains began too. Only our daughter would make such an entrance."
"Anne... I am so sorry. I should never have asked you to come, I feel like I would have lost myself in grief had I lost both of you," Francis said with a tear strolled down his face.
Anne didn't know what to make of his declaration, her own feelings still foggy. They had not been married a year, and spent much of it apart, yet they both had a strong devotion to one another, "Do not apologize. I knew the risks, but I could not let you go to war, knowing I may never see you again. Without getting to tell you I love you, before you walked through the valley of death. Besides, it was meant to be. I was fine all through my journey until we landed on French soil. It seems Louise was determined to be born French."
Francis laughed, "Are you sure you do not want to name her Anne?"
"I am sure. It is fitting she is named for her French grandmother. I remember her from when I was at court. I never spoke to her, but I was in awe of her. She was never a Queen, but she was formidable, and I am sorry she will never get to meet her namesake. I hope our daughter will be as remarkable a woman as she was," Anne assured him.
He bent down and kissed her with both gentleness and hunger. "How could I ever thank you for such a gift?"
"Live," Anne said simply, placing a hand on his face, "Live, so we may have a long marriage, where we are not haunted by our past, only blessed with the present and future."
He nodded and kissed her hand, "you will have to remain here until you are churched. I will stay as long as I can. I love you too Anne."
She nodded, "where are we going to raise her?"
"We can decide that later, after I return," Francis smiled, "we will work out a schedule, but I believe children need their mothers. For now, I would like, since the land is disputed, that we both name her Duchess of Calais. Both countries will contribute to her income, and the title will forever bond our two nations."
Anne thought the idea over, though the cynic in her thought it would lead to more fighting between nations. "I will discuss it with my council; I like the idea, I am not sure they will, and unfortunately giving titles is not a call I can make alone, especially one with so much political implications."
"A Regent is usually allowed to do such things," he said as he looked at her curiously.
"I am not simply a Regent to my son Francis, I am also Anne Boleyn, daughter of an upstart, the Great Whore, and now the Queen of France. I may have won the council over, and I may have been able to get the populace to warm up to me, but I have to tiptoe a fine line. I have been able to maintain my position because I do it well and I include my council in any decision that will affect the King and England," Anne explained, "so yes, while I love your idea, I will have to discuss it with my council. My son's council to be correct."
Francis nodded, gulping down the argument he was going to counter with. He always seemed to forget that Anne's place in her son's government was fragile. He surmised she deserved more power and voice in the government, but he could also see how forcing this issue could lose her the position she has.
Her face softened, "I will fight like hell for our little girl, I promise."
He nodded, kissing her head. They sat like that for a few moments, locked in time. Louise began to fuss, and Francis picked her up, "Princess Louise Marie Valois of France. Brother to the King of England, you are going to change the world."
He left three days later, and despite tradition, he stayed with her all three nights he was there. Holding her while she slept. They discussed minor topics, delighting in their tiny reprieve from the world. She watched him leave from the window, part of her wished she could beg him to stay. She couldn't, of course, he was needed on the battlefield. To win the war for their family. Her heart broke slightly as she watched him ride off, surrounded by guards as they made their way into the Low Countries. Francis was to be the trap; the person to drag the Emperor deep into the exact territories he meant to reconquer. When he had disappeared she turned around, and began writing to her council before deciding she could not. She needed to let someone in England know she was safe but had to remain in France for the next six weeks until she was churched. She needed to get one letter out, and she had to choose carefully, someone who would be the last to expect to hear from her to alert Princess Mary to her situation. She held her breath before scratching a letter down and sending it off to Master Cromwell, hoping he would understand it was from her without any of the decorum she usually had on her letters.
She then crawled back into bed and did something she rarely ever had time for anymore. A long nap.
