A/N: Hello, my lovely readers, here is the new chapter. I do apologize for the delayed posting, but I was having some issues with my laptop and had no access to the document for the story. Lesson learned. And thank you to Vwchick, Ophaeliia, hateme101, Crockett Rocket, QueenAnneTudor, dracoqueen, Child of Dreams, Cyberbook, Reading Pixie, Guest, IWantColouredRain, and jamestudor for all the reviews on the previous chapter. Now, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors or any of the characters, Showtimes does.

...

Charles Brandon felt a heavy lump form in his throat as he made his way through the corridors of the Tower.

A part of him wanted to believe this was all a lie, some cruel lie. But deep down, he knew Catherine's hatred for Anne Boleyn still burned as it had when the woman had still been alive. And now, it had extended to Anne's children.

His heart ached as he thought of sweet little Margery, who had only died because she had eaten a cake meant for her older half-sister. Of course, it still would have been just as horrible if Elizabeth herself had died.

The last few years had changed his views on many things. He was certain he would never truly change his mind about Anne, but he couldn't hate her children. And he could not, and would not, ever have believed his wife to be capable of such a vile thing as the murder of a child.

...

"So, it's true?" he asked as he glared down at her.

Catherine sat against the wall, her eyes staring straight ahead. Her gaze was empty, but he knew she could hear him.

"So, even now when it may very well be our last chance to speak, you will say nothing to me?" Charles scoffed. "Condemned to die for treason and yet you behave as though you'll be crowned queen. I wonder, are all women that bear the name Catherine so obdurate?"

He knew what he said was cruel, and yet he felt no regret as he spoke it. And indeed, it seemed to pull his wife from her daze, and she rushed at him.

"You!" she cried, her fists pounding upon his chest. She could feel the tears springing to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not give the man she had once loved as her husband the satisfaction of knowing just how he had hurt her. "You have no right to-"

"I hated Anne, that much I will gladly attest to," Charles growled, his hands seizing Catherine's wrists and holding them fast. "But I would have never condoned the murder of children who were innocent of their mother's offenses. Or their father's."

"And yet, you could cut down the children of the rebels with no such thoughts in mind," Catherine sneered. "It wasn't enough to steal the lives of those men, you had to add to their anguish by robbing them of their wives and children. Their children!"

"I was thinking of the safety of my own wife and children!" Charles snarled. "I have lost count of how many times I've told you that. Do you think little Charles and Hal would have lived to see the years that they did had their parents been condemned to die as traitors!"

"Well now you have lost your family," Catherine's voice grew soft as she looked to the floor. "A wife sentenced to a traitor's death, a son dead from illness. You will grow old soon, Charles. What are the chances that you will marry or father children again?"

Charles flung her hands away from him as though touching them revolted him.

"May God have mercy upon your soul, madam," he said softly before leaving the chamber.

As he walked away, a part of him felt the need to return, to say at least a courteous farewell to his wife. After all, in spite of the coldness of their relationship the last few years, she was still his wife, and he could have done this at least in memory of the love they once shared.

But he did not. He wrestled with that part of himself that bade him go back to her. Even if only for a moment.

But he would not.

Not even when he heard the sound of soft weeping coming from the chamber.

…

"Why are they blaming me?" Elizabeth Seymour sobbed pitifully. "It's not my fault!"

"I have just about reached my wit's end with you, you stupid girl," Edward spat, glowering at his sister. "Lady Catherine Brandon already confessed to poisoning Margery! She said it was you that supplied her with the poison with the intent of getting rid of Elizabeth!"

"I can't help the little bastard didn't eat the-"

Elizabeth was immediately silenced by a slap to her cheek.

"Senseless…impudent…wretch!" Edward snarled, striking his sister with a stinging blow across the face with each word. "Haven't you the faintest realization what you've done?! The king has decreed everyone involved in this travesty is to pay dearly for their part! You might very well have doomed us all with your folly! What chance have you now of ever contracting a good marriage or any royal favor? Our sister hates you, the king will see your head on a spike, and our young niece is dead all because of you!"

A sob caught in Elizabeth's throat as she remembered Jane's assault. She had only done as her sister had bade her, why should she be the only one to fall?

"Our family's only chance now is to be rid of you!" Edward seethed, seizing Elizabeth by her shoulders, and shaking her with such ferocity her sleeve tore. "I see that now, there is no help for you!"

With one final blow that sent her reeling, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the cell.

Elizabeth leaned against the wall, tenderly feeling for bruises, of which there were plenty.

As she dragged herself to the door, she called for the jailer, Master Kingston.

"Sir!" she called out. "I wish to speak to a confessor!"

...

...

Alright, I hope everyone enjoyed that, and to make up for the delay, the next chapter will be out at its predetermined date of Monday, September 21st. Until then, ladies and gentlemen.