Anne wandered through the halls of the white palace as she considered what had just happened. While her mind spun, she recognized the reactions that followed in her wake. It pleased her to see the deference paid as courtiers stepped out of her path and offered respectful nods and small dips of their knees. How would it feel to have them sweep deeper bows and curtsies as she passed as their rightful, uncontested queen? Right now, even their small shows of respect excited her.
She and Henry had been cautious at first, keeping their budding love a secret. After months of rebuffing him, they had finally come to an understanding. She had had to show him that she was no Mary Boleyn, no Bessie Blount- some passing fancy to tumble into bed. And since then his attentions became something more- something altogether more tender and passionate than what she had expected. Now it seemed that he had resolved to the fact that only the wedding band would open her legs for him. She was no fool- she knew it was not only his lust for her that pushed their plan forward. With Anne, the king saw a promise of a golden future. A promise of a young, fertile wife who would finally provide him with his long sought-after heir.
But while Henry had painted this perfect picture of their future, Anne had known it would not be an easy path. To replace a queen was no simple feat. To replace a queen that had foreign backing, the love of the English people, and a living, intelligent, learned child was all but impossible. And while the courtiers she passed did offer her signs of deference, she was also not deaf to the whispers that followed. She was the perfect courtier- able to charm almost anyone, able to discuss and debate almost any topic, able to appear perfect and witty and gracious- but they would never let her forget that, when the day was done, she was just a knight's daughter from Kent. And there would be so many that would be just waiting for her to fall.
So what choice did she have? Right now, she held a powerful hand. She had her youth and beauty, she had (she prayed) her fertility, she had the king's blinding love and devotion, and she had the perseverance to see this plan through. But Katherine was a formidable enemy to have and her ascension to the throne would bring so many more out of the woodwork. She had to take this chance, didn't she?
But a part of her balked. A part of her was so sure that she was untouchable- that Henry's love for her would overcome any obstacle, Katherine included. Why should she sign away the rights that any future daughter of hers might have? Why should she set Katherine's daughter, who would already have almost every advantage with her perfectly royal blood, against a daughter of Anne's? The jealous, malicious lion in Anne reared its ugly head and she struggled to tamp it down. When she had decided to pit herself against Katherine and take her place, she had struggled with the overwhelming sense of inadequacy. How could she follow in the footsteps of such a perfect queen? Katherine really was a figure that she had looked up to as a child, as of course had so many. How could she compete? The only way was to completely demolish the competition. Second place, after all, was nothing more than just the first loser.
Aisi sera groigne qui groigne
The only way to win was to ensure that Katherine was banished from the palace. Banished from the childhood stories and the thoughts and well wishes of English subjects. Banished from Henry's heart forever. That goal had been what Anne had been working for, what had pushed her forward. To achieve the impossible was no easy feat and Anne had prepared herself for the battle. How would it be possible to now accept this secondary measure? This compromise? Her ambitions battled with her reasoning. Could she accept something short of absolute victory if it meant making concessions? No, the lion roared.
Anne had finally wandered back to her rooms and she quickly slid inside and dismissed her servants. Alone at last, she unpinned the stylish french hood (another expensive gift from Henry) and shook her dark hair loose. She sat in front of her flawless looking glass and took in the picture.
Smooth, unblemished skin. Dark, enigmatic eyes that she could flash and display an impressive array of temptations. Glossy, thick waves of dark hair, curling around her face. Thick, red lips encasing white, even teeth that could turn into a brilliant smile. Anne had never thought she was as pretty as her English rose of a sister, but now that she had come to court, she knew that those pale flock of birds all merged together. Anne had stood out, and unlike in her childhood, what had made her different was something to be proud of. But staring at this face after having just left Katherine, Anne could see the difference most markedly. Anne had had her share of troubles, but for the most part, she was untouched by grief, struggle, or pain. Katherine's face had been painted by her struggles. Lines had been grooved along her eyes and mouth, worry lines had been mapped all over her.
The weight of the crown was not an easy burden to hold. And as Anne stared at her lovely face, the truth sunk in. This was her first test. If she wanted to be queen, if she wanted to sit at Henry's side as his true wife, then this compromise was one she had to take. And she knew that it would be the first of many.
A/N: Thank you FBJ for kicking me into gear!