Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my new favs/followers: Murron Bartlett, O'ConnorsGambit, and cocobyrd87.

Ch. 15

I find no peace, and all my war is done.

I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.

I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;

And nought I have, and all the world I seize on.

That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison

And holdeth me not—yet can I scape no wise—

Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,

And yet of death it giveth me occasion.

Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.

I love another, and thus I hate myself.

I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;

Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,

And my delight is causer of this strife.

~Sir Thomas Wyatt

Greenwich Palace 29th April 1537

"Reginald has been denied an audience with Francois," Warwick whispered to Lord Montague as they stood side by side in chapel. The Poles and Nevilles and decided to sit together during their time of worship, the king narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he stood across from them. Sitting in the front pew on the right side of the chapel, Jane observed mass with her eldest stepdaughter at her side. Mary had not yet seen Grace, Jane occupying the girl's time. Elizabeth remained in the nursery, too young to stand vigilant for the service.

"He sent me a letter, but it was coded. It was not even addressed to me," Montague responded, speaking over Grace as she stood between her distant cousin and father.

"It would do you well to refuse all contact with your brother, lest you wish to face treason eventually," Grace added, her lips tensed as if she were frowning. "You are one of many that is being watched at the moment. All of us Plantagenet relatives are. Do not think you are safe just because the king or Cromwell has not said so yet."

"Has the king voiced such an opinion to you?" Montague asked, curious to see if the king had spoken to her at all after her stunt in the gardens.

"Not of such matters. I do not have leave to speak so freely yet…but I will," Grace replied confidently. Montague shared a look of unease with Warwick, wondering what exactly had transpired between the duchess and the king. "I saw his letter. He was writing to Gardiner and Bryan, asking them to plead for your brother's arrest so they could bring him back. That's all I know," she revealed.

Montague's face turned white in an instant, his eyes darting to the king who appeared to be observing the service instead of side-eyeing the Nevilles. "Are you sure? They think my brother is that much of a threat? Francois does not even seem to care about the matter."

"Look what happened during his father's reign. Do you not think that the threat of another rebellion has not crossed his mind? Look what happened to Teddy. He was executed just because he had Plantagenet blood. Even though he had been held in the tower for all those years. And we cannot forget the De La Poles or Buckingham," Warwick remarked. Montague's uncle had been killed for his royal blood. Fondly known as Teddy, he was executed along with the pretender Perkin Warbeck in 1499. The de la Poles were both sons of Elizabeth of York, sister to Edward IV. One was killed in the Battle of Stoke in 1487, the other executed in 1513. Finally, Buckingham was beheaded in 1521 under suspicion of treason. Closely tied to the royal family, he flaunted his connections and as a result, he lost his head.

"And we will all continue to be in danger unless we join together and renounce your brother, my Lord," Grace finished, her tone a soft whisper as the mass was ending. The priest made the sign of the cross, finishing his prayers in Latin. All the courtiers followed suit before waiting for the king and queen to depart. Henry gestured to the queen, beckoning that she should lead the procession out of the chapel with Mary while he stayed behind for some unknown reason. Jane obeyed his orders, sending a wary look behind her. Since discovering his affair, Jane was immensely worried about the king's affections. But Anne Bassett dutifully stood in line with her other ladies so the matter must have been a religious or political one if he remained behind.

The king had grabbed onto Suffolk, discussing some topic of importance as the two friends made their way down the aisle of the church. The king's eyes flittered over Grace for a second, the blue orbs softening before returning to their sharp stare at the men directly next to her. He didn't like that the Nevilles and Poles were on speaking terms, the distant cousins rarely ever speaking to each other at court. He and Suffolk walked past, everyone bowing or curtsying before following behind in order of the pews. The Nevilles and Poles came first, Grace ushered from the pew respectfully as she walked in front of her Pole cousins, Warwick, and her brothers. Still speaking to Suffolk, the king turned his head slightly to watch her which she caught on to immediately. Grace narrowed her eyes slightly, knowing the king was about to speak to her. She didn't expect him to grab her wrist as they turned the corner, her family blocking their interaction from the other courtiers. They seemed to form a wall of men as the king whisked her away to a corner of the chapel away from prying eyes. She stared up at him stubbornly.

"You didn't need to grab me in such a way. You could have just summoned me," Grace spoke softly, forgetting formalities as she stared up at the king with an edge of annoyance.

"And where's the fun in that?" Henry retorted, caging her in the corner with his hands on either side of her head.

"Is there something you want, majesty?" Grace replied, sending a look over his shoulder towards her father. It seemed he was occupied in corralling the courtiers in the other direction so that the scene would not be witnessed. Suffolk met her gaze, giving her a knowing look. Henry had most likely spoken to him of what he wanted from her.

"You," the king spoke as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Grace huffed at him. Her sensitivity towards him had disappeared overnight, making the king chuckle as her rapid mood change. Instead of a tearful face he was now met with defiance, much like when he had first courted her.

"Is that all?" Grace rolled her eyes which seemed to entice Henry even more. He leaned forward, forcing Grace to press her palms against his chest before their bodies were completely aligned. His mouth went directly next to her ear, and it made her involuntary shiver at how close he was.

"I have a gift for you," Henry whispered, slightly backing away before sliding one of his rings off his fingers and sliding it onto Grace's. It would do her no good to refuse and he boxed her in as soon as he had placed the ring on her finger. She studied it, the gold piece loose on her middle finger as she twirled it around. The ring was one of the regular pieces he wore, a ruby set in gold, and she wondered why on earth he would bestow a piece like this to her. Her eyes moved from the ring, and she realized his face was directly in front of hers.

"This is my promise to you," Henry murmured, "That when your husband is gone, that I lay claim to you and no one else shall have you. That I shall protect you and honor you before all others, that I will seek no other woman except you." He leaned in even further, his hands still placed by Grace's head as his lips lingered over hers. And Grace did nothing to protest his movements, captivated by his declaration. Bringing one hand down, he grasped her right hip tightly while his body pushed against hers. There was no longer space between them. Grace's back was firmly pressed against the cold bricks of the chapel while her front felt the heat of the king. And in that single instance, Grace had no time to process her inner turmoil. All thoughts of her husband were banished from her head. She wanted Henry to kiss her as he so clearly was going to do. And he crashed his lips on hers in a frenzy, his hand gripping harder on her hip and pulling her against him. Grace's hands held his sides as he let him kiss her, her body squished between him and the wall. He groaned when she didn't push away, his hand slowly reaching for her skirts while the other still held his weight against the wall.

Grace felt the king's hand slide to the fabric of her dress, halting and staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "You can't possibly think I'll let you have your way with me in a church?"

Henry, his voice deep and seductive as he spoke, replied "Ill beg God for forgiveness." He went to kiss her again, but Grace prevented him by pushing against his chest. She knew he would try to take her. He craved her after being forbade to touch her for so long.

"And what of my forgiveness?" Grace questioned, hinting towards the fact that his treatment of her would not be so easily forgotten.

"I pray for it daily," Henry whispered, his lips lingering in front of Grace's again. And he was genuine. She could see it in his blue eyes, now clouded by lust. Her eyes fluttered and he thought she would let him continue, but he was proved wrong with her next statement.

"Then don't try and fuck me in a house of God." Grace's outburst startled the king and he temporarily loosened his grip on Grace. This allowed her to push right past him towards her father. Her departure awakened him from his stupor, and he let out a loud laugh that attracted the attention of the court.

"Welcome back to court, Lady Grace," Henry announced, beckoning Suffolk over. Grace and Charles locked eyes for a moment when they passed one another.

"Be cautious," he murmured softly, Grace nodding at his warning. She still had an ally in Suffolk though he seemed close to the Seymours. He would always take her side, even if Jane was queen.

Linking arms with her father and Montague in step with the Nevilles, they couldn't help but notice the king's ring on Grace's finger. "It seems you have underestimated yourself," Montague spoke, gesturing towards her new addition.

"No," Grace retorted. "I'm far from secure. This is merely a gesture of warning. Even if the king has bestowed such a gift on me, Cromwell is prepared."

"Then we shall all be cautious until you have proven yourself, daughter," Warwick stated.

1st May 1537

"Does she know?" More asked in question as he stood by his brother-in-law in the main hall, a wine chalice in his hands as he observed his niece.

"That the ring is my cousin's? Of course not," Warwick said, watching as his daughter mingled with the court. She stood with the Duchess of Suffolk, the king's ring hanging on a golden chain around her neck. The king's gift had belonged to his cousin, Teddy, the late Earl of Warwick who had been executed by the king's father. It was a family heirloom, one which should have belonged to Richard himself. The fact that Grace now possessed such an item guaranteed her safety as well as the power she held over the king. Cromwell was anxious, it was clear as day. Thought the king was not yet in the hall, his eyes wavered when he saw Grace surrounded by the nobles of the court. The Duke and Duchess of Suffolk, the Marquess of Exeter, and even the Howards swarmed around her. He had not expected such a commotion at her arrival nor the number of allies she had accumulated thus so far.

"He's going to mention this to the king," More quipped, sure that Cromwell was uncomfortable with his niece's presence at court as well as the fact that the Seymours would never be able to have the Howards full support. They had replaced a Howard relative with Seymour after all.

"It matters not, not when she has the power to control him." The king's ring hung on a gold chain around Grace's neck, the ruby glinting every now and then when it was positioned in the light perfectly. It was hidden beneath her red dress, a contrast to her usual blues and greens. She was trying to stand out, make sure Cromwell actually paid attention to her. She was making a statement.

The king's presence was then announced, the queen on his arm as she flaunted her pregnant belly. The court applauded for the royal couple as they made their way to the dais, Henry allowing Jane to sit first before he followed suit. His eyes soon lingered on Grace's figure, chuckling as she flickered her eyes back at him. She looked stunning in the red dress she wore, a string of pearls and a gold chain on her neck catching his attention. He immediately noticed the Duke of Norfolk next to her, curious as to why a Howard would be conversing with her.

"It seems you have caught the king's attention again my lady," Norfolk commented, his sharp and calculating eyes noticing the king and Cromwell watching Grace.

"I don't think I ever lost it my Lord Norfolk," Grace commented, earning herself a chuckle from Norfolk. She had a sense of humor, even if dealing with the king was deadly. It had almost cost his niece's head after all.

"It would do you well to heed my advice," Norfolk replied, Grace narrowing her eyes.

"You think I trust you, after what you did to your niece?" Grace questioned. Norfolk acted as if she needed him, like he was the key to her success. She had all the help she needed from her father and uncle. The York cousins were just a protection if need be.

"You must remember that his ire could have turned upon my family. I was under pressure." Norfolk's face turned dark at the thought that if he had sided with Anne, his own family could have been put into danger.

"You were being a coward, but that doesn't mean I don't understand the position you were put in. It could have been your head on the chopping block as well. If your son cannot learn to control his impulses, he may be the next victim," Grace commented. Norfolk's son was cruel and vain, flaunting his position around at court. Grace pitied his wife, the poor girl probably quite irritated with her husband's behavior. And being a new mother, she gathered that Frances de Vere was feeling as if she were caring for two children instead of one.

"You could have been as well. And I'm sure you don't forget that." Norfolk was not one to back down from a fight, his words easily sliding off his tongue as Grace frowned.

"You think he would have killed me?" Grace had never thought Henry would be merciless. Then again, if she had stayed with Anne in the tower Cromwell could have persuaded the king to kill them both. Grace blanched at the thought, feeling her stomach turn over in dread.

"No. I think he could have done much worse," Norfolk mused. He noticed Grace's distress, but instead of being amused he merely sent her a cautious look. "He still can." He nodded his head at the dais, Grace seeing Cromwell whisper in the king's ear before scurrying off to deal with some courtiers involved in the buying of religious houses.

"It's a shame that he's pocketing all that money that should belong to the church. But you understand my sympathies of course?"

"What you say is treason," Grace spit out through clenched teeth, making sure their companions had not heard. Everyone fathomed that Norfolk was a Catholic sympathizer, just as her uncle refused to renounce his Catholic faith. Though Norfolk was cunning about it.

Norfolk stared back at Grace, a hard and cold stare gazing back at her as if the soulless pits could suck her into them. "And you are so different from me?" Grace knew she wasn't. Her uncle was still loyal to the Church and her family had taken the oath out of duty. She knew her brothers and father may have followed the king's orders to fix the corruption Cromwell left in his path. They may have even agreed with some of the king's ideas regarding the Church, but she knew they were still loyal to the Pope, even if they hid it well.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts," Norfolk declared, strolling away as if he hadn't just exposed her family. Grace looked around her nervously, the Marquess of Exeter the closest. He nodded to her as if he understood her predicament. Being the king's cousin, the son of Catherine of York, Exeter was under extreme scrutiny right now. And he often spoke of his dislike of Cromwell with Lord Montague.

"You and I may agree that the Howards can be vile, but we are not so different from them, cousin," Exeter voiced. "And that is why we must ally with each other. The Howards are a means to an end. They may be cowards, but they have power." Grace pursed her lips, frustrated at the situation that had presented itself. Norfolk was right and she hated it.

"Very well," Grace replied, her mood now soured by Norfolk's statement. The king easily noticed her discomfort, having seen Norfolk disappear from view. He had said something that upset her and it bothered him immensely. Jane seemed to notice the king's tense behavior, his fingers tightening over the arms of his chair.

"Is something wrong, my lord husband?" Jane questioned, seeing the king's eyes on Grace. Perhaps that was why he was tense. Grace's presence may have made him uneasy.

"Nothing to concern you," Henry replied sharply, making Jane wince at his coldness towards her. Jane rubbed her pregnant belly, the motion comforting her for the moment. She would remain quiet now and leave the king to his own mood swing. She did not want to be in the line of fire if it concerned Grace Neville.

5th May 1537

The air was tense that day, the initial trials of Robert Aske, Lord Darcy, Sir Robert Constable, Sir Francis Bigod, Sir Thomas Percy, and others took place that morning. Grace had been denied an audience with all of them, hoping the king's sudden interest in her would allow her the opportunity to comfort those innocents. Cromwell had been the one to receive her request, not showing the king who was distracted by her appearance at court. Now they would be sent to London for trial.

Grace needed to speak to the king, making her way towards the main hall to request an audience with him. However, she had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Jane who had just came from his quarters. In the close confinement in the halls of the palace, Grace would have to pin herself against the wall to let Jane pass by with her entourage. Grace gave a shallow curtsy, a "madam" uttered from her lips as Jane went to pass. Instead of continuing her path, Jane halted directly in front of her, and Grace cursed under her breath. "Lady Percy, I wonder why you have come to court without your husband," Jane drawled. "It's quite unusual for a woman to be without her husband."

"I have come on his behalf to collect the king's debts for my husband's handlings in the North," Grace spoke as she rose from her curtsy and made direct eye contact with the queen. Jane was taken aback by her directness, frozen as a moment as she tried to maintain her composure under the watch of Grace's penetrating eyes. "He trusts me to handle his affairs at court while he rests for his health at Wressle Castle." It was a blow to Jane's pride; the king having never let her take part in his day-to-day tasks. Her opinion hardly mattered to him unlike when Catherine and Anne were queen.

"To leave your child so soon though…" Jane retorted. She would try to scold Grace in front of her ladies, try to make an example out of her. "That is unfair to your daughter, to be separated from you for so long at such a young age." Grace had to contain her anger at being reprimanded by a woman who was yet to be a mother. She had no concept of sacrifice, no understanding of court life. Her child would be taken away from her and raised by strangers in a household of its own. Grace could never do that to Rosalind.

"As you said, she is quite young and she will not remember," Grace stated, hoping Jane would stop pestering her and leave her alone. She started fiddling with her necklace, drawing Jane's attention. Her hand flashed forward so quickly Grace couldn't react, her neck pulled forward at an odd angle as Jane stared at her husband's ring in fury. It was ironic how only a year ago, Anne had discovered her own locket with Henry's portrait inside and now Grace wore his favorite ring around her neck.

"Where did you get this?" Jane whispered so quietly; Grace was not sure she had even spoken.

"Where do you think, madam?" Grace murmured, her eyes challenging Jane.

"Tell me, why are you holding on to a man who doesn't want you anymore?" Jane pushed, her grip tightening on the necklace as she pulled harder.

"Why did you fall in love with a married man?" Grace questioned, letting out a yelp when Jane tried to rip the chain from her neck. Jane's ladies watched in horror, wondering if they should interfere or let the queen do as she pleased. Grace was able to pull the chain from Jane's grasp, backing up far enough to where she could not reach her.

"He divorced her for me. He loved me." Jane was trying yet again to convince herself of the king's love. She held her stomach, feeling her hand against the life inside of her. Their child was proof of their love, was it not?

"Then why did he marry the late queen to my brother?" Jane had always wondered why the king would marry Anne off to someone so close to Grace, if it were a punishment or reward for the Nevilles' loyalty to him.

"To control her." Grace shook her head at Jane's words.

"Because he wanted to marry me. He wanted to secure her future first so that I would marry him. And I refused. That is why you are queen." It was so silent that a pin could drop, Jane's ladies trying to figure out what was occurring between their mistress and the king's previous paramour. And that is the moment Jane stopped trying to admit to herself that her husband never loved Grace. She had been a fool. She had been blind for so long.

"How dare you speak to me like that! I am the Queen of England, and you will respect me," Jane practically screamed, earning the attentions of the other courtiers who had heard their argumentdown the hall. She had started shaking, her ladies gathering around her like a flock of birds.

"Respect goes both ways, madam. And you have never respected me," Grace shot back, her nostrils flaring at the new queen with such discontent. Jane was at a loss of words, her ladies ushering her to her chambers. Grace was left behind in their haste, the courtiers now gossiping among themselves and staring blatantly at Grace. She had forgotten herself, a habit she needed to rid herself of. She just hoped no one had heard their conversation other than Jane. And now that she had just had a confrontation with the queen, she was in no mood to do with the king as well. She would approach him later, before the official trials occurred. She just hoped it would be enough to save the men in the tower.

Tower of London 11th May 1537

Cromwell was further interrogating the prisoners of the tower, Mr. Aske and Sir Thomas Darcy his victims of the hour. He wanted to break their spirits. Us the information they gave him against them so that they could be further punished for their actions against the reformation of the realm. Aske was the honest one, Darcy was trickier. He knew the treachery behind Cromwell's eyes would only lead to his death. Nothing could save him, but Darcy still clung to the hope that the king would see reason as Grace had spoken of.

"Since you asked me for the truth, I will answer that in all parts of the realm men's heart were most hurt by the destruction of the abbeys because they thought perhaps with a reason that this was the first fruits of the destruction of their whole religion in England." Cromwell could only act with raised eyebrows. Catholicism was not the faith of the realm now and the people had to accept that or face the consequences.

Cromwell's questioning of Darcy took an entirely different direction. "This letter of yours on the 19th of January you wrote to reassure the mayor of common Pontefract "I should keep a clean true heart to God on the King and whatever further to be a true petitioner for the commonwealth good." Darcy nodded; unsure what Cromwell was insinuating. "You signed it T. Darcy?"

"I remember it. But I am not sure, what is wrong with it." Darcy was defiant as he spoke, knowing he only meant that he would speak on behalf of the people, not that he would cause rebellion against the king.

"Can you not agree, was it rather spreading false rumors, for example, the parish churches we're going to put down which actually caused rebellion?" Cromwell questioned.

"No, it was the fact, that the abbeys were being suppressed and burned," Aske replied, sincere in his response. The people of the north merely wanted to save their beloved parishes from wrongful acts.

"It was 19th of Jan that after the King declared his Pardon and rebellion had ended," Cromwell stated, holding up the letter that Darcy had written himself.

"But I understood the King had also agreed to a free parliament where subjects could still
show their grief complains. My letter was only meant to…" Cromwell would not let Darcy finish, cutting him off in an instance.

"I will tell you what it meant, my Lord. What it meant is even after the King's gracious pardon, you had not changed your traitor's heart and opinions. You continue to seek the annulment of laws that make for the good of the commonwealth and you still wish to depose the King." Darcy saw no means in trying to defend himself. Nothing he said would dissuade this man from convincing himself that his actions were made in rebellion against the king. He was a doomed man and he accepted it.

"Tell me, why... they were so important to you?" Cromwell was curious as to why Aske fought so determinedly for the parishes of the North. Why he still petitioned for them after all this time, even if it meant his death was looming over him.

"Because the abbeys in the North gave arms to poor men and loyal belief to serve God. They were one of the beautiest of this realm to all men and strangers are alike. They took care of their servants, their tends, and their local communities in every sort of way. From maintaining bridges and seawalls, to see girls and boys were brought up in virtue. And when they stood, people not only has world of refreshment in their bodies, but they also have a spiritual refuge." Aske wholeheartedly believed that the abbeys were worth saving. He would lay down his life for them if only to convince Cromwell of their sacrifice to the communities of the North. But Cromwell would see no truth in his words. All he saw was treason against the king.

"So you grudge this suppression and the King's supremacy?" Cromwell pushed, wanting a clear answer from Aske.

"After such confessions, Lord forgive us," Aske muttered under his breath, his hands covering his face in what appeared to be shame. Cromwell shrugged his shoulders at the action. It was too late for penance now.

"It is not Mr. Aske but you, who are the very original and chief cause of all this rebellion and mischief. Although, you could probably find some ways of having all the noblemen's head of the realm struck off you if you wanted. Yet I trust, there might be one left who can still to strike off yours." Darcy's words held an air of power that Cromwell could never maintain. It arose from the fact he was born of noble blood and Cromwell did not possess a single ounce. He had right reason to be afraid as the words poured from Darcy's mouth. But it was not Suffolk he should be afraid or nor Norfolk or Exeter. It was Grace Neville that he feared in all her entirety for if she held the king then all would be lost.

"Well, may it surprise you to learn, Mr. Aske, there is very reason, I attempt to save you." Cromwell stalked out of Aske's cell, a smug smirk on his face as he left the man to himself. He was convinced Darcy would always be a threat, but for Aske, he was sure he could manipulate the man or manipulate the king of his own treachery.

A/N: Comments?