Thank you all for your feedback! It motivates me so much, really.

This one took me quite a while because I wanted to include so many things and had to look stuff up. Well, here it is. Next one is already half-finished and I will stray a bit from the path of historical reality now (I will just speed things up a bit. Henry and Anne found it hard to live with the tension and so do I!) , I hope you can forgive me ;)

Quick reminder: Cat's sister Elizabeth is Anne's aunt by marriage, as she is married to Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, the brother of Anne's mother.

Anyway, here you go.


February, Ashridge Estate, Hertfordshire

Charles

~o~

"Ho!" The king was in a great mood despite the absence of his sweetheart. He sent game and passionate letters but apart from that, he seemed to live for the moment. Charles understood. At court, there was not only Lady Anne. Campeggio bothered him, Wolsey bothered him and the Que- Katherine bothered him. Charles had already suggested to send Wolsey away as soon as he was no longer needed for the negotiations with Campeggio and Henry had not protested. He had asked him sharply whether he should send the Queen away, too. Charles had stuttered his reply until Henry had stopped him with a laugh. "You will never be a politician, Charles. Too hot-headed, a warrior, not a courtier." He was right.

This hunt was a welcome break from court, from the lies and schemes and flattery that he had come to resent so much. But he still looked forward to going back to Hampton Court, only for her and Lady Anne's suggestion. Gambling with her excited him. Everyone at court played cards and dice and now, in the cold season, everyone grew bolder and more daring. Charles had won countless dances, poems, songs and even a kiss here and there. He was a good player, could keep a straight face and had a talent for seeing through acts and lies. He had wanted to kiss her again ever since Christmas Day, ever since he had been too baffled to respond. He still felt his cheeks redden when he thought about it. He, the most notorious seducer at court, had stood there like a stable boy. He had sworn to try again at court but Lady Anne and Catherine were inseparable and he could not work up the courage to openly ask her to go for a walk with him. It was considered a perfectly acceptable wager though. She would not offer him a kiss, she was too shy for that, but Lady Anne would, spurring the king. Catherine would offer a dance, or perhaps a poem. Whatever she would choose, it would be something intimate, courtly fashion decreed. And he would seize the moment. Perhaps he would even be bold enough to ask her. She had kissed him, after all, that meant something. Wine and gratitude, that's what it meant. She had been alone with him for so long, that had contributed to it as well, for sure. At court, they were rarely alone and all intimacy had vanished and Charles missed it dearly.

He was almost certain that he wanted to marry her. He had to, for there was no other woman for him. He would do everything in his power to win her.

Perhaps she missed him as well, only a bit. That would be enough for him for now.

"Charles? If we continue at this pace, even the badgers will outrun us."

Charles spurred his horse and reined in next to his king.

"I thought it was a doe you're hunting for, Your Majesty." He grinned.

"Sometimes, I think you have it in you to become a great poet." Henry grinned back. "The saying goes that it is love that turns a man into a poet. Tell me, Charles, who is the unlucky subject of your affections?"

It was perhaps considered high treason to punch a king but Charles was tempted for a moment but luckily, something distracted him.

"The unlucky subject of this hunt is within reach, Your Majesty." He whispered. Indeed, not a hundred yards away, a majestic deer had lowered its head to drink from a little brook.

They were lucky for the wind did seem to carry their voices in the opposite direction.

"Do not think I will forget this, Charles." Henry grinned as he drew the bowstring. "I have a suspicion anyway. And you know of course-" He let go and the arrow flew through the air. "-that I always hit the bull's eye." The deer fell with a dying cry of agony. It was already dead when they reached it, blood coloured the water of the brook bright red but only a few yards farther down, it had been diluted and no trace of red was to be found in the crystal clear water.

~o~

Hampton Court Palace

Catherine

~o~

It was strange at court without the king. There was no one to join the two factions that had formed: Katherine's and Anne's. Cat was still stuck between them though neither of both was exceptionally understanding. Anne got angry every time Cat served the Queen and the Queen, while far more courteous than Anne, was equally displeased with her. She just hid it better. But Cat was never called forth to read to her, never did the Queen chat with her in Spanish as she had before. Only the old and the old-fashioned remained with the Queen and Cat could not deny that Anne's chambers were far jollier.

There was a new musician, Mark Smeaton, and he and his violin had made Cat cry more than once. There were games and dances and Anne encouraged poetry and music. They embroidered chemises for the poor and an altarcloth because Anne did not want to be eclipsed by the Queen. They went to mass thrice a day and Anne did not even eat fish on a friday. She did everything a queen was expected to do and more. She was Henry's perfect counterpart.

But even her immense efforts could not overshadow the tensions at court. She was only an earl's daughter who had presumed much, who had risen above all others. Elizabeth, Cat's sister, Duchess of Norfolk, was back at court briefly and refused to curtsy to her niece. She refused to talk to her sister, too, though Cat could not say that she had missed her much. Elizabeth was too proud to be a pleasant companion, too dull-witted and too boisterous.

Old Norfolk had not approached Cat since the tennis match but she was aware that she was not exactly in his good books. It did not matter. Yes, he did wield significant influence amongst those of old blood but that counted for little and less these days. A knight's daughter would be queen, a standard bearer's son was the king's best friend and a traitor's daughter would make her own way. The old days were over.

Wolsey had paled even more and he was constantly sweating. Campeggio was not an easy guest and in the king's absence, it fell to the Cardinal to entertain him- and secure the king the annulment he so desperately wanted. Anne's hatred for him had grown cold. She had risen higher than Wolsey had ever anticipated but her power had not changed her nature. She was as vengeful as ever.

"He will lose everything." She said one evening when Cat shared a cup of wine with her in Anne's grand bedchamber.

"His position as archbishop you mean?"

Anne smiled. "Oh, Cat. You were always too sweet for this world. No. I mean everything. His position, his wealth, his woman, his children...his life."

Cat was at court too long to be shocked. A life was shattered in moments here.

"It is not worth it, Nan." It really wasn't. "Do not waste your time on him. He is no longer important. Let him go to York. Choose a new Archbishop of Canterbury. One of our faith. But leave the Cardinal be. Perhaps one day, you will have need of him."

"Never. There is nothing this butcher's boy could give me. I have taken everything I want. And I cannot forget his arrogance. No. You might be as forgiving as the virgin Mary, but I am not. And when he is ruined, I will smile in his face and he will know that the day of vengeance has come."

Cat loved Anne for her passionate character but her unforgiving nature would one day pose a problem in this fast moving world that had neither conscience nor memory. Forward was the way, not backwards.

"Well." Cat drank up her wine. "Then I will pray for him. With you as his enemy, he has need every single prayer."

~o~

In the king's absence, both factions grew bolder with every passing day. One of Ambassador Chapuys' men had called Anne a scheming whore. George Boleyn had defended his sister fiercely but not wisely. The Boleyns all had a temper. Chapuys was indignant as he took the insult personally, Anne was again scared to be brought down by Katherine without Henry to protect her from the Spanish queen.
The air was full of hostility and suppressed anger when finally, after months of avoiding each other, the worst possible scenario happened: Anne and the Queen met. In the Great Hall, right before dinner. Both were supposed to be somewhere else and therefore rather shocked for a moment, but this shock soon turned to cool hostility.

Anne did not bend the knee. She kept her intriguing dark eyes on her Queen, the lady she refused to acknowledge as her mistress.

Katherine on the other hand seemed to fight her impulse to say something harsh but her cool blue eyes gave her feelings away.

Cat stood between them, had walked ahead to tell Mark to play a certain song Anne was fond of to calm her. She took a step towards Anne- and received a piercing look from her queen.

Katherine was the first to speak after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Lady Anne." Her voice was impressively calm but cool. She acknowledged Anne's new title.

"Madam." Anne did not sink into a curtsy, an open affront- but still better for her position at court than bending the knee. Her self-assurance showed the courtiers that she had not reason to doubt that soon, she would have no reason to curtsy to anyone but the king. That soon, Katherine's jewels would belong to her.

"I take it you are on your way to your new chambers. I cannot stop you. But these are fickle days, my lady. I advise you not to feel too much at home there."

She did not take a step back to let Anne pass but Anne would not just leave anyway.

"Oh, I won't for I do intend to move to a new suite of rooms soon enough." She smiled, a smile laced with victory. "Enjoy your dinner, madam."

As she walked past the Queen, the hem of her bold azure blue gown brushed against the Queen's classic purple velvet dress.

The Queen had no choice but to stare after them and Cat tried to ignore the stab of guilt as she followed Anne to the extravagant suite of rooms at the far end of the palace where Anne still resided now while the Queen, all alone in the royal chambers, had to wonder how long she would still reside there.

~o~

The king's return to court came as a relief. He was in a great mood, always laughing and joking after almost three weeks in the countryside. Anne was about to withdraw to Hever, angry that Henry had left her alone for so long, but the king lifted her off her horse, kissed her in front of half the court and professed his love for her in words so sweet that even Thomas Wyatt's poetry paled in comparison. And when Henry promised to host a ball in her honour and to go on a more elaborate hunting trip with picnics, dances and games as soon as the weather allowed, Anne grudgingly allowed him to kiss her again. Cat had to hide a smile.

"Have you enjoyed life at court in our absence?" Brandon appeared next to her out of the blue and Cat forgot about the king and Anne alltogether.

"I will enjoy it far more now", she said without thinking, biting her lip for being so obvious. She knew how to flirt well normally. And a lady would never openly admit her affection, she would run from her admirer until he was mad with love, then she would perhaps allow him to catch her. Well, I seem to have forgotten my education. I leapt into his arms at Christmas and now I am as obvious in my feelings as a farmer's daughter during the hay harvest. Perhaps she should offer him a few wet kisses behind the haystack.

He looked at her with confusion for a moment, then he smiled the empty courtier smile they all had practiced so well.

"Yes. His Majesty is in high spirits. No doubt the days till lent will be filled with entertainment."

"A ball, a hunting trip, dances and masques. The days have to be twice as long so that we can still sleep." What am I even saying here? She shook her head at her own foolishness but he did not seem to notice.

"And games. Gambling, if I remember correctly." He smiled differently this time. "I hope you are prepared to lose, my lady." Brandon offered her his arm to walk inside and she did not hesitate to lay her fingers on the dark wool of his fashionable doublet. Her heart was jumping in her chest.

"Oh, I learnt playing cards in France, Your Grace. I know every trick in the book."

"Perhaps it will come in handy then that I read so rarely." His laugh was infectious.

~o~

"Well now, Lady Catherine. Are you ready?" The king grinned. It was a cold afternoon at Hampton Court and they were forced to stay inside but he was still merry after his reunion with Anne.

"I am."

Anne already held a pack of playing cards in hand. "Shall we play Rentoy? Catherine and I against Your Majesty and His Grace?"

Henry shot Catherine a quick glance, perhaps to see her reaction, but she was not aware why. Anne was setting her up against Brandon because that meant she would have to pay her wager to him. And wagers of gold were unfashionable in mixed groups. She would have to give him a dance, a poem, a song...or a kiss. She felt a blush betraying her thoughts and hastily raised a hand to hide it.

"What is your wager, Lady Catherine?" The king asked as if he had read her thoughts. She risked a quick sideglance at Brandon who did not seem to listen. Or perhaps he was just very good at pretending. Anne on the other hand was a tad too excited.

She could just as well shout it for all to hear. Certainly Brandon would take note of her strange behaviour? No, it seemed he didn't. He didn't even look at her at all. Cat was almost disappointed. Well, no, she was disappointed. And in her wish to get his attention, she did something very silly. She did not object when Anne, flirting with the king, conveniently forgetting that Catherine had told her not to do something French, offered a kiss. It meant nothing in France, a bisou, a friendly kiss, a mere peck on the cheek. England had surpassed France in frivolity though and here, she was quite certain, it would more than a bisou.

But she had achieved what she had wanted: Brandon's attention. Now though, she damned her reckless, foolish courage. How would he respect her after all if he thought her one of those loose women. Those? First Christmas, now this. I have lost all shame and judgement it seems. Good that mother is not here to see what has become of her little girl. While she herself considered her own behaviour improper, she knew she was not doing anything overly immoral in the eyes of the court. In fact, the company Henry and Anne kept was likewise frivolous and those kind of favours were constantly exchanged.

"And what can we offer you?" Henry stared only at Anne.

"Oh, let us just say you will have to grant us a wish." Nan smiled the smile she had reserved for Henry, her fingers went to her neck as if she only meant to rearange the golden B but Henry's gaze dropped to her chest and stayed there for an inappropriate amount of time.

"Well, then we can begin, I think." Brandon raised his voice, hoping to rouse the king from his thoughts but he was not really successful.

"Yes, begin, indeed."

Anne dealt the cards with utmost fuss and Henry followed every movement of her slender hands with hungry eyes. Once, her fingers brushed against his, only briefly, but the King of England shuddered under her touch. He is mad with love for her, mad with passion, desire, lust, affection. Anne had no reason to fear that his feelings for her would cool anytime soon.

Cat took up her cards. They were not bad, a Valet of Hearts and a Queen of Clubs amongst them. Anne placed one card in the middle of the table, face up. Hearts were trump. Sometimes, life wrote the best allegories.

"You play with hearts, my lady Anne?" Henry asked.

"Oh no, I offer you mine." Her smile would have put the devil to shame. "Be careful with it, I only have that one to give."

A quick glance at the king told Cat that he would be no threat. It was like duelling a man with his head in the clouds. He had barely glanced at his cards, instead, he stared at Anne, who pretended not to notice but Cat knew her well enough to know that she was equally excited. Oh, Lord. This is not a game for four people but for two and a half. She glanced at Brandon and caught the look of amusement on his handsome face. Well, at least he was enjoying himself.

"Your Majesty." The duke gently reminded his friend that it was his turn. The king threw a card on top of the first without really looking at it and Cat had to suppress a grin. A high trump card, wasted right at the beginning. Brandon said nothing, his face betrayed no emotions. That surprised her, normally, he was not good at hiding his felings. His own card gave nothing away, was as nondescript as one of Francis Talbot's love poems.

She herself hesitated a tad too long and cursed herself when she saw that Brandon had noticed.

Anne played only marginally better than the king but Brandon was better than Catherine. While Anne and Henry flirted, Brandon and Catherine played. He was quicker than her and more daring. Catherine was used to being the better player and this situation was new. Or perhaps, deep down, she did not really try to win.

Brandon (and the king, who paid more atention towards the end) won by a hair's breadth, but they won.

While Henry claimed Anne's wager there and then, Brandon only looked at Catherine.
She felt heat rising to her cheeks. Oh God, this was embarrassing.

"Shall we?" She nodded at an alcove in the great audience chamber, a niche hung with sumptuous fabrics that would shield them from prying eyes. There were a few of these nooks that allowed lovers and confidants to share a moment of intimacy without appearing too immodest.

'Shall we'. How very seductive.

"After you, my lady." Brandon nodded unsmiling.

Anne's eyes followed her and perhaps Jane Parker's but the other courtiers were preoccupied it seemed. Thankfully.

The light in the niche was dim once Brandon had drawn the curtains close. He stood only inches away from her, she could feel his body's warmth without touching him.

His gaze was intense and she stared back, unable to think of something witty to lighten the mood.

Her heart drummed in her own ears as if it was on parade, so loudly that he was surely able to hear it. Would he kiss her now? Or did he expect her to pay the wager?

"I do not want to win this on the card table." He said and her loud heart skipped a beat. He did not want to kiss her at all. He could have just as well thrown her into a tub of ice water.

"I shouldn't have offered it." She replied, trying to hide the bitterness, and, to her surprise, saw a jolt of disappointment darting over his face.

"Well, you haven't." His tone was cooler now and suddenly, Cat understood.

"I do not want it this way either." She said and waited for his reaction, subconsciously holding her breath. It took him a while, but then his face lit up.

"So you want it a different way?" He blurted out.

"I could be persuaded." She smiled. Brandon reached up to caress her cheek, then his fingers travelled from her jaw to her collarbone and Catherine inhaled sharply when he touched the sensitive skin of her neck on the way. You floosy. It was her father's voice but she did not care.

Gingerly, she reached out to touch his chest, feel the warmth of his body through the velvet of his doublet. Her fingers crept up slowly, and she marvelled at their path as if they were not part of her arm. She felt a hint of stubble on his cheek when he cupped it with her hand. The black of his eyes had consumed most of the blue and his gaze was so intense that she felt goosebumps forming on her skin. Slowly, as if to draw out the moment, he lowered his head. She was ready to kiss him back, but unexpectedly, he brought his lips to her ear instead: "I will try to persuade you then, my lady." She could feel his warm breath on her skin when he chuckled and was tempted to just press her lips onto his. But then, she let go, her fingers fell nimbly to her side. It had been her who had initiated the kiss last time. This time, he would have to approach her. She had lost most of her dignity already but if she did it again, she would not be much better than a Smithfield whore. Catherine tilted her head to face him, her nose only inches away from his: "I suggest you put your best foot forward, Your Grace. I am a Stafford of Buckingham. We are not easily convinced."

He grinned back, the fingers that still lingered on her skin twitched in excitement.

"I will keep it in mind." He whispered in a hoarse voice before he brushed over the soft skin under her earlobe one last time (Cat tried hard not to suck in her breath too audibly) and left the privacy of their little nook. Oh, Lord. She sank onto a chair. Her heart was still racing in her chest and she felt his phantom touch on her skin.

What did it mean? Was he interested in her as a person? Or was it just physical attraction? But he knew that he would never get under her skirt, didn't he? Was this all a game for him? She was a floosy, yes, but she was no whore. Hopefully he did not think her as loose as her sister- And there she was again, Mary, loud and bold and ruining everything. He is a skirt chaser, always has been. My skirt is just one of many. He could try all he wanted, she would not lift hers for him. A kiss was all she was willing to give. Somehow, the excitement ebbed away. She had fallen for him like Petrarch for his Laura, like Isolde for handsome Tristan. But was it the same for Brandon? He was no young, naive maiden. Young naive maidens were his prey, rumour had it. He was old enough to know what he wanted and experienced enough to know how to get it. She remembered his touch, shuddered, and wondered whether he knew he had this effect on her. Whether it was only a shoddy trick that worked on all women.

If she was only one of many though, he could have just taken the kiss here and now and moved on. Or was it the hunt he enjoyed? He had saved her from the king's wrath, too. It did not fit.
On the one hand, there was the Brandon that was always kind to her, even when she did not notice. The Brandon that had saved her without ever acknowledging the part he had played. The Brandon that had consoled her after her sister's death, the Brandon that had offered himself as a shield in a snowball fight and rubbed her frozen hands warm. But he was also a courtier, the king's best friend, sharp-tongued, bold, daring, audacious, impertinent. The man that had women blush and drool within moments. The man that had married thrice: a girl with a fortune, an old lady with a fortune, the king's sister. He was scandalous but had still retained the king's affection like no one else. He was a skirt chaser if there ever was one. Half the young ladies at court had succumbed to his charms, just like she herself was about to. That was, if the rumours were true. And rumours rarely were. They were never quite off the mark, dangerously close, so close that everyone took them for the truth- and yet, they were miles away from it.

Oh, she wanted to ask him what his intentions were, wanted to beg him to want her back. But her pride, at long last, reminded her of its existence. No. Not again. I will be patient. I will wait. If he is seriously interested, I will find out. If all he want is to get between my legs (Cat blushed at the thought) then I am not losing much. There were other men after all. Perhaps not as charming, not as daring, not as intriguing but men with a title and a fortune. If she could not marry for sentiment, she would marry for worldy reasons. Most ladies did and she had heard that some did not regret it. I will be patience personified and will not behave in such a frivolous manner again. If he wants me, he will accept it.
Perhaps in the meantime, she would actually find a way to circumvent the nagging obstacle called 'Mary'. Because that much was certain: Leviticus said that their match was cursed and although Henry displayed a strange moral flexibility, she did not have the same ability to delude herself. Brandon had lain with her sister, he had admitted it. And did she really want to be with the man who was responsible for her sister's disgrace? YES! her stupid heart shouted, ...perhaps not, her brain offered hesitantly. So much for making up her mind.

It was Anne that roused her from her thoughts. "Are you planning on coming back before Easter?" she asked. "And where is Brandon?"

There was a movement outside the little nook, whoever tried to spy was hidden by rich drapings.

Anne had seen it too. "Ah, although I would love to listen whether he actually managed to write a poem for you, I think it is time to change for dinner."

"No poem." Cat replied. "But yes, I need to change as well."

Only in the sanctuary of Anne's private chambers did they speak again. Anne pulled Cat down onto an upholstered bench that was covered with embroidery frames and Catherine was careful not to sit down on a needle.

"So? What happened? You were away for so long, I already thought you had lost your virginity."

Cat blushed. "Anne!" she cried out with indignation.

"Well, someone here has to." Bitterness laced her voice. Anne was waiting for her wedding night for years now.

"So, what happened? Did he reply this time? Or did you play the chaste maiden and refuse him?"

Apparently, her face did give something away. "No. Please do not say that you refused him! Cat, do not tell me that we did all this for nothing."

Cat laughed. "Why, you mean you took great pains to play a game of cards and flirt with the king? I thank you, Nan, there is no better friend."

Anne grinned. "I am glad you appreciate my sacrifice. But do not torture me. Did you refuse him?"

Cat looked at the piece of embroidery that lay between them. "No. But he did not kiss me either. Oh, Anne-"

" 'Oh, Anne'. Is it truly this bad, is it?" Anne chuckled."My lovesick little Cat." The lovesick little Cat was about to stab Anne with one of the long embroidery needles when Anne raised a hand, signalling defeat. She had still not stopped laughing thouhh.

"Do you want to know or not?"

Anne nodded, bit back the grin. Cat told her what happened and Anne was now the perfect listener.

"I told you! He is as mad for you as you are for him", she said when Cat had finished.

"Have you listened? He could have kissed me but he hasn't."

"Men are hunters." Anne smiled. "He wants to feel as if he deserves your kiss."

"You are only trying to comfort me."

"And you are behaving like a fool. You have spent so much time at court, you know how men flirt. But now, all of a sudden, you are as simple as a milkmaid."

"Why, thank you, it is always good to hear encouraging words from a friend."

"Well, your tongue is still sharp enough to make you an old spinster." Anne grinned. "You know how the game works, Cat. Stop being scared and self-conscious. He wants you."

"That might be." She remembered the way he had looked at her. "Well, yes, perhaps he does. But he is Charles Brandon. The most notorious philander at the English court. Not only here. He even charmed Margaret of Austria in the Netherlands and God knows who in France. Can he really be serious? Because I am not playing any other game but the one for the ring."

Anne was silent for a suspiciously long time. "I know. And I suppose he knows that you are not one to open your legs for a man. When Talbot -"

"When Talbot?" Cat felt her heart sink in her chest.

"He started telling some tales during the inquiry but Brandon defended your honour. No one actually believed Talbot's claims, you have always had a virtuous reputation, but not many spoke up against him. Brandon did. He knows that you are no loose woman like-"

"Our sisters." Cat smiled sadly.

"Exactly. But I know what you mean. Perhaps that offers a greater challenge. A woman of noble birth, a virtuous virgin. I do not know him well enough. Do you feel like that is all he wants?"

Catherine thought hard. "No. Yes. I don't know. He is so changeable."

"Well, I must admit, I don't either. He was an unfaithful husband even to Mary Rose Tudor. But it it seems as if he had no affairs lately."

"Or he hid them well."

Anne shook her head. "No. I think if he had an ongoing affair, I would know. But that does not mean that he had no dalliance, that he has given up his philandering ways completely."

It did not exactly encourage Cat that Anne was not certain either.

"Well, just wait. And if a lady can make a husband out of Charles Brandon, it is you." She stifled a laugh. "Catherine Stafford, tamer of skirt chasers."

"And who are you? Tamer of kings?"

"Only one so far and I am not quite sure who tames whom." Her friend admitted with a subdued smile. Then she shook her head and rose from the bench, walked over to the wardrobe. "So. What will you wear to tame him then? Aphrodite's costume?"

The embroidery frame hit her at the shoulder.

"I deserved that." Anne admitted. "But the question remains."

"I have a new one made from fabric I got for Christmas. Red damask with a kirtle and undersleeves of cream satin." She would wear it with the ruby and pearl pendant he had given her for Christmas. Rubies were the stones of love, pearls symbolised chastity. She was certain that he had not been aware of the symbolism but she appreciated it now.

"You dress like a queen." Anne smiled.

"And what will the future queen herself wear?" Cat asked as she stepped next to her friend to have a look at the many gowns.

"Silver?" Anne asked and pulled at a sleeve. "Or-"

They both looked at a gown made from a dark bluish red velvet, a shade very close to the forbidden purple. Pearls and gold beads adorned the neckline and the undersleeves and kirtle were made of fine cloth of gold that shone even in the dim candlelight of Anne's chamber. In the great hall, Anne would shine as bright as the North Star.

"Or." Cat agreed. The real queen would not attend and Henry would approve of the fitting choice. It was time for Anne to be perceived not as a royal harlot but as the next Queen of England.


A/N:

Rentoy is a real card game that was played at that time but there were no Hearts, only Clubs, Coins, Goblets and Swords, and let us be honest, that's all rather unromantic, so I changed it.

Colour symbolism: So purple is known as 'the royal colour' but in the late Middle Ages and the Renaissance, it was replaced by blue and red, mostly because the snail that was used to produce the pigments was on the brink of extinction. As far as I know, in France and in England, blue replaced purple in the King's royal mantle, the one he wore for official ceremonies. Different, paler shades of blue were also the colours of marriageable women and servants.
Purple was still the royal colour though and, according to sumptuary law, a colour that was worn only by members of the royal family (We all remember the great scene in The Tudors where Anne refuses to acknowledge Katherine as her mistress).

Only that much from me, I found it really interesting to see how colour perception changed and how deeply symbolic clothing was back then.

Replies to reviews:

Thank you all for your reviews!

Leefa: Thank you! I'm happy you liked it.

LamAlladin: Thank you! Well, I don't really want to give too much away and I'm not a 100% sure yet but I am not unwilling to save Anne, that sounds so accusing!

TSSKS: Thanks! Yeah, I thought Anne and Cat have their similarities and differences and are close friends and Charles and Henry are the same. Both relationships are somewhat complicated (give me complications, I feed on them!) As for the historical demise, I am really torn still although I have a vague idea what I want to do. Anyway, thank you for your feedback!

princess07890: Thanks! Yeah, I am a sucker for slow builds, I think I have to hurry a bit though because otherwise they'll still be chasing after each other when their grey and toothless.

Unique16: You have no idea how much I actually enjoyed writing that. Some progress finally!

Guest: Yeah, I would really hate him too if he did! Thanks for leaving a review!

xenocanaan: Thank you! Yeah, I don't like writing them apart either, I need the tension^^