Henry stared at the letter in front of him. He was angry that the letter even existed-it was proof of his weakness. He glanced over the table and saw his councilors looking at him expectantly, all with baited breath. He looked to his right and saw Henry Percy, Duke of Northumberland give him an encouraging nod. He reached out to the letter and tore it open.
As he skimmed the demands-nay, pleads-from the rebels, he felt his anger subside. Robert Aske, the true leader of his people who were rising up made it very clear that they respected him as the true head of the Church of England, that they recognized Elizabeth's rights as his heir until Queen Jane delivered a healthy Prince of Wales. They were not trying to fight any supremacy of the throne. They were just protecting these establishments that were staples of the community-providing services that were otherwise nonexistent. They had no problem with the corrupt monasteries being shut down and liquidated- only their well functioning abbey and others like it should stay open. The letter even included a beg for mercy, stating that they knew that the action of rising against him was wrong-that he could demand their heads. Robert Aske personally asked if he could spare some of the others and offered himself up.
Henry had always been able to respect those who admitted their wrongs and humbled themselves before him. It was those who still fought against him that he found unable to forgive. He was still annoyed that he had to be the first to reach out to them, offering to hear their issues, but he was mollified by the overall tone of the letter they had sent. He looked over at Percy again. The boy had been the only one who had begged him to hear them out. He would have to reward him with something or other. That could be dealt with at a later date.
For now he would have to respond. He would give them the mercy they were begging for.
"Norfolk!" the man stood. "You will send my reply to Cromwell. I will have it ready for you within the hour. You are dismissed, gentlemen. Thank you for your service." If Norfolk protested being treated as a page, he did not show it. He just bowed, as did the rest of the men, and they all left the presence chamber, leaving Henry alone to draft his reply.
Sitting alone at the desk his thoughts strayed to a few nights ago when he had Anne alone. He had forgotten how soft her skin was, how perfectly she smelled when he had her close. He had had a little too much to drink that night, but it hadn't altered his memory of having his hands on her at all. Damn his wife's brother for interrupting that! Oh what could have happened had they not been broken up by that cold fish, Edward Seymour.
He knew that she had wanted it just as bad as he did. He could taste the lust on her as he had moved his mouth over hers. He was desperate to have her. He remembered when he had first met her, had first kissed her. He felt that passion just as clear today as he had in the beginning. And there was no need to stay away from her now. He had had her before, it would be easy to have her again. Now he was glad he hadn't rushed her into another marriage so quickly. It would have to happen soon. Once Jane had a son, he would revisit the idea. His councilors, the Seymours especially had been insistent. They didn't want Anne trying to declare that they were still legally married and pushing Elizabeth ahead of Jane's son.
He would marry her to some gentleman that wouldn't mind accepting some titles to look the other way as he brought Anne back to his bed.