Anne was on her knees in the chapel saying her daily prayers. She had always been religious, but ever since her time in the tower when she had danced so close to death, she found a new sense of peace with God. She prayed for her family, for her sister's daughter who had just come of an age to be joining court, and for her own little daughter. Henry had expressed that Elizabeth should be sent to an estate in the country soon to truly focus on her studies. Anne was reluctant to let her out of her sights, but knew that if a betrothal was to come about for her little daughter, she needed strict schooling that wouldn't be interrupted whenever her mother wanted to take her for a walk in the gardens. She would, however, be insistent that it be a manor that was less than a days ride from court. She wanted to be able to visit her daughter as often as humanely possible.
Henry had mentioned a possible match with King Francis' youngest son. That would be perfect for her little girl. King Francis was a friend to her and she knew that it would be a good environment for Elizabeth, who was sure to flourish at French court. She wrapped up her prayers beseeching God to allow the betrothal to come to pass. She stood and shook the wrinkles of her skirt out. It was getting late and she would have to get ready for supper shortly. She had just exited the chapel when a strong hand wrapped itself around her arm, yanking her back and up against the wall. She grunted from the pain before looking up at her assailant.
Thomas Seymour stood too close to her, pressing her up against the wall and Anne's nose wrinkled at the scent of wine washing over her.
"Darling Anne" he slurred, gripping her tightly.
"Master Seymour." She responded curtly. "I would appreciate it if you released my arm" but Seymour only laughed.
"Would you now? Well I'd like a wife who wasn't so frigid." Anne opened her mouth to give him a scathing retort when his wine soaked lips latched onto her. She was stunned still and for a moment couldn't react as his mouth assaulted hers. When reality finally snapped to, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved as hard as she could.
He was much stronger than her, but with his obvious inebriation her push had him staggering backwards. He chuckled darkly before slamming his hands against the wall, trapping her. No man had ever laid his hands on her and although Thomas had yet to hurt her, this was the most threatening situation she had ever been in. Fear washed down her spine as she sunk in on herself, trying desperately to avoid his gaze. Thomas smirked before grabbing her by the chin roughly, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"There we go, not so tough now, huh?" His nails dug into her skin and she tried desperately to find her courage.
"You will unhand me, Master Seymour" she declared, infusing her tone with a confidence she did not feel.
"I will do whatever I wish, my lady" he purred as he released her chin. "Soon you will be my wife and you will not deny me what I am entitled to." His hand started to run down her bare neck as his eyes appraised her body. Anne felt bile rise in her throat, cursing herself for heading to chapel at a time where it was mostly deserted. Pressed up against the wall, unable to flee, she felt tears well in her eyes. As his hand slipped past her neckline and over her breasts, she couldn't stay silent. Her hand stretched out and slammed across his cheek, throwing him back once again. Breathing heavily, she stared at him in fear. While he was obviously distracted, she gathered her skirts and made to run past him. As she fled, she heard him growl in anger and felt his hands wrap around her arms again. Struggling, she felt the fabric of her sleeves rip. She was about to scream in terror when a voice rang out angrily.
"What on EARTH are you doing?!"