The feast was a lavish affair that showed no sign of winding down, the King deep in his cups after delivering his announcement that the Queen carried a child to the court. Though the Queen had been showing for months even in her frumpy dresses, it was only announced this late in Catherine's pregnancy for fear that the babe would not survive.

Alas, Thomas Boleyn's prayers that the Queen would miscarry were unmet, and with only two moons until she reached full term, Catherine and her babe were in good health.

Despite her age, pregnancy suited Catherine. Her once tired and aging face now glowed, a small smile constantly on her lips. And why should she not be happy? Anne thought bitterly, watching the Queen place a hand on her swollen belly as she sat beside her husband on her throne, her head held high and proud as courtiers who had once flocked to Anne's side for her favor now returned to the Queen's on the slight chance that the woman would give Henry and England their much desired Prince.

For the first time since arriving at court, Anne could see the woman that Henry fell in love with when he was first crowned King all of those years ago and fought to have her as his wife.

He loves me, Anne reminded herself, feeling completely hopeless at George's side as the King turned to his wife with a joyful smile upon his lips and leant over to speak to her.

"For the love of God Anne, smile," George hissed in her ear, his hand gripping her wrist painfully, though Anne barely noticed for her eyes remained on the royal couple as the King -her beloved Henry who claimed to love her above all others- gently laid his hand upon Catherine's belly, his lips curled into a gentle smile as he felt his son kick.

Her lips trembled, tears pricked her eyes, and if she was anyone else but the Lady Anne Boleyn, the woman who an entire country cursed calling her witch and whore, Anne would have succumbed to her tears and fled to her rooms to nurse her broken heart. Instead Anne pursed her lips until they stopped trembling and stubbornly blinked away her tears just as she met Queen Catherine's eyes.

Anne would not forget the look upon her face until the day she died.

Catherine smirked, certain that she had won, her eyes hard and hateful as they looked upon the younger woman who wished to replace her. All the woman had to do was deliver a healthy child. A son would secure Catherine's position, and even a daughter would help her cause. With two daughters, Henry would have a much harder time divorcing her.

Anger swept through Anne as the King remained oblivious, his attentioned fixed upon his much desired son as his cow of a wife glowered down at her. Oh how she wished to be in that woman's place! To have Henry's child growing in her belly as he proudly rested his hand upon her for everyone to see-

Instead she was forced to suffer in silence as he fawned over the old cow and had yet to spare Anne a glance all night.

He loves me, she stubbornly reminded herself yet again as she pushed aside her bitterness.

Anne smiled back, a beautiful, vicious twist of her lips. You have not yet won, Your Majesty. Our game is not over until the child in your belly lets out his first cry.

Catherine looked away first as Henry claimed her attention once more, and Anne had had enough. Wrenching her wrist away from George with a withering glare, Anne turned to Mark with a coy smile. "This entire affair bores me, dearest Mark. Lets make our own entertainment for the rest of the night."

Mark shot George a meaningful look, and she realised that Mark and her brother already had plans. Despite her suspicions of the exact nature of their relationship, Anne pushed her fears and worries aside. George's choices were his own after all, but Anne would not hesitate to use them to her own advantage when the time came for it. George had chosen to set Anne's wants and needs aside for his own gain, and she would do exactly the same now he had chosen who his loyalty belonged to.

Mark, a man of true kindness who noticed just how much this entire affair pained her, smiled and made no effort to refuse her despite the frustrated look George shot her way. "What do you have in mind My Lady?" Mark asked politely, his smile infectious as plans started to form in her mind.

With one last lingering look at Henry, Anne smiled and took Mark's hand in her own. "Come, my friend. Let us have our own revelries."

George put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Father will not like it Anne," he warned quietly.

Anne shrugged him off and turned to him with a playful smile. "Oh come now George! When did you become so dull? It will be a small gathering of friends. Father will not even hear of it."

Of course, Anne's father would hear of it the next day, as a few friends turned into many acquaintances who all but filled Anne's quarters. With only an hour to prepare, Anne, Nan and Mark had truly outdone themselves as they had arranged their small gathering to have plenty of fine wine from the kitchens and a makeshift band of musicians Mark was acquainted with who were all too eager to gain favor with her despite the late hour.

Of course, once the King's feast started to wind down, more of Anne's supporters turned up and her small gathering had turned into a full blown revelry. Deep into her cups, Anne danced with her ladies and even a few noblemen as her quarters were filled with music and wine.

Even George's sour mood lifted, his drunken laugh echoing around her quarters as he got far too familiar with Mark in such company.

George was right. Father was going to be furious, but it was of no concern of Anne's presently as for the first time in months she enjoyed herself with little thought of Henry, family duty and Queens.

She had changed from her modest blue dress she had worn to the feast and into a dazzling red gown that left her back bare and showed more skin that was socially acceptable. It was a dress she had been saving for Henry, eager to see the heated look in his eyes she had known would be present the moment she had tried the dress on. She felt beautiful, the centre of attention as she danced with Nan, laughter spilling from her lips as Mark caught her off guard and spun her around the room, her hair spilling free of it's elaborate braid as she threw her head back and laughed.

This is freedom, Anne thought closing her eyes, no care in the world and never wanting this moment to stop as Mark spun her into the arms of another man who pulled her far too close to his body. Anne opened her eyes and looked up into the heated gaze of Sir Thomas Wyatt. For a moment Anne's smile faltered. She knew the whispers of her past relationship with Thomas had followed her to court. It would do her no good to be seen dancing so intimately with him.

Anne had loved him when she was barely a woman grown, and a small part of her longed for those simple days before he was married and she was put into the King's path. But that love had been quickly eclipsed by the passion that Henry stirred in her heart. How could she ever be content with a simple life when Henry had showed her what love could really feel like.

"You look beautiful, Anne," Thomas said, his smile causing an old ache in her heart.

Anne gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Thomas," she replied quietly, trying to put distance between them but Thomas's grip would not loosen. Anne looked away from his penetrating gaze and forced a polite smile to her lips. "I hope that you are enjoying yourself this evening."

A warm chuckle slipped passed his lips. "It is a pleasure to get a moment alone with you, Anne. I was beginning to fear that we would never speak truly again."

Unease spread through her, though her smile remained fixed in place. "We have spoken many times since your arrival at court, sir," Anne replied lightly, wry of the eyes that were fixed on them.

"You're always with the King," Thomas muttered. Anne tensed but remained silent. There was nothing to say for it was the truth. She glanced around the room hoping to catch George's eye but her brother was nowhere to be seen. Damn you George, Anne cursed. "I know that you are doing as your father commands-"

"I love Henry," Anne said quietly but sternly, her eyes hard and impatient as she met Thomas's sad gaze. "Watch your tongue, Thomas."

"And if the Queen has a son," he continued relentlessly, continuing to spin her around until the rest of the world was a blur. "What will you do then?"

"It matters not, Thomas," Anne snapped, her patience leaving her because is that not the problem with this whole sorry affair she has gotten herself into? What shall she do if Henry gets his heir? She pushed the thought away and desperately searched for a friendly face to assist her. Mark had taken up his violin, his sweet melody filling the room, and Nan was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing back her unease, Anne forced herself to look back at Thomas. "It does not concern you."

Thomas stops suddenly, his eyes impossible bright as he says, "Marry me."

Anne's head was spinning from the wine and the dancing but clearly Thomas had indulged in too much. "You are being absurd Thomas."

"I am serious Anne," said Thomas, his hands coming to frame her face. "You loved me once, and I love you still. I would be a good husband to you-"

Anne pushed him away, her eyes narrowed into slits as she replied, "You have a wife Thomas, and I am sure that she will be missing your presence. Perhaps it is time for you to return home."

"I can get a divorce-"

"Goodnight Thomas," Anne said stiffly. She made to leave but Thomas grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Release me," Anne snapped, reeling at the audacity of the man.

"So you will be his mistress?" Thomas demanded. "You would rather be his mistress than my wife?"

"Yes!" Anne snapped, her lips curling into a vicious snarl. "How many times do I have to say it Thomas for you to understand? You and I have no future. I love him."

Thomas reeled back as though she had struck him, and opened his mouth to reply but something behind her caught his eyes. Thomas backed away as though she had the plague. She was vaguely aware of the laughter around her fading and the music coming to a sudden stop. Her guests were quick to drop into bows and curtsies, each greeting the King with a quiet, "Your Majesty."

Forcing a playful smile to her lips, Anne slowly turned to the King and dropped into a graceful curtsey, her eyes never leaving his as she purred, "Your Majesty."