Anne was churched and returned to normal court life just two weeks after she had born the Prince. She had spent her last days in confinement finishing up the staff appointments for her son's household and ordering furniture to Eltham Palace, which would serve as his nursery, as Henry had given her leave to do. When Edward was older, Anne would see to it that he and Elizabeth shared their studies, but for now, he was too young and too precious to be exposed to a three-year-old, even if she was a Princess. Henry wanted the Prince sent to Eltham before guests began arriving at court for the Christmas season. He too wanted to prevent his only legitimate son's exposure to disease. Henry had been in daily meetings with his Privy Council, discussing the decision to reinstate Lady Mary as a Princess. It took nearly a week to sort through everything, but ultimately it went to Parliament and was ratified. The Lady Mary was to be called Princess Mary once again. However, the stipulation was that since the King's marriage to the Princess Dowager was invalid, Mary would be last in the succession.
That meant that not only would Anne and Henry's sons supersede her as princes, Elizabeth and any other daughters they had would supersede her as well. Still, she would have the title of Princess, and that was something. Then, in the albeit highly unlikely event that the worst befell all of Anne and Henry's children, Mary would be Queen. The King had also ordered a week of festivities in honor of the birth of the Prince. There were jousts and maskings and elaborate dinners with exotic themes. Of course, Anne had missed out on these festivities, as she had still been awaiting her churching. When she finally returned to court life, the entire court could not help but comment on how well she looked well after childbed. Her cheeks were still rounded and her breasts still heavy with milk. Anne reveled in the besotted glances Henry would throw at her, just like when she was a girl newcome to court and he had just begun to notice her. After everything was settled for the Prince's nursery palace and he was dispatched there, she had continued to work with her mother the Countess of Wiltshire, (soon to be the Duchess of Wiltshire) to finish planning celebrations for the twelve days of Christmas.
This Christmas would be the merriest Christmas at court in decades. It was the first time that there would be a Prince in England's cradle. Certainly, it was the first time in many years that there were two living royal children from the same woman. Anne's heart felt lighter than it had in a long time as well. For once there was no rival, no deep desperation to bear a son, no anxiety at all! Indeed, Anne had almost forgotten what it was like to have no shadow of anxiousness darkening her spirits. She would be uncontested Queen during all of Christmas, and shortly after the new year, she would hope to conceive again. It was also a great source of joy for her to have her little daughter Elizabeth with her for the season. She was the most engaging and precocious child, and surely everyone had to think it so, not just Anne with the bias of being her mother. Even Princess Mary was much taken with her sister, despite the odds. Anne spent about an hour or two with Princess Elizabeth every day. Today, George joined her as they read the legend of Mélusine, an old French tale about a water goddess who rose out of a magical fountain and married a knight.
Anne let Elizabeth read the story in her stilted French. "Mélusine est née de sa…fontAIN sacrEE". Anne giggled. "Fon-taine sac-rée, ma petit cherí", she corrected her. Elizabeth looked up from the book and smiled at her mother. "Fontain sacrée", she amended. Anne nodded. Elizabeth bent her brilliant red gold head back down to continue reading before she blushed and looked back up. "Your Majesty, Lady Mother, this says that Mélusine was naked", she giggled. George chuckled and so did Anne. "It is a part of the story, Elizabeth". She pointed to the line. "See here? 'Sa peau était pâle comme le marbre blanc de la fontaine'. She was so beautiful that her skin was as pale as the marble of the fountain. It was said to glow with unearthly light". Elizabeth scrunched up her face. "But Lady Mother, why would someone want to be so pale? Surely it must mean she was ill?". George laughed out loud.
In England, and indeed in most of Europe, the beauty standard was pale skin, light eyes, and blonde hair. Anne shook her head. "It was a sign of beauty". Elizabeth scoffed. "I cannot see how!". She turned to George. "Lord Uncle, I am sure that Her Majesty, my mother, is the most beautiful woman there is, and she isn't pale like marble". George laughed again. Anne was unlike most of the other women at court. She had dark hair, black eyes, and swarthy, olive skin. As a child, she had been teased for her dark features. Even in her adult life as the King's acknowledged mistress, many foreign dignitaries reported that she was not the handsomest woman there was, probably based on the fact that she was not like the pale, light eyed women at most royal courts. But she had conducted herself with confidence since the first person who praised her looks when she was a girl was no less than King Francois of France, who shared a similar coloring. "Of course, you would be right", George agreed. "Your mother the Queen is the most beautiful woman there is". Elizabeth nodded and looked down at the book. "My Lady Governess says that this story is centuries old. That must be why they are wrong about what we think beauty is now". Anne laughed. "Perhaps, ma chere". She indicated that Elizabeth should continue reading and her daughter obediently obliged.
"You know, Princess, you are a descendant of Mélusine", said George once Elizabeth had finished. Elizabeth looked up at him skeptically. "Lord Uncle, this is a fairy story. My Lady Governess says that fairy stories aren't real". "Ah, yes", said Anne indulgently, but the story of Mélusine is supposed to be real. You see, she is named as the matron of the royal house of Luxembourg in France". Elizabeth was looking at her mother intently as she continued. "Have you begun your studies of the English royal lineage?", Anne asked. Elizabeth shook her head and her red gold curls swung gently under her cap. "No Lady Mother. Lady Bryan says I will begin in the new year". "Well, I will have you know that you are named for your Lady Grandmother", said Anne. "That is to say, His Majesty's mother, not the Queen's, although they share the same name", George supplemented. "Your grandmother was Queen Elizabeth". "Oh I've heard that", said Elizabeth brightly. "She was a Plantagenet Princess, like Mary's Lady Governess the Countess of Salisbury". Elizabeth paused thoughtfully. "Lady Mother, I've heard that the Plantagenets are the true Kings of England". George and Anne looked aghast.
"Who said something like that to you Elizabeth?", asked George quickly. "Not Lady Bryan?", asked Anne. Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "No…", she answered tentatively. "I overheard it from some servants. I…I don't think they knew I was listening". Anne nodded as she made a mental note to speak to Lady Bryan about her household staff. "Very well", she said aloud. "Well, the last Plantagenet King, Richard III, lost at the Battle of Bosworth to your grandfather King Henry VII. Everyone had considered King Richard a usurper anyway, and they were happy to have a Tudor on the throne". This wasn't exactly true as far as Anne knew from her own history lessons. Many Englishmen wanted Edward Plantagenet the Earl of Warwick; the Countess of Salisbury's brother- to be King, as he was the only surviving York heir. And then of course there were the several pretenders that rose up during Henry VII's reign acting the part of one of the princes lost in the Tower, and many of them were supported by thousands as rival Kings. Henry VII had had all of them executed; Edward Earl of Warwick just before Katherine of Aragon arrived in England, to oblige her royal parents. "When your grandfather and grandmother married, it united the houses of York and Lancaster and ended the Cousins Wars, and everyone was very happy", said George, who must've realized what Anne had been thinking. "And anyway, as the son of the eldest Plantagenet Princess, and grandson of the last lawfully crowned Plantagenet King, Edward IV, you can rest assured that your father is the true King". Elizabeth nodded, contented.
Anne took a short breath and continued with her previous topic. "Now, sweeting, your Lady Grandmother Queen Elizabeth was the daughter of another Queen Elizabeth. You will have heard the story of the Queen's Oak?", Anne queried. Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. My nurse read it to me; the story of how a beautiful widow stood under a big oak tree to ask the King to help her as he rode by. She was so beautiful and kind that he fell in love with her and married her and made her his Queen". Anne smiled at her daughter. "That's right. But, did you know that this is the story of your great grandmother, and how she married your great grandfather, King Edward IV?". Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. "No, Lady Mother! I never knew!". Anne nodded. "And your great, great grandmother was Jacquetta, the Duchess of Bedford". Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. "Jac-quet-ta", she sounded out, puzzled. "Lady Mother this isn't an English name, is it?". George laughed and pinched Elizabeth's cheek. "Nothing misses you, does it sweetheart?", he chuckled.
Princess Elizabeth did not like being pinched on the cheek, but she did love her uncle's indulgence and praise. "So, it isn't English then? Is it a French name?", she asked. "It is", replied Anne. "Because she was born Jacquetta St. Pol, kin to the the French royal family. The St. Pol family is of the House of Luxembourg". Elizabeth sat quietly for a moment. Anne could almost hear the gears turning swiftly in the mind of her clever daughter. "So…if my great-great grandmother was of the house of Luxembourg, and Mélusine is the founder of that family, I really would be a descendant of hers!". Anne nodded. Elizabeth looked thoughtful and then a grin spread across her face. "Then I am not only the daughter of a King, I am the descendant of a water goddess". "That's right!", said Anne, laughing indulgently. "I would have you know your worth, Princess Elizabeth, for you are far more than ever you thought you were!". Elizabeth squealed delightedly. "Oh! Lady Mother I would so love to be like her and swish about a large bath with a fish tail!".
"Ah, now that has the sound of a lovely masque", said George. "Oh yes!", exclaimed Elizabeth. "It would be such a lovely masque! I should love to learn a dance for a masque like that!". "Then we shall make it so", Anne ruled. Elizabeth gasped. "Can we really, Madam?". "Bien sur", Anne replied warmly. "I shall order it so. On Twelfth Night, we will have a masque and I shall order lovely costumes to be made…". Anne paused for effect. She knew Elizabeth was holding her breath. "…And I will have your dancing tutor teach you the dance that you will do for your part". Elizabeth exhaled heavily and beamed. "Oh, Your Majesty! Thank you! I will be so delighted!". Anne kissed her daughter on both cheeks and stood. Elizabeth and George stood as they must when the Queen stands. "I will take my leave now, Elizabeth. I know that Lady Bryan will want you to have a nap soon". Elizabeth pouted, and Anne gave her a sharp look. Immediately Elizabeth fixed her expression to one of demure blandness. Anne nodded her approval and Elizabeth curtsied low. "I bid you good day then, Lady Mother". "The King and I will see you to bed later", Anne promised. Elizabeth nodded and watched her mother and uncle turn and leave her nursery.
The Christmas festivities at court were elaborate and merry. There was hardly a dull moment throughout the entire Christmastide. Everyone remarked that it was the merriest time they could remember at the English court. The Seymour brothers, Edward and Thomas had silently crept back to court, out to reestablish their places after the shameful execution of their sister, Jane. Anne didn't care. Really, she had no quarrel with them now. They had lost, and she was victorious and unstoppably merry. Anne was sure that even that sour old fox Eustace Chapuys, the Spanish Ambassador, would not say anything against her this season, despite his bias against her. Anne was everywhere, sparkling in her gowns, glowing in her beauty, laughing in her triumph. She even danced with the handsome and charismatic Thomas Seymour in her lighthearted joy. Anne gave Edward Seymour a purse of gold as a gift, and implored him to bring his wife, Anne Stanhope, to court to serve in her household.
Anne was once again, the brightest star at court. She gave out alms, and she gave lavish gifts to her friends and courtiers. She had commanded that she and the King and the Princesses dine as a family at the high table, and honored Mary by seating her at her right hand. Anne smiled innocently at the old Spanish dog Chapuys, knowing that he would have to report her generosity to Mary's cousin and his master, the Emperor. The King denied Anne nothing these days and spared no expense in showering her in extravagant gifts. The court watched bear baitings, ice skated on the frozen river, and even had high spirited snowball fights. The King's fool Will Somers and the Lord of Misrule, kept the court in stitches with their antics and silly games. One of the games was that a piece of mistletoe was stuck under a bench in the dining hall, and whichever Lord happened to be sitting above it had to come and kiss the Princess Mary.
Mary's face went quite red as one of the Neville boys produced the mistletoe, waving it about. He came over to the high table, bowed, and kissed Mary full on the lips. He was quite handsome, and the court exploded in approval. The King roared with laughter at his 20 year old, unmarried daughter. "Sister, you're as red as a beet!", Elizabeth exclaimed. The court broke into laughter again as Mary smiled shyly and looked at her feet. "Mon Dieu", Anne whispered to Henry. "Look at Mary! She is ready for a husband and children of her own. We must find a worthy match for her in the upcoming year". Henry nodded. It was true. Mary was a woman grown, and in the prime of her life. And she was not getting any younger. If she wanted heirs, she would need to be married soon. "We will discuss it in the new year", he agreed. Then he clapped his hands for some music and dancing. Anne danced with Princess Mary, Princess Elizabeth, and her cousin Mary Fitzroy, the Duchess of Richmond. Mary Fitzroy was elegant despite her great weight. She too had been with child, like the old crone had promised. Perhaps she really should have set up shop as a wise woman, Anne thought ironically as the musicians struck up.
The court applauded the four royal ladies and began to join the dance floor. Elizabeth had declared loudly that she would stay up all night, but she never lasted past seven of the clock, and Lady Bryan came to carry her sleeping little charge back to her rooms. The rest of the court danced all night. There were several masques throughout the twelve days of Christmas, including the one Elizabeth had asked for. Anne had played Mélusine, and Elizabeth had played one of her beautiful daughters that returned with her to the fairy fountain. Anne was ravishing in her dress with the skirts divided and bedazzled to appear to be a scaly fish tail. Elizabeth wore a jeweled costume gown of silver and danced her part with spirit and joy and reveled in the praise from the courtiers of how well she danced, and how pretty she was. That night the King, enticed by Anne's alluring costume, whispered to her that he would like to come to her bed later, although he knew he could not. Anne had been churched, but her monthly course was still there after childbirth. He knew he would not be able to come to her bed for a month at the very least. Anne had smiled coyly at him and told him that she was yearning for him as well. God himself knew she was not.