Shortly after the celebrations of the new year and the lavish gift giving on Twelfth Night, Anne and Henry had to say goodbye to their little Princess, as she was set to return to her nursery at Hatfield Palace. "Sir, Madam, may I come back to court for Easter?", Elizabeth asked her parents. "Lady Princess! Their Majesties will send word to us at Hatfield when you are to be invited to court next", reproved Lady Bryan. "You should not presume to ask!". Henry laughed. "It is alright, Lady Bryan". He picked Elizabeth up and twirled her around. "Of course you are welcome at court for Easter, Bessie! The Queen and I will be happy to receive you". "I would be so pleased, Sir!", exclaimed Elizabeth giggling. Anne smiled on the two of them as Henry sat the little Princess down. "That means we will have to order new gowns, doesn't it Lady Bryan? Because I will be at court for Easter!". Lady Bryan laughed at her vain little charge. "If it please their Majesties, Lady Princess". "Of course", said Anne. "I will send the best dressmaker in London to you. How should you like to match with me, Elizabeth?". Elizabeth beamed. "That would be wonderful, Lady Mother!". She curtsied low to both of her parents. The court had assembled to see her off, and her litter had just been brought around from the stables. "Farewell, Sir, Madam. I look forward to when I shall see you again! I pray God keeps Your Majesties in his protection". The courtiers bowed and curtsied low to her, and she and Lady Bryan got into the litter and were off.
A few days later, Princess Mary was departing to her residence at Kings Langley in Hertfordshire. Just as with her younger sister, the court and the King and Queen had come to see her off. Mary was overflowing with a strange mix of emotions. On the one hand, Anne had been the ruination of her life. It was she who had solidified the rift between her parents, had tormented her sainted mother, and had stolen her father the King's love away from his legitimate wife and legitimate daughter. She had treated Mary with cruelty, and had influenced the King to treat her coldly, and had forced her to wait upon her bastard sister Elizabeth. On the other hand, her mother was gone now, God bless her, so there was no impediment to Anne's union with the King…although it had to be said that many a good Catholic considered the King to be a single man since he and Anne Boleyn were not truly married by the laws of the Church. Still, now that there was a Prince, who would really complain? Of course, it was not possible that the lack of male heirs in her parents' marriage was a result of God's displeasure in the union. It was just unfortunate, nothing more. It did ring strange to her that Anne Boleyn, a commoner (for all of her father being made an Earl and she herself being made a Marquis), should bear a son for England, when her own mother, a true Princess of the blood could not.
And now, Queen Anne- Mary surprised herself at calling Anne Boleyn as such in her own private thoughts- Queen Anne, had restored her. She convinced the King to restore her title of Princess, and it was she who spoke to the King of finding a match for her. Mary had long wanted to be married and have a family of her own. Girls far younger than her were already proper wives and mothers. The seven years when her father had been openly courting Anne, and Mary's subsequent bastardization upon the dissolution of her parents' marriage made her marriage prospects quite limited. No one knew whether she was a useless bastard or a pedigreed Princess, and so no King or great Duke with any sense would have her for himself or his son. But now, Queen Anne had restored her to her rightful place and her marriage prospects were bright once again. And Queen Anne had treated her so kindly during Christmas and had given her a wonderful gift of a beautiful white mare with a saddle made of red Spanish leather and encrusted with jewels. Anne had also helped Elizabeth to stitch a beautiful chemise of white on white silk embroidery, which Elizabeth gave as her present. Anne had kept her by her side for the whole of Christmas and had danced with her and laughed with her. Queen Anne had even brushed Mary's hair herself before the feast of Twelfth Night and lent her the Queen's own jewels to wear and claimed "they would so become" her in the gown she was wearing.
It was so strange! Mary knew Anne Boleyn to be an upstart, and a whore, and almost certainly a heretic, but she had formed the beginnings of a sort of affection for her. Try as she might, she could no longer think of her as a witch who had enchanted her father with evil spells. Being in close companionship with her for all of December, she had begun to see what the King loved about her, and knew it was not a work of dark sorcery. Mary had always thought it had been her flirtatious nature, her fashionable dress, and her innate sensuality- in short, the things any man liked in a mistress or a whore. She was also gifted at the courtly skills of dancing and singing and hunting. But now, Mary could see that Queen Anne had not only a sharp wit, she had a keen intelligence and love of learning. She was charitable, she had a love of scripture...even if her views were quite wrong. To see her with Elizabeth was to see her at her tenderest and most endearing. She was funny, and she was challenging. Mary had never thought the latter was a becoming quality in a woman, but she understood now why her father allowed Anne to challenge him. No one else would be as truthful with him. Her challenges made him second guess himself, and he had intimated to her that it made him a better King. In faith, she knew her mother, Queen Katherine had not been like that. She had never opposed him or challenged him outright. She would work behind the scenes to influence his opinions. Most would see that as simply discreet or humble, but it seemed that her father felt it was a sort of manipulation, unlike Queen Anne's frank, on the spot comments or reprimands.
In one of the Christmas masques, Anne had played Abigail, the biblical woman who was sensible when her husband was not, and had been the heroine in her story. King Henry had ordered this masque as a compliment to his Queen, saying that he often thought of Anne as his Abigail, urging him to reason. Mary felt a pain of betrayal in her stomach, knowing her mother in heaven must surely disapprove her new found liking of Anne Boleyn, God forgive her! Or perhaps her mother would want her to forgive as the Christian faith demanded. Either way, her deferential curtsey to Queen Anne, the kiss she planted on both of her cheeks in farewell, and her "God bless Your Grace", had all been surprisingly genuine. Queen Anne and her father bid her come back to court for Easter, and Mary was wholeheartedly looking forward to her return. Anne had taken her hands and made her promise to write, and her father said he would write to her as well. King Henry kissed her forehead tenderly and blessed her. The court bowed low to her, and Mary felt gratified that she no longer warranted the shallow bow due to a King's bastard, but the full honor due a Princess of the blood. With a short wave, she was in her litter and motioned for the rider to take off.
In mid-January King Henry held the formal ceremony for creating Thomas Boleyn, Anne's father, as Duke of Wiltshire. It also created her brother-in-law William Stafford as Baron Hunsdon as he had decided to call himself, due to the fact that he was gifted with the royal residence of Hunsdon as part of his new estate. Anne was delighted that her sister would be a Baroness. She had written to her asking after her health and extending her congratulations, as Mary had removed to Rochford Hall for her lying in. Mary had written back saying that she was well, that the midwives assured her the baby was still growing strong- for certainly the babe was kicking her within an inch of her life, and reproved Anne's familiar greeting that simply referred to her as "Mary" rather than "My Lady Hunsdon". The reprimand had made Anne giggle. About a month and a half later, Baron Hunsdon had written to Anne and Henry to inform them that Mary had been delivered of a beautiful healthy girl. In the PostScript, Mary had scrawled "Just like our Lady Mother; a girl, a boy, and then another girl. I hope my daughter will be as fortunate as our mother's youngest daughter, for she is named for her". It warmed Anne's heart that her little niece would be named Anne like herself. Baron Hunsdon had also asked for Anne to be her godmother and she had readily accepted.
Even throughout the muted season of Lent, the court was still merry. There were superb dishes of fish and vegetables being served while preachers gave stimulating sermons during dinner, as music and dancing was banned during Lent. Anne, emboldened again as Henry's one and only supreme love, chastised him to curb his appetite for both his own health and observance of the holy season. Henry, still grateful to her for giving him a son and head over heels in love with her, acquiesced to her admonition. Indeed, he knew she was right. His girth had expanded even more as of late, and his leg prevented him from being as active as he would like. And anyway, he could not do the activities he enjoyed during Lent, even if his leg was not giving him trouble. Anne had also taken a more active role in the reformation of the Church. Now that she had safely delivered her son, she was back to arguing with Thomas Cromwell.
"Lord Privy Seal, I tell you, you are out of order Sir!", she exclaimed at him as he and the King returned to Henry's privy chamber after a Privy Council meeting. Anne had, with the King's approval, been sitting within earshot in his apartments. "You are the very cause of all of the unrest in the country!". Cromwell tried to hide the ironic look on his face, that the woman who had been the very catalyst for the annulment of the King's first marriage and of England's break from Rome, should call him the cause of unrest. "I assure Your Majesty that everything I am doing is to the glory of God and the King". "On the contrary, my Lord, everything you are doing is to the glory of your privy purse!", Anne countered hotly. She turned to Henry. "Your Majesty, no subject of yours wishes for reform in the Church more than I, yet it must be done correctly! I cannot see how the Lord Privy Seal is seeking to evict the monks and nuns- who offer succor and aid to the poor and sick- from the abbeys and monasteries. They are doing their holy duty! What cause can there be for this but selfish gain?". "They are teaching Popish nonsense, Your Grace", replied Thomas Cromwell, trying to keep his temper in check before his Queen. "And so they must be re-educated", said Anne reasonably. "But they are not tricking people into paying ridiculous sums to have masses sung for souls in the imaginary Purgatory. They are not offering views of 'holy shrouds' and pieces of the 'true cross' for money, as corrupt clergy do. You seek to dissolve holy houses that do right by the people, and that is a disservice to them and to the King!". "Your Grace, with respect, this is entirely a right and good service I do for England and the King", Cromwell retorted. "Enough!", Henry boomed. "I tire of your constant bickering!".
"I am sorry to have disturbed Your Majesty", Cromwell apologized immediately. "I merely wished to assure the Queen that my intentions are noble". "Respectfully, I care not for your intentions, Sir", said Anne coolly. "I care for the results. We cannot have good monks turned away from their monasteries for them to be sacked, and godly nuns turned out from their abbeys in their petticoats, just so it may be given to some Lord or another". She turned to the King. "Your Majesty, you are the God appointed spiritual leader for this country. I know I need not worry that you will do your duty to God and England, as you have always done". Henry nodded. "I will", he agreed, relieved she would persist no more. But perhaps she was right. The reformation of the Church was a serious, godly undertaking. It would be blasphemy of the highest degree to allow it to be based on greed. "See that you send a report of the offenses of the institution to the Privy Council for examination", Henry ruled. "They will have to find that there has been gross misconduct, heresy, and extortion in order to be dissolved". Anne beamed. "You are very good, Sire! Very good!". Henry warmed at the praise from his wife.
Towards the end of March, Anne and Henry began privately discussing plans for possible betrothals for Princess Mary. "What of Charles, Duke of Orleans?", asked Anne, citing the match they had once had in mind for her sister. "He will be but one step from the French throne since the unfortunate death of Prince Francois last summer. And they are not so far apart in age, either. They must be what? Four or five years apart?". "Six, I think", said Henry. "But it may be more advantageous for us to secure an alliance with Spain". It went without mentioning that relations with Spain had been severely damaged by the annulment of his marriage to the Spanish Princess, Mary's mother. Even after her death and Mary's reinstatement, they were strained at best. "Were you thinking of the Emperor again?", Anne asked. "I had heard his wife Empress Isabella has been dreadfully sick, poor soul. They do not expect her to see her 40th year", she mused aloud. Mary had once been betrothed to marry her cousin, despite him being 16 years her senior. Henry shook his head. "I was thinking of his son, Prince Philip". Anne sat thoughtfully, absentmindedly tracing circles on the desk in front of her. "Well, I cannot think how we can allow her to go to Spain in any case", she said finally.
"Spain is fervently Catholic, and they are continuing with the Inquisition began by Mary's own grandmother. Surely, if we ally with Spain they will expect English aid in this most dreadful enterprise. It will seem like double dealing to Englishmen, if we root out Popish heresy in England, but assist in the burning of Protestants in Spain". Henry nodded in concession of the point. "You may be right", said the King, pulling at his beard. "But we should strive to rekindle a friendship with Spain". "She could be married to one of the Hapsburgs", Anne suggested. "Or perhaps the Archduke Maximillian. He is the nephew of the Emperor". Henry raised an eyebrow at her. "Nan, he is but a child of 9 if he is a day!". Anne shrugged. "He is 10 I believe, actually. You want so badly for a link to the Spanish, but there is hardly one that could be to her liking and fit our needs". She paused. "We could have her promised to one of the Protestant Lords. The Duke of Lorraine's son, Francis the Duke of Bar would be a fine match. I think they are of an age". Henry thought about it for a moment. "If we are allied with the League of Protestant Lords, I suppose it could put a little fear into the hearts of the Spanish".
Anne nodded. "The issue there is that Mary is a devout Catholic. She will be unhappy if she is forced to adhere to reformist practices. There would have to be a stipulation in the marriage contract that says she must be allowed to practice her faith, even if it must be in private". "It matters more that the alliance would serve us", Henry ruled. "Mary is a Princess. She knows her duty is to marry where she is bid for the good of her country". Anne bowed her head. "Well, in any case, we need not commit to anything just yet. Shall you send an envoy to the Duke of Lorraine to inquire about a match between Mary and his son?". Henry nodded. "I will speak on it in the next council meeting. Shall I send your father the Duke of Wiltshire for this diplomatic mission?", he asked enticingly. Anne laughed and shook her head. "Nay my Lord. Pray you, send someone else. He is just getting around to organizing the affairs of his new estates". And, I do not want Mary to think it is me and mine sending her to the heartland of Protestantism, she thought.