Chapters 1-4 have been edited. The plot is still the same so you don't have to read the whole story again. I just couldn't help myself when I read the story over and noticed how much I repeated myself back then. My writing was kind of awful, and I'm surprised so many of you actually wanted me to continue with this story.

I can only apologize for the long wait. I suck. Seriously.

Whilst she knew that she would be forced to go to court someday, Anne had never expected it to be only months after her divorce. There had been not one word from the King in almost four months, and whilst Anne knew he would have no desire to have any contact with herself, she had thought that Henry would want to know how his daughter was faring. Though he had been disappointed that she had birthed a daughter and not his much desired son, he loved Elizabeth and took great pride in his jewel. No matter what had occurred between them, she had not thought him capable of ignoring his little daughter. There was no need to punish their daughter because of his anger for Anne.

And then out of the nowhere he was summoning them to court. The last time she had seen Henry he had barely looked at her, let alone spoke to her. Why he would want her at court was a complete mystery. Perhaps for Elizabeth's upcoming birthday, but why not just send for her daughter and a party of her attendants? There was no real reason needed for Anne's presence, so she was puzzled as to why he was demanding her presence.

Perhaps he was bored with his new Queen already? The thought made her snort.

She was not worried that she was in any kind of trouble. After her continued public support, Henry wouldn't dare to accuse her of anything again. The only reason he was demanding her presence had to be to make her pay her respects to Jane Seymour. As if she could ever respect that strumpet! In her eyes the woman was no worse than Anne herself. In fact she was worse. Anne never pretended to be anything other than what she was. Whilst she felt some guilt now over what she had done to Katherine, she would never have gone near Henry if the woman had been with child, no matter what her Father threatened her with. Jane Seymour had played a helping hand in causing her miscarriage that killed her son and looked Anne in the eye the next day as though she had done no wrong. What she and Henry did was unforgivable in her eyes. She did not care that the woman was now Queen, Anne would never respect the bitch.

It was also Henry's chance to humiliate her as she had humiliated him by not giving him a son after years of fighting for her. He was showing the whole of England and Europe that his former wife accepted his new wife and would cause no trouble. By acknowledging the woman who had usurped her crown, Anne was declaring herself as nothing more than the Duchess of Pembroke and not the Queen of England. Jane Seymour was the Queen of England, Henry's wife and consort.

She was welcome to him.

Whilst Anne still loved the sweet, passionate man who had loved her so much during their courtship, everything he had done to her, everything he had been prepared to do to her and her daughter destroyed any love she felt for the man he had become. It was partially her fault for encouraging him to take all of the power he had felt was owed to him, and she would have to live with herself for changing the man she loved in order to obtain his divorce. She felt nothing but anger and sadness for the man who now wore her Henry's face.

Now she loved nothing more than a memory.

She had barely a week to prepare for their journey. When she was not busy preparing for their visit, Anne could not help but reading the letter over and over again looking for a hidden meaning. As her maids fussed around her, the words kept repeating in her head. King Henry VIII requests your presence at court. An escort will arrive within the week. With the amount of money Anne now received, her ladies, Elizabeth and herself dressed extravagantly everyday, so there was no need to worry about her clothing. When summoned to court, many families, especially those with daughters, would spend a fortune on dresses for the ladies in hope of catching a gentleman's eye and earning themselves a husband, and to show how wealthy the family was. It was a silent game of who was the best dressed lady at court, but nobody would be better dressed than the Queen.

Anne refused to meet that custom.

Anne Boleyn may not be Queen anymore, but she and her daughter would be dressed as befitting their former stations. While she may be forced to curtsy before the bitch, she would look beautiful doing it.

She was almost tempted to wear purple before her self preservation kicked in.

She did not want her daughter to go. The whole point of her keeping her life was to protect her from the malicious life at court, and her father. Alas, the situation was out of her hands and if it meant keeping her daughter safe, Anne vowed to make nice with Henry and his strumpet.

After many years of practice, Anne managed to remain calm and poised in front of her household. Her escort included ten of the King's own guard. She prayed that it was for no other reason than to protect his beloved daughter. Why else would he send his guards to escort her to Hampton Court?

Yet she managed to keep her head held high as she made the journey, feeling like a prisoner trapped inside of the carriage. She would smile at her daughter despite her nerves.

"The King will be most pleased to see you, Elizabeth," Anne said when she eventually grew tired of Elizabeth's silence. They were rapidly approaching London, and with each passing hour, her daughter grew more and more silent. Elizabeth kept her gaze locked on the scenery outside.

"Yes mama," Elizabeth whispered, not bothering to turn. The little girl twisted her fingers together in her lap.

Anne swallowed tightly. "What is troubling you?"

Elizabeth hesitated, but seemed to gain some confidence as she looked solemnly into her mother's face, her cheeks shining with tears. "Are you going to send me away?"

Anne caught her breath. "Why on this earth would I send you away?"

"I promise to be good Mama," Elizabeth said in a rush which Anne struggled to keep up with. "I promise! I love living with you and I do not want to go back to Lady Bryan and Mary-"

"Stop," Anne commanded. "I am not sending you away, daughter. Calm yourself."

Elizabeth's chest heaved as she gasped for breath. Anne wiped away the tears on her chubby cheeks and said soothingly, "There are many things that you are too young to understand, my daughter. But know that I will never leave you, and you will always have a place to live in my house Elizabeth."

This seemed to calm the child, but she still seemed upset. "Elizabeth," Anne said quietly. "Speak to me, my darling girl."

Elizabeth sniffled. "Are you taking me to live with Papa and his new wife?" she whispered.

Anne sucked in a sharp breath. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest at just the thought of Jane Seymour raising her daughter. "No, my sweet girl." Anne considered her words carefully. "When I stopped being Queen, your Papa promised that you would always live with me," Anne said, hoping that it was simple enough for a child.

Elizabeth frowned and clenched her chubby little fists. "Good. I want to live with you Mama. I hate Papa's wife!" she cried, her voice raising in agitation.

"Elizabeth!" Panic bubbled in her throat as she stared at her daughter in astonishment. In that moment, she could easily see her daughter becoming just like Lady Mary who had despised Anne the moment she had learned her name. And whilst she could feel some pity for the former princess, Anne would never allow her own daughter to be anything like Katherine's daughter. She was determined that Elizabeth would grow up happily, not a twisted, bitter shadow of her former self, determined to take back her birthright.

"You cannot talk about the Queen like that. You are young, but-"

"You should be Queen! You should be Papa's wife!"

"Enough," Anne snapped. Elizabeth flinched away from her, but still looked her in the eye with determination. She is so much like Henry, she thought. Too stubborn for her own good.

Making an effort to soften her voice, Anne said, "This is the last time we shall speak of this. I loved your Father. I loved him with my whole heart, but I am not his wife, and nor will I be again. I am the Duchess of Pembroke, not the Queen of England. I have told you that you do not have to like Jane Seymour, but you have to respect her."

"But Mama-"

"No!" Anne said, gripping her daughter's hand in panic. "We are going to a dangerous place Elizabeth. You are a child, but you are my child, and that will always be your burden to bare. I maybe the most hated woman in court, and everyone will be watching, hoping to see me fall. You must respect the King and the Queen, no matter what you feel, my sweet girl. Do not let anybody see your weakness, because they will use it against you.

"You are not to go anywhere without Lady Katherine or myself. You are not to talk to anybody, only those from my household. Do you understand Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth stared at her solemnly. "Yes Mama." She paused and looked at her with serious eyes. "Do you respect her Mama?"

Anne hesitated. She would never be able to respect Jane Seymour. Respect is earned. Katherine of Aragon earned Anne's respect as she stubbornly, and stupidly, fought for her title and her marriage. Jane Seymour was little more than a simpering fool in her mind, and no act will ever be able to change her.

She considered lying. After all, lying was something she was most skilled at. But as she looked into her daughter's grave eyes, a look that did not belong on a child so young, she promised herself that she would not hide the truth from her.

"No," Anne finally replied, her voice almost sad. "I can never respect a woman like Jane Seymour."

They arrived late at night, for which she was glad. There were no crowds to greet her, only her brother. Anne regarded him impassively as he approached, carefully shifting the sleeping Elizabeth in her arms. Music from the night's festivities could be heard from a distance, and the young girl that still lived inside of Anne craved to join in with the dancing and the feasts.

To hell with the fact that she would not be welcomed.

Alas, she nodded to George as he stopped in front of her. Gone was the carefree boy she had spent her youth with, but in his place was a hardened man who did not look particularly pleased to see her. A part of her heart ached because of the distance between them. Her brother had been her friend, her confidant in their youth, and to see him look at her as though a stranger broke her heart.

Then she remembered the man who did nothing to stop their father when she pushed him to the King. He stole her letters, told their father every whispered word they once shared. And when the she was just about to fall, all he was concerned about was his lands and titles. He had no care that Anne's heart was breaking, that she had lost another child.

He had no care that the King was going to destroy every Boleyn in his path.

All he cared for was himself.

She may have loved her brother once, and maybe a part of her still holds him in her affections, but she would never forget his actions.

"Anne," her brother greeted stiffly. Around them her servants were unloading her belongings, but they did not dare to look at the siblings.

"Brother. I trust that you are well?"

"I am in good spirits. I am to become a father," he replied, his cheeks growing pink under her scrutiny.

Anne sucked in a sharp breath.

Jealousy and rage burned through her veins. Her grip tightened on Elizabeth as she felt a tightness behind her eyes.

She was not a fool, nor was she deaf. Anne had heard the rumors which were whispered behind her back about her brother. Though she did not acknowledge them, she did not disbelieve them either. What George did to his immortal soul was his own business, but if he was ever found out, then there would be nothing she could do to save him.

How did her brother, who could not stand to be in the same room as his wife, manage to actually conceive a child with that cold fish of a woman?

Why was George being rewarded with a babe when she was not?

But she pushed her jealousy aside and rewarded George with a small but true smile. "That is good to hear, George. I am sure that Jane must be thrilled," she said politely.

George smiled tentatively. He offered to take Elizabeth but she declined. "Tell me, brother," she said as he walked her to her quarters. "Why have I been summoned to court?"

"I suspect for Elizabeth's birthday-"

Anne scoffed. "The King has not sent any messages to her in months. Why would he bother now?"

"Perhaps he misses her." George hesitated. "Or perhaps he misses you," he said quietly.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Do not be ridiculous. He cannot stand me." Anne fell silent as they passed a group of ladies who were giggling and talking in hushed whispers. They fell silent as they noticed her presence and quickly dropped into curtsies and murmuring, "Your Grace."

She did not acknowledge them, or the whispers that followed as they rounded the corner.

"There is talk that the King is not too happy with his new wife. She has not yet conceived," George said. Anne looked at him with suspicious eyes.

"Give the woman a chance. They have been married four months, George," Anne replied fairly, barely concealing the vindictive smile on her face. "What the King does is of no concern of mine, brother."

"Some say that there is talk that he regrets casting you aside." Anne's heart pounded in her chest. "He has mistresses already. All of them brown haired and blue eyed-"

"Stop it George," she whispered.

"We have a chance here, Anne," he continued, his voice suddenly passionate. "We can start over again, but this time we can win. Everything can go back to the way it was. We will have power again. Do not tell me that you do not miss is Anne, the power you had over everyone." George took her hand in his and smiled. "My ambitious sister."

Despite herself, she felt swayed by his words. She did miss it. Having the authority over her subjects, being waited upon hand and foot, being the most powerful woman in England.

She missed the game.

But then she remembered the pain, the loneliness. The fact that she was all but a stranger to her own daughter.

She remembered her babies that did not get a chance at life because of her families ambitions.

"I will never be Queen again, George," Anne said gently. They had stopped outside of her quarters. "Nor do I wish to."

"You do not have to be his Queen. Just his mistress."

"No."

"You made him fall in love with you once. You can easily do it again-"

"I said no!" she hissed. Elizabeth stirred in her arms, but after running a soothing hand through her soft hair she fell back to sleep. "I am done with your games. You think that by whispering words that you think I desire to hear will make me do your bidding? I will not go back to the King's bed, especially not to further this family."

George stared at her with accusation in his eyes. "And if Father demands it?"

Anne swallowed tightly. "I am a Duchess, dear brother. I own more land than the entire Boleyn family put together. I have more power than Father can ever hope to gain. I have no need of Father. Or of you." Anne opened the door but paused when she heard her brother's voice.

"If only you had not fallen in love with him. Perhaps we would still be in favor, and you would still be Queen."

Anne did not bother to reply. She hoped that slamming the door in his face was answer enough.

The quarters they were given were only slightly smaller than the Queen's. They were furnished lavishly, all in the French style. Despite many offers to take Elizabeth to her own quarters, Anne could not bare to part with the child. Her daughters nursery was only a little ways down the hall, and despite cursing her foolishness, Anne teared up at the thought of not sharing her living space with the girl.

Alas, when morning came, Anne summoned her daughter's maids and sent a sleepy Elizabeth to get herself ready for her lessons. Anne distracted herself with the final plans for the monasteries she was converting into schools. Within a few more months, her schools would be up and running. Whilst she could not help many, she found joy in the fact that she could help a few boys gain a decent education.

"Your Grace," Nan called, disrupting her thoughts. "The Duke of Norfolk wishes to see you."

Anne frowned. Her uncle paying a visit was not something she could have predicted. Although he had pushed for her to become Queen, Norfolk had not wanted much to do with Anne when she had fallen from grace. Even when she was Queen, he barely spoke to her other than formalities.

But then she remembered her conversation with George last night.

Anne rolled her eyes. Would the men in her family ever learn from their mistakes?

"Uncle," Anne greeted. Norfolk's cold eyes stared at her solemnly. Anne suppressed a shiver. His cold, calculating eyes evaluated her.

"It is good to see you at court again, Anne," he said in his quiet voice. "Will you join me for a walk? You and I have much to discuss."

Despite wanting nothing more than to hide in her rooms, Anne agreed with a slight hesitation. She reminded herself to speak with caution, for the Duke of Norfolk would be a dangerous enemy to have.

Anne took the arm that was offered to her and matched her pace to his slow one. For a long while, they were quiet as they roamed the halls of Hampton court. Many stopped to stare at the former Queen as they walked past, quickly dropping into shallow curtsies as Norfolk's cold gaze landed on them.

He did not speak until they were alone, nor did he look at her as he spoke. "After your fall from favor, it has taken me months to gain the respect I once had."

Anne did not reply.

"I have only just began to gain favor with the King once again. Your father has approached me with his plans for you and the King-"

"I will not be pushed into his bed once again. Do not think to command me Uncle! I may not be Queen anymore, but none of you are in any position to challenge me," Anne snapped.

Norfolk turned to her then, his icy gaze studying her with a hint of respect. "Good. I told your father to put a stop to his plans." Anne looked at him in surprise. "You are a beautiful woman, Anne. I have no doubt that you would be able to charm your way into the King's affections once again if you tried. Alas, the King is a volatile man, and one cannot predict his actions.

"I took a chance on making you Queen, and whilst it served me well at the time, I have no desire to take that risk once again. Do not go down that road again, niece. You will never become Queen, and you are far too proud to be a mistress."

Anne hid her delight. "I am here because the King commanded it. I am not here for anything else, Uncle," she replied placidly.

Norfolk smiled coldly. "Then we will not have a problem. Come, I will escort you to your rooms." They walked in silence. It was with much effort that Anne hid her smile. She was not foolish enough to trust her uncle, but it was advantageous to know that he did not support her father.

They were approaching a crowded hallway when it happened.

"His Majesty the King," a herald announced.

Norfolk's hand tightened on her arm.

Anne froze.

Henry strode through the room without paying any attention to his subjects who dropped into bows and curtsies. His mouth was set in a firm line that he frequented often around her.

Remembering herself, Anne gracefully dropped into a curtsy and dropped her eyes to the floor.

She prayed that he would not notice her, or if he did then he would not acknowledge her.

Alas, her prayers were for naught.

He stopped in front of her and sucked in a sharp breath. She could feel every eye on her, burning holes into her vulnerable body. They were eager to see how their King would greet his former wife.

She could imagine the gossip that would be surrounding her already.

"You may rise, my lady."

Willing herself to remain calm, Anne stood on steady legs. Anne's breath caught in her throat as she found herself looking into the eyes of her former husband. She thought she would have had time before she had to confront him. She was not prepared for this. Her uncle's presence and every single curious courtier ceased to exist in that moment.

She could not take her eyes off of him.

Every moment between them seemed to sweep through her mind, from the moment she had been put in his path to the moment she agreed to end their marriage.

Every touch, every declaration of love haunted her.

She could easily look at this man, who had once brought her equal pain and joy, and let him into her heart once again. It would be so easy to let herself love him, for the King was truly easy to love when he looked at you as if you are his entire world.

She could claim that she no longer loved this man, but she was not sure that a passion such as the one they shared could just disappear.

But as she stared into Henry's eyes, Anne could not let herself do it. For every happy memory she had, she had a painful memory to match it. And for a woman like Anne who felt more passionately, more deeply than any other, she vowed to always guard her heart before this man.

Anne was an intelligent woman. But most of all she was a woman who learned from her mistakes.

And so, with a hardened heart, Anne looked the King in the eyes. "Your Majesty," she greeted softly.