Author's Note: Hiii, I'm back with a belated update on this story too! Only five years later. I hope you all enjoyed and still have interest in this. I wrote the back half of this fast and only did a quick edit, so I apologize in advance for any errors, hopefully none are grievous or distracting. Also, I changed the birthdate of the Infanta Catherine of Castile to 1509, in case anybody was paying too much attention.
As a reminder, I do not own these characters. History and Showtime do.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy.
Chapter II:
Render Unto Caesar All That Which Is Caesar's
Whitehall Palace
August 12, 1531
"He has the look of his grandfather," Katherine of Aragon remarked, looking down at the gold cradle holding her newest nephew. His birth would not be announced, and his name would not be added to the prayer list, like her three sons had been, but it was a source of joy to the Tudor family nonetheless, despite the fact that Anne Boleyn's children were quite a scandal. A healthy child was always a blessing, and she was grateful that although Anne had miscarried a year previous that their next child was healthy. Katherine remembered her own miscarriage with a shudder, and said a silent prayer and crossed herself. Anne smiled at her and touched her arm, grateful for the sentiment.
"We decided George, for my brother and the saint," Anne remarked after a comfortable silence had passed. She frowned briefly, remembering the last conversation she had with Henry before he was gone on a vassal to Rome, some months ago, when her stomach was barely swollen. It was the first pregnancy she had spent alone, and was so grateful to the Queen and Dowager for their support. It was so difficult that he could not communicate through letters, although she still received messages through his spy network in Rome.
His election as Pope took longer than anybody had predicted in England and although Henry had warned Anne that it would be a longer process than the King and Queen anticipated, she could not help but feel relief when her confinement was brightened considerably by the news of his election. It was her only solace during a lonely pregnancy.
She had given birth at Hever, instead of York Palace like she had in the past, and traveled back to court as soon as she was churched so she could introduce George to the King and Queen, as she had with Elizabeth and little Arthur. It would be some time before she was able to travel to Rome, because the Pope could not be seen to have a mistress and children despite the previous holders of his office, and in the meantime she was comforted by the knowledge that King Arthur was drawing up patents of nobility for her, to make her the Countess of Pembroke in her own right. Once she had regained most of her strength, there would be a ceremony for her to formally invest her with her title.
It was not an easy path for her in England, for the Tudor family to accept her, but she knew her considerable charm and Henry's immense love for her and continued affection for her gave her status at the English court that would not be replicated well in the Vatican. Being a titled woman with lands and income of her own would be immensely helpful if she wanted to establish herself in Rome. Her relationship with Henry would be changed, but she knew that he had already built several villas in Rome, and she had already selected her favorite the last time they had went with Elizabeth for her to reside in with their children. He would come when he could, but his papal residence would be his official home.
She had always felt like his wife, because of the way that the English court treated her, despite the snickers and battles she still fought from time to time. Now, she knew that she would feel like a whore, especially because he could no longer live with her.
She loathed leaving England, but she missed him so much. Elizabeth asked after him daily, and although little Arthur was only three; he gave his nursemaids a hard time when his papa did not visit often. She was always faithful to Henry, even though there had been a few men who had asked for her hand when it was discovered that she was in such high favor with the royal family. She had always fingered her red faux- cardinal's ring when they asked, and laughed slightly. They wanted her money, and they would get it if she married them. Even if she was the infamous whore of Cardinal Tudor, she was a wealthy one, all because her cleric husband was well loved within his family.
When she was introduced to King Arthur as a special friend of his brother, shortly after Elizabeth was born, the King had not reacted the way that most would. He was kind, almost to a fault, having remembered her from when she fell in that pond and he rescued her years ago. He complimented Henry for his choice in beautiful women, and promised that he would do everything in his power to secure the joy of their growing family.
"You are not married, Mistress Boleyn?" King Arthur asked, his curious eyes studying her.
She wondered what he thought of her but wouldn't dare ask him. She knew, as all of the girls did in Queen Katherine's household that King Arthur would not take a mistress, and his wife was his only love. Anne remembered when her father tried to convince Mary to replicate her success in France with Arthur, only to find him cold to her advances. She had always admired the King, but resented him for what he had done to his brother, but she remembered herself that he was a faithful man, although the words of her uncle rang in her head.
He told her that any man, even the King, would take her into bed. She was still weary of her position as Henry's mistress and was not willing to risk it, even for the King of England.
"No, your majesty. My father never found me a suitable match," Anne lied. It was true, he had not found her a legal husband but he had pushed her into the arms of Henry, a place she felt comfortable but still outcasted from the court. "And then I fell in love with his eminence. It was not what I had planned, but I do not regret it."
"It is best, then, that I give you some lands. Elizabeth is my niece, and if it were not in my father's plan, you would be my sister by law. And so, I intend to take care of you. Henry's vocation was not his choice," King Arthur stated, knowing that he owed his brother that much. His father had told him to put Henry in the Church to prevent civil war, and that's what he had done. Perhaps Henry would not have challenged his William, but he could not take that risk, not after learning the history of his mother's family.
His father wanted to change that, and so he did. Anne seemed like a lovely girl, and he could tell their daughter Elizabeth would be a worthy gem to their house. If Henry did become Pope, she would marry well and increase the standing of the Tudors. But Henry's children were not going to be monarchs of England, and he had ensured that by putting him in the Church and dooming his children to bastardy and Anne to being a concubine. The least he could do was to give them land.
"We have my house in York, brother, and York palace here in London," Henry stated, feeling defensive. He could provide for his own family well enough!
"Those are clerical lands. These are royal lands, and they are Anne's alone, and they will be inherited by any of her children, no matter their father. It will protect her in this country at least, and I would rest easier knowing that she is well provided for."
Henry sighed but argued no more. Anne knew she would have nothing to fear from the King.
And, as it turned out, none of the other Tudors either. The first time Queen Katherine paid a visit to meet little Elizabeth, her easy way with Anne's little daughter made her feel more comfortable in her new motherhood role. Katherine had insisted they address each other by their Christian names, and expressed regret that Anne was in this position. Henry had often spoken highly of the Queen, and Anne could see why immediately. Katherine loved her family, without reserve.
Anne had come from a ruthless stock, especially where her father and uncle were concerned. To see that the royal family accepted her so openly, even though she was nothing more than a mistress to one of its members, made her feel cold towards her blood family. She loved her brother and sister more than anything, but she did not often entertain her father or uncle's concerns once Katherine, Queen Elizabeth, and King Arthur became her champions. They could do nothing to her as long as she was a landed woman, and soon she would become a titled one. Her father had not yet been made an Earl, and was kept only as Viscount Rochford, which he was ennobled shortly after she was placed in the way of Henry, most likely at his request, and Anne would not speak on his behalf.
Although he was kind to her as a child, and although it would help her own standing, she would never forgive him for the way he reacted when Elizabeth was born.
"A girl?! A worthless girl. What good is a girl to the Cardinal? To us?"
"She is worth more than you, papa. And if you hadn't forgotten, it was your girl who made a fortunate for this family."
"I am not yet an Earl."
"And nor shall you be. You will regret your choice of words for the rest of your life, when your granddaughter is an Italian duchess and you are still a Viscount."
Shortly after that, she requested George be made an Earl, and King Arthur conceded to her request, and gave him a generous amount of stewardships and a position on his Privy Council. Her father often wrote and visited her, and was kinder, but she knew the truth about him and would not advocate for him. If he wanted to become prominent at court, he would need to use his own skills. Perhaps one day she would petition the King on behalf of her father, but she would not do it while she was in England and constantly reminded that he was disappointed in her for the sex of her first child.
She would never hate her own father, especially because she was begrudgingly grateful for putting her in the way of the man who was the love of her life. But she would not give him a position at court if he could not be grateful for what she had given him. Even Henry was thrilled at the birth of their daughter, and he was the only one Anne would have been willing to forgive for feeling disappointment. But Henry could see enough sense, and knew that while a son could lead his armies, girls could also make marriages.
As Elizabeth got older, she became more and more beautiful. Anne knew that life could be difficult for a beautiful girl as well, but she knew her daughter had nothing to fear in the way of being turned down for marriages because her beauty was substandard. Unlike many of the other young women on the European noble marriage market, Elizabeth was not an heiress, but with her father as Pope, Anne knew that she would marry well and do wonders for their family.
Though every time she heard her daughter speak, she marveled at how intelligent she was. Though her son Arthur was a well-spoken and bright child at the age of three, Elizabeth had been a lady the moment she could toddle and was gravely aware of her family's position at English court. Anne knew that while her daughter would inevitably be hurt as they were thrust into the Roman political system, so unlike their own, that she would survive and not need to be shielded like Anne would have to do with her two little sons. Anne hated that her brightest child would be put before prospective alliances like a lamb before slaughter, but she knew her daughter inherited the toughness of both of her parents, and would be fine.
It was Arthur and baby George she worried about, as she stared down at his cradle. They would be to Rome as soon as he was old enough to travel and soon as Henry thought it was safe for them to join him, and she would leave a trail of scandal behind them. Though so much of Rome was different than London, she was aware of how rumors could be spread, and the Vatican was a hotbed of vice and corruption, eager for a new story. While Henry was not different from many of his predecessors in that he had a family and a mistress who was his unofficial wife, it was scant comfort in her new position. Her two sons would grow up in a court not with their aunts and uncles, who could protect them from the worst of it- but with cardinals and Old Italian families using any mean's necessary to protect and advance their kin, and would surely resent her sons as relatives of the English royal family.
One of Anne's favorite books was Machiavelli's political treatise, The Prince. A native of Florence himself, Machiavelli clearly understood the nature of political power, but reading it give her an insight into the Italian mind as well. She knew Henry had read the book, and now that he was the leader of Christendom, he would need to apply its lessons, to make himself both feared and loved, but her two little boys were a different story. Perhaps they would not be as ruthless and ambitious as her family and Henry's were. Perhaps they would be gentler, like her sister Mary, or like Henry's sister Mary as well. Though Princess Mary was now the Holy Roman Empress, she would have been happier as the wife of a plain English gentleman. She could not imagine Elizabeth backing down from expressing her royal status but that did not mean that her male siblings would emulate her.
Just because her sons were going to grow up to men, and sons of the Pope of Rome, did not mean that they would be warriors, like Caesare Borgia had been, so they would not be the ideal princes of Machiavelli's Italy. She could already tell Arthur was quiet and reserved, and perhaps too cheerful to ever be grave or serious enough to lead papal armies, or even be a successful member of the clergy like his father. She wanted so badly for her children to be happy, and she feared that Rome would not be the place to make them happy.
Henry was likely to have a long tenure as Pope, and it would be some time, if ever, they returned to England. She would be the Countess of Pembroke, she would be rich, and she could always return to England with her children if things soured between her and Henry, or if they felt unsafe in Rome. But that is where their fortunes would be made, regardless of their feelings about it.
Unlike Queen Katherine, she was not entitled to a household as a royal wife, but Arthur had given her a generous pension, and, with along with her lands in Pembroke and the income from her title, she had high enough standing to hire a few attendants, as well as a respectably sized nursery for her children. Positions in her household at Court were not highly sought after, especially considering that she was still officially a lady-in-waiting to the Queen, but her cousin Madge and her lady Nan, who was her first servant, had agreed to accompany her to Rome. She was immensely grateful to them, knowing that they were giving up their homes for an unsecure position.
In the comfort of Katherine's sitting room, she smiled as Elizabeth played with Princess Isabella, the only remaining princess at court. Princess Mary, the eldest, was the Dauphine of France, and Princess Katherine had sent to marry her cousin, King James V of Scotland, and was now the Queen of Scotland. Prince William lived at Ludlow Castle in the Welsh Marches, whereas the Princes John and Edward, the Dukes of York and Somerset respectively, resided at Court with their parents. They often spent time with their father, in order to ensure that they would be the best advisors possible for their brother when the time came for him to become King.
She was relieved that Katherine had convinced her husband that the best place for the boys was not the Church, despite the precedent that the old King Henry had set. John and Edward were kind boys and were charming additions to the Court, while the Prince of Wales spent his time at Ludlow. The Prince of Wales had married one of the Queen's nieces, another Infanta Catherine, who was also her namesake. She was only two years older than William and the Queen had been bursting at excitement at their wedding, and was anxious that no issue had been born to them yet.
Anne was not permitted to attend the wedding, as she was heavy with child and was considered a scandal to the foreign delegates that were there. Henry had told her it was a dull affair afterwards, even though he had presided over it, as the new Princess of Wales did not speak English and could not dance. Henry had remarked that his nephew seemed disenchanted with his bride, but did not wish to upset his parents.
Anne wondered often if the King and Queen were an anomaly, and were perhaps the only two people who had no choice about marrying each other who would not have chosen differently had they had the option. She knew that the King took delight in his wife's beautiful household, but did not say or do anything that suggested that he was not completely devoted to his wife.
Katherine's voice took her out of her thoughts, "When are you to go to the Vatican?"
"Henry has not written since his election. I know he does not want it to seem improper, and I want George to grow a bit older before we all travel. I will not have us separated, either." She would not say so to the Queen, but the King had ensured her that she could stay in her household as long as she needed, and she would be no burden to her family with her title. She was so grateful to the King for his kindness towards her, even if she wished that he had never sent Henry to the Church and had never forced them to live in sin, and forced their children to live forever with the taint of bastardary.
"And Master FitzTudor?" Katherine inquired, knowing it was a delicate subject. Henry had provided well for his eldest child, but did not invite him to live with Anne and his other children. She did not think Anne would care so much, but Henry had proceeded very carefully. The boy had only been at court a few times, and seemed to barely know his half-siblings.
"Henry has not said, but I have told Hal that he is welcome to come with us when we are summoned. He is Henry's son, and we should be together," Anne expressed, her thoughts mirroring Katherine's. She did not know Hal very well, but she did not think that he should be separated from his father—but if he did not wish to leave his mother and his mother's family, she could understand that as well.
"That is wise, I think. And you have not changed your mind, you will not marry?" Anne shook her head with a small smirk. Katherine knew that would be the answer, of course, because Anne was as faithful to Henry as any normal wife would be. She would not marry because she claimed that she was already married, and she did not want her newfound riches to be placed in the hands of her husband. Katherine understood her position, and was envious of her freedom at times. But Anne was in a dangerous position without a husband, and despite the fact that their Court had stopped snickering after the King publicly embraced Anne as if she were truly his sister-in-law, that would not transfer when she took her children to Italy.
Despite their attempts for six years in England to be a normal family, Katherine knew that it had already ended the moment Henry became Pope Gregory. She regretted that she was never able to free Henry from his fate, but she knew that it was good for her children that their uncle was the Pope. There would never be any impediment to their happiness or their security, due to their father's decisions with their daughters' marriages and his siblings' fate.
She subconsciously put her hand on her belly, thinking that their seventh child would be just as blessed as their first six. Arthur had never chided her for the sex of any of their children, as William was clearly a sign that their marriage was blessed. Her certainty that her child would have a happy life was due, in part, to Henry's election as Pope. She would not wish things to be different now, but she knew it caused Anne and her three children uncertainty and pain, something she had not known as Arthur's wife.
She could hardly believe that she was pregnant again, as she thought after Isabella she would have no more children, especially after her miscarriage three years ago, her first one after six successful pregnancies. She knew God had blessed them as much as any other couple on earth, but she still could not stop her disappointment when her courses had come steadily until three months ago.
The babe would quicken soon and then they would be able to announce it to the entire country and court. It would certainly cheer Queen Elizabeth, whose health had been in rapid decline. She hoped that her mother-in-law would live long enough to see her newest grandchild.
Anne smiled at Katherine's subtle gesture. "How are you feeling these days?" She knew the Queen considered her newest pregnancy a miracle, and Anne prayed nightly that the Queen would have a safe birth and a healthy child.
The Queen was still a young enough woman to have children, but most people had thought her child-bearing years behind her at thirty-nine, especially after she had given the King six healthy children in relatively rapid succession.
Anne knew that Katherine was the greatest Queen England would likely ever have, and not just due to her successes in childbed. She was her husband's practical equal, and King Arthur took her counsel above all others. Anne had watched Katherine for many years advise and influence her husband, knowing that her only hope to see the reforms she so desperately wanted were through convincing Henry that they were the right course.
In their six-year relationship, Anne had subtly mentioned many things she wished to see come to fruition. When Henry was Lord Chancellor, a position he vacated when it seemed likely that he would become Pope, he had stopped actively searching for and persecuting heretics. It displeased the Queen, she knew, but both women had an unspoken truce to not discuss such unpleasantness. King Arthur was relatively indifferent to the whole matter, and Katherine did not attempt to needle him on the issue. Henry was still outspoken in his defense of the Vatican, and nobody could question his piety.
Anne had also convinced him to use his resources instead to investigate the monasteries, who claimed to save people's souls for a price, and used that money to enrich themselves instead of others. Henry had begun to dissolve them more rapidly than Wolsey had done when he was in charge of these spiritual matters, and most of the income from the monasteries had reverted to the Crown, ensuring that King Arthur would not speak against the practice. Anne had also told Henry that it was wise to invest some of the money in good works for the common people, and together they had helped establish universities and farms to ensure that the common people would not resent King Arthur for removing the monasteries from their communities.
Anne felt like she had helped make some progress in England, but she feared what would happen now that the cause's biggest ally was now Pope and removed from England. The King had made Thomas More Lord Chancellor in Henry's place, and the burnings began again—first with books, but now with men.
The only way that it would stop is if Henry made it a matter of a papal decree.
She was acutely aware of the English bible under her pillow, Tyndale's version. She had discussed it just before she entered confinement with Henry's secretary, Master Cromwell, who had spent hours combing through the translation with her. He had also given her Tyndale's Obedience of a Christian Man, which she planned to bring to Rome with her, despite the danger it posed. Henry would not like that it would call his new-found power into question, and she had decided not to show it to him. But she knew that the lessons she learned within it could be applied in other ways, even if Henry never read the book himself.
At the very least, she hoped that she would be able to convince him that owning Tyndale's works, among others, was not an act of heresy. She thought that learned men and women should be free to read what they pleased, and not have Kings or Lord Chancellors tell them how to live their lives, or tell them what books they could own.
Katherine looked up from her needlework and smiled. "This one made me quite ill in the mornings, but it's final settled. I think it may be a girl, I was always sicker with my girls."
Anne looked over at Princess Isabella and her Elizabeth, feeling very sad that she would not be around to watch the next princess grow up, and that Elizabeth would likely never know her new cousin. "Another Princess would be lovely. Little Isabella is such a delight," she remarked. Isabella was often in her mother's chambers, and was clearly spoiled as the baby of the family. Her father and mother doted on her, and so did all three of her brothers. Unlike her other two sisters, she had not been promised yet, and Anne privately thought she was the prettiest of all of them, and she knew Katherine kept a close watch on her to make sure that she did not catch the eye of any English gentlemen.
Her future was to be wed to a foreign prince, no matter how difficult that would be for everyone to accept.
"When will the baby come, mama?" Isabella asked, her ears immediately perking when she heard her mother talk about her pregnancy. She was the only one of her siblings that had never seen her mother fully pregnant, and she was very excited to not be the youngest any longer.
"Sometime in February, I think. And then you will be a big sister, at last, and you will teach your new brother or sister how to be a proper prince or princess, won't you?"
"Oh yes! And if she is a princess I hope she is as pretty as you, Aunt Anne," Isabella remarked. She of course thought her mama was beautiful, but her Aunt Anne was much younger than her mama, and although she was not married to her Uncle Henry, because her Uncle was now the Pope and could not be married, her papa had told her to treat Anne like she was a member of the family.
Aunt Anne was her favorite lady at Court after her mama. She wore the loveliest gowns and was a graceful dancer, and told the best jokes. Anne also designed her gowns just like hers, and always gave her treats when she came to visit. Her children were also her only English cousins, and she was glad to have playmates at court with her.
"My lady Princess, you flatter me," Anne responded. She had been upset most mornings with how she looked, knowing that her figure had not quite gone back to how it was before, and was oddly cheered by the girl's compliment.
Would Henry still find her as beautiful as he did six years ago, or had an Italian beauty stolen his attentions, somebody younger and more interesting than her?
"Can Elizabeth stay at Court with me and not go back to York Palace? Can we take our lessons together? Please mama?" Isabella asked.
Katherine smiled at her daughter, glad that her thoughts had been mirrored. She was already planning on inviting Anne to stay at Court permanently with her children, despite it being a scandal. She had the position in her household, despite rarely serving her, as she went to York Palace or up to Henry's clerical lands in Yorkshire whenever he did, but with Henry in Rome and Anne in England until he summoned her, she thought this was the best place for her and her children. She had thought maybe Anne had planned to settle in Pembroke after she was ennobled, but she would not be happy in self-imposed exile, that much Katherine knew.
"I would like that very much, if you would?"
Anne's smile was the widest Katherine had seen it in weeks. "Oh, you are the kindest, thank you, your majesty." She rarely used Katherine's formal title, but she had decided it was in order for this occasion.
Her children would be happy and safe alongside their cousins for as long as they could be, for as long as their father, the most powerful man in Christendom, allowed them to be. It was all she could ask for.
February 10, 1532
"Call the baby Anne," Katherine muttered, feeling her forehead burn. Anne was next to her, gripping her hand, crying.
She had labored for three days to bring England's new princess into the world, and she did not know how much longer she would be able to stay with her, or with any of her children. She recognized Archbishop Warham at her bedside, administering her last rites, and she felt her husband at her other side, his head downcast into her bloody sheets. Her vision clouded and she felt so tired. Her eyelids closed shut, and she felt her throat close.
"You cannot leave, not yet, my love. We have so much left to do, and little Anne, and Isabella, and the boys, they all need you. They need your guidance and your love," Arthur choked, feeling his breath leave his body.
Katherine had hard labors before this one, but always recovered quickly. The fever had gripped her severely after she had given them their newest daughter, a girl who was unlikely to live for many more hours. Warham had baptized her, just to be sure, and then turned his attention towards Katherine's soul.
Not that there was a problem with her soul, as Arthur knew she was the most perfect woman to have ever lived. Through his tears, he swallowed and choked out a plea, "And I, I need you. I am nothing without you. Please, you are my Queen and my love. You can't go."
Through her fevered eyes she looked at him, and he swore she smiled. In her moment of lucidity, the last she would have, she muttered, "I have given you everything you need, my husband. I love you."
Her grip loosened on his hand, and she took her final breath. Anne lowered her head and crossed herself. Arthur made sure that he was the one who closed her eyes for the final time, and felt numb.
When they came to remove the bodies of Princess Anne and the Queen, the whole palace heard their King cry out and weep.
May 2, 1532
"The King has finally given the orders that the Queen's household is to be dissolved," Lady Bryan, Princess Isabella's governess, informed Anne. As her kinswoman, Lady Bryan had never shied away from her like some of the other members of the royal children's households.
"I suppose we will have to go back to York Palace, as I have no more position at Court. It would be improper if I stayed." She frowned, thinking of the time she had already spent waiting for Henry's summons, and how lonely the rest of it would be without Katherine and without the Dowager Queen, who died just a month before Katherine.
Arthur had informed Henry of their mother's death, but had been too distraught to write of Katherine's. Anne had informed him personally, and she could feel the genuine remorse in his reply letter. He also apologized that he could not recall her yet, as he was concerned about bringing George over before he was old enough, and about recalling his mistress to Rome when he was still very new in his position.
It had hurt for him to refer to her as his mistress, but she knew that it could not be as it was. She fingered her faux-wedding ring and wondered if she would have to stop wearing it in Rome. In England, it was her only security sometimes.
Lady Bryan nodded, knowing that Anne's sentiment was likely correct. "I myself am to leave the service of Princess Isabella, as the Princess of Wales is now pregnant. I am to go to Wales and serve as that child's governess." The child was due in a few short months, and Lady Bryan would leave straight away to establish the proper household at Ludlow. She privately thought that perhaps the King and the Prince of Wales were overconfident, considering that childbirth was a dangerous business, but she held her tongue.
Anne nodded, knowing that at ten Princess Isabella would not need her any longer, but that a new chief lady will be appointed for her in her household at Court. Arthur would give his daughter the same education as he gave to his three princes, and she would have been in Katherine's rooms constantly, had she lived. Anne's heart ached for the Princess, not for the first time.
As if on cue, a page appeared at the door, wearing Arthur's livery. "Lady Pembroke, the King wishes to speak with you at your earliest convenience."
Anne looked down at her dark blue gown, hoping that she was richly attired enough to see King Arthur, who she had not seen since the day Katherine died. The King had locked himself in his room out of grief, allowing his advisors to govern in his steed. Prince John had ensured that the people and the court still saw some members of the royal family, especially after the Prince of Wales had returned to Ludlow, to go about the business of governing but also to make ready for the birth of his heir. Prince Edward, a special favorite of his mother's, had been beyond distraught and also secluded himself, and the Princess Isabella had just resumed her lessons with her tutors, as her weeping had been just as bad as the King's for months. King Arthur would not send his children away, as they were his only comfort and his only reminders of the Queen, and the court had respected the family's privacy and given them time to mourn.
Anne was thus confused by the invitation but dared not refuse. She had seen the King so rarely, the whole Court had not, and she knew that Arthur's decision to break up his wife's household was a delayed one because of his grief. She thought it would be some months before Arthur wanted to see any other women, save for Isabella.
The King's chambers were spotless, as he had not sent away his servants, but she could still see signs of the grief that she had noticed in her father's chambers for months after her own mother's death. She noticed food that had hardly been touched in the corner, and the King himself was slightly disheveled.
"Anne!" he exclaimed, jumping up to greet her, wrapping her into a hug before she could properly greet him.
"Your majesty," she greeted after he had released her, dropping down into a deep curtsey.
He waved her off. "There is no need for this, not here, not with me. You have been missed, I am sorry I have not called for you sooner," he remarked, gesturing for her to sit down. She waited to say anything, clearly sensing that there was more he wished to say. "Katherine was so incredibly fond of you, Anne. And Isabella asks for you daily, and I appreciate that you have taken time away from your children to comfort her."
"I too lost my mother at a young age, I know difficult it must be, especially without her sisters here to comfort her." Anne had felt so bad for the Princess, and even though her brothers had come to see her every day, they too were mourning.
Isabella needed a friend, and she was happy to be one for her, and was happy to bring her daughter to play with her. Elizabeth loved her cousin, and felt bad that she was so upset. Anne was so proud of her daughter, and pleasantly surprised by her empathy for such a young age.
"I cannot express my gratitude enough to you. That is why I do not wish you to leave Court."
Anne tried to conceal her surprise, but she knew it was not proper for her to stay without a Queen to wait on, even if the whole thing had become a pretense. "In what capacity, your majesty?"
"You will be the chief lady-in-waiting to Princess Isabella. She loves you, and I want there to be some order to her life. She would be so distressed if you were to leave."
Anne nodded, sparing him a smile. "I am honored to serve the Princess, then, your majesty. It will be another few months before Henry will summon us to Rome in any event, and I want to be of use while I am here." She was cheered by the thought of Elizabeth having more time with Isabella, and that she would be able to serve the girl she was so fond of.
"You ought to call me Arthur, Anne. We are family, and I have so little of it left." The front that Arthur had put on faltered, and Anne was alarmed to see him break down weeping. "My wife, my mother, and my new daughter, all gone. And know I will never see my brother or again, or either of my sisters, or Mary and Katherine."
Anne did not know how else to handle her weeping King, so she slowly approached him and wrapped her hands around him. "I am so sorry Arthur." She could not imagine the pain he felt, and she felt a pang in her heart at the thought of Henry mourning the loss of his mother, who was so dear to him, and his friend the Queen, alone. She felt wrong that she was here with his brother instead, but there was nothing she could do until he wished her to be with him.
He looked up at her and grabbed her hand, his voice cracking. "You will stay then? You will not abandon me like everyone else has?"
At that moment, the great King that she had admired since girlhood looked no more than a little boy, more like his namesake nephew instead of him. She felt the urge to run her fingers through his hair to ensure that he would feel safe, but she knew that it would not be proper, no matter that she had just hugged him moments before.
She also did not want to swear that she would never leave him, as she knew that she could not be at Court forever, or for much longer. Her place was beside Henry, no matter what the King had said. She knew that Arthur would not be so cruel as to hold her back in England, and knew that her place was beside Henry. But she did not want to make promises that she could not keep, or make a promise that she would stay another day if Henry were to change his mind.
But what else could she say to her King but what he needed to hear? He had lost his wife, and in time, his children would be enough comfort to him, but he needed to know that he still had family now. "Of course, Arthur. I am as true a sister to you as any you could have. Whatever you need of me, I will do."
Christmas 1532
It was the first time she had danced with a man at Court in years. She would occasionally dance with George when Henry was still in England, and only danced with Henry privately, as his office made it inappropriate for him to dance at Court.
When Arthur had asked her to dance, she worried that she would be unseasoned and ungraceful, but she found that it come back to her naturally. Arthur was not as skilled a dancer as her brother, but kept a steady enough rhythm. She ignored the feeling of breathlessness, that she had only ever felt with one other man before, as Arthur brushed up against her. Nothing about his touch was inappropriate, but she felt her breath catch anyway.
George had warned her as much might be happening, a few months ago, when he noticed that Arthur had been a frequent guest in her chambers, and visited his youngest daughter at least once a day, spending more time with Anne than Isabella.
"Whatever game you are playing with the King, Anne, it is dangerous," George remarked over cards and wine one evening, as was their weekly tradition.
"I am not playing a game, he is like a second brother to me. I am taking care of his daughter," Anne explained, taken aback by his suggestion. She had never thought of the King that way, as he belonged to Katherine, even though she was cold in her grave now. She had watched them when she still lived, and knew that Arthur would never love again. And though he had been over a year since she had seen Henry, he was the only man in her heart.
And yet . . . they were both extremely lonely. Just a year before they were happy with Katherine and Henry, and now they were both abandoned. Anne took comfort in the fact that she would see Henry again, at least she thought. His pen had been cold for months, and she was only kept informed about his whereabouts indirectly, from Arthur's reports from the Vatican ambassador.
They were both lonely and the only other person who understood that feeling was each other. They laughed and drank and ate together, and admired Isabella and Elizabeth as they flourished into young women, and Arthur provided her comfort when she feared Henry would never want her in Rome, and she occasionally held him as he cried over the loss of Katherine.
They were friends, but nothing more. Perhaps family now, but nothing more.
"Everybody at Court knows he spends his time outside of Council with you. And I know you are the Princess's lady, but do you not think that this is getting back to his holiness?" George questioned, his tone accusatory. His father had informed him that he had heard from at least three other nobles at Court that it was believed that Arthur had taken Anne as his mistress. Her reputation was already infamous, so it did not take many leaps for people to get there, and he was sure that Henry's friends were writing him, telling him that Anne was unfaithful to him.
"George, I promise you, there is nothing improper about my relationship with the King. He misses his wife and he spends time with his daughter because she reminds him of her, that is all," she firmly asserted, not willing to concede this point.
"You may be right, but if this continues, if Henry leaves you here for much longer, it will be assumed that you went from one brother to the other."
"You are just like papa, all you care about is the appearances of things. You have no care for his feelings, or mine." And he wondered why she spent more time with the King?! At least Arthur cared about her, and not about what she could give to him.
"That is not true, Anne, I am concerned because I know you. Powerful men have always adored you, and the King is no exception, especially now that the Queen is no longer here. And I know your heart, I know papa told you not to fall for Henry but you did anyway. You fall for them the same as they fall for you."
It was easy for Anne to ignore his words then, as she knew what their relationship was.
Tonight, though, there was an unmistakable lust in Arthur's eyes. It had been ten months since Katherine had died, and Anne had noticed that he had begun to smile more. There was a darkness in his moods at times, and she was sure that he cursed God and whoever else would listen for taking his wife away from him before her time. He had told her that he had planned so much for their life together, but that he knew that she would want him to move forward.
There had been many offers of marriage, but as he looked at her tonight, she had a horrible feeling as to why he had not truly considered any of them.
She felt like such a fool, but she also felt herself growing warm at the idea.
Arthur was a handsome man, not as handsome as Henry, but he still had a full head of blonde hair and kind eyes that she thought were beautiful. He was still young at thirty-seven, despite the fact that he was now a grandfather, as both his daughter, Queen Katherine of Scotland, and the Prince of Wales had recently had daughters. He had expressed to her last week that he planned to travel to Wales as soon as he was able, and to Scotland not long after, especially after Anne reminded him that while his eldest daughter was far away from him in France, Scotland was not too far for him to travel.
He had kissed her on the check when she firmly suggested that he should visit his daughter in Scotland, and at the time she had thought nothing of it.
Had he been trying to get her into his bed for months now, and she was so naïve as to think that he might be the one man who didn't value her for that?
The music abruptly ended and she bowed deeply to him, brushing her lips briefly on his hand. "Thank you, your majesty. With your permission, I'd like to retire for the evening."
Arthur looked confused but graciously said nothing accusatory. "Are you unwell, Lady Pembroke?"
"Yes," she lied. He would not argue if she did not feel well, but she needed time to gather her thoughts.
He sighed and grabbed her hand, patting it, and then he took his thumb and placed it on her palm and she felt a shiver. She wondered if he did too. "I hope you feel better soon. My Court is a dull place without you."
"Give her highness my apologies," she muttered, pulling away from his grasp, trying not to run out of the Great Hall.
Once she returned to her rooms, she dismissed all of her maids, not even feeling like disrobing. She gently unpinned her headdress and laid down, with all of her Christmas finery still on.
There could be no mistaking the King's feelings for her now, and she wanted to scream and smile at the same time. It felt extremely disloyal to the Queen, who had been surprisingly kind to her while she was alive, making her feel honored as her sister. The Queen's reputation could have suffered for associating with her, and she had demonstrated no signs of worry. Anne was well-known as her favorite lady, and she knew how lucky she was that they loved Henry as much as they did, loved him enough to make her the richest woman in England without a husband, and loved him enough to make sure that his children by her were honored, and were allowed to take the last name Tudor.
When Hal FitzTudor was born, everybody referred to him as Master FitzTudor, if they were being polite, or the little bastard if they weren't. Her children could have suffered the same fate, but, out of remorse or out of love, or perhaps both, Katherine and Arthur gave them the family's last name, Tudor, and called their children Lord and Lady, and welcomed them to Court as if they were truly a family and not a Cardinal, a whore, and three bastards.
Queen Katherine had saved her from a life of ignominy, of being kept away in Yorkshire like some shameful secret, and allowed their children to love each other as cousins would. Even if she could not have done it without Arthur, she knew who she had to thank.
Thinking about her husband in an improper way made her truly feel like a whore, and an ungrateful one at that. Perhaps what they had all whispered about her was true.
And then she thought of Henry. The last time she had seen him, she cried all over his Cardinal's robes. He had assured her that they would only be parted for a short time, and that he would soon be holding their newest child in his arms, even if he could not be there when he was born. She knew that when she agreed to be Henry's mistress, she would not always be entitled to travel with him. It was kind of him to even take her to Rome a few years ago, as if they were husband and wife, as if he was truly a diplomat. He dressed in normal clothing when they went out together and showed her the three villas he had built throughout the city, but he had warned her that it would be some time before she would be allowed to return with him once he was Pope.
She knew that she did not have the right to follow him wherever he went whenever he left, but she did not expect it to hurt so badly when he left her in England to fend for herself, with their three children, and wrote to her so seldom. His letters were also somewhat formal, rarely referring to her as his love or his sweetheart, like he used to. She knew he had to be careful, but she wondered how much longer he would have to be careful for, how much longer he would have to pretend that he did not have a family, how much longer she would have to be away from him.
She knew that Henry would be grievously hurt by any hint of a relationship between her and his brother. He had told her numerous times that he felt inadequate in the shadow of Arthur, but she knew that it could not be true any longer, now that he was Pope and Arthur would have to answer to him, not the other way around. But she knew that those old wounds would heal slowly. If Henry still felt at all jealous of his brother, he would be furious with her for acting improperly with him.
But she also wondered if he knew how badly he hurt her by acting so coldly. He had promised her that even when he became Pope, which had always been probable, that he would never cease to be her sweetheart first, to honor her above all other persons, and to treat her as if she were his wife.
A knock at her door roused her from her thoughts, and she was not surprised to see Arthur standing there. "Anne, do you want to tell me what is really going on?" he asked, pushing his way into her room without being invited. "You are still dressed, come back to the celebration," he coaxed, grabbing her hands and pulling her into him. Her chest was against his, and she felt his hand snake down her arms slowly.
"What are we doing?" she asked instead, her voice sharper than she intended. She tried to push away but he held his grip, smirking. She felt herself grow angry at his presumptuousness. "You are still in love with your wife, you are still mourning her, and I am, however strange the arrangement, with your brother."
Arthur let out a harsh laugh, removing his hands from her. "You are not a fool, Anne. You know that Henry will not be sending for you to meet him in Rome, not any longer, if he was even ever planning of it. You've been used, my dear girl."
Anne felt hot tears sting in her eyes at her worst fears being verbalized, refusing to believe them. "No, no he promised me, he promised me that I would always be with him, even if he were Pope. We are meant to be together." She truly believed the last part, but she no longer had confidence in the first.
She had assured him over and over again that their little George was old enough to travel now, at a year and a half, in the many letters she wrote to him, each one growing more desperate. Once winter was over and it was safe to sail, George would be near two, and despite the fact that any crossing would be risk, there was no more reason to hold them here.
She was afraid to leave England but she always knew that her place was with him. If he no longer thought that he needed her, or that it would be safer for him to forget about her, would she be stuck here without him forever?
"Anne," Arthur soothed, touching his hand to her check. Despite herself, she leaned into it, and he wiped a tear from her face. "I do not mean to cause you distress, or call into question a relationship I am not a party to. But, my dear brother seems to be quite settled as Pope, but yet he has not told you to join him, or informed me to make the necessary travel arrangements."
Arthur touched her arm again, and this time she did not pull away. "You still love Katherine, it would be disloyal to her for me to do anything improper with you," she whispered, not trusting her voice. Even if he was right about Henry, that did not change her thoughts of Katherine, or the fact that she would never be his Queen. Even if he did truly care for her, and did not just think of her as a replacement for the woman he would always love, how could he promise her anything more than a few fleeting moments of lust? She was the infamous whore of Cardinal Tudor, now Pope Gregory, and now she was his abandoned lover, a used woman with no husband and three children.
He could shower her with a title and with land, but she was still what she was. An infamous scandal. How could he change that for her?
"I will always love Katherine, Anne. I was never disloyal to her while she was alive and I think of her every day. And I know you still think of Henry."
"He is not dead, your majesty." She wanted to remind him of what he was. He was her King, and she was nothing. If he were to re-engage with another woman, it should be a woman with royal and noble blood, not her. Not the discarded mistress of his brother, if that is what she truly was.
"But, you know as well as I, despite what you may tell yourself and what you may tell your children, that he is going to leave you here. I am so fond of you, Anne. And despite the fact that I have called you sister these past months, you are far more than that to me now. And I know that I am more than your brother to you now too."
She pulled away from his grasp again, no longer willing to look at his handsome and earnest face. She kept thinking of the way that he would come into Katherine's rooms and kiss her so tenderly and passionately. She thought of the days she spent with Henry, combing through reports of monasteries and plans for their university, and then the evenings they spent together. They belonged to other people, one a ghost and the other a living spectre that still hung over them.
It was easy to remember that when she was facing her window, but when she turned to look at him, she saw the man who had been her only true friend since the Queen died. She saw a great King that she had known and admired since she was a child, even when she was angry at him for what he had done to his brother. She also saw a handsome man who, without a doubt, wanted her.
She had forgotten what it felt like to be wanted as soon as Henry departed to assume his destiny. She wondered if her destiny was to be the mistress of a Pope, or the mistress of a King? She then wondered why her destiny had to be tied to powerful men in the first place, but she knew at that moment that her brother was right.
She did not fight him when he closed the gap between them and kissed her. She felt her arms wrap around his back and she felt the scruff of his beard scratch her chin. She felt his hands at her laces, undoing them with a daft touch, suggesting that he had done this before with a woman he had valued. She felt his hands through his hair, and she felt her feet follow him to edge of her bed. She shuddered as he whispered her name in her ear, as if she was also the woman he valued.
In the morning, she prayed that God, and the man who spoke for him, would forgive her.
April 10, 1533
Arthur promised her that he would contain any rumors, and for the most part, he had. His spy network had intercepted Henry's spy network, and intercepted any letters that hinted at an affair. They were also extremely careful, never meeting each other obviously, often coupling in the middle of the day when he was able to get away from the affairs of state. He still traveled to Scotland, and began to seriously entertain marriage prospects. He also ensured that those most loyal to him wrote Henry letters, informing him that Anne was healthy and their children were healthy, and that Princess Isabella was fond of her.
Anne was sure that some rumors had still gotten through to him, and that the Vatican ambassador had probably informed him that there were rumors of her improper relationship with the King, but Anne had ordered Arthur to take another mistress, more publicly. She had even suggested her cousin, Madge, who happily agreed, but Arthur thought that she was still too close to the situation. His choice had settled on Lady Ursula Middleton, a woman with an unknown family name and one of Princess Isabella's ladies. She was less concerned with keeping up appearances, and clearly adored Arthur. Arthur seemed fond enough of her, even if he said his heart was with Anne. Still, her plan had worked, and in a few short months, all talk of their affair had went by the wayside because he was so clearly enamored with Ursula. Most courtiers assumed she would be mad with jealously, not realizing that she was already wrecked with guilt. Still, she studiously avoided Ursula, who was not informed of the ruse and genuinely believed Anne disliked her, never knowing how grateful she was for her.
She did not know if she would ever go to Rome, but she was still loyal to Henry above Arthur, and wanted to go if he called and did not want him to be suspicious of her. Their children needed him, and so did she. Arthur was kind to her, and in her own way she did love him, but he was not the man who set her on fire. She believed that God had put Henry on earth for her to love, and she felt guilty every single day for what she was doing to him. Not only was she coupling with another man, but with his brother. It was the ultimate betrayal, but she was only human, and Arthur made her feel valued.
Arthur never gave her gifts, in order to keep their secret, but he told her that she was beautiful, that three children had not altered her figure, and that she was the most charming woman at his Court. He did not tell her that she was the love of his life, because they both knew that would be a lie, and she knew that she was the love of the other brother's life. But he said enough for her to love him, and to take pleasure in his company.
Princess Isabella was not old enough to understand that her chief lady was consorting with her father, so she still enjoyed a warm relationship with her. Anne marveled at how lovely the Princess had grown, and felt sad every day that Katherine would never see her.
Today, the two of them were composing a song for Isabella's virginals when the Prince of Wales came to visit his sister. He visibly stiffened when he noticed Anne sitting with her, but said nothing as Isabella left with him to go shoot archery. Prince William was dignified like both of his parents, and cared for his siblings very deeply, but Anne was still uneasy around him. He never spared a smile at her, and when he noticed Arthur dancing with her at Court, he looked like he could kill her.
He was still loyal to his mother, and thought that she was betraying her, she was sure of it. But she felt that the Prince had no room to judge his father or her, as he was not in love with his wife. The poor Princess of Wales had given him a single living daughter in three years of marriage, and had not fallen pregnant again. Whenever he was at Court, he rarely brought her with him, and rumors persisted that she preferred it that way. The Prince was clearly in love with one of his wife's ladies, some said it was a woman named Jane Seymour, but as the Princess rarely traveled with him nobody had noticed which lady it was precisely.
When he returned with his sister some hours later, Anne was surprised when he approached her. "Lady Pembroke," he addressed her, motioning her to rise from her curtsey. He glanced to make sure that his sister was out of earshot. "I hope that you are not influencing my sister," he stated, and Anne felt herself grow hot with embarrassment and she felt too dumbfounded to fight back. "I know what you have been doing with my father, and in the very likely event you never travel to the Vatican to resume your post as my uncle's harlot, you should know that you will be immediately dismissed from Court the moment I am King, though you will keep your title and land as my cousins are innocent of your sins."
"Your highness, forgive me if I have caused you offense," she began, feeling alarmed as he held his hand in her face, and noticed that the other two ladies in the room looked horrified by the Prince's behavior. Or were they horrified by her behavior?
"I would suggest you proceed carefully, Lady Pembroke. You may have seduced two Tudor princes, but you will not seduce any others."
She felt it wise to hold her tongue and she curtsied as he left.
"Did William leave already?" Isabella asked cheerily as she left her private chambers, confused by the aghast looks on her attendants' faces. "Anne?" she inquired.
Anne looked at her and smiled, "His Highness had some important business to attend to, but he will return soon so that you may dine together."
Isabella smiled and demanded that they continue their composition, which Anne gladly acquiesced to, trying to erase the string of the Prince of Wales's words, but unable to deny their truth.
May 1, 1533
On May Day, she received the letter she had been waiting for two years for, and he finally signed it with his name and not the one that he had taken as Pope.
My love,
I am so sorry that I have been so cold and distant in my latest letters. My advisors warned me that bringing you here too soon after my election could cause me to lose my position, and warned me that my letters would always be read. I now understand the best way to protect us, and I know this will be our last letter before you come here to be with me at last. We are crossing the Rubicon, whether it is for the best or not, but I find that I cannot spent another year wishing for you to be here with me.
I have heard rumors that my brother has set his sights on you, but I know you have not given in, as everyone informs me he has a mistress now. I am glad for him, and I am glad that I still have you, my love. He cannot take everything from me.
I have also written to Arthur requesting him to ensure your passage, as well as that of our children, and of Hal. I know you do not know him well, but I have plans for him to join me in the church as soon as he is old enough. Please, bring him, and nurture him like you would our children.
I know your life is in England now, but soon we will be a family together here, just as we were there. I cannot wait to see Arthur and Elizabeth again, and to finally meet George.
Come as soon as you are able, sweetheart. You are everything to me, and I miss you more than I can express.
Love always,
Your Henry
Hours after she received the letter, Arthur was in her room.
"You cannot go. He cannot do this to you now. You are settled here, you have a life, you are beloved." Anne swore she could see tears in his eyes, and she knew that she had made a grievous error in thinking that she could have them both. "I forbid it."
"Arthur . . ." she began, but he smothered her mouth with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, as if she were floating away.
"How am I to go on without you? You are the only person that makes me feel like a man."
"It is time for you to find a Queen, your majesty, and it is time for me to become the mistress of the Pope." The words of the Prince of Wales ran through her mind, as she thought of everything she would lose the minute Arthur left this world if she stayed in England.
Henry was the only one who could keep her safe, and despite their two-year separation, she longed to be in his arms. She would miss her brother and sister, and she would miss Arthur despite the unorthodoxy of the whole thing, and she would miss Princess Isabella the most. But things were falling apart in England, and it was time for her to take her children, and Henry's son, to their father to make their fortunes.
"You are more than his mistress, Anne. And you were more than mine. You brought me back to life," he expressed, kissing her again. "One last night, please. And then you can get your affairs in order and set off to Rome as soon as you can."
Anne shook her head. She had begun her relationship with Arthur because she thought that Henry had abandoned her, but it felt wrong to do so now. But, she owed them something too, the relationship that was very real and tender, despite how short it was. He made her feel loved when she thought she had lost the right to it.
"One night, that is all. And then we must pretend like the last five months never happened, and return to our lives. Please promise me, you will find a wife to take care of you when I leave." She touched his face, noticing how vulnerable he looked, just like after Katherine had died. A new pang of guilt hit her, and she felt like this time she was the one doing the abandoning.
He nodded before gathering her into his arms, kissing her like he knew it was the last time he would truly see her.
Apostolic Palace
Rome
June 10, 1533
As soon as dusk fell, and her children were put in bed with the promise of seeing their father in the morning, Anne threw on a cloak in the cover of darkness, and allowed Henry's servant to lead her to his residence.
As soon as she saw him, stripped to his night dress, all the thoughts of the past two years flew out of her head and she ran into his arms.
"My beloved Anne. My God, I have missed you so desperately," he exclaimed after he had kissed her deeply.
They fell back into their old routine like no time had passed, and she knew at that moment that she was blessed to be back in his arms, the only place she wanted to be.
After he had fallen deeply asleep, assuring her that she could stay until the morning despite her fears, she lay in the silence of his great bed and put her hand on her belly. Her next child would be a Tudor, but it would not be his. She only hoped that the child would be a month early, no more, and that she could complete her great lie.
She looked up at the angels painted on Henry's ceiling but could only think about Icarus, and the type of hubris that causes somebody to drive a chariot directly into the sun.
Hi! I know a lot of people thought I had abandoned this story but I just needed to be inspired with an idea. So here it is. I didn't really proofread very well, I apologize for this, but I was eager to get this out. I hope you all enjoyed, I know it was a little twisty and I did some things that may have pissed a few of you off. Please leave a review and tell me what you think 😊 I planned on this being a three-shot, but we'll see where next chapter takes me.
~Marissa