Hello again, citizens of Fanfiction World! Sorry for my super long absence, but I was sort of stalled by this force called Life. Ugh high school is such a drag. So much homework to be done...it makes be sick. Literally I had a fever this entire week. Good thing it broke just before the weekend, which was when I decided to write this chapter. I think you guys have been punished enough ;)
So here it is, right in the flesh, is chapter 5! Be sure to savor every part of it, because there is a great chance that I won't be able to update again for a few more months.
Enjoy!
November 1531
Today is the day.
Princess Mary had thought long and tediously about it for days now. Finally, she have made her decision.
About marrying George Boleyn?
No. Today, she is going to confess her true feelings to a man she really loves. Mary smiles silently to herself; love, it is such a funny feeling. It can remain silent and discreet as to sneak up on you, and then pounces when you least expect it.
Suddenly, her smile faltered and she frowned slightly. What if this doesn't work? What if he...does not feel the same way? Then what will I do, Lord?
Mary is too absorbed in her nervous thoughts to notice Anne walking by the room, along with her ladies-in-waiting. She is wearing a brand new red dress, and an exquisite jewel necklace which Henry have recently purchased just for her.
Upon seeing Mary at the window, Anne sighed inwardly with an expression of false pity. "Look at her...such a depressed little princess isn't she? This will make her so much easier to break once George has custody of her."
Anne's ladies giggled at the comment in vain loyalty, as she herself formed a cunning smirk.
"Alright ladies, let us move on and leave the Princess to mope."
With a swift turn of her head, Anne lead they way for her ladies as they noisily followed behind. Only one of them, a slender girl with brown eyes and flaxen blonde hair, lingered for a moment. Her name is Lady Jane, though most call her indifferently as Plain Jane. Even though she is a part of Anne's retinue, she had always been a silent supporter of Mary and Catherine. She doesn't blame Anne, rather, she instead sees Henry as the problem.
She gazed at Mary with pure empathy, before finally walking away to catch up with the group.
Minutes later, Mary was taken out of her thoughts by the sound of approaching horses from outside. She looked up and saw King Henry's hunting party returning with a bounty of rabbits and a large stag.
None of that mattered to her, however, as her eyes searched the scene for one particular person. A wide smile took shape on her face upon catching sight of him. Moving away from the window, she grabbed a picnic basket that she had prepared from a nearby chair. In her eagerness to get outside, Mary ran quite unladylike through the halls, startling servants and courtiers alike.
Until... Clash!
Mary shook her head in an attempt to reorient herself. She heard a low groan and opened her eyes to see George Boleyn sprawled on the ground. He then sat up and rubbed his forehead, which appeared slightly bruised. She was stricken by how handsome he is and mentally reprimanded herself for thinking such thoughts.
Despite her better judgement, she reluctantly asked,"Um...are you alright?"
"Ugh...I am fine, just sore right now. Thank you...?" He opened his eyes and instantly leapt to his feet. "My Lord, you are Princess Mary!'
Regaining his senses, he bowed dutifully saying,"My most humble apologies, your grace. Here, allow me to help you up."
He extended a strong hand toward her, his eyes reflecting true benevolence. Impressed by his act of decency and kindness, Mary accepted it and was pulled to her feet. Upon seeing him smile, Mary instantly lowered her gaze.
"Thank you", she replied softly.
George's brows lowered in confusion as to why she was looking away from him. While I am a Boleyn, surely I am not that hideous to look upon.
His eyes followed hers until he saw that all the contents of her basket had spilled out across the ground. Immediately, he set to work to gathering them and placed them back into the basket. Mary only awkwardly stood there as he did so.
"Here, I believe this belongs to you." George presented her with the basket, waiting patiently for her to take it.
Mary eventually did so, though still not making eye contact. "Thank you...again."
Without another word, she fled past him hurriedly. George couldn't help but grin as he looked at her retreating form.
"So that is Princess Mary whom I am to marry? Well, she doesn't sound nearly half as bad as Anne makes her out to be."
Disregarding her surprise encounter with George Boleyn, Mary raced across the front courtyard. The hunting party was just starting to dismount. She caught a glimpse of her father, who was laughing jubilantly at the success of the day's hunt.
Finally, she found that one person among that group of burly men. Jean dy Lys was tending to his horse, when he caught sight of Mary approaching him with a picnic basket.
Hmm what can she be possibly planning to do with that?
"Jean! Jean!"
"What is the matter, Mary?"
With a few more steps, Mary has reached him. "I...I want you to join me in a picnic", she told him in a slightly pleading tone. Her blue eyes shone with child-like hopefulness and her gentle smile showed longing.
Jean gaped at her momentarily, before uplifting his face toward the opaque sky. A volley of wind went through the courtyard and caused their hair and clothing to toss along.
"A picnic? Really, in this weather?"
"Please, Jean, I've felt so trapped in the palace lately",insisted Mary."You are my closest friend here and I could really use the company."
The Frenchman looked into her eyes and realized that he could not bring himself to refuse her. So with a defeated sigh, he nodded affirmatively.
Mary beamed with joy as Jean helped her onto his mount. She took extra care to wrap her arms securely around his torso as he reigned the horse around. Being close to him brought her a pleasant warmth, as his natural lavender scent eased her nerves.
"Wait...has your father approved of this?"Questioned Jean cautiously.
Mary exhaled deeply. "You know Jean...I really don't care right now. He trusts you so it's fine with him."
Seeing no wrong with that answer, Jean then sharply urged the steed into a full gallop. In a matter of seconds, they were out of the courtyard, gradually disappearing into the English landscape.
In the palace, Thomas Cromwell sleeps soundly in his grand bedroom. Ever since that horrific incident, Henry stressed the notion that Cromwell should be given the best care possible. Much to his relief, the doctors were able to heal him after all, saying that Cromwell was lucky he did not drink the whole content. At least there was now someone to blame for that act of terrorism: Thomas Moore.
The door creaked open and it woke Cromwell. Muttering mindlessly, he slowly opened his weary eyes to see a young servant boy carrying a tray of food. Cromwell grinned smugly. It is the same boy who confessed to being the poisoner. He motioned for the lad to approach closer.
The boy did as requested and set down the food properly on the table beside Cromwell's bed. Suddenly, he turned on Cromwell with a slightly irritated expression.
"I did what you wanted, your Grace. Now where is my payment?" He demanded bluntly.
Cromwell laughed lowly at the boy's young boldness, and reached for a pouch of gold from his robe pocket. The boy's eyes visibly widened at the sight of such a precious bounty. Never in his life had he seen that much wealth. Cromwell himself, was amused at the boy's apparent fascination with the gold coins.
"Well, aren't we impatient today",he said with attempted humor. "You are very fortunate that I was able to convince the King to allow you to keep working her. Believe me, that was no easy task! But, you did your job well and have earned your reward. So as a token of my gracious gratitude, I give you these to use as you please."
He then placed the pouch of coins into the boy's hand, who immediately tucked it away. "Thank you very much, your Grace!"Exclaimed the now beaming lad. "Due to your generosity, I can help aid my mother and younger siblings at home. I am-"
"Cromwell!"
Both of them turned to see that King Henry have entered the room, a parchment rolled up in his hand. His alert eyes flitted between Cromwell and the servant boy. Realizing the importance of the situation, Cromwell then placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and bid him to leave the room.
The boy bowed shortly before heading toward the door, where he next bowed to acknowledge Henry. While the boy avoided eye contact with his intimidating king, Henry gave him a scathing glare as he walked pass. All was still in the room until they heard the door close and the boy's footsteps fading away.
Cromwell uplifted his body so that pillows supported his torso as he sat up on the bed. "Your Highness!"He greeted enthusiastically."How comforting it is that you have come to visit me."
Henry smiled brightly at seeing his friend well and alive. He steadily approached Cromwell as he spoke, "Cromwell, you old dog! So I see you are feeling better now?"
"Why, I was scared out of my wits just thinking I was going to die!"He replied with the same mirth. "Yes, I am feeling quite revived again, I appreciate your asking."
Cromwell then noticed the parchment Henry and pointed to it. "What are you holding there, your Majesty?"
Upon the question reaching his ears, Henry's smile instantly faded and was replaced by a grim demeanor. "This, my friend, is the paperwork for executing the trial of Thomas Moore. He was the one who poisoned you, though it was indirectly. He somehow convinced my own servant, the very same who was here just minutes ago, to carry out his dirty deeds!"
Henry's expression then became one of intense rage as he thought about the treasonous plot. Trying to murder his greatest adviser shall not be tolerated! He vowed there and then that Moore was going to pay dearly with his life!
Cromwell assumed a weak and helpless facade, as he said, "Your Majesty, you have my eternal and humble gratitude for all your hard work in attaining justice on my behalf. You are truly the most noble monarch in all of Christendom! God bless you, your Highness."
Inside, Cromwell was silently delighted in finally having defeated his religious rival. At last, I shall be rid of that lousy humanist pest and can continue my religious conquest of England! Only then will they cease to ridicule me as a lowly commoner, but recognizes me as a powerful noble in my own right!
His words eased Henry's temper and he became cheerful again. "This is treason, Cromwell, and Moore shall be punished! You are my most trusted adviser, so I could never afford to lose you."
He then stood up and said, "Well, it seems I have stayed here long enough. I need to be getting back to my royal duties. Rest plenty, Cromwell, and eat your food. I'll be leaving now."
So with that, he exited the room leaving Cromwell to his supper.
Far away from Windsor Castle, there is a large, majestic oak tree located atop a hill. That is the place where Princess Mary and her companion, Jean du Lys have settled into their picnic. Even in the middle of fall, the grass still feels naturally soft as it bends in unison with the breeze. The sun's rays shone brightly through the tree's golden leaves, thus giving it a beautiful illuminating appearance.
It is in that blissful setting, that Mary and Jean spent hours conversing and exchanging stories, merely savoring each other's company. Mary broke into fits of laughter when a bird swooped down from nowhere, and took his grape from his own fingers!
"Why, that naughty winged thief!" In truth, he really didn't mind, and also took to laughing himself.
It was a long while before both of them was able to recover. Mary had to cradle her stomach, which ached from too much laughing. Jean resumed to finishing off the last of the plump, juicy grapes.
Mary sighed lightly and spoke,"You know, Jean, this place brings back some really great memories for me."
"Would you care to share them?"
Mary was more than glad to tell Jean about them. Suddenly, her eyes glazed over and a dreamy smile lingered on her lips. Images from the distant past came flooding in her mind, and it took her a moment to see them clearly.
"I remember the various times that I was here with my mother and father, when I was very young. My father would take a break from his busy schedule, and the three of us would go out here for a picnic. It was under this very tree that I had some of my most memorable childhood experiences. I was so happy spending quality time with my parents, and well...just being with the both of them."
Two blinks brought her out of the trance as her smile suddenly faded. She drooped her dead saying,"But that was when we were all happy. When my father was a caring and loving man. Now everything has changed. He has grown corrupted and dark...rarely acknowledges me anymore."
A tear rolled down which saddened Jean immensely. He immediately provided a handkerchief, which Mary took in silent gratitude. He then rested a comforting hand on her shoulder as he spoke, "That's not entirely true, Mary, as I have seen how he looks at you with pride. I believe that deep down in his heart, you are still his daughter and Pearl."
Mary sniffled a bit and smiled wanly at his attempt to comfort her. "But that will certainly change once Anne gives him the precious son and heir that he so badly craves for. After that, I shall be left and forgotten in the shadows, probably to be trapped married to George Boleyn forever!"
Jean's expression grew more stern as he gripped onto Mary's shoulders in order to look at her in the eye. "Enough of that, Mary! You are a proud Tudor Princess, daughter of Catherine of Aragon, and granddaughter of Isabella and Ferdinand! You are an intelligent, strong and virtuous princess, and must never forget that! Do not allow the Boleyns and Howards to frighten you. For I swear on my life, that they shall do no harm to you as long as I am with you, do you understand?"
Mary nodded in understanding.
A gust of wind flew against them, and Jean could feel Mary shudder. In a chivalrous act, he removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. A crack of lightening resounded in the distance, causing Mary to whelp. Jean looked up toward the sky and was alarmed to see dark storm clouds looming overhead.
Typical English weather we're having today, is it?
Jean then reverted his attention back towards Mary. "We should be getting back to the castle, lest we want to be soaked to the skin in the upcoming shower. Mary, you start gathering all the leftovers. I'll get my mount ready."
As soon as he finished speaking, Jean started getting up, but Mary took hold of his arm. "Jean...I have something to tell you."
"What is it?"
Mary closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "The truth is, that I can't marry George Boleyn."
"Why not?" Asked Jean, who is a bit shocked. "While I realize that he is the brother of your rival, it is the only way that you will regain your royal rights."
Mary became increasingly frustrated with herself, until she finally blurted out, "Because I am in love with you!"
Those words stunned Jean to the point of being dead still. He just stared at Mary with an expression of pure bewilderment, which lasted for what seemed like an eternity.
Oh dear...this was not meant to happen at all.
Finally, he managed to ask, "Pardon me, Princess?"
"I am in love with you, Jean du Lys,"repeated Mary. "If only I could marry you somehow, instead of George. Ever since I've first met you, I knew that you had captured my heart."
Jean could not even begin to describe the level of embarrassment he felt at that point. Soon enough, his cheeks bloomed an intense red blush and he began chuckling lightly. It was now Mary's turn to be bewildered.
"Why are you doing that?"She demanded urgently.
To her surprise, Jean resorted to enfolding her hand in his. Poor Mary, there is absolutely nothing in this world that could have prepared her for the biggest shock she will ever receive in her life.
Looking straight into her crystal blue eyes, Jean sincerely confessed, "Mary, there is actually another detail that you should know about me."
"Which is?"
"I am not the man that you think I am. I am in truth, a girl, and I only don these male clothing in order to do my mission. So there...now you know." Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Jean then adverted his gaze away from her.
Mary couldn't believe it! At that moment, all such feelings of romance and love that she had felt towards Jean du Lys vanished into thin air. The shock that she felt was so overwhelming! The full force of it actually caused her mind to fog over in a trance.
Eventually, Mary was able to shake her head and clear out her mind before finding her tongue. "So if you are not a man, then what is your real name?"
"It's Jeanne...Jeanne d' Arc",replied Jean. "But in English, that would be 'Joan', if I'm correct?"
Mary then fell silent again to comprehend it. Hi-Her name is Jeanne d' Arc. Why does it sound so strangely familiar? Oh well...
"Wait, why would Rome use a female agent to infiltrate the English court?"
Joan smiled nervously as she answered, "Well...it is because I am their best agent available. Though, I was required to adopt masculine attire.
"Well you did a fine job with that, since you have managed to fool me and everyone else."
"Yes I have. I sincerely apologize for not telling you this earlier, Princess."
To her astonishment, Mary merely laughed at her apology. "Oh, there is no need um...Joan. I can understand that you must take precautions to ensure the secrecy of your mission. Gender doesn't matter, as long as you are here to aid me." She then added,"As a friend that is."
Joan breathed a great sigh of relief for that. She cringed as a single drop of water fell on her forehead. Soon, they realized that it was actually drizzling.
"We need to head back to the castle", they both said in unison.
So after rushing to gather everything into the basket, Joan and Mary took off on the path back to Windsor Castle. In spite of everything, Mary still resorted to hugging Joan's torso for support. They rode in silence through the escalating downpour, with no sound apart from the pounding of the horse's hooves against the earth and its labored breathing.
However, Mary then broke the streak of silence by questioning, "Joan...do you think that it is a sin for one to fall in love with the same gender? Even if it was by mistake?"
Joan had to ponder with that for a while. Eventually, she managed to conclude a final answer:
"I believe that question, along with everything else in this world, is best left to God Himself."
Up in the infamous Tower of London, a certain religious prisoner is being imprisoned. He goes by the name of Thomas Moore. Moore is a renowned humanist and devoted Catholic. He was also Princess Mary's tutor, thus he is a formidable supporter of the Princess and her mother. Alas, he had been sentenced to serve life in the Tower for refusing to sign the pledge renouncing the Pope and adverting loyalty to Henry, as head of the independent Church of England. His passive yet persistent method of resistance, can make him comparable to Catherine of Aragon herself. Moore knew that his greatest rival, Thomas Cromwell, the Earl of Sussex, would stop at nothing to take his life.
It is already halfway past ten at night, and Thomas Moore is still at his desk trying to write his daily memoir by candlelight. Years of practicing scholarly concentration made him oblivious to the great thunderstorm that was raging outside his window. The wind howled restlessly as the thunder, and lightening light up the heavens. None of that seems to ever bother Moore, as he continued to steadily guide his feather pen across the paper.
Then his ears perked up to the thumping of footsteps and clanking of metal keys. He heard a key being inserted into the lock, which was then turned to trigger the mechanism. In a matter of moments, Charles Brandon and two guards were in his cell.
"What is the meaning of this ill-timed visit?"Demanded Moore, as he slowly rose from his seat.
Charles remained indifferent as he took out a paper parchment and unrolled it. He cleared his throat before announcing, "Thomas Moore, you are hereby charged of high treason against the Crown. Your trial shall commence starting next month in December."
Wow that was one heck of a chapter! Mary finally learned the truth about Jean du Lys...that was fun to right. I also apologize if Mary appeared to be OOC. Also,I think most of you have figured out the truth behind Cromwell's alleged attempted poison. But just in case you haven't, I 'll just tell it to you.
So what really happened, was that Cromwell poisoned himself and blamed it on Thomas Moore in order to get rid of him. Does that makes sense? Of course hypothetically, Cromwell would have used a non-lethal amount of poison.
I would advise you all not to panic about Thomas Moore. I understand that high treason is worthy of death, but don't worry, I'll make sure that doesn't happen. By me, I mean Mary. So please review and all that jazz! Keep your fingers and toes crossed, and just HOPE that I'll update soon. With how busy I am with school, I doubt I would be able to write and update by next week.
Ciao!
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Hey, I wrote you guys this wonderful chapter, so the least you could do is review for God's sake. No pressure.