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The harsh stoned walls were rigid and stiffly embedded on the tower walls. A small fire burned in the miniature hearth, radiating a red and orange colourful light in the dark, secluded room. On the floor, Mary kneeled with her tiny hands clasped together in prayer. News had arrived of her mother's death a fortnight ago, yet she still had no idea what had transpired with the child. Was it another stillborn or was the letter sent a fabrication? She clearly recognised the seal and her mother's signature was genuine. The handwriting also looked like her mothers. Day's like these were too difficult to bear and all Mary could do was pray for a brighter future.
Mary begged god to help her through this struggle in her life. Everything was a puzzle but with many pieces that had gone missing. Her poor mother was lying in a cold casket, awaiting her funeral in suburban land that no Queen should ever be buried. Life seemed meaningless to Mary.
A sudden noise came from the entry way to her cell. Standing upright, Mary curiously stared as the latch turned and the door swung open. Relief swarmed Mary as she caught sight of Ambassador Chapuys entering the crammed room, twitching his nose at the foul air.
"Your highness" he bowed, taking off his feathered hat.
Without a moment's hesitation, Mary run forward and embraced her long-time friend. Gingerly, Chapuys accepted her enfold not quite used to her interaction.
"I see you've not been visited very often" he murmured, a smile forming on his wrinkled face.
"Indeed, I've been separated from any signs of life" replied Mary, instantly warming up to the only company she received in a very long time.
"I see your accommodations are not the most… comfortable" said Chapuys, observing the small bed that lay on the far corner of the stony room.
"I've gotten quite used to it" she sighed. Mary quickly changed the conversation "Tell me, what's been happening outside this pathetic tower?"
Chapuys face suddenly went grim "I must apologise for your poor mother's death"
Mary's expression also fell "Yes… I have heard" she paused and strained herself to prevent tears from streaming from her eyes.
"The court's in quite an uproar. Rumors are circulating court that is strongly surrounding your mother" said Chapuys, loathing the direction of their discussion.
"What rumors?" Mary asked curiously, blinking tiny tears away.
"Your mother is said to have died from childbearing. She has delivered a son" Chapuys watched Mary carefully. Her face was shockingly calm when he had told her of her mother's manner of death but when he mentioned the word son, her expression quickly contorted in relief.
"A son?" she repeated. He nodded, and then suddenly it hit him why Mary acted so indifferently.
"Tell me, my lady. Did you know of your mother's pregnancy?"
Mary's strayed her chocolate brown eyes away from his and he abruptly understood.
"How?" he questioned, his mind reeling in ideas.
Mary exhaled and once again faced Chapuys "My mother had dispatched a letter and had written of her miraculous pregnancy"
Ambassador Chapuys dipped his head and inquired "Do you believe the child is the King's?"
Mary regarded him with bewilderment and anger "I most definitely do! My mother would never sleep with another besides my father"
Instantly ashamed by his impulsive question, Chapuys apologised "I beg forgiveness, my lady. Your father has made quite a point that the child was not his own"
Shock embedded Mary to her very core. "W-why n-not?" she stuttered.
Ambassador Chapuys sorrowfully explained the King's proclamation in front of the whole council and his decision to send the 'bastard' boy up north.
"I can't believe it" Mary collapsed in a nearby wooden chair and cradled her head. Her mother had been right. She had written that the King would never consider her child as his own but Mary was naïve and continued to hope for her father to love her like he did once upon a time. She wanted her family back. How could she be so immature?
"I'm sorry, my lady. The King could always change his mind, we must be patient." Said Chapuys, wanting her happy mood to resurface. Mary did not reply but continued to gaze at the other side of the stoned wall.
"That is not all, my lady…" he paused, waiting for her attention.
Mary turned back to Chapuys, listening to what other bad news he had to bring.
"Your mother, Catherine, has… signed your illegitimacy." Chapuys watched as Mary face was contorted in astonishment. It felt like someone had down him a blow as he watched her suffer.
"No…no my mother would never…" she breathed, refusing to accept what she had just heard.
"The King was presented with her seal by Charles Brandon. Her signature was proved authentic"
Mary shook her head and continued to disagree "My mother had always fought for my birth right. She wouldn't just simply give up"
"It appears she has" responded Chapuys, looking sincerely apologetic.
"Why? Why would she just throw all that she has taught me to believe like it was nothing?" asked Mary, tears brewing in her eyes
Chapuys had no answer to that and all he could do at that very moment was hand the poor girl a scented handkerchief to wash her tears. Mary pushed his hand away and wiped her teary eyes with one hand.
"My father… does he want me to also accept myself as illegitimate?" she questioned.
Chapuys nodded grimly, craving to be of more help but unfortunately, he was completely useless in this situation.
Mary thought hard on the circumstances. Her mother must've agreed to the King's wishes for some sort of motive. Mary wondered if she spent so long declining the King's wishes, would he eventually give up or continue keeping her in the Tower? Or would he do much worse? She had no idea of her father's intentions but considering she was currently locked in the tower, something much worse can come of it. Her mother had always been right so perhaps obeying her father will benefit and protect her.
"Chapuys… I… I have no choice but to pronounce myself as illegitimate" she said. "I accept myself as a bastard" she whispered; never thinking she'd say those words.
This is for you, little brother. When I get released, I will come to you. You're the only one left for me. She thought.
Ambassador Chapuys was beyond surprise. He wondered if he should argue but realised this would an advantage to her in the long run. Chapuys walked out of the cell to get all the necessities for the process.
Vast amounts of cloth were presented to the Queen in numerous amounts. Anne carefully regarded the silver silk and stroked the satin to distinguish its quality. After her observation, Anne smiled at the dressmaker who was clad in deep purple.
"I adore the texture, Sir Francois. I believe it would make a wonderful gown."
The dress maker bowed and a slight blush appeared on his cheeks at the kind compliment.
"Merci beaucoup, your majesty" beamed the French tongued dressmaker.
Anne continued to grin as she gazed upon the many layered colourful silk offered to her. The fabric was very expensive and exquisite. The very garments a Queen was meant to wear. All her dresses and gowns were specifically designed in French tastes for French outfits were greatly more detailed in trimming and decoration then the sophisticated English gowns.
As Anne continued peering at her many dresses, she had not noticed her Husband, Henry walking into the compartment. "Anne" he called.
Turning her attention to her husband, Anne merely smiled and sprawled herself into his strong arms. "Henry" she responded, her eyes twinkling.
Kissing her on the forehead, Henry murmured "How was your morning?"
"Pleasant" she answered back. Unexpectedly her expression turned unattractive "Until I heard a courtier speaking of Catherine's bastard son"
Henry's face became twisted in anger "Who? Who was this imprudent fool?"
"Does it matter?" she asked. "Everyone in Hampton court is talking of the bastard" Anne Boleyn turned her gaze away from Henry's.
Henry heaved a great sigh "You mustn't listen, Anne."
"That's not possible" Anne snapped, breaking herself from his arms "Everywhere I go I hear them whispering of Catherine's child. I can't stand it, Henry. The boy's is a mere bastard and I shall give you many legitimate sons you would be proud to call your own"
Henry grasped her thin arm and pulled her towards him. "The boy is meaningless, Anne. I want you and only you." Henry stared down at her ample red lips and couldn't stop himself from crushing his lips onto hers. After what seemed like eons, the two lovers finally broke away, desperately drawing in more air that had been lost due to their smothering kiss.
"Mary is to be released" said Henry, stroking Anne's bare back "She has agreed to my wishes"
Anne beamed at her husband and kissed his left cheek. Their children will sit on the English throne for generations to come and knowing that fact made Anne giddy with happiness.
"Is she to return to Hudson?" Anne questioned.
"Most likely" answered Henry, nuzzling into Anne's shoulder as she laughed at the interaction.
"Will you allow Mary to give her farewell to her mother?"
Henry's arrogant face scrunched up in resentment "No! She will not be allowed to attend the funeral. Mary has caused enough trouble"
Anne was thoroughly stunned at the King's hateful response "Why not? Her mother's dead, Henry. Let the poor girl be present at the Burial. She's of no harm"
"I will not allow it. Mary is a troublesome child, she must learn." Henry said simply. Anne saw no point in further questioning the King and gave him a soft peck on the cheek.
The royal couple entered the court room clad in bright yellow. The queen wore a beautiful golden yellow golden with pearls braided in her thick black hair. The King was completely covered in yellow from head to toe except for a single white feather he had in his bonnet. The mourners for Catherine of Aragon were deeply shocked at the sight of their King and Queen dressed in merry colours, signifying happiness and joy. It was as if they both were celebrating the death of the Queen.
Bishop Fisher was downright dumbfounded as he watched Henry and Anne dance, cheerfulness plain in their expressions. His good and long-time friend approached him; Sir Thomas More moved towards Bishop Fisher, also very displeased with the King's and Queen's jolly outfit and behavior.
"The joy that the King and those who favor this concubine have shown at the death of the good Queen is absolutely despicable. Downright, sinful" hissed Thomas into his ear.
The two men immediately left court and strode through the green, luscious gardens of Hampton.
"I had been present with the Earl of Wiltshire and his son, who said it was a pity the Princess did not company her mother, Catherine" Thomas raged, upset at his encounter with the disgraceful Boleyn.
"All of England are becoming heretics. We must restore the Catholic church" said Bishop Fisher.
"The King had already decreed himself as a protestant. It's impossible to change his religion" responded Thomas More, sometimes wishing Fisher would think as politician and not always as a holy man. "What do you think of the young infant Catherine has given birth to?"
Bishop Fisher looked thoughtful "What is there to say? The King does not recognise him. He's better as nothing but a bastard"
"The concubine is not yet pregnant…" murmured Thomas, pausing to think.
"But she soon will be!" interrupted the Bishop. "It's only a matter of time"
Thomas More rested on a nearby timber bench, taking off his bonnet as he did so. "I heard Ambassador Chapuys accompanied the Lady Mary back to Hudson Castle. She has also followed her mother's footsteps and agreed on her illegitimacy"
"Lady Mary has her reasons. At this moment, we must hope she never renounces the true faith like her father has" said Bishop Fisher.
"I doubt that will ever happen, Bishop. Mary's a true Catholic" proclaimed Sir Thomas. "Unlike the traitor Cardinal Wolsey"
Bishop Fisher's face was immediately contorted in repulsion and hatred "Don't speak that heretics name! He betrays god by agreeing to marry that Boleyn Harlot to the King"
"And now he's the Archbishop of England. A high position that a son of a King can be bestowed with" muttered Thomas More, shaking his head in displeasure.
Bishop Fisher snorted "The late King, Henry the 7th sought for Prince Henry to become an archbishop when Arthur was still living and well. Imagine such a sight if Prince Arthur lived to reign as King?"
Sir Thomas More couldn't help but laugh at the idea of the ruthless and low tempered Henry Tudor being christened as an archbishop. It was truly a folly imagination.
Maria had been tending the young Arty, as she now called him in his crib. The young boy was a bundle of joy but also loads of hard toil. After two weeks, the child had reached a chubby size and had always thrown temper tantrums at whatever time he was voracious. Maria began to feel remorseful for the unfortunate wet nurse who couldn't satisfy young Arthur's appetite.
A gurgle came from below, Arthur softly sneezed and a spurt of boogers came oozing from his petite nose. Maria giggled as little Arthurs ogled his big dark eyes. Grabbing a tissue, Maria wiped the snot from his miniature doll-like face. Carefully, she had picked the young infant up and cradled the crooning baby in her arms. She began to sing a lullaby and watched in awe as little Arthur began to drift asleep. Time seemed to be passing rapidly when Maria spent time with Arthur. She had not paid much attention to the hour until she heard a loud bang from outside. Blinking in drowsiness, Maria carefully placed the sleeping baby back into his cradle and reached towards the door.
Maria was stunned at the sight of numerous soldiers standing outside the entrance to the nursery.
"What has brought you to Kimbolton? There are no criminals under this roof"
The leader of the guardsman ignored her question "You and the bastard are to be transported from Kimbolton by the order of the King!"
Maria flinched at the crude word being referred to the innocent baby. "Where to, may I ask?"
"Felltern House. You have ten minutes to prepare for the journey" said the rough voice, his face hidden behind his helmet.
Maria nodded, too distressed to speak and hastily began to pack all the requirements for her and Arthur.
What is going on? Why are we being transported? Why would the King impose this?
Question filled her mind and Maria desperately tried to block them out. Her hands shook as she hurriedly crammed her belongings. Thankfully, the hired wet nurse had arrived and also began to help her prepare for the unexplained journey.
"M'am what do they want?" asked the wet nurse, her features covered in fright.
"Nothing to be afraid of" murmured Maria, hopeful her words were true.
"Time's up!" roared one of the guardsman. Maria silently cursed the vile man and wrapped the sleeping baby in a warm wool blanket. Arthur blinked tiredly and gave a soft yawn as Maria lifted the infant. Maria was suddenly frightened if Arthur were to scream and bellow at the unfamiliar, scary man but to her surprise, Arthur gazed intently at the guards as if inspecting them but after a short while he gave another gurgling yawn and nestled deep in Maria's arms.
Maria tightly cuddled little Arthur in her arms as one of the guardsman shouted to hurry her pace and slightly pushed her to speed up her walking.
"May god protect us" Maria mutely prayed.
Woot woot! Another chapter!
Many of you guys thought Mary was going to be executed but I never planned for Henry to go that far. He would be the greatest fool if he had. His relations with the Spanish are already very strained so why would he make it worse by executing his daughter who simply rejected to call herself a bastard? He still cares for Mary even though their relationship at the moment is stressful.
Thanks to all the Kind Reviews! You guys are the best of the best of best … that made no sense.
Anyways, I love you all and I'm looking for a beta reader so if any of you guys are interested, message me!