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Hampton Court continued to present itself as festive as it had been. Bright, joyful colours decorated every corner to celebrate the birth of Queen Anne's daughter Elizabeth. It came as an complete shock to many at the birth of a girl due to many expecting the Queen to sire a son.

Thomas did not wait a single hesitation hurrying towards the King's privy chamber. His will and urgency to tell King Henry of his son was growing to an intense amount.

As Thomas strode through the hallways, maneuvering around the many courtiers blocking his direction. He was approaching close until the wretched Cromwell appeared and blocked his path.

"Sir Thomas" greeted Cromwell, scanning Sir Thomas's dark black attire.

"Good Morrow, Lord Cromwell" murmured Thomas, too much in a rush to care what Cromwell needed. As he continued to walk towards the King's privy chamber, Cromwell once again blockaded his path.

Getting quite irritated by his action, More snapped "What is it you want, Lord Chancellor?"

Lord Cromwell smirked and replied "Whatever the King wants is my hearts desire"

More rolled his eyes at his poetic loyalty "Then do what the King desires and get out of my way!"

"That is exactly what I'm doing, Sir Thomas" Cromwell simply responded.

Thomas More raised his eyebrows in confusion, wondering if he might have misheard "What!?"

"You have not yet taken the oath... I am here to inquire of your disobedience towards the King's wishes."

Sighing, More replied "I have no interest to converse with you on this topic"

Cromwell was the man responsible for the dissolution of monasteries, More despised and loathed the man for sacking the Catholic Church and crushing the Catholic religion. He was responsible for reformation of the protestant Church, something that Thomas regarded as heresy.

"Sir Thomas, are you implying to refuse signing to oath?" questioned Cromwell.

Cromwell was regarding of the oath that declared the King the Supreme Head of the English Church, pursuant to Parliament's Act of Supremacy of 1534. Thomas More tried to limit the oath "as far as the law of Christ allows."

"I decline renouncing all claims of jurisdiction of the Church, therefore I shall not sign the oath" claimed Thomas, keeping sure to not say he was going against the Sovereign as head of the English Church.

Cromwell sighed and responded "Then you are to be arrested for high treason against the King and all of England! You shall to be tried and if found guilty, be send to the scaffold, drawn and quartered"

Thomas More did not know if he was to be frightened or merely stunned. He knew this was coming as long as he remained against taking the Oath. His faith was powerful beyond redemption, not even the King could change his philosophy.

"I demand to see the King!" Thomas calmly said, hoping Thomas would not hear the small quiver in his voice.

"Unfortunately for you, The King has important matters to attend. He's much to busy to 'converse' with a traitor" Smirking in victory, Cromwell motioned for a few guards to approach Thomas More.

Thomas silently and without protest, followed the guards out. His hatred for Cromwell grew rapidly as he was led away. He would not see the lurid man victorious if Thomas signed the oath, no he would continue to stay faithful to the true religion forever and always.

"Lady Mary… I have horrible news, we must speak alone" whispered Chapuys into Mary's ear so none of the maids or servants could hear.

Nodding, Mary and the Ambassador hurried to a private, isolated chamber in Hudson house.

"Your excellency… what is the dire news you bare?" enquired Mary, slightly afraid.

Ambassador Chapuys sorrowful gaze pierced a heart-wrenching twist inside of Mary's womb.

"I'm afraid to tell you of Thomas More's recent arrest for refusing to take the oath"

Lady Mary gasped, pity arising in her chest for the poor man "God bless him, he's a true Catholic saint. An honourable and holy man…"

Chapuys sighed and muttered "John Fisher has also been arrested on the same charges… our allies are beginning to diminish"

"What must we do?" she questioned.

Chapuys shook his head, responding "We must do nothing! Any motives used to support the two could be taken against us. Thomas and John are in god's hands now"

Mary felt pity for the two holy man but the Ambassador was accurate, if she had been discovered sending help or allying with the two man then she could find herself in the same position. Mary did not want to spend another night in the cold London towers.

"Has Sir Thomas More confessed to the King or his councilman on the matter of locating my brother?" asked Mary.

Chapuys once again shook his head "By the looks of it, Sir Thomas's arrest was only regarding him refusing to sign the oath"

Mary breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed on the red cushioned arm chair.

"We must pray he continues to stay silent" she murmured.

"It is of utter importance he doesn't breath a word or we both might be facing prosecution, your father has shown enough capacity by imprisoning his own daughter" scowled Chapuys, the thought of King Henry's ruthless actions had his gut twist in fury.

Mary hated listening to anyone discussing her father, his betrayal was a hard blow for her. She quickly began to change the direction of the conversation.

"When do John Fisher and Thomas More stand for trial?"

"Tomorrow morrow, if found guilty… they are to die a traitors death" replied Chapuys, pouring himself and Mary a goblet of wine.

Mary gasped in horror, placing her small hand against her mouth. To die a traitors death was an horrific execution. An man would be drawn of his body parts, quartered and if he manages to survive the dreadful torture, they would be executed by beheading.

"Jesus Christ… no… My father, the King would not go so far!" she voiced, grabbing the goblet Chapuys was offering her and drained the contents of the bitter wine.

Frowning, Chapuys responded "We must pray he does not, their deaths would be a harsh blow to the Pope and all the Catholics in Europe."

Mary rubbed her aching head, concentrating around her temple. After she had not spoken, Chapuys continued relaying another circumstance that had taken place.

"I've heard… Cardinal Wolsey has recently committed suicide during his transportation to the tower when he had been charged with treason"

Mary raised her head, her mind in a quarrel "Wolsey was a lurid man with bad judgements, he had signed my mothers marriage as infertile and sinful. I do not take any pity on that vile man"

Chapuys agreed with Mary, contemplating if he should break the news of her Aunt Margaret's recent death. He did not want to trigger an depression for the young girl who had already suffered enough so the Ambassador kept his mouth zipped shut.

"Also an royal envoy had arrived a fortnight ago, The King commands you back to court" proclaimed Chapuys, watching Mary's stunned and curious expression carefully.

"Has he really?" she whispered, not believing what her ears had heard.

"Yes, my Lady. Queen Anne has given birth…" Chapuys paused, watching as Mary's face turned pale.

"I-is it a male? I've heard many astrologers claimed the child would be a son" she muttered, fearful of the Boleyn domination.

"The harlot has given the King a daughter… God's punishment for her heinous sins against the Catholic church" he beamed, delighted that the King had been proved wrong marrying Anne Boleyn.

Mary felt so relieved hearing those words, finally there was some light in her dark, blinded life. But she also felt great overwhelming sorrow for the young girl who had been placed under such crucial circumstances. By god, the young infant was but a child just like her brother. The two were already enemies, yet not even met and much too young to understand the trivaries of their different birth mothers.

"The King has also made you part of the Princess's house hold, you are to serve her under Queen Anne's command." Chapuys scowled, Anger filled him at the thought of the daughter whose both parents were of royal blood serving the harlots offspring. It was absolutely unbecoming.

Surprisingly, Mary did not show much emotion or discomfort at that phrase.

"I must pack my belongings then…" she whispered, standing upright.

Chapuys took a deep breath and followed Lady Mary out.

Grief was all Charles could feel.

Grief, sorrow, pity, sadness. All these emotions combined were an painful, excruciating stab to his chest. His wife, Margaret died alone, in pain while he mounted some whore with big tits in a brothel.

For the first time, he despised his playboy ways. The very thought of sleeping with another woman made him blind with fury.

Charles gazed at Margarets stiff, pale body that lay in beautiful crochet coffin. Her luscious brown hair were braided in red roses like a true Tudor princess. She was beautiful even at death, the red crimson dress shone throughout the dark, burial chamber. A few candles lit the dark room and the reflection bounced on her appearance creating her the only bright figure in the pitiful chamber.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" he murmured over and over again, hoping somewhere, anywhere she heard his pleas and managed from the bottom of her heart to forgive his god forsaken soul.

Charles stayed in the dark chamber, crying his eyes out until no tears would fall from his eyes. He did not feel his legs pain him from standing during the lengthy hours. Charles merely stood and stood, continuing to apologize to the dead corpse.

He did not even realize he blacked out from the lack of air.

Thanks for reading and more updates coming soon! My computer broke recently so I couldn't post the chapter until now.

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Thanks again :*