Hello everyone! I apologize for uploading so late. How are you all doing? Happy New Year! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter….It's not the most humorous chapter I admit, but I was trying to delve deeper into Anne's confusion and heartbreak, what with losing Elizabeth and her head and all. :P I hope you like it anyways! :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for a FRAPPUCCHINO MAKER I GOT FOR MY BIRTHDAY! Thanks Mom. :)


"Well Miss? What would you like?"

I stared blankly past the man questioning me, very confused and dazed. What on earth was going on? Had I been drugged?

And was I dead or not?

"You really should try our lattes. The caffeine content in them alone would wake up the dead!" Wake up the dead? Had someone slipped a "latte" into my food? Attempting to keep my composure, I tried to wrestle up a smie, a rare luxury I had missed in those final days in May. I ended up almost gawking instead.

He looked remarkably like a younger version of that damned Thomas Cromwell. "My lord Cromwell?" I blurted out, surprised that I was losing my calm so easily.

Then again, I had just been beheaded. La Reine Sans Tete!

The Cromwell-look alike grinned, pulling out a what appeared to be a strange looking goblet, with "Starbucks" emblazoned on its side. "I'm afraid I'm not who you're looking for miss, but," he said, pausing for a second, and winking in a flirtatious way I knew all too well, "You can call me my lord anytime!"

Apparently the incessant need for men to flirt didn't change, no matter where I was. I now found myself genuinely smiling at the man's kindness, and blanched at my stupidity in mistaking him for that damned scum Cromwell.

"One latte for the pretty lady, coming right up!" I couldn't stop grinning. It had been a while since someone had paid me a compliment. I wasn't sure where I was, but it was a lot nicer then the life I had just departed from.

I whipped around at the sound of a little girl's voice.

"Can I have a fwappuchino?" A mother and her daughter were standing behind me, and before I knew it, I was struck with a strong pang of jealousy. The little girl looked nothing like my Elizabeth, but she seem to share her precocious nature.

Elizabeth.

What was going to happen to her? Would Henry have her killed? No!

He loved her far too much to do that. Although, I had assumed that he felt the same about me.

"PWEASE?" The girl cried, disturbing my inner turmoil. Her mother sighed. "No." I watched them curiously. They were dressed just as strange as everyone else, their hair unbound, and surprisingly, not clothed in dresses, but strange material that looked like underclothing.

Was I in a brothel? No, that couldn't be. A little girl wouldn't be here. And other women had their legs covered. Some men showed even more skin then was necessary!

Regardless, the girl was upset that she couldn't have the drink. Maybe I could fix that.

"Would you like some of my…latte my lady?" I asked her, using the same voice I used when talking to Elizabeth. The girl's cool grey eyes looked at me, curious. "Weally? " She asked, her adorable voice making my motherly instincts kick in. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and give her anything she wanted, but I stopped myself in my reverie.

This little girl was not my daughter. I had to stop imagining her as such. It was the truth, and yet I wanted to swear loudly at something. My heart wanted to believe it was Elizabeth, but my eyes knew otherwise.

"Thank you miss, but that won't be necessary." The girl's mother said, shooting a weary smile my way. I tensed up. So she had no idea who I was? "Are you sure? I would be happy to oblige." She shook her head, giggling. "Don't encourage her! She becomes an absolute maniac when she's had too much sugar." The mother patted the girl's head.

"Isn't that right, Jane?"

I shuddered, hearing the name of that little milk-sop. She was probably already married to that BASTARD HUSBAND OF MINE!

"Are you okay there?" I snapped my head up, embarrassed. The Thomas-Cromwell look-a-like smiled at me, revealing a pretty set of pearly white and incredibly straight teeth. He handed me the peculiar looking goblet, which I discovered upon grabbing was quite warm!

"That'll be 3.54!" He said, patiently waiting. Three fifty four? It was quite obviously a currency, but not the one I was used too. I wanted to ask if he used pounds, but knew that was useless when I had no money at all. "I apologize. I have no money to speak of. " The man's jovial smile quickly turned into a frown.

"I'll pay for it."

The mother said, coming forward in the line to stand next to me. My face flushed in embarrassment. Who knew that the queen of England would now need someone else to pay for a mere drink?

But I was still breathing, with my head firmly attached to my neck. I had to count my blessings.

"Thank you," I said. All of this was happening for a reason.

I just had to figure out exactly what that was.


Alright! I knew last chapter that I promised a run-in involving Anne and a certain Philippa Gregory book, and I apologize for breaking that. It WILL happen next chapter, promise:) I hope this chapter was alright, I've gotten rather used to writing in script format, so this honestly was a bit of a challenge, so I promise to improve! I hope you liked it...if not...feel free to throw rotten tomatoes. Or maybe some cookies instead. Cookies would be fine. :)