Just a few little housekeeping details:

As far as I know I haven't really changed anything from the show except that I'm going to keep Henry Fitzroy alive for now, unsure whether I will have him die when he actually did (just after Anne Boleyn's execution) or keep him in the mix for longer yet…

I'm assuming Katherine to be in her early forties, I'm aware that at the time of the trial she was a tad older than that in real life but in the show I think she doesn't look more than late thirties/early forties so that suits me! I have silenced my outraged history student conscience by telling myself it's fanfiction for a show rather than historical fiction. Feel free to imagine Henry a bit older though, as in season 3 Henry, as he was actually only six years younger than her (in the show I think he looks 10+ years younger than Katherine which is a bit silly). Or just accept beautiful young JRM as he was in season one and screw the inaccuracies! I know it was one of the things I was willing to overlook hehe…Tbh I don't think they look ridiculously mismatched or anything.

I have no idea whether Maud Parr (Catherine Parr's mother) was lady-in-waiting to KoA at this time but I know she definitely was at some point so why not now?

I have never studied Latin in my life and so have just written it as best as I can phonetically. I am more than happy to be corrected.

Finally, a massive thankyou to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Katherine

When I wake the next morning I discover Henry trying to slip away from me unnoticed. He is dressing hurriedly in the pale dawn light, obviously desperate to leave, I only see his face in profile but he is anguished and confused, that much I can tell. I do not give any indication that I am awake and when he turns to face in my direction I quickly close my eyes and pretend to be asleep, if he does not wish to accept what happened last night then I will also participate in the charade for a while. After all his behaviour now is hardly shocking to me, I have ever had to be careful of his changing moods, his temper rises and ebbs like a tide and his wants and desires are liable to turn in moments. If I confront him now he will likely accuse me of entrapping him or taking advantage of his low mood or some such nonsense. No, I will choose the appropriate moment to build on the tentative bridge that we have built last night. I have succeeded in planting seeds of doubt in his mind about that Boleyn girl, about the ridiculous notion of having our marriage annulled and all that remains is for me to be patient and allow them to blossom until he cannot ignore them anymore. Besides, I do not have the stomach for a fight now, not when I am relishing the feeling of being a woman finally loved again by her husband, I have no desire to shatter my happiness in any way. Truthfully, it is no great task to look serene and untroubled when I feel his eyes on me for that is exactly how I feel.

I hear the door bang and he is gone. It could almost be a dream save for the warm place next to me in the bed where he lay and it is in that place that I doze contentedly until my ladies come in to wake me. They say nothing to me to indicate that they are aware of what has happened last night but of course they know, I am incapable of hiding my cheerfulness and I catch some of them subtly inspecting the sheets and exchanging complicit looks with one another. Girls are prone to gossip of course and whilst I would like nothing more than the Boleyns and their allies to find out that the King has lain with me any displeasure that the harlot showed to Henry would likely find its way back to me in one way or another so I will have to keep them quiet somehow.

'Lady Parr,' I summon one of the more trustworthy and mature of my ladies to me just as we are about to leave for Mass and indicate that the others should go on ahead of me. She comes bearing my rosary and prayer book.

'Yes, Madam?'

'It is my pleasure, and His Majesty's, that his visits here remain private and do not become public knowledge. I trust that you will keep my confidence and also that you will impress on my other ladies the importance of keeping mine and the King's meetings in here secret, I know that they look up to you.'

She nods respectfully and smiles at me.

'Of course, Madam. I am sure that the majority will need little persuasion to remain quiet. However, if it is necessary to impress upon them further, may I-΄

'Yes, Lady Parr, bribe them if you must. They will not need to keep quiet for long, God willing, so hopefully we will not wrack up a large bill!'

As she hands me my rosary and prayer book she says very quietly, 'I am happy for you, Madam.' Then I follow her to the chapel and although I am nearly bursting with joy I concentrate all my energies into looking sober and serious, the time will come when everyone will know my happiness, but not yet. Not yet.

Later in the day Thomas More brings Bishop Fisher to see me. I can only hope that his counsel will be more useful than that of the faithless bishops who were sent to speak to me yesterday. It sickens me that they are entrusted to spread the word of God. Still, I have heard favourable reports of Fisher's conduct and surely Thomas, who is one of my only friends and supporters at court, would only deliver me an ally.

'Majesty,' the warm and respectful manner in which he addresses me confirms my hopes that he is here to help me.

'Please,' I gesture that he should take a seat near the fire and seat myself opposite him. It is such a relief to be entering into a conversation with a friend rather than readying myself for another attack of spite and accusations from an enemy.

'Lord Bishop, are you certain that you wish to act for me?' He looks at me as if he has not even considered doing anything else but I continue regardless, he must be aware of the risks that will accompany supporting me. My situation has changed of course, since last night, but I still anticipate resistance to my cause and unfortunately I have no doubt that my enemies are capable of inflicting hurt on those who are close to me.

'You must be aware of the dangers and difficulties that you will face. I would understand if you would prefer peace and tranquillity.'

'Gentle Madam, what peace or tranquillity can there be without justice? Or the love of God?' His response delights me, this is exactly who I need to support me. I thank God for sending him to me.

'I have studied the case against you carefully. They will no doubt press the fact that the Pope's dispensation to allow you to marry the King was…technically faulty and therefore invalid.'

That is worrying, it is exactly the sort of 'evidence' that Henry will seize upon in order to force through a divorce. In my heart I know that he struggles with the idea of simply casting me aside to indulge his lust for another, he still cares for me despite his attempts to persuade me of the contrary. My poor husband, he is trying to persuade himself as much as he is me. And yet if his advisors, who would tell him anything that he wished to hear anyway, convinced him there was a problem with our dispensation then he would be absolved of any responsibility in the matter, at least in his mind. Of course it is common knowledge that there is no real problem with the dispensation but no doubt those cursed Boleyns or Wolsey will manage to find something within it that they can exploit. Anything can be 'proven' now apparently if it is the King's pleasure for it to be so.

'But, the obvious way of solving any such technical…deficiency,' his tone makes it perfectly clear that he invests as much importance in 'technicalities' as I do, 'is not to declare the marriage null and void but to issue more fresh and perfect dispensation.'

That is indeed a perfect idea, positive and unmistakeable evidence that our marriage is valid. I fail to see how anyone, however ingenious, could explain away a second dispensation. I cannot stop a small smile from lighting up my face.

'In any case, the continuance of so long a space has rendered the marriage honest and the principle of supplet ecclesia – let the church provide- has itself made good any defects in the Pope's dispensation.'

'Then you suppose we may win?' Recently it has been a challenge not to descend into misery at my situation, of course I have never once considered yielding, but I have constantly been in fear of what will happen to my daughter and myself. After what happened last night and Bishop Fisher's assurances however, it is impossible not to feel some hope.

'We may win the argument yes, but I-I cannot pretend that it will avail us much.'

I nod in understanding. It is good that he is aware of the difficulties that we face, better that than to be blinded with false optimism. He does not know the extent of the King's misgivings and turmoil about the procedure that he has started so naturally he believes the outlook to be bleak.

'We shall still try.' When he sees that I am still deep in thought he mistakes it for melancholy and attempts to revive my hope.

'Be of good cheer, Madam, for we are on the side of the angels!'

Yes, I think, that is certainly true. More so now than ever.

Days pass before he comes to my rooms again. It is not quite time to sleep, my ladies and I are sewing quietly, a few are playing cards or reading when suddenly the door is flung open and he is there in the doorway, breathing heavily, clearly angry about something or another. We all rise and curtsey, my ladies hastily and clumsily out of surprise but I make sure that I am unrushed and graceful. I always knew he would return here, he cannot help himself.

'Good evening, Sire,' I say and smile sweetly. 'This is a most pleasant surprise.' Then I calmly go back to my sewing, I will not give him any cause to unleash his anger on me.

'Wine,' he barks at one of the girls and fairly snatches the goblet out of her hands when she returns with it.

'Now leave,' he says tersely, gesturing expansively to make it clear that he means all of them. They fairly run out of the room, obviously anxious not to be present when the reason for the fearsome temper he is in becomes apparent. Doubtless it will be my fault but I am not afraid of him, I have borne the brunt of his mood swings before.

'Would you like to know where I've been, Katherine?' He is sitting at the table where the card game had been going on before he interrupted it. His face is cold and there is a cruel glint in his eye, he means to goad me, to hurt me. Well, let him try, I am fairly immune to his callousness after all this time.

'If your Majesty would like to tell me. I do not pretend that it is my right to know.' I keep my tone deliberately light.

'I was playing cards as it happens. With the Lady Anne.'

I smile wryly.

'Oh yes? I seem to remember that the Lady Anne had quite an affinity for cards. She is a competent dancer too. I'm sure that she is a very pleasant…companion for you.'

He sighs, frustrated.

'Is it impossible to make you angry, Katherine? For years I have flaunted my women in front of you and yet you seem to bear me no ill feeling. It is unnatural.'

I shrug and continue with my sewing, nonchalant.

'I love you, as I have told you many times; I forgive you your wrongdoings as does God.'

He smiles despite himself.

'I have heard some people call you 'saint', Katherine. What do you think to that title?'

'I am touched that anyone should think of me in such high esteem. Naturally I do not deserve that name though. I am but a woman, a wife, a mother and a Queen and I try my best to fulfil all those roles as God would want me to. That is all I can do.'

'Spoken like a true martyr,' he mutters. I pretend not to hear.

'Forgive me your Majesty, but I am confused. Despite spending the evening in the company of the evidently enchanting Lady Anne, you seem displeased. Did she perhaps beat you at cards?'

He scowls.

'Yes she did. She is a far better player than you ever were, Katherine.' I let you win, I think, amused, and you truly think you outplayed me every single time. But no matter, he is coming to his point at last.

'But that is not why I am displeased. We had a discussion which has upset me greatly.'

'Oh? I am sorry that you are upset.'

'I am upset because of your nephew's actions! Whilst he is the Emperor's prisoner all the Pope will do to solve my problem is pray!'

From his accusatory stare it might as well be me that is holding the Pope prisoner.

'Henry,' I say softly, trying to placate him, 'you know very well that I have no influence over my nephew's doings, even if I wanted to encourage him against you, which you know that I do not, I could not. All my correspondence is opened and checked,' despite you telling me that you would put a stop to it, 'and besides…'

'Besides what? Well come on then, speak up!'

'Has it ever occurred to you that the Pope has not yet found in your favour because our marriage is valid? Perhaps it is nothing to do with my nephew. Perhaps it is to do with the truth.'

His handsome features contort into an ugly sneer.

'The truth, Katherine? The truth is that the only son I have is a bastard! And that is your fault!'

Those words finally succeed in riling me, I hate any mention of that boy, every time I hear his name I cannot help but burn with the injustice that our poor little sons are dead whilst that Fitzroy bastard is healthy and thriving.

'Well, if you insist on continuing on this path soon you will have nothing but bastards to your name!'

'What?'

'Mary. If you care nothing for my feelings can you not at least think of her? You would have her declared a bastard, the product of…incest.' I have to force the words from my mouth; it makes me feel sick to voice my darkest fears aloud. 'She will never make a good marriage, any prospects she has now would disappear. You would ruin her.'

I take heart from the fact that my words seem to have truly horrified him; no-one has succeeded in turning him against our precious daughter as he has been turned away from me. When he finally succeeds in speaking his voice sounds tortured.

'Katherine, I would never seek to hurt Mary. I care for you both.'

I smile wanly.

'I am sure that is true.'

'It is.'

I have no choice but to believe him, the alternative is too terrible to even consider.

'Katherine,' he stares at the table as if he is too ashamed to look at me. 'I am sorry if my determination that this trial takes place has hurt you. It was not my intention. But surely you understand that I cannot ignore my conscience, I must have an answer Katherine, or I will have no peace. This issue must be resolved, one way or the other.'

One way or the other. At least he has acknowledged that the verdict is uncertain. It is a small triumph to be sure but it is enough for now.

'It is late, I must go.' He is looking around uncertainly as if only just becoming aware of his surroundings again. When he stands to leave however, I stand too, it is clear to me that I must be bold and take advantage of the tender words that he has just spoken to me.

'Henry, will you not stay with me as you did before?'

He is silent for so long after I ask the question that I am sure that he is going to refuse and the renewed disappointment is almost too much to bear. It is only when he lifts his head and meets my gaze that I realise that he will surrender to me again.

'No-one must know. And do not take it as any kind of…promise. Come morning nothing will have changed.'

I nod in understanding, in assent, I will agree to any conditions, and then he comes to me again. He comes back to me.