AN: Well. Here I am at a brain fart. My creative juices haven't been flowing much. It would be nice if you could help me with any of my stories. Thanks!
Mary Tudor. That child had a temper, let me tell you. I would stay up for hours, listening to her wails of anger echo through the castle. She looked like our father, Henry VIII. The blue eyes, the red gold hair, the temper! She had her mother's stubborness too. She wouldn't eat certain things, she wouldn't play with certain things, and she didn't like certain maids. So by now I was eight years old, and Mary had just turned four.
I was outside with Mary, watching her play in the flowers. Her mother, the Queen, was watching from afar. You could say I was Mary's best friend at the time. She looked at me and giggled happily, like everything in the world was fine. I was starting to look more and more like my father now, with my red gold hair and facial features. Of course, no one seemed to notice because I was only eight. Only the Queen, the King, and my dead mother knew at that time. I wouldn't learn until I was 14, and I could wait until then.
"Flowers!" Mary giggled, holding one in her hand. She seemed to be having fun, and I honestly wished I could do the same. She smiled and giggled some more, happy as ever.
I glanced over at the Queen, who was smiling sweetly at her daughter. I had started to notice more of what people looked like, and absorbed every little detail. The Queen had beautiful auburn hair, and wide grey eyes. She was tall, and skinny, and had plenty of wits about her. She had seen me glance over at her, so she smiled back to me.
"Flowers!" giggled Mary, for the fifth time that day. When she was hooked on something, she would stay hooked on it for a while. She looked at me, and stopped giggling. Just for a second. She started to giggle again, this time even louder than before. She knew something. Something that she hadn't known about me until she looked me straight in the eyes. She knew there was something off about me. She knew.
I heard footsteps. I turned to see the man who had created me, Henry VIII. I bowed, like any good subject. "Your Majesty." I said in a quiet voice, acknowlaging his presence.
"Catherine, I'd like to speak to you, alone." he said, his tone of voice sounding quite angry. He and the Queen walked over to a private spot nearby.
About a minute later, he and Catherine came back over, Catherine looking a bit shaken up and Henry looking quite red in the face. Henry stormed away, obviously angry.
"Anna? I need to tell you something." Catherine said in her accented English.
"Yes her Majesty?" I asked, bowing to her.
"You're coming to that age where you must start to do things a servant would do. Henry has appointed you as my servant." she said in a sad voice.
"You mean...no more visits? And...no more friendly conversations?" I asked, my face going from happy to sad.
Catherine nodded. "I am afraid that is very true." she said. "You must now serve me on hand and on foot." she said, her demeanor changing before my eyes.
I sighed. I had never expected this to happen. I thought I lived in the castle because I was special, but I guess I wasn't that special after all. After that news came to me from Henry himself, I knew I'd never be the same again.