The letter was crumpled up on the table beside him, unread, uncared for. King Henry was playing his usual games. He was devouring into his new mistress. It was hard to find a beauty like her with glistening hazel eyes enticing him with every glance. Her blonde waves were soft to the touch and Henry couldn't have enough of her pale, smooth, porcelain skin. But he had to be careful. His wife wasn't like every other woman that he knew. His wife was Anne Boleyn. And his mistress wasn't any young girl; it was the queen's cousin. Henry didn't want to deal with his strong-headed wife's loud tantrums. But a part of him also loved his wife enough to desire not to hurt her. Any wife would not only be threatened, but be exceedingly hurt after they found out that their husband was after their prettier and much younger cousin.

Katherine Howard was enjoying every second of her association with the King of England. She always wanted to be queen, be the fairest of them all, enjoying exquisite jewels and the softest fur. Katherine wanted it all and she wanted to beat anyone that came her way even if it was her very own cousin. She loved competition. It thrilled her. The conquest of winning the crown was even more exciting. It enticed her like a moth to her flame. But will this moth rise or will its fragile wings burn, unable to take the heat, just like many moths before her? Katherine was sure that when the King was tired of Anne Boleyn, he would throw her away just like his wife of long years before her. Her game would be to entice him, give him great passion but not quite giving him what he wanted. Slightly like the game Anne Boleyn played, but much more thrilling. And if she was lucky, Anne Boleyn wouldn't be able to present the King with a son, and the young maiden that lay underneath the King would replace her, instantly.

"You cannot be a lady-in-waiting to the queen"

"Why not Your majesty?" Katherine squealed.

"I do not wish for the queen to feel threatened by you or of our union. You can however be a lady-in-waiting to my daughter, the Princess Elizabeth."

"Thank you, your majesty. I would love to. It would be my pleasure to serve your daughter, the princess Elizabeth."

Instantly, Thomas Culpepper entered the room and what caught his eye created a flame inside him, a flame which could one day destroy him. But he wouldn't let the beauty of his King's new mistress stop him from telling him of the dreadful news that his ears had come upon.

"What is it that brings you here, Thomas," the king roared.

"It's the Princess of Wales, Katherine. She passed away. She wrote you a letter before death, on her deathbed."

The king grabbed the letter and ordered both of his courtier and mistress to leave him alone at once.

The King dropped on the floor, too shocked to even think. He simply ripped out the letter and started reading.

Dear Henry,

I'm suffering in my deathbed right now. I lay here and the only thing that brings me pleasure and soothes my mind are my memories of you. They were so beautiful. You fought against all of your family to marry me. You loved me as did I. You were the love of my life. You were kind and gentle with me. And I still believe you to be a kind and humble man. It is simply the ways of the world which made you harsh.

I miss the moments which you and I and our precious daughter had shared together when we were a family. All was well then. Our precious daughter had everything but now she is lowered to a status of a bastard. She is only a servant now, and if you are still the kind man that I married, I believe that you still care for our daughter. I believe, I could be of no help to our daughter but I believe in my heart that you will be. Please be a good father to Mary. She has nobody and she needs her father in her life or she will be shattered.

I know that my death will be coming in a few minutes. But I shall not return to the Lord with out preaching the truth. And you know the truth very well as do I. I just wanted to remind you. I love you and I always will with all of my heart.

Your Love,

Katherine of Aragon

Tears were rushing down Henry's flustered cheeks. His memories of the past were killing him, inch by inch. He couldn't believe that the woman that he loved for so many years was dead. That was the end of her. After that, he would never see or hear from her again. He knew he had done wrong to her but he never once thought that this would be the result to his actions. The truth was that he loved her. He just wasn't in love with her. She had grown wrinkled and old at a quite early age and he simply didn't want her anymore. That was why he cast her aside. But he would never want this for her. Not Katherine of all people.

Then his eyes caught something else. It was a crumpled up envelope which lay on the tiny table beside his bed. He quickly remembered that it was a letter from his daughter; a letter from his and Katherine's daughter. He yanked the letter off the table, ripped it open and read with wide eyes.

He couldn't believe what he read. He was raging with guilt. He threw both the letters away from him and was hurting like a little boy whose world just crumbled apart. His former wife at least acknowledged what they once had. His stubborn daughter didn't even acknowledge him as father. She came to believe that her father wanted her out of his life for good. And she was willing to give her father exactly what he wanted in exchange for one last meeting with her mother. But he couldn't even provide her with that. Henry was too busy thinking that both women would plot against him to oblige to any of his daughter's needs.

That night, Henry simply sat there for two hours thinking about his memories with Katherine, and his memories with Mary. He was remembering his former family. He felt empty and hollow inside. Now all that was left of his family was his unfamiliar, grown-up daughter who did not even choose to recognise him as her father just as he didn't wish to recognise her as legitimate. And the woman who kept his kingdom and family together was dead. The woman died a slow and painful death, bearing not only physical pain but also of emotional pain; the emotional pain of losing her husband, of never getting the pleasure of seeing her daughter. And it was his fault. He had ruined his family with his own two hands.

He chained her hands. She looked deeply into his eyes, devouring every glimpse, getting lost in the depths of mystery in them. He smirked and his eyes glistened at the reflection of the fair maiden that lay in front of him. She wanted to let herself free from his dominating grasp. But she couldn't. Not only was her body captivated by this alluring monster, but so was her mind.

He bent down and she shivered, trembling before his lips could even touch her enticing, smooth skin. As his lips touched her pale, fragile neck, her body aching for his touch moved upward to his.

"Easy there," he whispered enticingly to her ears.

She released herself from her deep hunger. She couldn't get seduced by him. She couldn't. He would bring her to her death. She was sure of it.

"I want you just as much as you want me. Just be patient. I'll make you feel like you never felt before."

"Please set me free. I don't want to be here."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she whispered coldly.

He set her free, released her from her chains and she ran. She ran for her life. She ran as fast as she could. She didn't stop once to look back. She knew she would once again get lured in by those eyes; those eyes of an impostor. His eyes were watching her intently as a smirk formed across his face as to know that his beloved would come running back to him, once again.

She was being yanked by guards. One guard held one arm and the other held her other arm. Her corset had changed to a beautiful, graceful gown. She had a crown on her head and her chestnut hair was up in an elegant bun. Her eyes which you would think would show happiness of being free form an impostor, showed a great depth of fear. She looked at the people underneath her watching her intently, some with sorrow, others with pleasure. Then she spotted eyes that looked so familiar that she could swear she knew them once. But perhaps she did in another life. She realized that she was going to coldly, ruthlessly, be murdered. She yanked her arms free at once. She was surprised at her sudden strength; the same strength that pushed the guards to the ground with great force.

Then she ran as fast as she could. Her hair fell free, instantly from the grasps of the clip that held her bun in place. Her chestnut hair was swaying down to her waist, moving back and forth, and flashing brightly at the sun rays. Her crown fell off and crumbled into pieces. She shot a smile. This wasn't just any smile. It was a smile of pride. She knew she was better than everyone else and she was much more powerful whether she ruled over them or not. She was faster, fiercer, and stronger and no one could change that.

Her fear was replaced with curiosity; curiosity of how she possibly could even possess such power; such strength. She ran until she entered a luxurious mansion. It was beautiful and it certainly would be all hers. When she followed a trail of rose petals and a deep, earthy aroma, she came to find the impostor, once again.

"I knew you would be back, my love. You and me, we are bounded together by a greater force and no matter what you do, you cannot escape me. No matter what you do, you can never run from me. If you do, you'd only come running back."

With that remark, he grabbed her waist and all of a sudden, all of her strength, and power subsided. And it only took just one touch. She stared keenly into his eyes, mesmerized as she devoured into the depths of mystery that contained her heart. He looked into her, with just as much passion, while his skilled hands loosened her bodice. Her dress fell to the floor. He growled at what he saw. He hungrily devoured the sight of the beautiful nymph that lay before him stripped off of every cloth that could cover her.

He then kissed her neck, slowly but passionately. He wanted to make her yearn for him, just as much as he did while she was gone. So he teased her. He tangled his hands behind her back, slowly. And it had worked. She trembled under his soft touch. He put a strand of her hair behind her ears, taking in her stunning face. He went forward to kiss her with all of the hunger that he felt for her. And she replicated every feeling that he felt. He put her on the bed and started devouring her neck, slowly feeling the pleasure of every touch that came upon his lips. His hands wandered through her breathless body and her body shivered against his touch. This beautiful butterfly was finally tamed and it enjoyed every bit of it. His lips moved again to her swollen, red lips. They passionately kissed but eventually broke it off to catch air.

Mary finally woke off panting for air. The dream had felt so real. It was so vivid, so clear. It was so absurd how she felt every single emotion and every single touch as if it was not a dream, but a memory. She couldn't believe that she was having such impure dreams. But the truth was that she was changing, day by day; changing into a person she never knew.

Sorry you guys, I know it's a pretty short chapter compared to the one before. But I just had to get the dream that I thought for John and Mary out. I also didn't have a lot of time on my hands this week. Hope you enjoy.