Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay. Things have been very busy for me! Welcome to my new fav/follower: SerpentLuna.

Ch. 16

Windsor, St. George's Hall, Feast of the Order of the Garter, 13th May 1537

Laughter filled St. George's Hall as the Feast of the order of the Garter occurred that day. Henry Clifford, the Earl of Cumberland, and Lord Cromwell had filled the vacancies of the chivalric order, all 25 knights wearing a blue velvet mantle with a garter on the left shoulder lined with white sarcenet and scarlet hose with black velvet around the thighs. The collar of the ensemble consisted of 12 Tudor roses set within the blue garters with 12 tasseled knots and a "Great George" jewel. The pendant was of St. George as he slayed the dragon, a most heroic symbol of their precious saint.

There was plenty of drink to go around, the male courtiers buried in their cups for the day. The king was not far off, a merry expression on his face as he mingled with his subjects. He too wore an outfit of blue velvet, though his chain of rubies with the pendant of St. George was more regal than all the others. And to add to the festivities, all nobles were wearing masks and encouraged to wear their most extravagant outfits as an event for the evening. It was almost as if the entire court were putting on a play.

It reminded the courtiers of the days of Queen Katherine when plays and pageants occurred monthly in the palace. It was a time of great joy until the queen's constant miscarriages and stillbirths dampened the spirits of the king. The new queen's pregnancy had reignited that vigor he once held in his youth and when he had been courting Anne. Now it was Jane who sparked his youthful nature according to the court.

"His majesty seems to be in high spirits today," Suffolk spoke to the Marquess of Exeter. The king's supposed favorite cousin nodded at the king's closest friends. They were both linked to the king, but in different ways.

"You know how much the king used to love his playtime," Exeter remarked, chuckling as the king went around in his gold mask. All the courtiers knew it was him, though they pretended not to know. It was an unspoken rule: not until the king unmasked himself would they acknowledge his true identity.

Jane laughed from her position on the dais. She had donned gold colored gown, a crown of sapphires set upon her golden hair. She too wore a mask of cold, her blue eyes peering out in happiness as she watched her husband mingle with his nobles.

"The queen seems content," Suffolk added, though they both knew of the recent situation between Grace and the king. Gossip had spread like wildfire, yet the king was yet to be made aware of the confrontation.

"Should she not be?" Exeter teased, knowing that there was tension between the Duchess of Gloucester and the queen know. There would be a grapple for power over the king, one for the protection of innocent men and the other for her own protection as well as selfish needs. "Your wife is friends with the queen, yes? And the duchess?"

Suffolk nodded, wondering where Exeter was getting at. "You need to choose a side, Suffolk. The queen may be carrying an heir, but the duchess will win out in the end. You'll see." Exeter's point was proven correct when they spotted the king staring intently at one particular woman. Grace had entered the hall, clad in a gown of mauve with a cream underskirt. She wore a a pair of gold earrings with pink gemstones. A gold hair net held her brunette curls while a gold and pearl diadem rested on top. She had a gold mask as well, her green eyes staring back almost cat-like as she strode across the hall.

The queen's eyes then narrowed, leaning over to whisper to her brother Edward. He immediately gave her a stern look instead of rushing to the king's side. "Act as if you see nothing. Sending me to the king will only cause gossip and so will your reaction." A thin line spread across Jane's face as she looked to her other brother, Thomas, for help. He said nothing, heeding his brother's words.

Grace did not approach the king, nor did he head towards her, their eyes connected for a mere moment in a game of catch and mouse. Instead, she made her way towards the Lady Mary who looked the image of perfection in a green gown with a diamond diadem and pearl choker. She wore a green mask, partaking in the activities for the evening.

"Lady Mary," Grace spoke, curtsying deeply to the king's eldest daughter. Mary immediately held her hand out for Grace to rise, the two women holding hands as they kissed each other's cheeks.

"I take it you are partaking in the masque for tonight?" Mary asked Grace, the brunette nodding at her auburn haired friend. "Jane looks as if she's about to kill you," Mary remarked, rolling her eyes at her stepmother's behavior. She couldn't stand the woman after she publicly snubbed Elizabeth. "You must remember to stay behind all the other ladies and not to draw attention to yourself."

"That's why I have the black costume and you the white, Mary." The group of women were going to be portraying ladies of the court of Camelot and the men the knights of the round table. Mary was to be Guinevere and Grace would be Morgause, the dark sister of King Arthur. Other ladies partaking in the festivities would be Elizabeth Seymour, Dorothy Seymour, Winifred Pole, Anne Bassett, Jane Astley, Anne Bray, Margery Horsman, Mary Norris, Mary Zouche, and the Duchess of Suffolk.

Meanwhile, the king himself would lead the men as King Arthur as assumed by the court. The Duke of Suffolk, the Marquess of Exeter, the Earl of Westmorland, the Earl of Cumberland, the Earl of Arundel, Baron Stafford, Baron Dacre, Henry Radcliffe, Arthur Neville, Francis Bryan, and Nicholas Carew. Some were members of the Knights of the Garter while others were merely men of the court.

The chosen courtiers flawlessly disappeared without being seen, only to magically reappear within minutes all wearing their selected costumes with their "names" shown on ribbons attached. The women all wore beautiful gowns of velvet lined with gold and pearls. All but two wore blue, Mary and Grace wearing black and white. The men wore doublets of the same color.

The nobles all lined up, each randomly matched with a partner. Grace giggled as she stared across the floor at her brother. He wiggled her eyebrows at him in jest, the duke and duchess of Suffolk the next in line smiling back at one another. A lively galliard struck up, the dancers taking the steps: right, left, right, left, cadence.

A switch of partners, occurred, Grace now matched with "King Lot," the brother-in-law of King Arthur in legend and Morgause's husband. He too was dressed in black, and his face was harder to distinguish as a gold mask covered his whole face. The lavolta step was performed, a close hold often deemed inappropriate as her partner lifted her into the air. And she knew in an instant that it was the king, the pair twisting around each other as he lowered her to the ground. Their foreheads practically pressed together as Grace inhaled his scent of leather and musk.

Meanwhile, Henry did the same. The light sent of lavender filled his nostrils and he felt intoxicated. Their closeness ended suddenly at the sound of applause, and they were dragged back to reality. "Study. Now," he murmured in a commanding tone. The king maneuvered himself away from Grace effortlessly, grabbing his eldest daughter's hand and showing her off to the court as Grace made her way to the king's study. It was meticulously planned, Grace sneaking into his rooms before anyone noticed.

And while she waited, Grace planned her next move. She hadn't. discussed the men in the tower as she had wanted to. Jane had interrupted that. She wasn't even sure if the king knew. She had collapsed in one of the chairs before the fireplace, her thoughts taking over. Every now and then, she heard a loud commotion from the nobles in the hall, but they couldn't distract her from her inner turmoil.

Henry finally escaped from the jaws of his court, slipping away before the prying eyes of his wife discovered his departure. And when he came to Grace, he was immediately crestfallen. Her flirtatious behavior from earlier was now replaced with anxiety and fear, her eyes flickering at him with dread. She looked as if she was holding her breath, but his appearance did nothing to calm her nerves.

"What's wrong?" Henry voiced, his eyebrows furrowing once again. Grace couldn't decipher whether he was worried or irritated with her.

"I need to return to my husband. He needs me," Grace stated. Her words instantly dampened the king's mood.

"I get us back to a position where our relationship can mend and you bring him up again," Henry replied, his demeanor now one of anger as his cheerful eyes now darkened.

"Our relationship can never be truly mended, Henry. Not when we are married to other people. Not when we have separate lives," Grace retorted, her tongue just as quick as Henry's. "Not when there are innocent men locked in the tower. Until you release them, I will not remain here. I cannot bargain with someone who refuses to discuss the matter with me."

"Then maybe you could make me an offer I can't refuse? Perhaps that will change my mind." It was a low blow and Henry knew it. Grace tensed instantly, his reference to her previous promise now a reminder of not only the manipulation he had over her, but what could have been.

"Why should it matter? You'll just take what you want from me, what you claim you need." Grace returned her gaze back to the fire, ignoring the king as he maneuvered his way around the table of his study to stand in front of her.

"What I need from you," Henry insisted, kneeling before her. He reached for the arms of the chair, gripping them tightly so as to prevent himself from grabbing Grace instead.

"You can't have me. I'm married and by law I belong to my husband." Henry admitted his defeat simply by placing his head in Grace's lap. She couldn't deny him, her hands running through his hair gently as she began to sniffle. She knew the tears would come. She was just waiting for him to utter another declaration.

"No, you're mine. You'll always be mine. I'll be damned if Percy says otherwise. God Grace...I'll do anything to have you." And the tears started to fall, but Henry did not see. He still had his face buried in Grace's lap.

"You can't have me. I'm married and you've locked my husband's brothers in the tower because of your jealousy." Grace's emotions played with each other like a game of tug-o-war. She felt guilt at the betrayal she was feeling towards her husband as she had another man's arms wrapped around. She felt longing for what could have been but also for the gentle caress of her husband's embrace. And despair for the men in the tower who did not deserve their fate.

"Is that what you want me to admit? That I'm jealous?" Henry cupped his hands around Grace's reddened cheeks, wiping the tears away. "Well, I am. He's taken you away from me. I envy him for being your husband, for being the father of your child, for simply breathing. He has what I want."

"What could a daughter do for you?" Grace questioned. She stared up at the king almost defensively. "Besides, your wife is pregnant. Perhaps she will give you your son."

"I could care less for Jane," Henry declared. "I love our child, but I only love her because she will give me a child." Grace felt oddly at ease at his statement, practically smirking inside. She had some satisfaction. "And your daughter... if she had been mine, I wouldn't care. I would love her, cherish her." Grace felt that guilt again build up in her stomach and she changed the subject to divert the attention from her.

"But you need a son. You say that Henry, but your country needs a male heir. You may say one thing, but your ministers think another. You abandoned Catherine to marry Anne. Will you do the same to Jane with the pressure amounting from Cromwell? From your advisors?"

"I made a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life, but it doesn't matter anymore. Anne loves your brother and she's far happier with him than she could be with me. Our marriage would be based on convenience, not love. We would have stayed married because of Elizabeth and yes, perhaps we could have had more children but it's over and done with. We loved each other deeply at one point... but our love was too much for both of us. Once we were married, it was different. It wasn't the same as before," Henry admitted. His first two marriages ended in ruin and his third was not far behind.

"It changed because you wanted her to act like Catherine, not herself. You tried to deprive her of her individuality that you once admired. And now, you control Jane simply because you can. You would do the same to me." Grace chuckled at the irony of it. He would have surely silenced her if she married him. Her attraction lay in the fact he could not have her. "Just because you've admitted your faults does not mean I believe you. You still can't have me."

Henry chuckled darkly, one of his hands cupping Grace's face while the other slid down her neck and rested on her collarbone. "So, you'd deny me even if your husband's brothers are in the tower?" He was baiting her now, his hand now gripping her throat lightly as his eyes darkened in lust. His lips hovered over hers, her green eyes staring back at him in defiance.

"Would you lay a hand on a pregnant woman?" Grace questioned, Henry's eyes widening at her announcement. His hand dropped from her throat, his heart dropping at the quickening of her womb once again. He backed away slightly, studying her for any lies, but he only saw truth in her eyes.

"You're with child, again?" Henry approached her, ever cautious as he laid his hand on her stomach. Meanwhile, Grace had tried to back away from him, moving back so far in her chair. But his touch froze her to the spot. "God is punishing me it seems, giving what I want to someone else. Showing me what I lost." He removed his hand, his eyes still lingering on her belly.

"God has given you a child, a child that Jane carries. He is showing you what you deserve and though you may have your faults, God will still grant you children," Grace stated. She dare not speak further, her tongue loosening at his pitiful display. She could not reveal Rosalind's existence.

"He may still bless me with the gift of being a father, but he does not give me what I truly desire," Henry replied. He wanted her. He would always want her. She was the one thing he never truly possessed.

"You have to let me go, Henry. Let me go home to my husband. Let me be with him." Henry could only nod, his back to Grace when she rose from her chair in front of the fireplace. She placed her hand in the middle of his back, gently touching the fabric of his doublet as if it were a farewell. And it was. It was a goodbye to what they had been and a greeting to who they now were.

Windsor 15th May 1537

Darcy, Aske, Constable, and the Percy brothers were all declared guilty of treason, Grace fleeing from court as the news was spread across London. Darcy and Constable were to be executed along with Thomas Percy, Ingelram Percy would be locked in the tower, and Aske would be hung, drawn, and quartered, fates none of the men deserved.

Henry sat deep in thought, Grace's words repeating in his head once more. It was ironic how he had been in the same position two years before when Thomas More had been sentenced to death. His conscience, nevertheless, persuaded by Grace, had convinced him that More was indeed loyal to him, but his loyalty would be to God first. He believed the same, answering only to God and not the Pope as he had during his early years of kingship.

"Your majesty must be satisfied with the decision made against those traitors?" Cromwell questioned. "They deserve their punishments," he added, drawing a look of discontent from Suffolk who had been invited to the meeting. After all, he had been the one ordered to disband the rebels and hang them in front of their families.

"Satisfaction is not the word I would use, Master Cromwell," Suffolk spoke, Cromwell narrowing his eyes at his opponent. Suffolk seemed to be aligned with the Nevilles now, much to the chagrin of the king's Lord Privy Seal.

"They are traitors to the crown." Cromwell's tone was harsh, as if he could not be opposed. But he was not the king who rolled his eyes at the stand-off between the men closest to him.

"It is done. The men have been served justice." Cromwell and Suffolk were both silenced by the king's words, neither daring to speak now. They were saved by the arrival of servant, announcing that Arthur Neville requested an audience. Intrigued, the king agreed.

Arthur Neville entered the room, his insides filled with apprehension and fear at what the king would say. He was there to ask for Elizabeth Seymour's hand in marriage, something his father didn't even know. He halted at the sight of Cromwell and Suffolk, neither rising to leave the room. His courage faltered, much like his tongue did. He couldn't even speak. He merely bowed to the king.

"What can I help you with?" the king questioned, smirking at the youngest Neville's behavior. It was amusing how Arthur's eyes darted between him and his guests before turning back to the king.

Arthur immediately was knocked out of his stupor, a serious expression appearing on his face. "Majesty, I wish to ask for your permission to marry."

"Marry, Lord Neville?" Henry pushed, taking a sip of wine from his chalice. He was enjoying this, his sour mood at Grace's departure now disappearing.

"Yes, majesty. I wish to marry someone I love and she the same," Arthur declared, hoping his pitiful plea was enough to convince the king to agree.

"And who is this mysterious woman who has stolen your heart?" the king joked, unaware of the chaos that would ensue.

"Elizabeth Seymour, your majesty." Henry's laughing stopped instantly, his eyes staring up at Arthur with mercifulness. He loved a woman he could not have unless the king accept his request. The Seymour family would never allow it. They would marry her off to a loyal ally. And doing so, Arthur would be miserable for the rest of his life. Would he be doomed as well to watch the woman he loved be with another?

"Majesty, this is nonsense. He cannot marry the Seymour girl. She is sister to the queen and therefore her brothers should ask you for permission for who she should marry. This is an insult to your majesty," Cromwell stated angrily. He would not have the Neville boy ruining his plans for his son to marry Elizabeth Seymour. "We have already agreed that she is to marry my son."

"Let the boy speak, Cromwell," Suffolk spoke, cutting off Cromwell's rant. "He is as fit a husband as any other suitor. I would say he is the best match for her." Suffolk earned a grateful look from Arthur, Cromwell seething behind him.

"It has been decided that she will marry Gregory Cromwell…" the king muttered, Arthurs shoulders dropping in defeat, "But I see no reason why she should not marry someone of noble birth, especially if she has developed a fondness for you." A broad smile broke out on Arthur's face, and he kneeled before the king in gratitude.

"I thank your majesty for his kindness and understanding. I shall never forget your generosity towards my wish." Arthur kissed the king's outstretched hand in reverence, making his leave with the king's wave of his hand. Suffolk and Cromwell dare not speak, the expression on the king's face preventing them from speaking.

Henry was in his own world, contemplating his actions. He had granted Cromwell's son permission to marry Elizabeth Seymour, yet he faltered at the appeal of Arthur Neville. Somehow, the youngest Neville reminded him of himself, if he had allowed himself to run after Grace. He would not stand in the way of true love, not when he denied to himself.

Newington Green

"Grace will be here soon," Richard spoke to his brother-in-law, cradling his niece in his arms as he visited with the Percy family. He had been called to Henry Percy's bedside, alarmed at the urgency of the request. He thought the man had been on his deathbed, but when he arrived, he had been mistaken.

However, Percy was not far from death with his breathing shallow and his complexion starting to yellow. His smile did not reach his eyes and he often broke out in coughing fits. Only Rosalind could soothe his soul. "I need you to do something for me, Richard. You and Anne." He gestured to his bedside table, a letter resting on the mahogany wood.

Curiously, Richard placed Rosalind in the heirloom Percy cradle before examining the letter. It had the Percy seal on it, the letter closed with melted wax. But that was not what surprised him. The letter was addressed to the king with a particular date listed: Rosalind's first birthday. "What is this for?" Richard questioned.

"I think you know," Percy responded, giving Richard a knowing look. "The king needs to know about his daughter. If Grace does not tell him beforehand, I ask you to deliver this letter on Rosalind's first birthday. It will bring me much comfort to know my letter is in safe hands and that they will both be taken care of."

"You don't think this should be Grace's decision?" Richard had a firm stance when it came to his only sister, but he faltered because of Percy's condition.

"I know she will reveal the truth when the time is right. This is just a precaution," Percy joked, his eyes darting to Rosalind. He absolutely adored the child, though she was not his own. It didn't matter. She was his daughter to him.

"I will do as you ask Hal, even if I must bear the consequences." It would be a secret, the last task of Henry Percy. He would not leave his quest unaccomplished. Once he was gone from this Earth, he would leave his mark. Even if Grace hated him for it, she would come to understand his reasons. Grace Neville would not suffer; His wife would not incur the wrath of the king. He would make sure of it.

Windsor 27th May 1537

It had been heard by the king that Francois would go into Italy, his war with Spaniards still occurring. The Emperor was already doing such, his army descending on Fontarabia if not already. The Pope had sent a cardinal at the end of April to negotiate peace between the Emperor, the King, and the Pope and yet the discussion of England was also mentioned. The desecration of the holy churches and the plight of the poor churchmen who had been reduced to poverty was a great sin to the Pope. While Henry saw it as a reformation, the Pope saw it as destruction of the house of God.

And the king's nephew, the King of Scots, was also against England. He sided with his father-in-law who feared the English turning against the French. Gascony, Guienne, and Normandy are without troops, which are in Picardy, Provence and Bresse. The French King had retired himself from war out of Artois, his army on its way to disassembling. The Turk's ambassador awaited him in Lyons.

Meanwhile, the king had written to Bryan and Gardiner, commanding them to have Cardinal Pole thrown out of Cambrai. Sir Francis Bryan had declared he would kill the cardinal with his bare hands if he did not return to England with them. And the Poles had reason enough to send a warning to their brother, but they did not.

Instead, Lord Montague had kneeled himself before the king and pledged his loyalty to the king, his brother Gregory as well. Although Gregory begrudgingly did so. It was the only way to protect themselves against the wrath of the king. Henry remembered the words clearly, the occurrence happening days ago.

"I pledge by loyalty to your majesty and renounce Cardinal Pole as my brother. He is a traitor to this realm and a traitor to our family. We have cut all ties with him and live to serve your majesty." The declaration was made in the audience chamber, in front of the whole court it seemed. Henry sat back in his throne; the room silent as he pondered the statement. Warwick and More stood in the hall as well, Henry studying them. He knew at least Warwick was behind their newfound fidelity. More only came to court at the order of the king or if his brother-in-law begged him. The friend of the king was ever cautious. His eyes glanced at Henry, his head bowing and his eyes then lowering when he realized the king was watching them.

"And I will accept your pledge to me, my lords. You are members of the true faith, and I am glad you have admitted the error of your brother's way." The king motioned for the two Poles to rise, embracing each in a hug of brotherhood and friendship. "My men shall capture Reginald and bring him to justice soon." Lord Montague could only nod, his brother tightening his fists in anger. He didn't dare utter a word. Their family would be safe now, much to Cromwell's ire.

"Now gentlemen, let's celebrate the quickening of my wife's womb!" All the courtiers let out shouts of joy, the queen having felt her child kick for the first time that Trinity Sunday. The announcement had been made at St. Paul's Cathedral and bonfires were lit throughout London. Windsor was alive with excitement, a banquet held for the queen's news.

Jane was ecstatic, her husband fawning over her at the new that their child had shown life in her womb. He was convinced the child was strong, grinning madly when she had placed his hand on her stomach and the babe kicked. Her jealousy of Anne Bassett being her husband's mistress faded at the happiness she saw on Henry's face. Perhaps she could persuade him to remove her when her child was born, but that was if the child was a male heir.

Newington Green 1st June 1537

Grace had returned to her husband's side, abandoning the king once more. And though she was happy to be reunited with Percy, she was saddened by his failing condition. At first sight, Percy was smiling his usual boyish smile, but as she neared his bedside, Grace could see the toll his illness was taking on his body. His lips were cracked, tinted with blood. His eyes held a pain unknown to her with dark circles. His face was sullen, and no color was in his cheeks. He was almost at death's door.

"Hal," Grace murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead before grabbing his hand in hers. Percy laid back on his pillows, admiring his wife's beauty. She looked radiant in the beginning stages of her pregnancy, Grace informing him of her new in a recent letter while she was still at court.

"You are not yet showing," Percy responded, gesturing to her stomach which showed no sign of child. She had easily returned to her previous size after Rosalind's birth, many women not having the same luxury.

"I will by the end of summer," Grace spoke cheerfully. Yet, her heart felt heavy at the fact that her husband may not live to see the season's change. She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, Percy noticing his wife's mood abruptly changing. Her eyes instantly became teary while Percy comforted her as best he could, but one of his coughing fits began and he had to remove his hand from his wife's. Covering his face with a handkerchief, the cloth was blood-soaked in seconds. With his strength exhausted, he let his pillows absorb him as he weakly fell back into his bed.

"I must tell you something," Percy all but whispered.

"You must not speak. You must save your strength my love," Grace replied in a worried manner. She did not want him to overexert himself, but it seemed even speaking affected him.

"No," Percy disagreed. "This is of the utmost importance." He gestured towards the door, Grace not understanding his meaning. A maid appeared, guiding a young girl towards them. She gave Percy a curious look, wondering exactly why this was important. It wasn't until the girl stood in front of them that she realized she was a replica of Percy. With her golden hair and cornflower blue eyes, she was an exact copy of her husband. Anger built inside her belly at the hidden truth.

"Grace, this is my daughter, Isabel."

A/N: Comments?