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

A/N: Hello everyone! Another chapter for you all. I ask that you all be prepared. This is a big chapter and some of you may be torn! Thank you to all my new favs/followers: yuric09, sexyevilempress276, the real chosen 1, Kaahh R-Silva, AbsractImriel, kuromangetsu, MythicalDream, Mar'sha Smith, WideAwake94, LPeck, AlbeeLane, phonix-grace, Dcrawford84, selly98, sessysbaby666, Queen-996, SugarSpice87, Tatum Grimes, joker567, mejnounmaryam53, yuric09, and Archergirl78.

Ch. 12

And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Richard (Act 1, Scene 1)

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.

Richard (Act 5, Scene 3)

Warwick Castle 13 February 1537

Each contraction made Grace cry out in pain, her mouth dry and her throat gasping as she tried to wrestle with her child attempting to enter the world. Every push made her body spasm, the force from her own body frightening her. She saw as the maids kept removing bloody clothes from the bed, her eyes filled with fear that the blood was not a sign from giving birth but that her body itself might be bleeding out.

"Don't look at them. Concentrate Grace," Anne whispered encouragingly as she held Grace's hand tightly. Her own babe would be there within a month or two, but she had experienced the pain of giving birth as well as miscarriages. She was just as scared for she wouldn't want anyone to go through what she had in carrying a baby and then losing it. Grace was strong and she had carried her child to term. The hard part was finding the strength to continue even when the pain was agonizing.

"Just a few more pushes," the midwife called out. Grace grit her teeth, pushing with all her might so that the pain would end. She pushed three times more, her body finally able to bring the child into the world.

The child's cries filled the room, the midwife cooing at the child. The women let out relieved sighs that their mistress has given birth. Grace's body released all the stress it has been carrying and she laid back from her sitting position to relax as she waited for her child to be put into her arms. She smiled at her child's cry, eagerly awaiting to see if it was a boy or a girl. But unbeknownst to her, Anne froze at the sight of the child.

Not that the child was unhealthy for its cries indicated its strength and the body had no evident deformities. Anne was certain the babe was perfect just as her Elizabeth was. And it wasn't the gender of the child that concerned her. It was a girl and Percy did not care what sex the child was, as long as it was healthy. What bothered Anne was the fact that the baby had a head of flaming red curls, the same as her Elizabeth. The same as the king. Grace has given the king a daughter just as she had, the link between them never able to be forgotten.

Anne released Grace's hand nervously, sending the maids to tend to Grace while she made her way hurriedly to the midwife. "I would ask that you hurry tending to the child so that her mother can have some privacy with her." Her tone was sharp and commanding, the midwife sending her a quizzical expression as she nodded her head and followed her orders, handing a swaddled baby over to Anne when she was finished. She left the room swiftly, the maids following behind her as she informed Percy and the rest of the family about the baby.

"Anne, can I see my baby now?" Grace questioned weakly from her bed. She had been changed from her soiled nightgown to a clean one, her body washed as best as it could, and the bed sheets under her were now fresh and clean. She was still in a daze after the pain but was glad her child had been a priority and had been examined first before she was tended to.

"You have a daughter, Grace...a beautiful little girl," Anne explained. Grace beamed happily at the news; her arms outstretched as she waited for her daughter to be put in her arms. Cautiously, Anne handed the baby to Grace, the red hair hidden under swaddling cloths. Grace was completely enamored, thinking her child had to be the most beautiful one she had ever seen as all mothers do. She had a perfect button nose, the most charming eyes, her cheeks were slightly tinged pink which gave her an angelic glow.

"But..." Anne faltered, Graces eyes wandering from her child's face to Anne's. Anne didn't know how to tell Grace that her child was not Percy's and she didn't know how she would react to the fact that fate once more pushed her towards the arms of Henry Tudor.

"What is it? Is something wrong with her? Did the midwife say something?" Grace asked worriedly. She rapidly scanned the child for any problems, her hand slightly pulling down the cloth from her small head. And then she realized what was wrong, gasping at the shock of red hair her daughter possessed.

"No...no, no, no!" Grace cried, shaking her head frantically at the realization. Her behavior was upsetting her daughter, Anne quickly taking the child from her arms as Grace began to cry erratically. She brought her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them before settling on her side and burying her face into her pillow.

Percy had burst into the room at his wife's sounds, a confused look on his face when he saw Anne cradling the child in her arms and Grace sobbing on their bed. Anne approached him silently, a look of caution on her face. Percy's face softened at the sight of the baby; his arms outstretched to receive her.

"It's a girl," Anne mentioned softly, her eyes darting back to Grace with a hint of sorrow.

"And that is why she's upset? I have no quarrel with having a daughter," Percy replied, smiling at the child who looked up at him innocently. He gently stroked her cheek, his heart melting at the babe.

"That's not why, Hal." Anne pulled down the blanket from the baby's head once more, Percy's stomach twisting into knots when he saw the recognizable tinge of red hair peeking out at him. He was at a loss of words, his eyes now staring at his wife's defensive figure as she curled into a ball, her cries wracking her body. She was ashamed of herself, that much was proven by her behavior towards him and her daughter.

"I have failed you…" Grace whispered in despair, "Given you another man's child to pass off as your own. Its unforgivable."

"No, don't you dare say that nonsense," Percy responded, a hint of disappointment in his voice from hearing his wife's statement. He stared down at the child in his arms. He held no resentment for her. She was his child just as much as she was the king's. And he was completely enamored by her, her darling eyes capturing his attention from the moment he laid his cornflower blue orbs on her. He made his way towards Grace, giving out a weak cough as he sat down besides her. Grace's eyes flickered with concern for her husband's illness before filling with disgust once more.

"Please don't," Grace begged. "Please don't come near me. I have betrayed you. I have dishonored you in the worse way possible." She started sobbing again, her anxiety overtaking her as her mind was filled with what would happen to her. Percy would certainly cast her out and ask for a divorce. She would be ruined. She had birthed the king another bastard. Surely her husband would not stand for the insult towards him or his family now.

"Grace, please end this nonsense and look at your daughter. Our daughter," Percy voiced, holding his arms out towards his wife. His words encouraged her, Grace turning on her side to see her husband cradling her daughter in his arms.

"You promise…you promise that you aren't mad at me?" Grace questioned, looking at Percy with such hope that it slightly broke his heart to see her that way.

"This is not your fault. This is God's doing and if he has decided this is the outcome of your pregnancy, I will not quarrel with him. And I will not be angry with you. I knew of your past and I accept this wholeheartedly. She is my child just as much as she is the king's and I will raise her as my own," Percy declared. It was in that moment that Grace truly understood why she loved her husband, why she chose him over the king. She cried though it was happy tears more than ones of anger and she reached out to take her daughter in her arms.

"We shall have to pick a name for her," Percy stated, reaching for his daughter's tiny hand and smiling as she grasped it tightly. Grace nodded, brushing her hand across her child's head ever so slightly as she watched them with curious eyes.

"Rosalind," Grace announced. "I want to name her Rosalind, from the Latin phrase rosa linda meaning beautiful rose." Grace had spent several days going over names with Percy and Rosalind had been stuck in her mind like glue. They had considered Catherine after Percy's mother and Anne for her own mother as well as closet companion, but Rosalind was her choice.

"Then Rose it shall be," Percy declared, pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead in agreeance. A sigh of relief emerged from Percy's lips, Anne's as well as she watched the whole exchange. She silently left the room to the couple some privacy, meeting her husband and in-laws in the hall.

"It's a girl," Anne murmured, her husband's arm coming to wrap around her.

"Why that is excellent news!" Warwick exclaimed. "Why on earth was she crying though?" All of his sons had the same confused expression on their faces as well as More's who studied Anne's behavior. There was a reason for his niece's cries. There was a reason why Anne was not as excited as she should have been.

"The child…the child is not Percy's," Anne declared, all their faces turning to shock at her announcement. "The child is the king's daughter." Anne felt Richard's hand tighten around her side, her worried eyes connecting with her husband's.

"The king's? How can you be sure?" More questioned sternly. Warwick coukd not respond, his eyes darting from Anne to his daughter's chamber and back again. He hoped it was a mistake, that perhaps Anne was only considering the scenario that Grace could in fact have caried the king's and not Percy's child to term. They all knew of Grace's relations with the king, they just hadn't expected such an answer. And More was sure that if the king were to discover such a thing, it would give him another reason to continue his pursuit of his niece.

"Her hair," Anne answered. "It is red just like Elizabeth's. It is uncanny how similar they look. I know I am not wrong. I would not say such a thing if I was not sure."

"Of course, you wouldn't," Richard reasoned, sending his uncle an irritated look. "Let us retire. You must be exhausted after staying up with Grace." Richard escorted his wife away from his male relatives, the others following suit as they left their uncle and father to discuss such a matter.

"We shall not tell the king," Warwick stated. "He does not need to know about this."

More sent his brother-in-law an incensed look, never being one to lose his temper. "Not tell his majesty? Are you mad? Do you have any idea the consequences we could all face if we keep this a secret? We would be greatly punished."

"And Grace will forever be in the king's gaze if we tell him. Do you know what this would do to her? To my grandchild? The king would maintain control over their lives forever. Can you even imagine how scared she is right now? Percy is the only one who can console her right now. And thank God he is not abandoning my daughter. He could cast her aside if he wanted to, but he won't because he loves her." Warwick was only concerned for the welfare of his daughter. He would not have her shackled to the king, her reputation ruined and the king holding her life above her head.

"The king would not have her be reduced to such a standard. You and I both know he values her above all things. And though I understand your concern, he would claim the child as his own and provide for her." More was sure the king would protect Grace and her daughter at all costs. He would not deny the child. How could he?

"But would he take my granddaughter away? Would he force Percy to leave his wife so he could have her to himself?" Warwick asked. That was his priority. He would not sacrifice his daughter's happiness and security because of the danger of keeping such a secret. Their lives would come first, not his.

"The king has morals, but even I would question them in the face of such a revelation." More knew the king better than anyone. He mentored him in his earlier years, was in confidant in all things until his almost execution. The king still sought hos advise, though Cromwell still maintained a higher power over him.

"Then we shall say nothing. That decision will be left up to Grace and her alone." Warwick's decision was final and More would not dare to disagree. It was niece's choice to tell the king and no one else. He only hoped her decision would not affect her happiness.

Chateau de Compiegne 20 February 1537

Francois and James had both been written to by his Holiness, asking both kings to speak to Cardinal Reginald Pole who was being sent to England as a legate. He desired for France to make peace with the Emperor instead of continuing their war. François just scoffed at the letter, shaking his head at the demand.

"To think that his Holiness would ask for me to make peace with that monster after everything he has done to me. I am insulted." James could only nod his head at his father-in-law's words though he too desired peace. "I will do no such thing. My men recently captured an Aragonese ship filled with malmseys, silks, and camlets. It is pure bounty in my opinion. For every hit the Emperor delivers, I will strike a hundred times harder. I will not show him mercy for he has shown none to me."

"I understand your qualms against the Spaniards, but I have none as they have done nothing to me," James spoke openly, Francois' jaw clenching at such a response. "I only wish for the good Christian princes to be reconciled so that we may unite against the infidels. And though I only dislike the Emperor for his fight against you, I abhor the English more. They have denied my passage through England as I make my way home with Madeline. It seems as if our dear Henry is running openly to ruin. His excommunication is near. The Pope can only withstand his behavior for so long."

"You realize I am negotiating with the English about the marriage of the Duke of Orléans to Princess Mary. Henry would not refuse my request, only yours." James's face immediately turned red, Francois frowning at his son-in-law's inexperience with politics. He was young and had much to learn from his counselors about which princes to conduct peace with. "Henry only refuses because of your country's history with England. You Scots have been known to cause only havoc when crossing English borders. I will deal with Henry. You focus on Madeline."

Francois was least concerned with Henry's behavior towards James, uncle and nephew never getting along on the world stage. The dowager queen Margaret was always complaining of her son's behavior to her brother, her current husband abusing his position. James favored his stepfather, doing nothing to prevent the abuse. That was his first offence against Henry, the second being that he was a Scot. "So, you will not consider the Pope's offer of peace?" James questioned.

"I cannot refuse, but I will not accept." Francois intently scrutinized James's manners towards his Holiness. He had recently drawn up plans to invade Artois which he had surrendered in 1526. He would not abandon them just because of the Pope.

James begged for the Pope's guidance, practically worshipped him at his feet for his higher goodness and virtue. He would not displease him and would wholeheartedly give his effort in support of Rome in whatever the Pope asked of him. "You would do well not to grovel like some dog at his Holiness. You are the Pope's servant, but you are also a king. Do not let him control everything you do. You have your own mind, your own voice. For God's sake, maintain control over yourself."

Francois was slightly embarrassed by James's devotion to his Holiness. A king should never rely solely on the guidance of the Pope but should seek the advice of his counselors and other princes of Europe. He only hoped James would not be rash in any decisions regarding his daughter.

Westminster 25 February 1537

The king and Cromwell were surrounded by various papers, the king's eyes scanning each document whether it concerned domestic or international affairs. Cromwell busied himself more with the reformation though one letter had caught his eye. It was written in the hand of Reginald Pole, the newly made Cardinal now an enemy to his progress and the king.

"Your cousin has written to your majesty about the council's letter to him and I must say, I am quite disappointed," Cromwell remarked.

"Any why are you in such a mood, Cromwell? What exactly did he say?" the king asked, tired of his cousin's moves against him. Reginald Pole was a thorn in his side, the bane of his existence for the moment.

"He is upset that we have not accepted his position as Cardinal and states that he has not dishonored you by speaking against your reaction to the rebellion. He says he values your honor and goodness above all else, that when you divorced the dowager princess, he favored your side. He declares he is not your enemy just because he has accepted the Pope's decision to be a Cardinal. He speaks on your behalf daily to the Pope, even though you have offended him greatly in that you are his only son who has strayed from his guidance. He believes his Holiness shows love to our country for he has been included in the Council of Christendom. And finally, he asks to entreat with us either in Flanders or in France," Cromwell read, noticing the king becoming more and more tense as he spoke.

"Majesty, we must act quickly. I fear his brother, the Baron Montagu, will join forces with his brother. I have heard that he conspires with the Marquess of Exeter," Cromwell stated further.

"Let us not speak of the traitor any further. I have already asked for Gardiner and Sir Francis Bryan to demand the arrest of my cousin when he reaches France, whenever that may be. If Francis is my true brother and prince, he will do as I ask. As for his brother and Exeter, they would not betray me. Let us continue with other topics, Cromwell." Henry continued. He needed to get Pole off his mind and focus on more important matters at hand.

With the publication of The Bishops Book at the beginning of the year, Henry had allowed the emphasize of faith without accepting Lutheran doctrine that Cromwell and Cranmer were both pushing for. Henry would not fully abandon Catholicism though he had broken from the Catholic Church. He approved of old practices though he had condemned the actions of the rebels who marched against him in support of the old faith. "Lord Norfolk has been dissolving the monasteries in the North in your majesty's name. We have been investigating the involvement of Robert Aske, Lord Darcy, and several others in the most recent rebellion in your majesty's realm…"

"No more about the rebellion, Cromwell. How are negotiations proceeding for the Lady Mary's hand in marriage?" Henry was direct with his request, his eyes slightly narrowing when Cromwell showed a glimpse of his displeasure. He said nothing and let Cromwell continue, though the man was hesitant.

"The Lady Mary, your majesty? Should you not be more concerned with the containment of the rebels and foreign enemies? She is not your legitimate daughter, and the queen will surely…" The king cut off Cromwell once more, making his discontent known this time.

"I'm asking about the Lady Mary because she is my main priority now. Does the queen appear pregnant? Do you think she will miraculously become pregnant soon? From what I've heard, my previous relationships with the ladies of the court are preventing my wife from becoming pregnant," Henry said sarcastically, chuckling at the accusation. He knew all the rumors about his sexual appetite. He would not deny them. He had been a womanizer in his younger days and he a had a mistress now. But his wife's inability had nothing to do with his infidelity to her.

"Gossip, majesty. You must not listen to such things," Cromwell remarked.

"Oh, I don't. But I do hate when one of my servants speaks about my daughter in such a displeasing way. If the queen does not have a child, my daughters will be placed back into the line of succession. From my understanding, Francois demands just that for a marriage to be arranged. But only Parliament can approve such a thing. And if France dictates that as a condition for marriage, the Emperor will do just the same," Henry relayed. He was getting more and more irritated as Cromwell disagreed with him.

"Your majesty must have hope that the queen will deliver healthy children. She is young and your majesty must give her more time," Cromwell replied. He was still confident Jane would give the king a child, though his faith was lacking as of late. There were still no signs of a pregnancy and with knowledge of her previous miscarriage, he became increasingly worried day by day. "You should not have such favor over the Lady Mary."

"Cromwell, you are certainly trying my patience today," Henry said with a chuckle. Cromwell nervously swallowed as his king continued to speak. "Mary was legitimate, was my only child until I divorced Catherine and married Anne. Then Mary was declared a bastard and Elizabeth as my legitimate daughter. And after your so-called findings about the late queen, my marriage to Anne was annulled and Elizabeth also declared illegitimate. Now many suitors are vying for the Lady Mary's hand, an alliance that would strengthen my rule and you are asking me to cast aside that decision."

"Majesty, I do no such thing. I merely think the Lady Mary has been in conversation with the Emperor and that she will do anything in her power to convince you of her hand in marriage to the Emperor's candidate. She is inclined towards a Spanish alliance because her mother," Cromwell muttered in defense.

"I have already spoken to my daughter. She has claimed she has written to the Emperor, declaring her illegitimacy unless I reverse such. My daughter is loyal to me first. Even though the Emperor's ambassador has tried to persuade me for her marriage to the Portuguese Don Louis, she has stated she will only marry if it pleases me. Do not doubt my daughter Cromwell. It would be a grave mistake on your part," the king threatened. "Now, send the Duke of Warwick in. I wish to speak to him immediately. Alone." Cromwell could only nod at the king's words, seething inside as a servant let Warwick enter the king's chambers and Cromwell exited. A look of hatred was shared between the two men. At least there was one thing they could agree on.

"Majesty," Warwick spoke, bowing to the king deeply. The king raised his hand, allowing the duke to rise, but Warwick noticed something immediately. It was if the king was holding back, as if he had words on the tip of his tongue that he wouldn't dare speak of.

"Warwick, I wanted to speak to you of my cousins, Reginald Pole and Baron Montagu as well as Exeter. What do you think of them?" Henry questioned. Warwick was slightly confused why the king would ask him of his opinion and not Cromwell's, but he answered swiftly.

"Well, Courtenay has proved his allegiance to you. He fought for your majesty during the rebellion. He voted in your favor when the late queen was on trial," Warwick responded. "As for Reginald Pole, his only does what he thinks is good. He may not see his actions as faults against you. And I hear his brother has scolded his actions. They are no threat to your majesty."

"Cromwell disagrees with you." Warwick chuckled, making the king's eyebrows raise.

"We disagree on many things, majesty. But surely you of all persons already knew that?" The king could only nod his head in agreeance.

"I understand your difference of opinion, but I trust Cromwell. He understands me. Knows what I want, what I need," the king emphasized. Warwick stayed silent not daring to speak against his sovereign. Henry knew the Duke would not respond to him so he changed the topic. How is your family, Warwick?"

"They are well, majesty." Warwick was simple in his answer, not willing to divulge details. He knew what the king was hinting at, but he would not budge until the king pressed him further.

"And your new grandchildren have arrived?" Henry questioned. He was direct. He did not care if he seemed prying into matters that didn't concern him.

"Two granddaughters, your majesty. Another Neville daughter. Christian has his hands full… and a Percy girl," Warwick announced proudly, his lies flowing off his tongue easily. She was a Tudor girl, through and through. "Though my other grandchild has yet to be born."

"You are to be congratulated on your growing family." Warwick thought he detected a hint of sarcasm in the king's voice but brushed it off.

"Thank you, majesty," Warwick replied, waiting for the king to dismiss him. He was anxious to return home, not just for his grandchild but to help Grace with Percy's declining health.

"One more thing Warwick. I requested that Northumberland come to court, but I have not received a reply nor is he here. Why would he dare to decline such a request from me?" There was envy in his tone, jealousy that Percy had scorned him for the birth of his new child.

"Majesty, Henry Percy is extremely ill and cannot make his way to court for fear of worsening his illness." Henry's eyes shot up, an icy stare connecting with Warwick's worried orbs.

"Well, I wish him a speedy recovery. All is forgiven." Henry nodded his head at the door, signaling his release of the duke. Warwick took his leave, bowing to the king as he departed as quickly as he arrived. Henry was left with his thoughts. At first, he was insanely jealous that Percy had a child, Grace's child. It should have been his daughter, not a Percy. That feeling immediately conflicted with his pity for the man. If he was unwell enough to come to court, even if his brother was going to be tried for treason, it could only mean one thing: consumption.

Henry's brother Arthur had died from the disease, Henry becoming king in his place. His sister Mary had also died from the illness, Charles just as shocked when she died as she had not disclosed her health to her husband or brother. For a moment, Henry considered retracting the trial against his brother. Instead, it was replaced by a feeling of revenge. If the younger Percy brother could betray him, Henry Percy could as well and there would be punishment delivered to both brothers as justified by the king.

Westminster 18 March 1537

Cromwell gazed intently on the letter he had just received in his study, thinking it was odd that the queen's sister out of all people would be writing to him. Elizabeth Seymour apparently had written to him out of desperation from what he could gather. The second Seymour daughter was out of favor with her siblings. She was at court but was not a lady-in-waiting to the queen. He scanned her letter, most surprised at her request:

Mine especial good lord,

After most hearty recommendation, please it you to be so good unto me as through your means I might be holpen to obtain of the king's grace to be farmer of one of these abbeys, if they fortune to go down; the names whereof I do send unto your lordship herein inclosed. And, as for payment for the same, I trust to discharge as well and surely any living personage. My lord insomuch as my husband, whose soul God pardon, did bear ever unto your lordship both his heart and service, next under the king's grace, I am therefore the more bolder to write and sue unto you for your good help and furtherance herein; besides that, I do put mine only trust in your lordship for the good expedition hereof, and intend not to sue to none other but only to your lordship.

Cromwell was aware of Elizabeth Seymour's circumstances. Her late husband had been loyal to the previous queen and now, she was paying the price. Her family had all but abandoned her as well as her late husband's family. She only asked for some of the profits from the dissolution of the monasteries. But she trusted Cromwell, him being the Lord Chancellor and closest to the king.

Farther, at my last being at the court I desired your lordship that I might be so bold as to be a suitor to you, at which time your lordship gave unto me a very good answer; praying you so to continue my good lord. I was, in master Ughtred's days, in a poor house of mine own, and ever since have been driven to be a sojourner, because my living is not able to welcome my friends, which for my husband's sake and mine own would sometime come and see me.

Cromwell had to reread the sentence several times, quite perplexed that the Seymour girl would consider him as a husband. He did not want to be married nor would he ever court a woman who had just a reputation at court. Queen's sister or not, Elizabeth Seymour was tarnished by her previous husband's opinions. There was also the matter of her age; she was over thirty years younger than him. If he had been ten years younger, he would consider it, but she was more suited to his son.

Wherefore, if it please your lordship now to help me, so that I might be able to keep some poor port, after my degree, in mine own house, now being a poor woman alone, I were the most bound unto you that any living woman might be; and more with a little help now, than if you advised me to bound to thing of a thousand marks a year. And for the same eftsoons I heartily desire your good lordship; desiring you farther to give credence to master Darcy concerning such causes as he shall move unto you. And thus Almighty Jesu ever preserve your good lordship.

At York, the 18th day of March, by your most bounden,

Elizabeth Ughtred

Cromwell felt badly for the woman and would consider her plea. However, he would find a more suitable man to court her. There were also her young children to consider. She proved herself fertile, capable of having sons. It would not be hard to find someone. It just had to be the right person, someone loyal to Cromwell and someone who would petition his opinions to the king. He would be another ally to the throne, an ally for the Seymours and to Cromwell that would only strengthen their power.

Warwick Castle 24 March 1537

Robert Aske, Thomas Darcy, and Robert Constable are asked to return to London by the Duke of Norfolk to meet with the king who supposedly wanted to thank them for dealing with Bigod's Rebellion. Much to their chagrin, all three were arrested and taken to the tower where they awaited their fate. Aske could only hope that the Duchess of Gloucester would come to their rescue, but it was a fleeting hope. Would she risk her life again for an innocent man?

The duchess was rather occupied at Warwick Castle, Anne griping her hand so tight she thought she would scream. "Come now, Anne. You must push. You're almost there," she encouraged. Anne would soon be the mother of two children, something she had not thought would ever happen. Barely a year before she had almost lost her head. Now she was the Countess of Salisbury and about to give birth to another Neville.

Drenched in sweat, the former queen gave one last yell and her child slipped into the world. Loud cries filled the room, and everyone laughed happily at the child. It seemed perfectly healthy as the midwife held it in the air for everyone to see. "Another Neville boy," the midwife announced. Anne closed her eyes, beginning to cry as she repeated those words over and over in her head. A boy. She had done what everyone said she could not. She had delivered a son, all the while insulting the king who said she could not. It was her grand triumph, and no one could take it away from her.

A/N: Comments?