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

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. Welcome to part 3 of COTAR. I have not decided on a title yet. I would like to leave that up to my viewers since you all are such a big part of this story's success. I have posted a poll so please vote! Hello to my new favs/followers from the last chapter of Hourglass: aq34, morbidlypicturesque, Winterfelix, THatGurlx3, BriaDelAngel, Vikihungerrgame1, Pinkgirl1224, DarkBrokenAngel, Marian Forever, Renaissance Maiden, fiction press writer, and Arielleth. Also, please check out Athenais Penelope Clemence. She is an amazing author! I highly recommend her.


Ch. 1

The woman who does not choose to love should cut the matter short at once, by holding out no hopes to her suitor.

Marguerite de Valois

Pride defeats its own end, by bringing the man who seeks esteem and reverence into contempt.

Henry IV of England


Warwick Castle 30 May 1536

The king was marrying Jane Seymour that day and Grace had been up since dawn. Only Anne had been allowed entrance into her room, both of them mourning for their pasts. It could have been Grace marrying the king, but she had refused on account of her loyalty to Anne. Anne could have been delivering her son if she had not miscarried. However, fate had other plans for them.

Anne had married Richard Neville and though they had only been married for two weeks, she was pleasantly happy with their married life. He had not prioritized the marriage bed, stating that if she ever allowed him the privilege of consummating their marriage or not that he would be satisfied either way. They did not love each other, both of them knew that. But there was a normalcy to their life now. Richard's sons had accepted Anne and Elizabeth with open arms, loving that they had a new mother and sister. Elizabeth and Richard's youngest son, Henry, were only four months apart and had already formed an inseparable bond that only siblings could have. It lightened Anne's heart to know that they had a new family that would love and protect them.

Meanwhile, Grace was dwelling over her marriage proposal from Henry Percy, beyond shocked that he had asked her to be his wife. She vividly remembered when he kneeled before her and asked her what was to be considered the most important question a woman would ever hear. She was frozen, had stared completely blank at Percy's beaming features as she unattractively opened her mouth like a fish under water. Seeing her dilemma, Percy had chuckled at her silence, finding her reaction endearing to him. He rose to his feet taking, both her hands in his.

"I don't expect an answer immediately, but you will consider me as a suitable candidate for your hand?" Percy asked, a hopeful stare in his cornflower blue orbs. Grace, still speechless, nodded at his request. She didn't even realize when Percy leaned forward, delivering a quick kiss to her lips. It wasn't forceful nor did Grace feel disgusted at receiving it. It was quite nice to her, something resembling a promise in that kiss. She blushed, Percy chuckling as he left her to consider his offer in privacy. He left soon after, traveling back to court as his presence had been demanded there with the king's upcoming nuptials.

Mary had not been invited to her father's wedding, whether because of her status as the King's bastard or because she was with the Nevilles, the answer was not known. Grace worried that Mary would be called back to court soon on account of the well-known fact that she had not taken the oath or since her father had remarried.

Mary had only encountered Jane once, when Anne had called her out in front of the court, but as she was close to her father's precious paramours and she had the opinion that Jane was nothing compared to Anne and Grace. She did not have the eloquence, intelligence, or fierceness that the other two women possessed. Jane was quiet, submissive, dutiful. She was obedient but boring in Mary's eyes. She could never amount to her father's previous queens or Grace.

Jane could only write her name and she did not speak any foreign languages. She had never conversed with foreign ambassadors, never been asked her opinion on diplomatic matters. She knew nothing about the financial status of England or the dissolution of the monasteries. All she had been concerned about was that she would marry the king and bear him sons. Her father and brothers had arranged everything with Cromwell and now their power was increasing.

"Should I feel betrayed, after all that happened?" Grace questioned, bloodshot eyes turning to Anne. The former queen grasped her friend's hand tightly in support.

"It would be odd if you didn't," Anne replied, her dark eyes filled with same pain as Grace's. She too felt deceived by Henry's actions, but she was sure they weren't the only ones that thought him a hypocrite for replacing Anne with Jane, a woman who was once a lady-in-waiting and now being married to a king. She had displaced Anne the same way Anne had removed Catherine.

It could be called karma, but then again, Jane had wanted the king's attentions from the beginning while Anne had rejected his advances at first. "I wouldn't doubt that some courtiers are laughing at him for his hastened marriage. He won't be able to get a healthy son off that Seymour wench anyways," Anne spoke with venom in her voice. Both of them had reasons to despise Jane, Anne more than Grace. Jane would have been perfectly content with having her predecessor executed and would not have batted an eyelash.

"Anne…" Grace scolded, "Can we not talk about this anymore?" Anne noticed her crestfallen appearance. Any talk about Henry and his marriage would crush her further. Anne nodded, taking Grace in her arms as she bawled about the man she thought she had loved. It was uncontrollable, heartbreaking to Anne as she watched Grace's heart crack into slivers.

Suddenly, she extracted herself from Anne's grip, angrily rifling through her things. Anne stared at her nervously, wondering what she was doing. It wasn't until Grace pulled out bunches of letters from her chest that she realized Grace was trying to destroy anything that connected her to Henry. Anne jumped up from her seat, rushing into Grace's path to stop her. "Grace, no! You'll regret that later."

"Let me do it," Grace cried, trying to break free from Anne's arms. She had her sights set on the fireplace that was blazing in the room and would do anything to make the pain she felt be lifted slightly.

"You can't let him win. Don't let this ruin you. It will only make you stronger," Anne whispered into Grace's hair, watching as Grace crumbled in her arms. She was defeated, a shell of her former self.


The Queens Closet, Whitehall Palace

The king was running late to his own wedding. Everyone had observed his absence but said nothing. Was there hesitance in his nature or was had he simply lost time while he readied himself? Many courtiers thought it unconventional that within a month, the king had deposed of one queen and married another who assumed her place in bed and honor. Ambassador Chapuys had even questioned the marriage and specifically, Jane's chastity. How had someone so long at court not be spoiled? Then again, there would be many witnesses who could attest to her chastity or her lack thereof if the king later sought a divorce. However, to attempt divorce would lead to more ridicule and Cromwell knew the king would not react well to such actions.

Henry stood in his chambers, adjusting the collar to his wedding garment while a servant held a mirror in front of him. He stared back at his reflection blankly, seeing his marriage as a duty rather than a blessing. He had wanted to marry Catherine, he had wanted to marry Anne, but Jane was chosen for him by Cromwell. His blue eyes connected with his secretary's brown ones, Cromwell trying not to flinch at his harsh gaze.

"You don't think this wedding was rushed, do you Cromwell? That perhaps waiting would have been better?" the king asked.

"No, your majesty. Once the late queen's guilt had been proven, your majesty had every right to select a new bride," Cromwell insisted. He was nervous, wondering why the king would ask such a thing. He had been determined to get rid of Anne and now he was showing reluctance to marry Jane who was currently waiting for her husband to be while he finished dressing himself.

"Her guilt? You managed to pronounce her treason without a second thought," the king spoke in an accusing manner, clicking his tongue.

Cromwell began to sweat profusely across his forehead, wiping the liquid away as he tried to settle his mind. The king would not turn against him after all he had done for him. "It was proven in court, majesty."

"Ruled, it was ruled by two courts. How is it that you managed to compile so much evidence in a short amount of time?" The king turned away from the mirror, Cromwell now confronted with his actual self instead of a critical gaze from glass.

"Majesty, it was proven. Your court all knows it," Cromwell explained, his voice resolute in the fact that the queen had indeed committed treason against the king. Cromwell had concocted all the falsities against her, but he needed the king to believe them.

"Your charge of incest was too far," the king concluded, clutching his chin in an annoyed manner. He was beginning to mistrust his secretary, wary of his dealings in his kingdom.

"She divided your country, majesty. You needed to be rid of her." Cromwell hoped the king would see reason in his decision to remove Anne. He couldn't have the king doubting him now, after he had come so far with his religious proceedings.

"And you don't?" the king countered.

"The dissolution of the monasteries will not only aid in reform in your majesty's realm, but it will refill the treasury," Cromwell spoke, determined to convince the king of the justification of the act. He truly thought that ridding England of his ties with Catholicism was the right direction in making the people pledge their loyalty to the Church of England. He also believed all properties and possessions of the monasteries could be sold off for the benefit of the crown, something Anne had disagreed with.

"Even if violence is carried out in my name? How is that justified, Cromwell?" the king continued, studying his secretary as he waited for answers.

"You are the left hand of God. The people must follow your orders," Cromwell claimed.

"Many would disagree with you Mister Cromwell."


Henry strutted into the queen's closet, all eyes glued to his figure. Dressed in all white, he truly looked a magnificent king in his wedding garb. A gold crown was worn for the occasion of his wedding, something he hadn't worn since Anne's coronation three years earlier. A collar of gold hung around his neck, the metal formed into Tudor roses with pearls set in the middle. He also had a fur of ermine around his shoulders, blending in nicely with the white coloring of his outfit.

Jane stood at the head of the room, a beautiful gown of white satin with gold designs sewn into the material. A thin veil covered her hair which had been arranged in a simple bun, but an elaborate tiara with diamonds and pearls, her other pieces of jewelry also held the same precious gems, displaying her new status as queen. She was fidgeting as she was shown as an exhibit for all to see. She wondered what was keeping the king, turning to her eldest brother for an explanation. Edward could only shrug his shoulders at Jane, knowing the king was most likely deterred by state matters.

Many courtiers pondered over whether she would keep the king's interest or not, Anne still being alive and remarried while Grace had managed to wriggle her way out of staying at court. Some had said that Grace would become queen, but that was impossible now. The king had set his eyes on Jane, or rather Mister Cromwell had.

Henry could see his bride waiting for him, Bishop Gardiner leading his small group further into the room. However, he halted for a second, frozen in his steps at the thought of Grace. He had buried her in the deep recesses of his mind and for a brief moment, she entered his consciousness. The Duke of Warwick was present for his wedding, being one of the four dukes of England. He was expected to be there. Henry tried to divert his stare from the older man but could not and he stared back at the duke, Grace's eyes the exact same shade of green. It was his presence and that stare that unsettled him, the father of his love.

Henry collected himself, sighing deeply as he stepped forward again to approach his bride. He had been rattled by Warwick, but he would not let anyone know. Yet, Richard had seen the signs of hesitance in the king's eyes. He wasn't sure if the king would carry through in his marriage to Jane or not, but as he passed him, he knew his appearance had unsettled the king.

"Jane," the king spoke when he neared the front of his room. Jane curtsied to him, uttering a quiet "majesty" as he held his hand out for her to place hers over. He nodded to Bishop Gardiner, allowing him to proceed with the wedding rites.

Gardiner began to speak, clearly and concisely as he dictated the marriage vows. "We are come here together, before God and these witnesses, to join in holy matrimony Henry VIII, King of England and France. Defender of the Faith, the Supreme Head of the Church of England, and the Lady jane Seymour. And if any among you who may imagine some impediment as to why they should not be married, let them now speak out or forever hold their tongue." Henry tilted his head slightly, Cromwell in his peripheral vision. He waited for his secretary to make a move, but he didn't. He turned his head forward once more, awaiting his future with Jane Seymour.


Henry Percy watched from the alcove above the festivities, grimacing at the phony grins present on every nobles' face. He was disgusted that everyone cast a blind eye to the carnage they had all caused, the ruin of an innocent woman. No one seemed to care that Anne was no longer queen, that her brother and four other men were exiled to France for actions they did not commit. It sickened him. He wished to be as far away from court, but that was impossible because of his noble title.

Unbeknownst to Percy, Ambassador Chapuys came to stand next to the earl. He also cast the same look of contempt at the celebrations, making his appearance known with the clearing of his throat. Percy jumped at the noise, momentarily startled, but he gave the ambassador a respectful nod of his head. "Ambassador Chapuys."

"My Lord Percy," Chapuys returned. "I see you are quite sour with today's nuptials." He immediately noticed Percy tense at his words, the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped the bannister.

"And you must be elated at the outcome," Percy returned, sending the ambassador a suspicious look. Chapuys never talked to him, so his guard was up.

"Quite the opposite, my lord. It is true I disliked the late queen, but I had hoped the king would resolve his issues with her…or take a different wife," Chapuys revealed. "I think you know to whom I am referring. The Emperor did not care who, just as long as it was not Anne Neville." Percy was surprised Chapuys used Anne's new name and was even more shocked as he looked around them, his voice having lowered so no guests could eavesdrop on their private conversation. A wave of anger came over Percy, knowing the ambassador was speaking of Grace.

"As we both know, Lady Neville would have done nothing of the sort. She would never have betrayed the late queen. She's not that type of person. She's more than that." Percy defended Grace valiantly, Chapuys widening his eyes at Percy's words.

"It seems Lady Neville has managed to attract another's attentions. Perhaps you will be more successful than the king," Chapuys muttered, looking back down at the festivities as the king and queen joined the dance. Percy frowned at the sight but was grateful that it was Jane and not Grace who had married the king.

"I will be."


Jane was nervously kneeling in her new chambers, still thinking everything that had happened was a dream. She was now Queen of England, wife to the king, and no one was above her. She had never thought it was possible, but the king had chosen her, not Grace Neville, to be his wife. The king had to love her, she was sure of it, for why else would he marry her?

Jane looked up at Bishop Gardiner as he prayed over her, also listening to the priest in the background who was blessing the marriage bed. She made the sign of the cross over her chest, rising to her feet. She was surprised when the bishop gave her a wedding gift, a rosary that had once belonged to Queen Catherine. She was honored by the gift, but quickly hid it in her nightgown as the king was announced. Even as they consummated their marriage, she was sure that if he saw the rosary that he would be pleased with her piety.

Everyone bowed or curtsied to the king as he entered Jane's chambers, Jane nodding her head in reverence to her husband. He was wearing a white shirt and tan breeches, a fur around his shoulders. He looked so regal to Jane and she was thankful her husband had not lost his looks as many men his age had.

"Wife," Henry murmured to her, bowing in the process. His eyes scanned her body, admiring her. He was giving Jane a chance, not just because Grace had rejected him, but because Jane was so devoted to him.

"Husband," Jane spoke cheerily, curtsying to him. Henry noted how he eyes lit up at the sight of him and it tugged on his heartstrings.

"I don't think we need to proceed in public," Henry announced. "Not this time." He wanted privacy between him and his wife, dismissing all the courtiers with a single nod of his head and wave of his hand.

When the courtiers had all left, Henry lifted Jane's hands to his face, pressing a kiss on each hand before leaning forward and kissing her. It was light at first before Henry pursued more, deepening the kiss. Jane lifted her hand to press it against his face, feeling the stubble of his beard under her hand. Their breathing became labored, Henry pulling away from the kiss as he lightly pushed Jane backwards onto the bed. She laid back delicately on the sheets as Henry discarded his fur and shirt, Jane's heart fluttering at the sight of his bare chest.

Henry leaned over Jane, gently nudging apart her legs to lay between them. He resumed kissing her, though he had a nagging feeling in the back of his head as she held on to the back of his neck. He felt guilty, some unknown force holding him back, but he cleared his head of the thought to press forward.

Henry drew Jane's nightgown up her body, bunching it around her waist as he made a path with his mouth from her lips to her breasts. He pulled down her nightgown, burying himself in the tender flesh while Jane's back arched in response. Making sure she was ready for him, he forced his hand between her legs, gently touching her folds which were already wet. He couldn't deny the hardness in his breeches, loving when any woman appeared to be coming undone underneath him.

Untying his breeches, Henry moved his face up once more to capture Jane's lips as he entered her. His wife tensed immediately, letting out a small mewl of pain. He tried to comfort her while also continuing to thrust slowly in and out until her unease dissipated. Jane tightly grasped at his back while her legs remained awkwardly on the bed. She wasn't sure what to do, hesitantly wrapping her legs around Henry's waist as they consummated their marriage.

Despite the lack of passion in their coupling, Henry couldn't say he didn't enjoy himself. Jane appeared to be so as well, moaning in his ear lightly. He would teach her what to expect, what to do, how to please him just as any husband would. But, he was unsure if she had a passionate side, if she would give into her lust occasionally. He caught himself thinking of Grace and her wild abandonment when he took her, her green eyes filled with hunger and trust. Without even realizing it, he felt his climax approaching and he yelled out as he finished, his body slumping against Jane who held him in her arms.

The couple was silent, their heavy breathing the only noise reaching their ears. Jane was quiet, but content, feeling as if this was confirmation of their love. She had no idea Henry was consumed with other thoughts, memories of another woman who he now wished was the person he was sharing his life with.


Warwick Castle 4 June 1536

Grace sat across from Percy in her father's study, distancing herself from the man who wanted to marry her. Her father and uncle were present as well, listening to Percy discuss the royal wedding and other happenings at court. Grace had been the one to see Percy headed up the drive from her chambers and now she was watching him intently with her green orbs. She hadn't decided to accept his proposal or not, two weeks not being enough to consider what could be the rest of her life. But he had not expected an answer, merely displaying his charming smile to her when he caught her watching.

Percy was sarcastic as he spoke, describing the sobriety of the English court. "The new queen has insisted that her maids and ladies-in-waiting be willing to serve God and be virtuous, though I see no difference as to what Anne had ordered as queen. She thinks to be a role model by being a boor I think. She detests the French hood and favors English gable hoods. All the ladies look like they have small manors on their heads." More and Warwick chuckled at the comment, Grace trying to force a smile from appearing on her face. Percy was relieved that Grace was not disheartened by his news, but he knew she was burying her emotions deep inside her.

"I have also heard that the king had postponed Jane's coronation until she proves herself capable of bearing heirs. Others say it is because Cromwell needs to increase the royal treasury first. The estimated date is October, though I believe it will be much longer than that," Percy continued. "I hope other things don't take as long." He smirked when Grace fidgeted in her seat, the other two men unaware of the meaning of his last sentence. They were too busy talking among themselves to understand the underlying meaning.

"Is she truly trying to erase Anne completely from court?" Grace questioned, finally speaking to the handsome man in front of her.

"Not as much as she is trying to remove you, my lady. She is at war with nothing but your memory. It will destroy her sooner or later," Percy admitted. "Both of you will not be so easily forgotten."


Greenwich Palace 5 June 1536

While Percy had sought refuge at Warwick Castle, the four Neville brothers had traveled to court to receive their titles given to them by the king for their loyalty to the crown, more specifically the fact that Richard had married the late queen. They stood in a small group, away from the other courtiers. They had talked to few nobles, only Suffolk and Chapuys truly getting any words out of the four men. They hated being there, dealing with the gossip and scrutinizing looks of the Seymours who didn't understand why they were present.

Richard cast a wary look towards the king who was speaking with Suffolk while he resided on his throne. He looked content, though Richard sensed a distracted look in his eye. He chuckled at something Suffolk said, clapping on the shoulder before turning his attentions to the proceedings in front of him.

"Sir Edward Seymour," a page announced, the queen's brother steeping away from his family to step in front of the king. He kneeled down, making an elaborate waving motion with his hand that made Richard roll his eyes.

Cromwell stepped forward to announce the honors. "Sir Edward Seymour, as the brother of his majesty's beloved wife Jane, it is his majesty's pleasure today to create you Viscount Beauchamp of Hache, in Somerset. Also, to appoint you Governor of Jersey, and Chancellor of North Wales." Edward was in shock at the latter two appointments, the courtiers murmuring around him.

"Your majesty, I am deeply honored. And I assure your majesty that I will labor unremittingly in your majesty's interests, in the hope of repaying the great trust you've shown in me," Edward relayed. The king gave Cromwell an impatient look, motioning for Cromwell to give him his papers.

"My lord, here are your letters patent." Cromwell handed the letters to a still kneeling Edward. "I congratulate you on your elevation." He was sincere, Edward nodding his head at the king's secretary.

"Thomas…" Cromwell turned around to see the king pointing his head at the Neville brothers, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. Cromwell made a face at the page who called out the Neville brothers' names one by one.

John was made Viscount Rochford, given the title that George had been stripped of with his exile to France. Christian was made Viscount of Winchester, a title that become extant on the death of one of their Neville ancestors. Finally, Arthur was made Baron Despencer in honor of their great-grandmother's family. The younger brother seemed to know no boundaries, staring up at the king with the same green eyes as Grace. Henry was unnerved, not being able to hold the young man's gaze for long.

Arthur was given a reprimanding look from his elder brother, the other two viewing his actions as having no wrong. They were not as brazen as their younger siblings, retaining their father's calm nature while Arthur and Grace were not afraid to speak their minds. The Neville brother's left immediately after their appointments, the king letting out a relieved sigh at their departure. He did not want to be reminded of the other two women who played prominent roles in his life, asking Cromwell what other business there was to attend to in order to keep his mind focused.

"Your majesty has received a letter from the Emperor congratulating you on your marriage. Since he sees no further impediment, he is very anxious to come to a new accommodation." The king was pleased, glad that negotiations with the Emperor could continue once more.

"Good. What else?" Henry asked.

Cromwell frowned at the next news he had to deliver. "The Lady Mary has also written to your majesty."

Henry sighed once more, wondering what his eldest daughter wanted. He felt guilty that she had retreated to Warwick in the event of the late queen's arrest, feeling as if she had thought he would turn on her. He would never turn his anger on his children. He tried hard to make sure they wouldn't view him as a monster, but with the latest events, he was sure Mary feared him and that Elizabeth was confused. "About what?" he asked shortly, disliking the way Cromwell was acting in regards to his daughter's letter.

"She humbly beseeches you to remember that she and the Lady Elizabeth are your children, and that she wishes to speak to your majesty," Cromwell revealed. He was disinterested, no sympathy in his words whatsoever. Henry knew it was because Mary was a prominent Catholic, but she was still the daughter of a king.

Henry was quick to answer, making sure Cromwell knew that Mary was to be respected. "Then you shall tell her to return to court, on the condition that she comes to submit to my will. I have not decided whether she must sign the oath, but I am considering it. Lady Elizabeth is to accompany her in order that they may meet their new stepmother. Make sure their rooms are ready. I want no expense spared for my daughters."

"I shall convey your words to the Lady Mary immediately, majesty."


Warwick Castle 8 June 1536

It was a beautiful summer day, the whole Neville family enjoying the feel of the sun against their skin as they lounged on the grounds of Warwick Castle. The gardens were in full bloom, displaying their delicate treasures of wisteria, catmint, rambling roses, delphinium, geraniums, and peonies. Warwick was at peace, comforted by the sounds of his grandchildren chasing each other, their contagious giggles making him smile. He studied all of his children, watching their interactions with their spouses.

Richard and Anne were no longer awkward around one another, though they still lacked the affections of the other couples. Elizabeth was a darling child, an excellent addition to his grandchildren. Her three stepbrothers loved her, ecstatic they had a sister. He was sure the small family would grow soon, Richard already casting longing looks at the oblivious Anne. Meanwhile, her sister Mary and John were lavishing their attentions on their daughter, Anne, named after her aunt. He was pleased John had found the love of his life, that Mary and he had found each other after years of heartbreak that both had endured. Christian was another matter, acting like one of the children as he chased his wife around their gathering like a young schoolboy. Their three girls had joined in, laughing at their parents antics. A fourth child would join them in the winter, Mary pregnant once more.

As Warwick cast his gaze on his youngest two, he hoped they would find happiness as their other siblings had. At only 16, Arthur was still focused on his studies rather than women. He had experienced court life but lacked the vigor his elder brothers had for politics. Warwick was sure he would grow into it. Grace was another story entirely. Being his only daughter, he was more protective over her and his heart broke over her suffering. However, Henry Percy had entered her life, trying to put together the broken pieces of her heart. The young man was in love with her as he could clearly see, but Grace would not allow herself to open up so easily.

More was also present at Warwick Castle, enjoying time with his intermediate family and extended family. He too was surrounded by his children, their spouses, and his grandchildren, wondering how their lives would have been if he had not been spared the executioner's block. Like Warwick, he was fairly concerned for Grace's emotional wellbeing and hoped she would accept Percy's wedding proposal. She deserved to start over with a man who obviously wanted nothing more than to give her the world.

Mary Tudor cast a sidelong glance at Grace, her friend taking a nervous gulp of wine while watching as Percy practiced sword-fighting with her nephews. They were using wooden swords, the young boys still not trusted to practice with sharp steel quite yet. He was an excellent teacher, pivoting every which way as the boys tried to jab him. They were unsuccessful, their swords slashing at thin air while Percy moved out of reach. Grace blushed when he looked her way, sending a wink in her direction. Mary laughed at the evident flirting between the two, Grace denying that had any sort of feelings towards the Earl of Northumberland.

Suddenly, a messenger arrived, attracting all the Nevilles' attention as the man approached the Lady Mary. Mary turned white, not because of the messenger, but because the letter bore the Tudor crest, the king's crest. She had not expected a response from her father so quickly and she rose to her feet, the man respectfully bowing before turning back to his horse to leave. Mary hastily opened the letter, her eyes scanning its contents greedily. She had not noticed that Grace too had lost a considerable amount of color in her cheeks, her cheery attitude fading as she studied Mary's stunned expression.

"What is it Mary?" Grace questioned, Mary at first unable to tear away her eyes from the parchment.

"The king…the king has asked that Elizabeth and I return to court to meet his new wife." Grace's ears rang after hearing the word "wife" fall from Mary's lips, her body tensing considerably. She knew Mary had written to her father in the hopes of finding out whether she and Elizabeth would be victim to their father's wrath, but it was quite the opposite. He wanted to welcome them back with open arms.

"And the oath?"

Mary shook her head. "He has made no mention that I must sign the oath yet." Grace felt all her worry disappear, knowing that Mary's stubbornness would one day cause her more harm than good. It gladdened her heart to know the king still loved his children and would spare them from his anger.

"Grace…" Mary uttered, unsure of how Grace would react to her request.

"Mary, what is it?" Grace reached out to lightly hold her friend's hand, realizing she had begun to shake. From fear or happiness, she did not know.

"I can't face him by myself. The thought alone makes me quiver with anxiousness," Mary revealed. Grace softened her gaze on Mary, thinking that Mary felt guilty about meeting Jane for the first time as her father's new wife.

"There is no reason to dread your meeting with Jane. You do not need to fear upsetting me. You are the king's daughter. You must do as he commands," Grace spoke.

"That's not it at all, Grace." Mary was hesitant in how she could phrase her next words, her blue eyes daring not to look at Grace's face until she was ready to ask her question. "I want you to come with me. I need you to return to court with me. Please do not refuse me."

Grace dropped Mary's hand immediately as if she was grasping a hot poker, rising to her feet so quickly she almost fell in the process. "Grace!" Mary called out, troubled by her rapid movements. Grace ignored her, practically running back into the castle and avoiding everyone as they attempted to halt her or speak to her. After all she had been through, she was deeply offended that Mary would ask such a thing of her.

"I think it best to leave her alone right now, Mary. You certainly caught her off guard," Anne said, her dark orbs filled with sympathy as Grace sought refuge in her chambers. She understood Mary's plea, but she also recognized that Grace would never refuse Mary, even if it meant facing her ruin.


A/N: Comments?