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

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for the long wait for an update. Work has kept me busy, so I apologize. I hope all of you are well and staying safe! Welcome to all my new favs/followers: SimonCatGirl, 06bromleys, Arnaud de Orleans, VerbenaScentedRolePlay, Luna Mikaelson, cerysclark, crazywolf like chicken, koppe527, Anne of Flanders, kitsune-miko-witch, BlueRubieTulips, TurkishPrincess, Princess of the Dark Kingdom, ancient dancers, Maiden from Paris, pokumu, Warrior Queen Rosmarine, joygoddess, DarkBrokenAngel, Lady from Forrests, Mimi1010, MariaM95, MissMarilynMonroe, Narcissistic Celebrity, Art Counterclockwise, DarkWitch137, Metamorphosis of Athena, Unique16, musical chills, fleur-de-lis-royal, Marian Forever, Island of Grief, ardently in love, THatGurlx3, OneoftheFrenchTrouvers, Treebrooke, Queen Anne Boleyn of England, Sea Goddess Amphitrite, kvdsouza, FantasyMadameBrunette, Sweet Scarlett Angel, Elizabeth of the Golden Age, , Crockett Rocket, unknownstartofwriting, Catherine de Medici of France, clo78, CofeLatte, Starkiller246, BraveHeartMaid, Elyon Cedar, HellToTheNo123, annekeough, NymphadoraBlackMalfoy, Seraphius, JanSmoe12, galaxy man in the day, Seraphis88, purpleheart689, Lady Rini, Marchesa di Pescara, S. , Serenity10116, Squintz18, Anne Boleyn Fan, Leafpool16985, xXxAngel-With-A-ShotgunxXx, LegandsOfTime, and BabeRuthless87. As always I recommend Chained by War and Love by Athenais Penelope Clemence who is such an amazing writer and supportive author.

Ch. 5

Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?

~William Shakespeare, As You Like

Now join hands, and with your hands your hearts.

~William Shakespeare, Henry VI Part 3

Wressle Castle 15 July 1536

As her sisters-in-laws and Percy's sisters put the finishing touches on her outfit, Grace smiled back at herself in the mirror at the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. Grace was marrying Henry Percy of Northumberland that morning, never more sure of herself in her entire life. She was going to marry the man she was falling in love with, someone who would cherish her the rest of her life, someone she could bare her soul to, someone she could grow old with.

Like other traditional brides, Grace's dress was a virginal white, quite ironic since she wasn't one. However, the gown had green undersleeves and the same fabric lined her kirtle while gold accents were sewn into the bodice. She had a matching French Hood, but Anne had stubbornly replaced the headpiece with a headband of pearls and emeralds instead, stating that a woman should wear jewels in her hair for her wedding day. Grace had conceded, knowing it was useless to disagree with Anne.

Warwick had decided to make himself known, entering his daughter's chambers to stare at her with such fatherly devotion. Grace blushed at his attentions, Warwick chuckling at his daughter's bashfulness. "Who would have thought that this day would come? My only daughter is leaving me to start a life of her own."

Grace laughed at her father's teasing. "Would you have rather me be an old maid?" she retorted, making the other women in the room laugh.

"You would never be just as old maid, sweetheart." Warwick tilted his head to the side, a thoughtful look on his face. "I have a wedding present for you," he continued, pulling out a necklace from his doublet. It was simple string of pearls with an emerald centered in the middle, completing her bridal look. "Anne may have helped me chose it since someone decided not to tell me what colors she was choosing for her wedding." Grace sent Anne a pointed look, her sister-in-law rolling her eyes at her stubbornness.

"I also have another present for you."

"Father, that's too much. You spoil me," Grace replied. However, when an unexpected person walked through the door she couldn't help but let out a yelp of glee as she ran into Mary Tudor's arms. The two women almost fell to the floor, Mary almost losing her balance at Grace's sudden force as she jolted herself in her direction. Mary could only giggle at her friend's reaction, pleased she had made the journey to see Grace marry.

"I take that my sudden appearance was a surprise?" Mary joked, holding her friend's hands in hers. Grace giggled at her words, in disbelief that Mary was there.

"I did not think you would attend. I would have understood if you couldn't," Grace relayed, a look of understanding crossing her features.

"I wouldn't miss this for anything, not even the king's summons to court can keep me from you." Grace was grateful for Mary's undying loyalty, though she worried it would anger the king. A flicker of concern flashed in her eyes but was replaced with happiness. She would not let the king ruin this day for her.

"It is time, Grace." The pair were interrupted by Thomas More, Grace's uncle beaming at his niece as he entered her chambers. "I must say, your bridegroom is very impatient," he continued, earning him some giggles from Percy's sisters.

"Our brother has never displayed such impatience until you. It's quite unlike him," Maud Percy spoke, her sister Margaret nodding her head in agreeance.

"How odd? Because that's all he has been since he proposed to me," Grace joked, earning a few laughs from their audience.

"Shall we?" Warwick held his arm out to his daughter, sending her an encouraging smile as she looked at him nervously. Grace took his arm tightly, her uncle walking among her female relatives as her father escorted her to the chapel tower. They all went inside, leaving Grace and her father to walk down the aisle by themselves.

Grace felt no hesitance in her body, only determination as her father escorted her into the chapel. As soon as her eyes met Percy's, she knew she had made the right decision. He was so handsome, his blonde hair brushed to the side and when his charming smile appeared, she felt her legs weaken for a moment. He also wore an outfit trimmed with green and a gold chain around his neck. She knew Percy would love her, protect her against all her fears. He was what she needed, a loyal and faithful husband who would remain by her side.

Warwick gave his daughter to Percy, patting him on the back slightly in a fatherly manner as the pair turned to the priest. They knelt before him, their hands clasped before them in prayer and their heads bowed as the priest began the ceremony.

"We are gathered here together, in the sight of God almighty, to join together into holy matrimony this man and this woman. And will you both answer that you will keep all these coming days rightful, with rightwiseness and discretion, with mercy and truth, so help you God?"

Percy and Grace were partaking in the dances for that evening, completely immersed in each other as a married couple should be. Their marriage banquet was a lavish affair, Percy sparing no expense for his bride. Though only their families were in attendance, Percy insisted that musicians be hired for the evening, that there were to be an assortments of platters such as duck, swan, oysters, fish, and other plates, and that every inch of the hall was to be decorated in white and green decorations with white roses everywhere.

"You aren't displeased that you married me here instead of your own home?" Percy questioned as he spun his bride around the room. Grace feigned hurt, placing her hand against her chest and gasping for the theatrics. Percy shook his head, his smile beaming as he stole a kiss from his wife.

"Of course not. I am marrying into your family. Besides, its pleased your mother and I want her to like me," Grace responded, spinning into Percy's arms. He lifted her into the air for a moment, Grace laughing as he held her longer than needed and showed her off. Their families chuckled at the display, Grace swatting at Percy as her feet returned to the ground.

"And you aren't displeased that you married me instead of the king?" Percy questioned. Grace halted at the seriousness of his tone, his pools of blue conveying the raw emotions of fear that he had masked from her for so long. Grace cupped his face with her soft hands, rubbing the pads of her thumbs across his cheekbones as she leaned in and kissed him to reassure him of her commitment to him.

"I chose you, Henry. Please don't doubt me because of my past," Grace relayed. Her emerald green eyes searched his icy blue ones for hesitance, but she found none.

"I don't doubt you. I fear the king will continue to pursue you even if we are married," Percy conveyed.

"And I will continue to deny him. I am yours now and there's nothing he can do about it," Grace declared, sealing her statement with a kiss. "We must travel to Gloucester when we are able. I would like to make that one of our residences eventually." Grace would remain with her husband in Northumberland until they made arrangements to travel to Gloucester. Having not been to her duchy, Grace was keen on meeting with her receiver general who handled the finances of her duchy. She had selected a man trusted by her father, Mr. Robert Palmer who was lawyer that had studied with her uncle at Lincoln's Inn.

"We shall do as you wish, Grace," Percy responded, cupping his bride's face in his hands. "Anything you wish."

The celebrations had died down for the evening, leaving the couple to their own devices as they undressed from their wedding garb in their private chambers. Percy was slow to remove Grace's wedding garments, peeling off each garment carefully as if it were a piece of glass. He wanted to savor the moment, savor taking his bride on their wedding night. He had been quick to remove his own doublet and shirt, pulling Grace to him and unlacing the back of her dress to reveal the smooth skin of her back. He kissed the exposed flesh, making Grace shiver as his path traveled to her neck where he buried his face. Meanwhile, her dress fell to the floor in a heap, momentarily forgotten as Percy's arms snaked around his bride's body.

Left only in her kirtle and undergarments, Grace could only focus on Percy: his breathing, his touch, the feel of his mouth against her skin, the feel of his heart beat as it beat rapidly with hers. She was completely overwhelmed by him as he turned her around to face him, kneeling before her as if he was worshipping her. And to Percy, she deserved to be worshipped, placed on a pedestal for his eyes alone as he professed his love and devotion to her. He drew her kirtle and her undergarments off, leaving her naked in front of him. She wasn't scared as she looked down at him, his hands wondering over her body freely before he raised himself in front of her and lifted her into his arms.

Grace was eager to hold her husband tightly against her, her legs wrapping around Percy as he held her in his arms and carried her to their bed. He laid her down gently before removing the rest of his clothing and hovering over her for a moment as they stared into each other's eyes. So much love was present in his gaze that it made Grace tremble and she felt as if she would cry. She had endured so much pain, but now she would experience true happiness.

As Percy and Grace became one, their bodies rocked in sync with each other, Percy rocking into his wife while she lifted her hips to meet him. This coupling was less frantic, slower and more cherished than their first time. However, it was not less passionate, and their love was stronger. Perhaps there was another reason why it was so much different than the first time, perhaps the couple were relishing in the news of Grace's pregnancy. They would be joined by a child early the next year and their family of two would become three.

21 July 1536

Sir Thomas More could hardly believe that his dear friend Desiderius Erasmus was dead. It had been fifteen years since he had seen his old friend, their friendship of 37 years finally coming to an end. Erasmus had recently accepted an invitation from Queen Mary of Hungary to move to Brabant but had died in Basel on the 11th unexpectedly from dysentery. However, he had been able to dictate a final letter to his "dear More" in the final hours of his life. More remembered fondly their first meeting with the king, Harry having been a young prince of just nine years and eager for knowledge. It seemed a lifetime ago that the king was just a boy for now he was a lion, a lion who knew his strength and knew what he was capable of doing.

St. James' Palace, London 23 July 1536

His son was dead, his dear Hal Fitzroy was dead and as he stared down at the corpse of his son, the king was in utter shock. A total numbness had overcome his body at the news as he rushed to his son's side, but it was too late. His weak, frail body had succumbed to consumption. His blue eyes were closed forever, the pale blond hair of his mother sticking to his forehead. Henry could only stare, having dismissed all servants as he wished to be alone with his son.

Henry remembered when Hal had received his title as Duke of Richmond and Somerset, the small crown and robe designed for the ceremony having swallowed his six-year-old body. He chuckled to himself at the hilarity of it all, remembering his son fondly, but his face soon turned melancholy.

"Norfolk!" Henry called out, the Duke of Norfolk entering the room and bowing to the king. He had been the one to alert his majesty of his son's death but had not expected the king to appear.

"Majesty," Norfolk replied. "I assure your majesty that I am as deeply affected by Richmond's death as you are. He was like a son to me and my dear Mary is overcome with grief at the loss of her husband."

"But he was not your son, Norfolk. He was mine," Henry declared, a harsh glare directed at Norfolk who had the decency to remain silent and lower his eyes to the floor. He was tired of Norfolk's flattery. And at such a time, he was immensely irritated with the duke. "Have arrangements been made for my son's burial?" he questioned, turning his attention back to his son.

"Yes, your majesty. He is to be buried in Framlingham Church in Suffolk where members of the Howard family have been buried." Norfolk warily watched the king for a reaction, but he had none as he continued staring at his son's body. It was like he was in a trance and it was eerily scary to watch.

"I ask that no expense be spared. He was my son and he should have a funeral fit for the son of a king. You shall send all notes to Cromwell. He will handle the payments," Henry ordered.

"Yes, your majesty." Norfolk was waved away with the movement of his hand, Norfolk leaving the king to his thoughts as he remained alone with his son in his grief.

Chateau de Tournon 18 August 1536

The Duke of Brittany, Dauphin of France was dead, the future of King of France now lost to his father and his country. Francois now shared a similarity with the King of England. However, Francois' grief was to be doubled with the death of his wife, Eleanor of Habsburg, having died withing a week of his son. His life had been struck with tragedy no man should have to endure, but here he was mourning in his private chapel with only God to watch over him.

His dear Francois had been playing tennis at a jeu de paume court, his heath seemingly excellent as he sparred with his opponent. He had taken a break, asking his secretary Count Montecuccoli for some water, and then collapsed suddenly minutes later. He had bene rushed to his rooms, calls for physicians made to save the dauphin's life, but his death was imminent according to the will of God and he died a few days later under the pretense of poison. Count Montecuccoli confessed to poisoning the young prince and was to be executed at a later date, but his death would bring the king no satisfaction.

Eleanor's death had been a complete surprise, his wife having kept her illness a secret from him. Francois had been alerted that his wife was on her deathbed, asking for her husband in her last moments. Though there was no love between them, he had thought it his duty to attend on her in her last minutes and he stayed by her side until she breathed her last. In a matter of days he had lost his son and his wife, the future of the Valois dynasty at risk. He had Henri and Charles, but who was to say they would not die as Francois had.

As Francois kneeled before the altar, the cross of Hod hanging above, he heard the silent noise of footsteps approaching as a person kneeled next to him. He turned slightly towards the man, not at all disturbed by his presence as he had called for him. "George," he spoke, the Boleyn brother bowing his head to the king.

"Your majesty, please allow me to offer my condolences on the loss of the Dauphin and Queen Eleanor," George replied. He was surprised to receive the king's summons, thinking he would only allow his children and his sister near him. Not even the king's mistress Anne de Pisseleu d'Heilly had been sent for.

"I thank you for your sincerity, George. There are many who wish to see the fall of the Valois dynasty, but as I have pledged to God, I say to you now that I promise on my life that will not happen." Francois was determined to keep his dynasty alive. He would not let his dynasty die out as his father-in-law's had, the Salic Law only allowing male descendants to take the throne. If Louis XII had a son, Francois would not have been king, but God had chosen for him to be so.

"I am sure your majesty will find a suitable bride when the time comes and you shall have more children with God's blessing," George responded.

"We shall have to find a bride for you as well, George. We are both young and we both deserve the joy of having children." George was speechless, confused as to why the king would refer to his own nuptials.

"Majesty, I thank you for your kindness, but I do not understand why you would mention a marriage of my own. Your majesty's impending marriage is far more important than mine would ever be," George insisted.

"You have been loyal to me, George. These past few months you have been a great companion to me and unlike my other courtiers, you are not a sycophant. I have given this great thought and I have decided to reward you not just with a wife, but a title as well. You shall be named Duke of Roannais for your marriage and loyalty to the crown." George could only nod his head as he processed what was occurring. "I have a niece, Jacqueline de Longwy, daughter of my half-sister Jeanne. She would make a suitable bride for you or perhaps Marie de Bourbon. I had hoped to marry her to King James of Scotland, but he has interest in my daughter, Madeleine, and I will not deter my daughter from her happiness if she wishes to marry him."

"I am at a loss of words for your majesty's generosity," George said, his sincerity evident in his tone. Henry had taken everything from him and now Francois was restoring his faith.

"You are a Frenchman now, George. It is time my courtiers started treating you like one."

Windsor Castle 20 August 1536

The king was sharing dinner with his wife in her quarters, unusually quiet as the musicians played in the background. He wore an outfit of blue with a brown geometric design while a collar of gold, pearls, and emeralds glinted in the candlelight around his neck. Jane wore an elaborate gown of peach and gold, a flashy lace collar adding an extra flamboyance to the ensemble. Her crown and other jewelry of rubies reflected her status as queen and though she looked the part, Henry questioned whether she had the skills to truly be one.

Jane was ranting about Mary, Henry feeling a sense of pride in his eldest daughter as she discussed Mary's recent visit. "Mary was so sweet and affectionate when she visited this past month. She was everything I hoped she would be. It seems to me no wonder she's so marvelously beloved for her virtue and goodness in the hearts of the people." His eyes wandered for a moment, connecting with Lady Ursula Missleton's for a brief second before returning to his plate. Jane continued complimenting Mary, unaware that his attention had been elsewhere. She had no idea his interest in her was waning, that she was being doubted by her husband in all of her abilities. "Your Majesty must invite her to court more. Show her off." Henry merely grunted, causing a frown to appear on Jane's face.

"Your Majesty?" Jane gently spoke, Henry's blue eyes connecting with her own. "Why will you not speak to me?" she questioned. She had no idea as to his behavior, the king acting so unlike himself.

"Because I am disappointed." Henry was blunt in his answer, Jane now frightened by the slight hint of anger she detested in his dark hues. A shiver ran down her spine involuntarily. She had done nothing wrong, so she guessed perhaps it had to be some affair of state she was not included in. Perhaps the dissolution of the monasteries or something concerning the Emperor. Maybe even the recent death of Henry Fitzroy. She was concerned for her husband, but even more worried that she had done something to upset him.

"Why?" Jane asked, unprepared for the answer she received.

"I'm disappointed, because you are not yet with child." Jane looked extremely uncomfortable at her husband's answer, feeling as if she was about to cry at his accusation. She was doing her duty, making love to her husband as often as he visited her. She couldn't understand why she wasn't with child. She was doing everything her brothers and sisters advised her to, but nothing was working.

"Majesty, I am praying daily that my womb shall quicken with child. I will do my duty to you," Jane promised, her voice shaking as she spoke. Henry only nodded his head, turning his attention to their uneaten meal as Jane started to fear about her future for she was sure that if Grace had been in her position, the king would not be disappointed at all.

Gloucester Castle 25 August 1536

Grace and Percy had finally arrived at Gloucester Castle, the entire household in front of the estate to greet their mistress and master. Their necks craned to get a glimpse of the duchess, the so-called beloved of the king. They had all heard the rumors, that the king had wanted to marry Grace, but she refused him for Lord Percy. They wondered how someone could reject the king, but when they saw Henry Percy, all the ladies giggled at his charming smile and knew the reason why. A few would say he was more handsome than the king.

Unlike most noble couples, their marriage was based on mutual love rather than convenience, a rarity for their status. Arranged marriages were most common and many of the servants had seen coldness between their previous lords and mistress's, but the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester were completely enamored with each other. Walking side by side they were a sight to behold, Grace wearing an outfit of gold and pearls while Percy looked dashing in a riding habit of blue. She had rode in the carriage while Percy had rode alongside her, rumors already starting that their mistress had to be with child if she was not riding.

"Mr. Palmer," Grace spoke, extending to the man who stood at the head of the household. Palmer took her hand and kissed it gently while bowing to her respectfully.

"Your graces," Palmer replied before turning to Percy and bowing to him as he had done to Grace. "We welcome you both to Gloucester Castle and are very glad you have finally decided to see the estate for yourselves. It has been a long time since Gloucester had a master and mistress."

"I am sure Mr. Palmer," Grace replied kindly. "I am very much excited to start renovations on the rooms and updating the gardens. There is so much I would like to begin." She clasped her hands together excitedly. She was ready for a new project, a fresh start with Percy that would cement their life together.

"Of course. If you will follow me to the study, we can go over your income before we show the rooms to you," Mr. Palmer explained, holding his hand out towards the direction of the castle's front doors. The couple followed his lead, entering their new home with newfound hope and love.

"What do you think about this room for the nursery?" Grace questioned, her's and Percy's hands intertwined as they stepped into a room that overlooked the gardens. It was one of the more recent updates of the castle along with their own rooms. There was still much work to be done, but Grace was eager to begin decorating.

"I've told you, anything you want you shall have it." Percy came up behind his wife, placing a gentle kiss on the slight piece of skin between her shoulder and neck. "Besides, this is your property not mine."

"I believe you've forgotten, husband, that a woman's property becomes her husband's when they marry," Grace teased.

"But I will not make any decisions about your property. This is your duchy, not mine. I only ask you to ask for advice when you need it," Percy explained.

"Do you mean that?" Grace questioned, her green orbs staring into Percy's blue ones with disbelief.

"Unlike most men, I like a woman in charge," Percy mused, making Grace giggle. She was truly grateful that her husband would let her handle her own domain instead of taking it from her and leaving her little room to protest. This was one of the reasons she loved her husband, that he respected her and would let her manage her properties without interference.

"And this is why I love my husband," Grace responded, taking her husband's face in her hands and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. Percy playfully swept her off her feet, out of the nursery and to their bedroom for some much needed alone time.

Windsor Castle 28 August 1536

A privy council meeting had been called to discuss the dissolution of the monasteries, enemies and allies alike present in the king's study as his majesty relayed Cromwell's findings. "My lords, Chancellor Wriothesley has received a letter from Mr. Rice, detailing one of the surveyors from Wales while Mr. Thomas Leigh has described the debauchery of Coventry, Stafford, Derby and Cheshire. I am glad we are proceeding with our reformation. The offense to God is most unjust and we must continue to press further if we are to be successful," the king explained. He looked around at the men who held positions in his privy council, most of them nodding their heads in agreement. Warwick wavered, knowing the details of Leigh's letters were most likely a lie while Rice's would be more truthful. "Warwick, you disagree?" the king questioned, seeing his hesitance.

"Majesty, I have heard much differently. The people of the north fear your majesty will take away their religion, that you will punish them for worshipping God," Warwick explained. "Many of them complain that Lord Cromwell is against your majesty's statutes, that the surveyors are inappropriate in their visits. I would advise your majesty to perhaps send others more suitable for the task in order to reflect better on your majesty."

"Is that true, Cromwell?" The king turned to Cromwell, an accusatory expression on her face.

Cromwell appeared calm a d collected, Warwick's comment apparently not getting under his skin. "Majesty, these peasants do not understand the importance of your reformation. They believe in dark superstition and the worshipping of idols that your majesty's reformation is against. We have commanded your men to persuade the people that the bishop of Rome's authority is usurpation and that your majesty is supreme head of the Church of England. The Pope is not God's vicar on Earth, majesty. You may do as you please and your people should obey." The king merely made a grunting noise in his throat before speaking.

"Very well Mr. Cromwell. You are dismissed. I'd like to speak to Warwick alone." Cromwell's eyes went wide, connecting with Edward Seymour's. The man looked as if he were about to burst, but he said nothing as he practically strut out of the room, Cromwell behind him. The king settled contently into his chair, pouring a generous glass of wine into his chalice.

"How is your family, Warwick? I hope the new Countess of Salisbury is to your satisfaction," Henry spoke as if he hadn't ruined Anne's life and broken his daughter's heart in a matter of weeks.

"She is, majesty. My son and her are quite happy together," Warwick said, slightly uncomfortably at being alone with the king. Anne was far more at ease with Richard than she ever was with the king. It was quite daunting that Warwick would keep this information from the king, but he thought it rather smart to hold his tongue in front of man who could imprison him with a snap of his fingers.

"I'm glad. Your son must be able to control her unlike I could. And I hear your other son is expecting another child," Henry continued, Warwick holding back an eye roll. Anne didn't need to be controlled, she needed to be challenged and Richard was doing just that.

"Half of my children are expecting, your majesty," Warwick responded hesitantly.

Henry froze, the chalice he had been lifting to his lips now held in midair. He smiled unnervingly, setting the chalice down silently instead of slamming it down like he wanted. "Which children?"

"Richard is…is to be a father again, majesty, and…and Grace is pregnant," Warwick revealed, his gaze wary as he waited for the king's outburst. He was partially glad he had been the one to tell the king the news instead of Cromwell shoving the news down his throat.

"Anne and Grace are both pregnant?" Henry questioned, his lips spreading into a thin line as his jaw clenched. Warwick knew the king was keeping his anger in check for appearances sake, but he was sure he was furious.

"Yes, majesty," Warwick replied simply. "It came as a surprise to me as well. And Grace, she married Henry Percy last month, with your permission from my understanding."

"Yes, she did have my permission. My congratulations on your growing family." Warwick detected a hint of sarcasm in his voice and at the darkening of his eyes, he sensed he needed to depart.

"Thank you, majesty. I should leave you. I am sure you have much to do." Warwick rose from his chair, bowing to the king who remained silent in his chair. He quietly left the room, fearing the king would let his anger loose as soon as he left. And he was correct, as soon as the door shut behind him an enraged yell broke out and an array of items crashed to the floor with a resounding thud.

Henry let his emotions get the better of him, throwing every item he could reach across the room. All he could see was red, his fury rushing through his veins. It was almost addictive the way he let it rush over his body as he lost total control. He let his screaming fill his lungs, let it ring out around the room. His servants could hear him through the wooden doors, the thickness of it doing nothing to prevent the sound from reaching unwanted ears.

"I think you should send for Suffolk," Warwick murmured to one of the king's servants, the man scurrying off to find the duke before the king could break anything else. Suffolk was fetched with such swiftness, the duke rushing through the corridors and barking at anyone who crossed his path. He entered the king's chambers, not knowing what to expect. It was a gamble: the king could either turn his anger on Suffolk or his fuel had burnt out, both still dangerous.

The king had slid down against the wall, clutching More's cross in his hands. He had received the gift all those Christmases ago and now he stared at it with such uncertainty. He stared up at Brandon with such fragility, like he was a child that needed comfort. "I fear this marriage is doomed Charles. I...I feel as if I will have no children with the queen. I should never have married her. I never should have divorced Anne. I never should have divorced Catherine. For God's sake...what have I done." The cross clanked onto the floor, Henry burying his face in his hands like the defeated man he was.

A/N: Reviews?