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

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you to my new favs/followers: alex-love-panteli and randyorton'sgirl.

Ch. 14

The longë love that in my thought doth harbour

And in mine hert doth keep his residence,

Into my face presseth with bold pretence

And therein campeth, spreading his banner.

She that me learneth to love and suffer

And will that my trust and lustës negligence

Be rayned by reason, shame, and reverence,

With his hardiness taketh displeasure.

Wherewithall unto the hert's forest he fleeth,

Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry,

And there him hideth and not appeareth.

What may I do when my master feareth

But in the field with him to live and die?

For good is the life ending faithfully.

~Sir Thomas Wyatt

Whitehall Palace 12th April 1537

The king's niece was a sight to behold as she walked down the aisle on the arm of her father, Charles Brandon. Eleanor was a spitting image of her mother, the trademark Tudor hair falling in spirals down her back. She wore a cream-colored gown in the French fashion, white flowers sewn into the bodice with pearls. She wore a cream veil as well, a coronet gifted from her father resting on her head.

The king stood proudly on the bride's side of the arranged pews, Charles following into line next to the king. The queen stood next to the Duchess of Suffolk, both women holding their pregnant bellies. They were due around the same time and had much to discuss. And with the queen occupied, she did not realize when her husband cast a glance at Grace Neville.

Grace sat with her sister-in-law, Margaret Percy, looking the image of perfection as she watched the nuptials. She continued to wear the Percy colors which irritated the king further with her presence. She kept her focus, not even turning his way when she felt the heat of his gaze on her. And when the ceremony was over, the new couple walked down the aisle with the king and queen following behind. They were to hold a reception in their honor in the royal gardens.

"Majesty," all the courtiers muttered as Henry and Jane walked past. It was at that moment that Grace finally allowed the king to make eye contact with her. Her eyes lifted ever so effortlessly from the ground and the king swallowed hard. Those green eyes always seemed to haunt him, and he painfully tore his blue orbs away.

The wedding reception proceeded nicely, all the courtiers saying their congratulations to the married couple. Henry Clifford looked quite pleased with his blushing bide on his arm and doted on her hand, and foot. It was young love, much unlike the king's marriage which was plagued with tension on the impending birth of an heir. Though the king was extra attentive to his wife, there was still the threat of what would happen if the pregnancy did not end well.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" the king questioned. He sat with the queen at their own banquet table, the married couple placed in the seats of honor. The king and queen sat to the left of the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk.

Jane nodded, rubbing her swollen belly. She was around three months along and had just started showing. Her morning sickness still bothered her, but she had not been sick that day yet. "We are both well. I have not been ill this morning as usual."

"You aren't too hot? Do you need to talk a walk?" Jane smiled at her husband's worries.

"I am perfectly fine," Jane replied. Henry took her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her palm. He had been so loving to her lately, Jane finally feeling a burden be taken from her soldiers. She was carrying the king's child and was the king's one true love. Her position was secure as well as her family's.

"Very well." The king rose from his seat, going to mingle with his subjects while Jane relaxed at the table. She frowned when she saw the Duchess of Gloucester across the gardens, but the king walked straight past her as if he hadn't even noticed. A victorious smirk appeared on Jane's face as Grace's eyes peered up at the table. She turned to her father, laughing at the childish expression on the queen's face.

"What is it?" Warwick questioned, his daughter's behavior puzzling him. He looked towards Jane, her smirk sliding off her features when she realized Grace was unaffected by the king's treatment. And when he looked to his daughter, he was further confused. Her eyes followed the king, an idea forming in her head when she realized what he was after.

"Nothing father. If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Grace headed in the direction of the king, her father watching cautiously as she disappeared into the hedges. She was up to something, though he wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish.

Grace quietly strolled through the gardens, listening intently for what she was searching for. She heard muffled noses the farther she went, coming around the corner to see the king and his mistress interlocked in an intimate embrace. She had seen Anne Bassett slip away, though she lacked being discreet. The king had hurried after her, Grace noticing immediately.

Grace thought she would have been pleased at catching the king, but she blanched when she saw the king with his mistress. All her feelings had started to resurface for him. Or perhaps it was her hormones from her pregnancy still affecting her. She couldn't tear her eyes away as she watched the king lift Anne Bassett's skirts before hoisting her into his arms.

Anne giggled as the king buried his face into the crook of her heck, neither of them aware they were being watched. He held her against an oak tree, Anne holding on to him tightly as he thrust in and out of her. Henry was met with a moan for every thrust and moved his face from Anne's neck to her lips, kissing her desperately as he let out his frustrations on her.

Henry's movements only became harder as he quickened his pace. He had to cover Anne's mouth with his hand to prevent her from screaming with pleasure as she squeezed her legs around him. His other hand was wrapped around her waist as he continued to plunge into her until both climaxed.

Henry released Anne from his grip slowly, her legs wobbly as her feet hit the ground. The king still had a hold on her as she settled herself and she looked up at him with a dazed look in her eye. Their lips connected once more, Anne grinning brightly when he stepped back to allow her room to fix herself. It was then that Henry saw motion behind Anne's head and his dark eyes zeroed in on Grace. Lust turned to guilt when he saw the distressed look Grace sent him and she backed away towards where the reception was still occurring.

Henry smoothed his clothes over, grabbing Anne's arms tightly. "Stay here for a moment so no one notices." He went to hurry after Grace but could not as Anne had grabbed his sleeve.

"But…" Anne muttered, confused at his sudden departure. Henry sent her a warning look.

"You must stay here unless you want someone to realize you were with me." Anne nodded her head meekly, letting the king go as he rushed towards Grace. She had disappeared from his sight, having practically ran back to celebrations before the tears started.

Grace spotted Ambassador Chapuys, latching onto him immediately. "Ambassador, I am glad to see you. I have something to show you."

"My lady," Chapuys voiced, surprised at her sudden appearance and her grip on his arm. "I have much to discuss with you. But what is this surprise," he spoke in his thick Spanish accent. He noticed the sharp look Warwick sent his daughter before looking in another direction. The king had also just reentered the party, searching for some unknown object quite earnestly.

Grace started to lead Chapuys further and further away from the king, sending Henry a smirk. He was puzzled, Grace never sending him such a malicious look. It was then he realized Anne Bassett had followed him back to the event, her eyes holding a look of yearning. All the courtiers saw, many of them starting to snicker and gossip amongst each other. The king turned to Anne, giving her the most venomous look. He didn't like when his private matters became public, and she was causing a scene.

"I came across them in the gardens. How scandalous," Grace whispered into Chapuys ear, the ambassador having mixed emotions. When he saw the king's mistress behind the man, he was shocked that she had the decency to show herself in such a position in front of the queen. On the other hand, Grace was the one who orchestrated such an event. She had set herself up as bait which the king willingly fell for.

"You knew he would follow you?" Chapuys questioned. He was impressed with Grace. She was more cunning than he gathered. The Duchess of Gloucester had a dark side.

"Well, when the opportunity presented itself, I thought it would enlighten the queen to her husband's activities." Jane stood among her brothers with a fake smile plastered on her face. Her eyes betrayed her. She felt nothing but deceit when her Anne returned to the side of her other ladies and Henry had the audacity to act if nothing was amiss. She looked at Edward for help, but her eldest brother ignored her. He too proceeded as if he saw nothing.

"You can be a snake when you wish, my lady," Chapuys continued. Grace giggled at his comment. He had no idea what she could be.

"Precisely." Grace's voice was smooth yet sharp at the same time. She was a weapon of chaos when she wanted to be, yet her innocent features disguised her true intentions.

"Onto another matter, congratulations are in order for the birth of your daughter." Grace smiled slightly. No one knew the true identity of her daughter and if anyone discovered her secret, it would be used against her.

"Thank you, ambassador. She brings much joy to my husband and I," Grace replied.

"And how is your husband fairing?" Chapuys questioned. He had heard Percy's health was declining rapidly and was the reason for Grace's appearance at court.

"He is weak, but he is fighting. I pray every day that he may recover from this illness, but I fear it may take him soon," Grace relayed, her voice breaking slightly at the end of her sentence. Her grip tightened on Chapuys arm, the ambassador patting her hand in a comforting manner.

"I shall pray for him daily and I will inform the emperor of your difficulties." Grace nodded in thanks.

"Thank you, ambassador. And how is the emperor's war?" Grace asked Chapuys. She knew how the war was going but wanted a little more insight from the Spanish perspective.

"My lady, we all know you favor the French," Chapuys joked with her. Grace had been partially raised in France and though she was close to Princess Mary, she still clearly favored a French alliance. However, she knew the advantages of the emperor winning the war as well.

"Just because I favor him does not mean I am not concerned for the emperor. Besides, I care for Mary and does her fate not rest with the outcome? Whoever wins the king will surely marry her to the victor," Grace voiced.

"Well played, my lady. Well played." Chapuys was once again impressed with Grace's wit.

It was at that moment a large twig snapped; Grace curious at the noise as she peeked her head around another hedge. She shrugged her shoulders, continuing her conversation with Chapuys as if nothing had happened. "Is the infante still the proposed suitor?" she questioned, forgetting all about the loud noise she had just heard.

Once the voices had died down, Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he released Elizabeth Seymour from his tight grip. The young lovers were terrified at having almost been caught. He scanned the gardens carefully, looking from behind the tree they were hiding behind. "There's no one else," he muttered silently, Elizabeth nodding as she smoothed down her clothes and fixed her hair. Arthur sent her a boyish smile, his hands cupping her face gently. "I will speak to my father immediately."

"About what?" Elizabeth questioned with a knowing smile. She knew what Arthur was going to ask. She had been waiting for it.

"I would like to make you my wife," Arthur replied. Elizabeth giggled, giving him a light kiss. All her fortunes were turning around. Her family had cast her aside and now Arthur Neville was saving her from ruin. She loved him, much unlike her first husband. She felt protected with him, adored by him. It was the first time she had felt happiness in years. And it didn't matter that she had children. Arthur would accept them as his own. They would be raised alongside his nieces and nephews. They would be raised as Nevilles, not Seymours.

"We must do so in secret," Elizabeth replied. "I cannot speak to my brothers about this. They would forbid it." She feared their reaction to her proposal. Verbal or physical, she would have received a lashing and she did not want to be on the end of her brother's anger. Her brothers would also send her away and marry her off to someone either old or abusive. She doubted Mr. Cromwell would help her. She already reprimanded herself for even sending him the letter in March about marriage prospects.

"We will talk to my father. I promise you he will not tell your brothers." Arthur still looked troubled though. His father had done the same for John when he married Mary Boleyn. Would he do so for him? It was the exact situation his brother endured. Arthur knew without the Seymours' permission he could have serious consequences. The sister of the queen was still eligible for marriage and considered the closest to royalty so her marriage to him would be an act of treason. "I will speak to the king."

"The king? No, you mustn't. He will tell Edward." Fear overtook Elizabeth's emotions, her hands holding tightly to Arthur's doublet.

"You must trust me, my love. The king will allow us to marry. You must have faith in me," Arthur insisted. He knew the king would listen to his plea. He would not stand in the way, not when his sister was still the object of his affections. At least that was what he hoped.

Whitehall Palace 13th April 1537

It had been a quiet evening for Grace as she sulked in her chambers the night before. That morning was no different. She sat in her nightclothes while she gazed at the fireplace intently and with a frown on her face. It wasn't until her father burst in that she was awoken from her haze. "What was that scene you caused in the gardens yesterday? You placed us in a very precarious position." Warwick's tone was deadly, his facial features fierce as he stared down his only daughter.

"We are in a precarious position, father? I beg to differ." Grace crossed her arms across her chance, defensive against her father. She despised how he was making this her fault.

"You exposed the king in front of his pregnant wife. What on earth possessed you to do that?" Warwick did not approve of Grace's actions yesterday. She merely posed more of a threat to herself.

"So, he's allowed to proceed as he is? As if he's done nothing wrong?" Grace pushed. Warwick huffed in irritation and distress. He knew he had to tread lightly. She was in a delicate position, one her husband and he himself had forced her into.

"He's the king, Grace. Of course, he has done nothing wrong. You are the one who made a mistake." Warwick only meant that the court did not perceive the king's actions as wrong. The king could do as he pleased/ He had mistresses before, and he would have them now. And Grace was being judged harshly for her actions. Even if she was right, she was wrong in the eyes of the courtiers.

"I am the guilty one? Not the man who parades around his flock of women proudly when his wife is pregnant?" Grace abruptly stood from her chair, laughing sarcastically as she spoke of the king's behavior. She began pacing erratically, biting her lip because of her stress.

"This isn't about, Jane, is it?" Warwick asked cautiously. It only spurred on Grace's mood more. Her gaze would have cut him through if it were able.

"According to you it is. Let's all worry about the new queen and her unborn child because she will give the king his one true heir." Grace's jealousy came pouring out like Warwick had expected. He knew something has been bothering her. She loved Percy. He was her true love, but the king had been her first.

"Grace…" Warwick studied his daughter carefully. Her hard exterior was cracking rapidly because of his interrogation. She needed this though. Warwick needed it to happen for his daughter. She buried her feelings deep inside of her until she was triggered. Then she collapsed all together and that could not happen in front of the king. She could reveal everything to him and then she would be under his control once more.

"Should we forget one important detail?" Grace was crying hysterically now, clutching tightly to the mantel of the fireplace with her back to her father.

"Grace, that will do." Warwick needed her stop now, needed her to calm down before she lost her senses.

"I've given the king a daughter. A bastard, but a daughter nevertheless." Grace started rambling now, words pouring from her mouth like a waterfall as her fit was now in full swing. Her eyes were red from her tears and the rubbing around her eyes as she cried. "And if I had married him, we wouldn't have been here. But perhaps fate had other plans for me. Just like this child inside of me." She placed her hand on her stomach gently, laughing at the thought. One bastard Tudor and a legitimate Percy instead of two Tudor heirs. Her fate was cruel. There was also a "what if' scenario stuck in the back of her mind.

Warwick could only stare at his daughter with pity. Grace must have recently realized she was with child again, so soon after having Rosalind. "Grace, you must calm yourself for the baby's sake." Grace nodded, falling into her father's arms as he opened them wide for her. She cried into his chest, her hands holding his doublet tightly.

"I can't do this father. I can't," Grace wailed into her father's chest, her eyes shedding tears which started to dampen his clothes. She needed his comfort, needed to feel like her father was not using her for his own gain. He had pushed her to be there, if only to save the innocent men in the tower and her husband's name.

"You must Grace. You must do this for your child. For your husband. And for yourself." Warwick hated that he had to force his daughter to remain at court. Despised himself for making her do something that was breaking her. But if he didn't, the king would take everything away just as quick as he had given it.

Whitehall Palace 15th April 1537

Henry was reviewing the letters he had written to Bishop Gardiner and Sir Francis Bryan regarding the arrival of Pole in Paris. He had advised Gardiner to spread a report of aid to the Emperor against the French and Henry's dislike of the French king's allowance of Pole in his realm. Francis had made his abhorrence of Pole clear, but Gardiner had stated he saw such things differently. Henry's anger was at a high, his blood curling as his eyes glazed over his handwriting.

Henry's fury was sparked even more when a page announced the Duchess of Gloucester's presence. He had meant to send for her after what she had caused the other day, but he had forgotten as he drowned himself in his work. It seemed she had made the first move now. His eyes scanned over her features, noting how impeccably dressed she was as always. She wore a light blue dress that day with a floral pattern over white on the bodice and underskirt. Her hair had been pulled into a gold net with a French hood on top of her head. The only jewelry she wore were pearl earrings, her signature cross necklace missing.

Henry ignored her for a moment, his dark clothing matching his mood. He stuck to darker attire now, his silver chain standing out. It swayed back and forth while he leaned over the table at his papers before acknowledging Grace, but he still hadn't looked her way. "Your behavior was unacceptable," Henry scolded her. He attempted some type of control before he lost himself to rage. "How dare you act that way in front of the court and insult me.

Henry was surprised to see Grace standing so that he only saw her from a side profile. Her eyes were glued to something on his chamber walls, and she held no defiance in her body language. "You are right. I apologize for my actions." Henry started at her in bewilderment, his attention diverted from his papers and now solely on her. Grace never acted like this. It was completely opposite of her character.

Grace stared at the silver cross on the wall, her uncles Christmas gift to the king all those years ago. He reminded her what she was there for; to save those men as she saved her uncle. She turned to face the king; her head bowed submissively. "I should not have acted in such a manner. It was not befitting of my status, and I ask for your majesty's forgiveness."

Again, Henry could only stare back at her with a baffled expression. He had expected her to fight, to show that fire he always lusted after. Grace finally connected eyes with the king, lowering them back quickly to the floor. She was trying her hardest to hold her tongue. "And you don't have anything else to say?" He had wanted her to reply, to scream at him, but Grace remained quiet. She merely shook her head and waited for the king to continue talking. "Something is wrong." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Nothing is wrong, your majesty. Again, I realize the mistake I made." Grace was short and simple in her response, showing hardly any emotion.

"Your mistake or my mistake?" Grace knew Henry was baiting her and she couldn't hold it in any longer, replying with her sharp tongue.

"You have made far more mistakes than I have." Grace's hand slammed down harshly on the table and her tone full of anger. But her eyes betrayed her. They had glassed over, and the sobbing began. "You claim you love your wife and yet you have a mistress. You say you will be faithful to her and yet she carries your child while you whore behind her back." Henry would have responded in ire if not for the crying. She was much more sensitive than usual. "It may be a right for a king, expected for him to have a mistress, but does that not affect your conscience?"

Henry could not respond, his weakness for her having been ignited as soon as he witnessed her emotions. He could not muster the energy to yell, seeing her so broken. It was as if his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth.

"Is that why you betrayed me? Because making mistakes is nature to you?" Still, Henry gave Grace no response. Her words froze him to his core. She was broken and it was his doing.

"You gave me no choice," Henry finally muttered, guilt-ridden when he saw the pained glint in Grace's green eyes. He could get lost in those eyes forever if he desired.

"You're right. It was my fault, my decision. And I'm grateful for it because I have the one thing you would never have given me. Fidelity and loyalty. Percy loves me unconditionally and gives me my freedom, something you never would have allowed," Grace declared. She alluded to the king's many mistresses once more. She knew it would strike a chord in him. He would never be faithful to Jane, just as he had done to Catherine and Anne. He would have done the same to her. And he also would have restricted her power as he did to Jane. He would have made her obedient and quiet as he had tried to do with Anne.

"Do not judge me on matters that have not occurred. I would have left her for you, and you know it. I would have given you everything just to have you. And because I did not chase after you, I have lost you and yet I still love you. Your daughter could have been mine. You could have been my queen, but you refused." Henry was offended by Grace's treatment of him. She had no idea how their relationship would have been if they were married. She would have been enough for him, but deep down he knew she was right, and he hated her for that. He loved her and hated her equally.

"I refused because I had fallen in love with Percy and he with me." Grace was just as stubborn as he was, fuming at him now as she defended herself justly. Percy had been her savior. He had been her support and love when she needed it most.

"I should have never let you go." Henry's eyes were glistening with tears and frustration as he rubbed his eyes indignantly. He was disconcerted that Grace had this affect over him still. And when he saw her in the same state as he, he chuckled darkly. He walked towards her, his steps painfully slow as if her were deliberately giving her the chance to flee. And when he stood in front of her, she was now chained to her position.

Grace could only move her eyes from the floor to Henry's face, trembling as he wiped the tears from her face. She didn't dare make a noise, though she was entirely overtaken by fear. She feared what he would do. He inched his face closer, and she opened her mouth in a small gasp. Their noses touched and Henry exhaled something akin to release. However, he made no move towards her lips, his face moving upwards to her forehead where he gently kissed her. Nothing more.

No words were spoken when Henry stepped away from her. All Grace could do was flee his chambers, the tension too much for her. Henry allowed her to leave. He would not force her to remain in that room with him with emotions running high. He could scare her away again and that was the last thing he needed. But Grace's task had been accomplished. The king's cold heart had opened to her once more.

Wressle Castle 22nd April 1537

Percy lay weak in his bed at his ancestral home, his mother constantly at his side. She had taken the role of caretaker with Grace away at court. Not that she minded. She knew the mission her son had given her. She also knew the true father of her granddaughter, but she did not hold it against Grace.

"Mother," Percy whispered, Catherine having to lean in further to aid her son as he tried to sit himself up. "You must call for Richard Neville. I need to speak with him about. Matter of the utmost importance."

"I will do as you ask," Catherine replied. "Now, you must rest before you hurt yourself." Percy nodded before he began to cough blood, Catherine watching in distress as he drenched the cloths provided for his illness. She hated seeing her son this way. He was her firstborn, her golden boy. And her other sons awaited judgment in the tower for his crimes against England.

"It's getting worse," Catherine Cried. "You don't have much time. Grace needs to be here. She needs to be with you and Rosalind."

"No. She needs to be at court right now," Percy responded when he gathered his breath. "She is the only one who can save Thomas and Ingelram. She is the only person the king will listen to."

"You believe after all this time he will still consider her counsel above all others?" Catherine questioned, dabbing her son's forehead with a cool cloth.

"I do," Percy said with determination.

"And you aren't at all worried that her past love for the king will overshadow her quest? You aren't at all worried that she still loves him?" Catherine raised a good point. Henry was the father of Grace's child, a child born from the consummation of a union of not only love but bargaining as well. Grace had given her maidenhead to the king. She saved her most beloved queen and friend. But she had walked away from him. She had the strength to leave him even though he would have made her queen.

"I know she still loves him, mother. She will always love him. But she also remembers the pain he caused her and the threat he still poses if her discovered Rosalind. And she's in love with me, not the king." It was hard for Percy to swallow, and it felt like vinegar in his mouth having to admit that. He knew Grace loved him more. She had chosen him over the king.

"And will you be able to accept her actions, even if some are proven to be necessary?" Catherine asked, a curious expression on her son's face.

"Catherine pressed further. "Will you be able to accept if she must lay with the king to convince him of her loyalty to her? So that she can save your brothers?" Percy could only stare back at his mother blankly. He had considered the possibility of it happening. Could he forgive Grace? But more importantly, could he forgive himself for putting Grace in that position?

A/N: Comments?