Henry was at a loss. True, his attention was more focused on the war with the French than on the happenings in his own court, mainly with Anne Boleyn.

What surprised him the most was that Anne agreed to be his Mistress, after years of her stating that her maidenhood was not to be touched by any man but her husband, Henry knew that the Boleyns were becoming desperate.

And desperate people make mistakes.

Henry's private moments with Anne was filled with sweet promises of love, devotion and sons, all he needed to do was divorce Catherine but with the Pope being stubborn and the Emperor of Spain backing the Vatican's support it was hard.

Cromwell had intercepted Catherine's letters to Spain and the Pope in hopes of finding any evidence of treason but came up empty handed as her letters were mostly asking for aide in keeping her crown and blessings to give England her long awaited Prince of Wales, there were some letters even mentioning Isabella De Angelo which Henry remembered that the young girl had familiarly ties to the Pope.

Henry then remembered the letter that the Pope wrote, stating he would grant him an annulment if Anne Boleyn was not to be Queen, now that she was set to be his Maîtresse-en-titre, any hopes of Anne being Queen was out of the question.

There was nothing stopping the Pope from granting the divorce now.

"Bring my writing tools, I shall write a letter to the Pope."


Word of Anne's new position was reported back to Catherine, which made the Queen laugh quite loudly that some of her ladies stopped their needlework, Isabella included.

Anne played the game with her family and her reputation on the line for the King's love and the Queen's crown, now she was to be nothing but Maîtresse-en-titre... A whore.

Henry's Maîtresse-en-titre, but a whore nonetheless.

Catherine knew the game was far from over, with Anne out of the equation it was the matter of time before another ambitious Lord or Duke to push their daughters in front of the King in hopes of achieving what the Boleyns could not, they were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard.

The players may have changed but the game was still the same.

Catherine did not see Isabella as a mere pawn. The youthful maiden had traits suitable for a Queen, perhaps even Queen of England.

Now it was the matter of getting Henry to see those traits.

"Have you heard?" Catherine spoke to Isabella as they broke for fast after evening prayer. "Anne Boleyn is set to be the King's Maîtresse-en-titre."

"Your majesty," Isabella replied, nibbling on her bottom lip as she removed Catherine's rosary and placed it in the small box beside the Queen's bed. "Would that mean her place beside the King is permanent?"

"Indeed, but that also means she is no longer able to become Queen." Catherine laughed, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle her laughter. "Her family's ambition had cost her greatly, she will be remembered as nothing but the King's Puta."

"Yes, your majesty." Isabella agreed, helping Catherine to remove her Spanish hood and began the process of unbraiding the Queen's hair.

"The matter is now the King will still want an annulment and seek a new Queen."

"Your majesty, you cannot think that!"

Catherine patted Isabella's hand softly. "I admire your loyalty towards me, Isabella but you and I both know that I am old. My monthly courses have ended, my womb is barren and the King does not visit my bed anymore even before Anne Boleyn came to court. He still wishes to replace me as Queen, England needs an heir and I cannot give them one."

"Your majesty..."

Catherine raised her hand, waving off Isabella's pity. "I do not need nor do I want your pity, Lady Isabella. This is the life of a woman, we can be disposed of and replaced if we cannot do what God created us for. Now, I believe I have taken up most of your time. You may go and dine with your family."

"Yes, your majesty." Isabella replied, curtseying deeply and left Catherine with nothing but her thoughts.


Anne had thought the moment she agreed to become his Mistress, Henry would have asked her to come to his bed that very night, but instead he gave her a small beautiful and sweet smile that Anne felt happy and content in that moment.

Henry swept her up into a passionate kiss and loving embrace, Anne believed that his love and devotion would be enough.

And then he left.

He fucken left her hot and bothered between the legs, where doubt crept in and Anne could not help but wonder if she had made a mistake.

Days that followed turned into nights, Henry made no invitations for Anne to come to his bed, and she did not invite him to her own. Thomas Boleyn and Norfolk began to believe that the King's interests in Anne had begun to fade, George was slightly optimistic as Anne voiced her opinion that Henry wanted to favour the chase just a little longer as men find it more thrilling than the act itself.

They could not help but agree.

Anne's heart and body ached for him despite the thoughts of being just like her sister, Mary, another Mistress for the King to dispose of when he becomes bored and looks for a new plaything.

Henry's lingering touches, teasing smiles and haunting kisses almost drove Anne to insanity and it was only her pride stopping her from pleading... begging him to come to her.

Still, late in the night Anne paced in front of the fireplace of her family's chambers with nothing but her reoccurring paranoid thoughts for company, she could not help but think that Henry had a Harem somewhere and that is why he has not asked for her company.

Anne could not help but think what would have if the King grew tired of her, would he at least find her a suitable match? Or would he simply have her exiled from court never to be heard of again? Would John Butler even take her as his wife even though she was a ruined woman and former Mistress of the King? What if she births a child and Henry refused to acknowledge it?

Anne shook her head slightly. No, Henry loves her. She could not and will not bear to even think those thoughts. Though, despite her confidence in the King's love for her, he is a man.

And a man's love can be fickle.

Her parents' marriage and even her own Uncle's marriage was proof of that.

Their wives turned a blind eye to their husband's infidelity, there was no rumoured illegitimate children born out of Thomas Boleyn's short lived affairs but Norfolk had at least two known bastards and who knows how many more.

Whispers of whore and harlot followed Anne, everywhere she went, but she kept her head held high and matched each stare that cane her way.

It was nothing she had not heard before, but Anne suspected that since it was made clear that she would not be Queen, many had grown quite bold to loudly vocalise their judgemental opinions of her.

Anne stared at a particularly brazen noble woman, who was a couple years older than herself whispering loudly to her friends of how quickly the King would dispose of her when he had her... just like her sister.

Anne smiled sweetly at their judgemental glances behind the decorative fans to keep themselves cool from the heat rising from the sun and the dimity lit candles.

She did not care for them or their love anymore, only Henry's.

Just as she was about to leave, she caught a glimpse of Isabella De Angelo, the only person that had not cast any judgement her way as of yet.

Isabella was busy having a small discussion with her father, once they noticed Anne looking their way, Isabella gave a small curtsey and returned to the conversation with Lord De Angelo.