There was to be a feast to celebrate one of the many Saints, Henry couldn't exactly remember which Saint, but since England was devoted to the Catholic faith- it was custom to celebrate them.
Usually, the Queen avoided such gatherings as these, so Henry escorted Anne to the feast, but he stopped as Catherine sat upon the Queen's throne and she wasn't alone.
Sitting in her lap was his beloved Pearl, Mary, who happened to be having a conversation with the maiden that had caught his attention a few nights ago; who had distracted him from what he originally went to speak to Catherine about.
Henry's spies within the noble families that occupy his court came back with the needed information regarding the new woman in the Queen's service, Isabella De Angelo. A woman of noble birth, granddaughter of the retired Italian Ambassador and cousin to one of the many illegitimate nephews of the Pope, her mother also had Royal lineage within the French bloodline. Rumours also state that Isabella's older sister was a mistress of the French King, but there was no actual proof to these rumours as Francis had yet to make it official.
Anne's grip on Henry's hand tightened before dropping into deep curtsey to Catherine, who gave no attention to the Boleyn woman.
"My Queen." Henry spoke, bowing his head, his eyes immediately fell onto Isabella.
"Husband."
Mary wriggled out of Catherine's hold, walking over to Henry, curtseying deeply. "Your majesty."
Henry held out his arms, allowing Mary to run into them. "Mary, my sweet Pearl."
The King immediately noticed that Catherine was wearing a dress made of dark purple, gold embroidered silk flowers lined the sleeves and her hair was covered with a Spanish Hood- the fashion was fit for a woman of her age and station. Some of her elderly ladies wore similar gowns of deep blues and greens.
The only one to stand out slightly was Isabella.
Isabella wore a dress of emerald green that matched her eyes with black lace trim that hemmed the cleavage and sleeves, from under the small Spanish hood, her hair was pulled into an elegant style as some loose curls framed her face.
Henry found himself comparing Isabella to Anne, who stood off to the side with Norfolk and her father, her sharp eyes dancing between Henry and the Queen-
It was true he was seeking an annulment for his marriage to Catherine, but it did not mean that Anne was to be his next wife, her noble birth and family status wouldn't allow it- no matter if Henry made her a Marquess and Thomas Boleyn an Earl, the law was the law.
Heavens, even Isabella De Angelo had more chances of becoming Queen of England than Anne ever could, Henry felt guilty for stringing Anne for almost seven years with hopes of becoming Queen- he even kept his promise of not taking another mistress as long as Anne held any feelings for him.
Though he was starting to become bored of this ruse- Henry was almost ready to break away from the Catholic Church in order to be free from Catherine.
When the King offered Catherine to dance with him, as she was still the Queen, she had fiend tiredness and offered the Lady Isabella in her honour.
Catherine observed with keen eyes as the Boleyn family glared at the woman who had occupied the King's attention. A small smirk came across her face as Anne Boleyn seemed annoyed more than anything.
The music was light, easy enough for Isabella and the King to dance to. He couldn't help but feel a slight spark between them as they touched. It was as if no one else were in the room. It was Henry and Isabella. They danced for a while, and when the music came to an end- Henry was brought back to reality.
"Thank you for the dance, Lady Isabella."
"Your majesty." She replied, falling into a deep curtsey, the light dancing off her golden hair like a halo.
The awkward silence between them was immediately broken as the music tune changed, Henry bowed as Isabella was immediately whisked away by some nobleman, he watched as she blended in with the crowd then came back into focus- something or someone was pulling him to her.
The Royal couple watched as Princess Mary joined the crowd, coupled with Duke of Suffolk. Her movements were skilled and flawless; even for her young age. A natural talent for a Princess of England.
Henry's attention flickered over to Anne Boleyn, who was dancing with John Butler, the heir of the Butler family. The Butlers and Boleyns had been in a long-term feud over a piece of land that divided between the estates, and a marriage alliance between John and Anne was discussed before Henry took interest in the Lady Anne
Naturally, should the King lose interest in Anne and her virtue still intact, then the marriage between John and Anne would be swift and quick to save any reputation the Boleyn family could hold onto.
It was weird not to feel the slightest bit of jealousy as Anne danced with eligible bachelors of high and low status since she, too, was not married and was not even the Mistress of the King.
Thomas Boleyn watched as the King's eyes landed on Anne, dancing with Henry Percy. He locked eyes with Norfolk - their plan was coming into full swing. True, there was that little issue of the De Angelo girl gaining a slither of the King's attention but he barely glanced her way afterwards, the hold Anne had over the King was too great and all their efforts will not be in vain.
Soon, Anne would become Queen and give England it's long awaited heir, then she would repay them for their efforts in getting her the crown.
Thomas then glanced over at Isabella De Angelo, making her way back towards the Queen, he watched as Henry's eyes flickered over towards the girl- Thomas nudged George, who was more interested in getting drunk than looking for a potential wife to give him heirs.
Glancing over at the King, following his eyes, George inwardly groaned- of cause he would have to intercept the woman that could be an issue for his father's and uncle's plans to place Anne on the English throne, if it gets him away from Jane Parker, than he was immediately grateful.
That girl was becoming a thorn in George's side, ever since Mary's wedding to William Carey, and he flirted with her cause she seemed rather upset - she had clung to him.
In her mind, they were to be married, and she was to be the next Lady Boleyn.
Every single girl was taught to marry of equal or higher status but never marry down, Elizabeth Boleyn was never a woman to follow that as she married Thomas Boleyn out of love instead of status.
The English nobility looked down on the Boleyns ever since, and now that both Mary and Anne Boleyn were favoured by the King, the Boleyn family's status has risen higher.
Thomas was now an Earl, George was the new Lord of Rochford, and Anne was to become the Marquess of Pembroke.
George approached the Queen, giving a short bow, completely ignoring the glares he was currently receiving from Jane Parker as he locked eyes on Isabella. "Forgive my bluntness, your Majesty, but may I ask the Lady Isabella for a dance?"
Catherine arched an eyebrow, observing the youthful Lord in front of her.
Did they take her to be a fool?
Her eyes moved over towards the Boleyns and Norfolk, they were busy muttering between themselves, glancing every now amd then towards the Queen but their main attention was towards Anne, who was busy dancing amongst the eligible bachelors since she was an unmarried woman and the King has not confirmed the rumors that she was his mistress which meant that Anne was free to seek a husband.
The elder queen also noticed how her husband, the King, eavesdropped on their conversation, and she noticed how his grip tightened on his goblet at the mere mention of Isabella's name coming from George's mouth.
"You may." Catherine nodded her head slightly as Isabella placed the water jugback on the table, curtseying deeply to her Queen before taking hold of George's hand and joining the dancing couples.
The dance was easy enough. What annoyed Isabella the most was how, with every dance step, George held on to her tighter. It was as if he was trying to control her movements.
Did he really believe she was that easily controlled?
Isabella purposely missteps, slamming her heel onto his foot, taking instant pleasure at the pained expression on his face. "Forgive me, my Lord. I misstepped."
"You are forgiven, my Lady."
Continuing the dance, Isabella eyes glanced over towards Jane Parker. "Forgive my sudden bluntness, Lord Rochford, but why are you not dancing with Mistress Parker?"
George inwardly groaned, letting out a small sigh. "She bores me."
"Are you not courting her?" Isabella asked, her tone cheerful and innocent.
"Good God, no. We are not courting." George huffed, looking rather grim at the idea of courting the plain Jane Parker. "She is rather... Plain looking."
"Some would say the same about you, Lord Rochford." Isabella smiled sweetly at his annoyed expression, continuing on with her words. "What do you have that the other eligible bachelors do not? Forgive me, but when it comes to attraction of faces, yours is not that remarkable and rather plain."
The dance came to an end, Isabella quickly withdrew her hand from his grip, curtseying briefly and walking back towards the queen. Leaving a rather embarrassed Lord Rochford behind.
Henry quickly intercepted Isabella, noticing the grim look upon her face. "Are you well, Lady Isabella?"
"Your majesty." She responded, curtseying deeply enough for him to take a small peek at what little cleavage her dress allowed. "I believe I may have insulted Lord Rochford."
"Oh? Pray tell me, how did you insult him?"
Isabella shifted slightly. "Lord Rochford stated that the Lady Jane Parker was rather borish and plain. I simply asked what qualities he had as a man that other men did not have. As far as looks go, he is rather borish and plain."
Henry let out a booming laugh, which the music almost drowned out. "And what of my looks? Am I rather plain looking?"
"No, your majesty." She spoke, stroking his ego a little. "You are remarkable to look at and admire."
Henry takes hold of her hand, placing a small peck upon her knuckles. "Until we meet again, Lady Isabella."
Isabella lowered into a curtsey. "Your majesty."
When Isabella returned to Catherine, they shared a small look, a small smirk danced across the Queen's lips, which went unnoticed by many.
Catherine made a note to scold Isabella for her insulting words to Lord Rochford, but the aging woman found it more laughable that Isabella was skilled with an insulting tongue, it was then that Catherine knew she had picked the perfect woman to rival against Anne Boleyn.