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Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Royal Birth.

22nd of February 1532 - London, England

"My Lord Bedford, how fairs mine and the Queen's Goddaughter?" Henry asked turning to look at his brother-in-law, he had been most pleased with his return from Beulieu where he had spent the past couple of months. The news that the Duchess of Bedford had been delivered of a healthy baby girl had been a stark reminder of what may happen when Anne was delivered of her own child.

Despite the fact that the astrologers had asserted that Anne would give him the son that he was desperate for, but the same had been said of Katherine who had given him one living child while the rest had perished. Every care had been taken for Anne's health and that of their unborn child's while she laboured this day, God willing there would be no issues and he would finally have the heir that he was in desperate need of. The news had arrived that morning that Anne's labour had begun and Henry was most relieved to have both George and Thomas by his side at this time.

"She is well, Your Majesty. She grows more beautiful like her mother with each day," George boasted with a smile, it amazed him how much Contessina had changed in the short time since her birth. It had almost made him stay away from court longer wishing to be around her and not miss a moment; he could not phantom how much she would have changed in the time while he was at court.

Thomas Boleyn snorted at that and shook his head, he could not believe that Clarice had failed in delivering the heir that his son needed; he had not laid eyes on the child and had no intentions of doing so. It was imperative that Clarice gave son since God willing, George would be the Duke of Bedford and Wiltshire, Earl of Ormond when he had passed away; titles that would need to be passed on to a son lest they fall to another family or the line become extinct. Mary's children by her late husband would have a claim but they were Careys not Boleyns, it would not do for the Boleyn name to die out and it was a shame that George was his only surviving son.

"I want jousts, banquets and masques to celebrate the birth of my son," Henry mused as they started down the stairs, people bowing to them as they passed but he paid them no mind knowing that today was the day. Anne had been labouring for a few hours now and Henry had no doubts that it would not be long before there would be some sort of news; he couldn't remember the last time felt this anxious about the birth of a child. He'd suffered many great disappoints when Katherine had been pregnant, God had punished them by taking six of their seven children from them: most never living to be born.

"I've already asked the French Ambassador to hold him at the font for his christening, if he drops him it's war," Henry declared much to the amusement of Thomas and George who followed him through the palace. His merry mood could not be tainted this day and he was already considering who he might be honouring to celebrate the birth of his son; he had a few people in mind and he hoped that would please Anne. Should she succeed in delivering him a son this day and secure the Tudor dynasty then Henry knew that he would do anything to please her; she would have earned it and nothing could be worthy of what she was giving him.

Walking through the halls, Henry was pleased that everything was in order and when the moment came that the bells would be rung to let all of England know of their Prince's birth. No celebration could be too grand for the birth of a Prince, it had been many years since they'd had a true reason to celebrate such a thing.

The only son that Henry had at present was Lord Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Richmond and Somerset but he was a bastard and Henry was in desperate need of a legitimate heir to his throne. Appearing around the corner, Cromwell paused for a moment catching sight of the Boleyn men and the King; he had news to share with them and he knew that it could not wait.

"Your Majesty," Cromwell greeted bowing his head, he had just received the news from one of Anne's ladies that Her Majesty had been delivered and had come straight to find the King to share the news.

Kneeling before the altar, Lady Mary whispered zealously her fingers working the rosary that she had been gifted by her mother for her birthday; she had been most pleased with the celebrates that had been held at court for her sixteenth birthday. It had been a grand affair and Lady Mary had been treated as the first lady of court since the Queen was in confinement awaiting the birth of her child.

The chapel around her was silent and her ladies did not speak a word while they waited for their new mistress to arise; her household had been complete reformed and several of her favourites had been dismissed. It had been no surprise that some of the new ladies that now served her where spies of the Queen and her family; she had noticed that one or two of her ladies were cousins of the Queen.

Stepping into the chapel, Lady Mary Dannett hesitated for a moment before making her way over to her mistress and offering her a low curtsy before she stepped forward and whispered the news that she had been sent to deliver. Her words bringing Lady Mary's actions to a complete stop, her eyes squeezing closed and she did not say a word as her lady slowly stepped back away from her.

Her hands clenched around the rosary and she could not stop the tears from falling, when her father had remarried there had still been hope in her heart that she might one day be Queen but now her hope was gone. Queen Anne had done what her beloved mother could not, she had delivered a healthy son for her father and he would be the next King of England.

Lady Mary was not sure what that meant for her, she was nothing and now she would never be anything; no promise that her father made to her mother would be worth it now that the throne was completely lost to her. No title that her father could offer her would be as good as the one that she lost, she felt anger that she had never felt before and she cursed her mother for doing this to her.

Everything that had happened to her was because of her mother and her deception; she had messed everything up by not only concealing evidence of her consummation of her marriage to Prince Arthur but betraying her father. Lowering her head to the floor, Lady Mary allowed herself this moment to weep knowing that she would be summoned soon enough to pay court to the Queen and the new Prince.

Hesitating by the door to the Queen's chambers, Henry could not quite bring himself to step inside knowing that what lay inside was more like a dream; he had waited so long for this moment and his dear Anne had done it. He took a deep breath to prepare himself before moving to enter her chambers, the bells rang out across London in celebration and he had ordered that ale should be handed out to the masses to celebrate.

Her ladies offered Henry a curtsy as he came into view, the room quiet apart from the celebrations that could be heard; he paused by the doors to her bedchamber to watch her. When he laid eyes on Anne, he couldn't help but think that she had never looked more beautiful than she did now holding their son in her arms; her dark hair tied back away from her face.

"My love. Come and meet our son," Anne called softly, a small smile on her face as she looked to Henry knowing that this was better than she could have ever imagined. Anne stared down at her son, she could not believe that she had done it that she had given the King and her beloved the son that he desired; she looked down at him almost afraid that if she blinked that he would disappear.

He was perfect and Anne had no doubts that he would be the most handsome prince in all of Christendom; she could already pick out bits of Henry in their son. Slowly making his way over to Anne, Henry's eyes moved to focus on the small bundle in her arms and the infant that lay inside the blankets; he felt breathless just looking upon the child.

Carefully handing over their boy, Anne smiled watching Henry hold him for the first time; a feeling of pride settled in her chest at the fact that she had done what she had promised, she had given Henry a son. Their most beautiful boy would bring about a Golden age for England for that Anne was certain, it was God's will that he had been born and no one not even the Pope would stand in their way now.

So Anne has been delivered of a Prince, please take the poll to decide his name.

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