Evermore

Chapter XI

BATTLES AHEAD

Tensions rose within court as Jane Seymour's was taken from Queen Anne's quarters and placed into a wooden carriage en route to the Tower of London. At first sight the young blonde appeared to be dead but a faint rise and fall of her chest signaled that she was still alive. At least for now for a certain death awaited her at the Tower of London, but before the carriage could depart from the palace a large crowd had gathered, murmuring with shock and disbelief at the unfolding events. Within that crowd stood the Queen's sister Mary Stafford who pushed her way through to the front, her eyes flashing with fear and concern.

Royal guards rushed over to the crowd , trying to keep order and disperse the growing mob. The commotion drew the attention of many within the palace, and the news of Jane Seymour's fate quickly spread through the whispers and anxious murmurs of the court. Mary felt it was her duty as a Christian to save her from her fate, while the guards continued to exchange tense words with the growing crowd. She slipped past them and pulled her from the carriage and into her arms. Her heart raced as she made a desperate plan to secure Jane's safety, without being seen by or stopped.

Mary glanced around, her mind racing as she scanned the area for a hidden escape route. Then once secured and with determination etched on her face, she made a beeline towards a concealed passage that she had stumbled upon while exploring the palace as a child. Jane Seymour barely had time to register her surroundings as Mary whisked her through the narrow, dimly lit corridor, her hands gripping her tightly. She didn't know why the Queen's sister was showing her mercy or whether that indeed was the case but she knew she had to trust her rescuer and follow along, hoping that this unexpected salvation would lead her to safety and far away from the palace.

Moments later, within the palace walls the king sat upon his throne motionless at the news of her escape, his eyes flitting from one advisor to another, his mind calculating the implications of her disappearance. But his worry for the wellness of his young queen would not allow him to dwell on the situation for long for her health had taken a turn for the worse. He dismissed the council and briskly made his way to the queen's chambers, his heart heavy with concern. His daughter Mary greeted him with an anxious expression, her eyes revealing the depth of her worry.

"What happened?" asked Henry as he approached his distressed daughter, his voice strained with worry and urgency.

"Jane Seymour attempted to attack her and though she was not successful in her attempt to harm the queen, she managed to upset her," Mary reported, her voice betraying her concern. "She's being tended to now, but is in a delicate situation. I called for help as soon as I could,"

Mary knew this not to be true. The Queen had attacked Jane first, but she needed her step-mother as an ally The truth weighed heavily on Mary, knowing there was more to the story. But she knew the politics of the palace, and it was not her place to accuse the queen and frankly it'd be foolish of her to do. Instead, she nodded gravely, her thoughts conflicted as her father approached her hardly conscious step-mother at her bed. Not a single ounce of regret filled her as her step-mother rose with every breath for she believed herself to have made the right choice in saving her. The godly choice.

"Anne..." whispered Henry as he took her hand into his and kneeled at her bedside.

Anne groaned within the darkness of her mind for the very smell of his unhealed leg ulcers nauseated her. "I need air," she uttered, panic slowly creeping into her voice as she began to regain consciousness. "I need air!"

Henry's heart ached as he witnessed her distress. Her ladies rushed to open the windows at her command and fanned the air around her.

"I can't breathe," she panicked as she slipped her hand away from Henry's and rushed out of her bed as the image of her brothers headless body became etched into her mind followed by that of Jane Seymour's charred body. "I can't breathe," her panic intensified as she rushed toward the nearest window. Her ladies lifting their skirts of the floor and jumping in her way to stop her from reaching it and possibly falling out.

"Anne, please, calm down," Henry implored, attempting to approach her carefully.

Mary stood back as her step-mother's panic unfolded into pure hysteria. Her eyes widening with horror as she realized the gravity of her distress. The gravity of what her father had done to her.

With a surge of strength and desperation, Henry lunged forward and enveloped Anne in his arms, shielding her from herself.

"Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me again!" Her voice trembled with anger and fear as tears streamed down her cheeks and she fought her way out of his arms, pushing him away with a strength born of desperation.

Mary became filled with something she never thought she'd have, sympathy for her step-mother. In that moment, she made a silent vow to support her in whatever way she could, overcoming the barriers that were previously between them.

The young queen darted for the window once freed from her husband's arms.

Mary threw herself in front of her, blocking her path.

"Leave!" commanded Henry and then one by one Anne's ladies flooded out of the room, each casting a worried glance back at the tumult inside and leaving the three of them alone. Henry glanced at Mary, his eyes pleading for her help, as he slowly approached Anne, his hands held up in a pacifying gesture. Anne shook her head and backed herself against her step-daughter, her eyes wide with fear and betrayal, her entire body trembling.

"Anne, please," Henry said, his voice filled with a mix of regret and desperation. "For our children."

Anne's eyes flashed with fierce determination. She stood her ground, her voice steady and firm. "I will not be swayed, Henry. Do you not see what you've done to me? You've turned me into a shell of my former self," Mary could feel the tension in the room, weighing on her like a heavy cloak. She stepped forward, her voice calm and measured. "Please, father.This is a delicate matter and it will not benefit anyone if we continue to add more stress to it." she dared to say.

Henry ignored her focusing his attention on Anne and Anne alone.

"Why couldn't you have stayed with Catherine? Why were you so determined to have me and don't say it's because you loved me because we both know you never have." said Anne, her voice cracked with the weight of her emotions, her eyes searching his face for any sign of remorse. " I should've tried harder to escape you, I should've fled the country, but now I see there's no escaping the havoc you bring."

Henry felt a pang of guilt, but deep down he knew he had chosen their path. He took a step closer to Anne, his eyes pleading. "I am sorry, Anne." He then turned and headed for the door but before he left he turned to look at Anne, his eyes filling with anger and resentment toward the woman who had once loved him. "Rest well for I intend on visiting your chambers once you're well enough to bed. One son won't be enough to secure my dynasty." He had had every intention of salvaging their marriage but it was more than evident to him now that there was nothing left to salvage. Nevertheless, she was still his wife and she was going to be forced to act as such for the sake of the country because he did not want to fail it like his father. He intended on having a magnitude of sons and she was going to be the one to bring them into the world whether she wanted to or not.

Anne's breath caught in her throat as Henry's words hung heavy in the air. The threat in his words sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized the battles ahead of her were far from over.