The Other Henry VIII

The Toll of Death

Part Two

30 May 1517
"It's all my fault, Cathy, it's all my fault!"wailed Diana, banging her pillow repeatedly with every syllable. Catherine sighed, and sat on the bed next to her cousin.
"Don't fret,"she whispered soothingly, stroking Diana's hair.
"How can I not fret? Now that there is no Queen to wait upon, we will all lose our positions and everything will be horrible!" Catherine sighed.
"You won't, Diana. The King likes you, you'll stay at court. Perhaps he'll make you Queen?"
"If he does, it won't be for another few months, maybe even years! How will I wait that long when I am already 22 years old and quite unwanted for any sane man? If the King marries someone else, I will rot in my father's house until I'm an old maid!"
"No, Diana, no. Listen, you must get the King to marry you, it's important! Think of what that would do to our family. And you would have Prince George and Princess Clara in your power! Please, Diana."

After Catherine had gone, Diana lay on her bed for a few minutes. How could she marry Henry now? He still adored Sophia, even though she was dead, and nothing could change that now. There was a light knock at the door, and Diana called out "come in if you like, and don't if you don't, it's simple!"
"The toll of death has ruined your mood,"said Thomas Cromwell, shutting the door behind him. "Shame. The palace needs someone like you to cheer it up."
"If you've come to lecture me, than you might as well go away,"said Diana, sniffing.
"No. I have come to console you. Your cousin—sweet creature–sent me to."
"Catherine is a sweet girl, yes, but I don't need your cheering up,"replied Diana ungratefully.
"Look, if you're feeling guilty—"he begun.
"Of course I'm feeling guilty!"interrupted Diana, "what do you expect? I made her life a misery by being here, and she gave up life because she thought that Henry loved me, and she wanted to make him happy! She died for his happiness! Only now do I realise... Many things. I realise that though I tried to hate her, she was like a sister to me. She gave me advice, and she taught me to hope for love! And now she's dead...... I miss her so much. She would know what to do in this position! And I also realise...... I also realise that I have ruined my life. I tried so hard to make the King want me, I spent 4 years trying, but now I have what I want, I don't want it anymore. I know now that I don't love the King. Sophia loved him enough to die for him, but I wouldn't even willingly hurt myself to make him happy! Oh Thomas, what have I done?" And after that long speech, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed.
She wept and wept, mumbling about how she had torn apart the kingdom and murdered the Queen, and Cromwell listened. The unspoken sympathy was enough, and Diana, feeling a little better, finally drew back, and said apologetically "I am sorry, I didn't mean to throw myself at you!"
"I don't mind,"smiled Cromwell, "and you can rant as much as you want as well." Diana laughed, then stopped and looked puzzled. "What is it?"he asked.
"I–I don't know. It's a queer feeling......"she turned around and strode towards the window with a troubled expression.
"What is?"he repeated, following her.
"Please go away. Leave,"she murmured, pushing off the hand he had put on her shoulder.
"Do you really mean that?"he replied, grasping her wrist.
"I—" Diana turned to face him, and his curious expression. "I'm not—"
She wasn't quite sure what made her do it exactly, nor did she know what the outcome would be, but Diana wrapped her arms around Cromwell's neck and kissed him. It was a dangerous move to make, she knew, but her heart wouldn't relent. To Diana's surprise, he did not push her away, but kiss her back, his arms around her waist; for a few moments, they were locked together, until a modest tap on the door broke them apart.
"Come in,"said Diana, smiling at Cromwell.
Catherine stepped in, and Cromwell took that as a cue to leave abruptly. When he had gone, Catherine walked up to Diana and said "what did you do that for?"
"What did I do what for?"replied Diana, gulping.
"You kissed him, I saw! What made you do it?"
"I don't really know myself, but I felt like—wait, how do you know I kissed him?" Catherine laughed.
"I didn't know, but I guessed. You were panting, and were standing way too close and staring at each other. I just confirmed it!"
"Oh Cathy, you are so annoying!"

31 May 1517
Diana rose with a fleeting desire to be completely and utterly happy. She bounced around while she got dressed into her plain cream lady-in-waiting dress, and smiled at everyone in the corridors. Well, at least until she met the King. He was still looking sad, but his eyes lit up when he saw Diana.
"Ah, Lady Diana. I would like you to remain at court for now, so that you may be lady-in-waiting for my next Queen. Well, if I have one..... I trust you are attending So—Her Majesty's funeral?"
He can't even say her name, thought Diana sadly.
"Yes, I must, but I have no funeral gown."
"You may use the Queen's one—she only ever wore it once,"he suggested, "and if you would like it, I will send it to your chamber."
"Yes please,"said Diana politely and hurried off before he could say anything else. She blushed as she walked away, and felt slightly guilty, but that was interrupted by the sound of a messenger crying out "Your Majesty! His Grace, the Prince George of Wales! He is very ill! Help!" Everyone at court seemed to hurtle about trying to help, and Diana, feeling useless, picked up her skirts and ran up to the chamber where the Prince slept. She attempted to get in, and help George, but the crowd of physicians and courtiers made it too hard, and soon Diana was thrust back to the corridor. She picked herself up from the floor, straightened her headdress and waited.
She waited a long time.
Gradually, people began to file out, and Diana looked round to see what was happening. Soon, the room seemed to be empty, and Diana entered quietly. There was the silhouette of a man, in front of the fire, bending over the little cradle, and Diana walked towards it curiously.
"I didn't say that you could come in here,"said Henry, turning to face her in the dim twilight.
"You didn't say I couldn't,"replied Diana tempestuously.
"Sparky as always,"sighed the King, turning to the baby that lay in the cradle, and Diana saw tears in his eyes.
"What is the matter?"asked Diana.
"My son—my wife's legacy is gone! My son is dead!"and he fell to the floor with his head in his hands. Diana gasped, and peered into the cradle. A pale, motionless baby lay there peacefully, still folded in his protective blankets.
"Scarlet fever? Shame. But you must bring the Princess Clara and her godmother back to court, Your Majesty, for they are all the family you have left,"she exclaimed, looking down at him pityingly.
"Who died and made you the boss? It certainly wasn't me,"answered Henry, but stood up and faced Diana. "I don't know what I would do without you, Lady Diana. I must remarry, I know I must, but I can't bring myself to betray Sophia. I loved her so much, but when I had her, I neglected her, and now she's gone....... I wish I had appreciated her more." Diana stayed silent, which was hard for her, but she did. She listened as the King explained his woes to her, while daydreaming about her future with Cromwell.

"I will see you at the funeral then, Lady Diana. And thank you for listening to me, it means a lot,"he said, and bowed to her respectfully. Diana wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but she curtsied as he left anyway.

It certainly explained the anonymous parcel of new dresses she received the next morning anyhow.