The Other Henry VIII

A Baby is Born Unto Us

12 July 1518, in the reign of King Henry VIII and Me, Diana Westerly (Fortunately)

Dear Diary,

I find myself changed, changed to what I used to be. A year or two ago, I would not have recognised myself now, but here I am: 8 months pregnant with a child I can't love; married to a man who is disinterested in me, aside from my looks (which I am slowly losing); and in love with a man I can never be with freely. A year ago, I was a free woman—vivacious, alluring and fiery, yes—but still free. My life was not controlled by a slippery King, who likes the look of as many women as the years he has lived; and all at one time!
I am still me, really, just a watered-down, weary version who's future might be ruined by the child it bears. Oh yes, the child.
I have just gone into confinement, that is how I have found the time to write this, and the baby is due in around two months or so. I dread childbirth, and have dreaded it since I first watched Queen Sophia in labour.
That baby had perished quicker than it had come.

My child may be a girl—there is a lingering hope that it might be a boy, but the chances are so vague. They will be beautiful, no doubt, what ever the sex.
I see the looks my husband gives to the ladies at court, or at least I did before I was confined. He is ploughing through the silly things so quickly, I think the country might run out of unconquered maidens by the time he is dead! But the most irritating is Leia Westover. I detest any person who has so much as a drop of Westover blood in them, like that Mistress Cecily, but she really is infuriating. And the looks my husband gives her.....they remind me of the ones he gave Queen Sophia every time she fell pregnant. I fear he is growing dreadfully attached to her, and though I don't care in the love side of things, I cannot stand having any wench, especially a Westover, upsetting my place on the throne of England. Yes! The Westerly pride is still inside me, even after all that's happened.
Today really was like every other, but I do live in fear that the baby might come early and die.
I close with dread in every piece of my cold, cold heart,
Diana Westerly, Queen of England

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King Henry VIII paced up and down his study impatiently, thinking of the son he was so close to having. His mind lingered a little on other thoughts, though, like Leia (she refused to leave his head) and the current state his country was in. It had been firmly decided that his kingdom was Protestant, by Thomas Cromwell, but there were still Catholic heretics and other faiths scattered across England like a horrible disease; places like Cornwall and York seemed to be scheming together. It all made his brain ache.

Then there was Sorrel Cavill. Plain, stupid, timid little Sorrel Cavill. If she is all her family has to offer as consolation for my wife's nonavailability, thought Henry, then it is an incredibly poor option. I have never had a mistress for such a short amount of time as her....Oh wait, yes I have.

If he couldn't have Leia, though, he would have to have someone else. Just until his son would be born, and then he could return to his wife..... There was Lady Catherine Starling, who was much prettier and bolder than when she had come to court, or perhaps Mary Sutherland? She was considered a beauty amongst most of the courtiers.

There was a knock on the door, and Henry was snapped back to reality.
"Come in,"he said.
A messenger opened the door, and declared "Your Majesty, Lord Edward Saxby and his wife Lady Jane Saxby have arrived, with their daughter."

"Who are they?"asked the King distractedly.
"Well, they live at Highmount Manor, and Lady Saxby is the older sister of Lady Catherine Starling who is at court waiting on Her Majesty..."explained the  messenger. The King nodded.
"How–how old is the daughter?"he asked curiously. Maybe she could be his next mistress? The Westerly-Starlings were a beautiful set of women.
"I do not know, Your Majesty, but you may find out at dinner?"said the messenger. He obviously wanted to leave, judging by the trickle of sweat on his forehead and the quick explanations.