The Other Henry VIII

Blood's Thicker than Water

15th January 1523~ The Starling Apartments
Catherine's POV

Grandfather has called another family meeting.
I'm so sick of this. Why can he not just accept that we have fallen from favour, acknowledge that we need time to recuperate and be grateful that he kept his title? That is all he seems to care about, after all.

As I approach the chamber, a smaller one as our previous place was given over to some other family, I swallow down my irritation in a heartbeat. I know I have been blessed with not having the Starling hot temper Diana, Uncle and Grandfather all possess but I still don't trust myself to keep my mouth shut.
"Mistress Catherine," greets John Westerly as he approaches from the other direction. He is still tall and lean as ever, those tired green eyes so weary and his face almost gaunt. "Or is it Lady Catherine? I never keep up with fluctuating titles these days." His voice is flat and dull, and I notice that his arms are empty of his nephew.

"Neither, My Lord Rochford. We are cousins, after all." I surprise myself with my own monotonous voice—I did not realise I was so tired as well.
We enter together and I gaze about at our scattered family, all with matching expressions. All except Grandfather. He looks as if we are still the most rich and powerful family at court. Why can he not understand that we will never be in power again? Our whole family is in pieces and he calls this meeting for what? To make us even mored ashamed?

John throws himself down into an armchair opposite Sir James Starling, who sits equally carelessly in his own couch. I walk past them cautiously, past Grandfather who is enthusiastically scribbling on what I can only presume to be that awful family tree from last time. My heavy eyes rest on two good-looking men, sitting together at the table and whispering constantly in each other's ear. Who are they, I wonder? Surely Starlings, with that thick dark hair and those clever brown-green eyes?
I take a seat opposite them, leaving a space next to me for my sister Jane and her daughter, but neither even seem to notice me.

Once Jane arrives, Grandfather stands up. The whole chamber silences at once.
"It is high time that we start working our way back towards the throne. We have been out of power long enough but we must be patient and plan carefully. Our next candidate—" here, he places his second finger firmly on the parchment where I see Anne's name circled and annotated heavily in black, "—will be my lovely great-granddaughter Mistress Anne Saxby."

All our eyes fix on Anne, who sits slouched in her chair looking as disinterested as you can get.
"It's Starling, not Saxby... My Lord," she replies haughtily, only adding the title after Jane squeezes her hand. Grandfather raises an eyebrow, then grins maliciously. "I see you have inherited the sharp tongue of the Starlings, unlike your mother." He glares pointedly at Jane, who shudders and looks away.

"I don't think that made much difference to the King in the end," quips one of the mysterious young men brightly, receiving a laugh from John and the man sitting next to him.  Even Uncle James seems quite amused but Grandfather is evidently wanting to change the subject. I don't dare smile in case he sees me and rages.

"Silence! This is no time for taunting within our own family. We must concentrate on those bloody Westovers," snaps Uncle James, slapping his hand on the armrest next to him with a surprisingly loud sound following. "What do you get out of making fun of your cousin? Hm? She went closer to the throne in a matter of days than most of you have in your entire lives!"

Naturally, John chooses this moment to cough loudly. The two men break into cackles of laughter, banging on the table as the three of them banter, and I decide to use this to my advantage. "Jane," I whisper, only moving slightly towards her. "Who are they? Why does Uncle James scold them like that?"