The Other Henry VIII

Nothing Lasts Forever

Hey readers,

Today is my three-year anniversary of writing on Wattpad. I can't tell you how grateful and appreciative I am for all of the support on this book over the years; without it, I wouldn't have made it past five chapters. To me, it seemed fitting to update on this day and thank everyone who reads this. I am fully aware that there are several plot holes and inconsistencies in this book, partly because I am very forgetful and partly because this story is long and I always manage to confuse myself somehow. I apologise for the confusion about ages of characters, appearances and dates. If it helps, at the moment, Henry is 32, Leia is 21, Marianne is 22, James is 13, Clara is 11 and Lizzie is 5.
All I hope now is that we all finish this journey together when I (finally) complete this book.

~ RedPanda1203

Leia stopped dead in her tracks. Her legs were half a moment from giving way and her eyes were as wide as saucers, shiny as marbles. She felt the deep pangs of shock reverberate through her body like it was made of paper, reaching the tips of every finger and toe. Her lip quivered, imploring her brain to be allowed to speak, as Marianne approached her with a gleeful smirking playing upon her lips. Beside Leia, the Countess sighed wearily, as if she had foreseen it all.

"Cousin," greeted Marianne complacently, looking Leia up and down with a critical eye. "Or should I say Your Majesty? Or, perhaps you are not even Queen yet?" She was not rewarded with an answer.
Instead, Leia turned to her sister-in-law, struck with a sudden understanding in the pit of her stomach. "You knew of this?" Margaret nodded; she could not bear to lie anymore.
"Of course she knew!" exclaimed Marianne animatedly, "After all, it was her who took me into her household!"
"You're not John Westerly's mistress, I gather," whispered the Queen, pleading with herself that she was not correct.
"A coverup. We needed one, after all, and the clueless idiot is so besotted with me that he'd do anything. But the Countess here... she did not even ask questions."

Leia finally met her cousin's eyes. Marianne seemed so triumphant, so self-satisfied. Her dark eyes glistened like glass. "It's my husband's child, isn't it?"
There was no hesitation.
"Of course. Tell him, if you wish," she snapped daringly. "I always told you that your throne is mine. I give you a couple of months at most. By then, I shall have his son in my arms and I will be the Queen of England. And you shall have nothing!"
And then, she was gone, ambling slowly back down the path with her hands caressing her belly with gloating pride. For a minute, though it felt like countless hours, the two remaining women stood in utter silence. Then, Margaret curtsied, her eyes to the ground, and followed Marianne's footsteps back to the manor-house.

The thoughts were tumbling about inside Leia's mind, knotted like ropes, blowing about like dried leaves in the wind. She attempted in vain to pull herself together, running her hands over her face over and over again, scolding herself for ever thinking that marrying the King was the better option. It was a dead end road and she should have known that. How could she have assumed that Marianne was gone, out of her way forever? Now, there was no way back. No fork in the path, no easy escape. Leia knew exactly how the King's mind worked: marry and spoil the woman who can provide a son and heir. Nothing else would matter, not even his 'love'.

For now, if she wanted to be crowned Queen, there was nothing else left to do but keep Marianne's secret.

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13 November 1523
Clara could not even remember what this feast was celebrating. Perhaps there was no reason and her father just needed something to console himself from his wife's continued lack of pregnancy. She had ensured that Lizzie was tucked up in bed before coming downstairs, since she recalled the hazy confusion of her childhood when her nursemaid abandoned her on the sidelines of the dancing for all hours of the night. It made sense that the poor little child, who had scarcely even known her mother, should have a far better experience than her elder sister.