xv. new arrivals

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January 29, 1514

I rushed over to Henry's side without hesitation. Katherine hovered a few feet away, confused and crying. The maids escorted her out, and I was silently grateful.

"Anna, please go. I don't want you to get sick," he said, "Katherine needs her mother."

Tears streamed down my face, and I collapsed to the ground beside my sickly husband. "No. You're going to get better. England needs you. Katherine needs you. I need you."

"I cherish my time with you more than all the riches in the world."

The guards came in quickly, pulling me away. I was taken to a carriage where Katherine was waiting quietly. I didn't have the strength to ask questions. My husband was on his probable deathbed, our daughter was much too young to be queen.

I leaned my head against the window of the carriage and watched the countryside pass by, slowly drifting off to sleep.

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February 21, 1514

"His Majesty the King."

I looked up from the stack of uninteresting documents I was reading. Though Henry had recovered from the sweating sickness shortly after I'd left, the doctors insisted on him staying secluded in case there was another outbreak. I was named regent in his absence again. After a month, they gave in and let him return to court.

I stood up immediately. He ran over, but stopped once he'd realized what was different about me. 

"You're pregnant again?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes."

"You didn't think to tell me?" He sounded hurt and angry, and rightfully so.

"I did, but I thought I should tell you in person," I explained, "And I became so busy."

"Is it even my child?" he asked accusingly, "I haven't seen you in a very long time."

"Of course it's your child! I'm about three months along."

Henry sighed, relieved. "When will the baby be born?"

"September."

"Does Katherine know?"

"Yes."

"Is she happy?"

"Elated."

"Did you explain to her how the line of succession will alter?"

"No! She's not even two years old."

"Fair enough."

I sat back down, pushing the stack of papers away. Henry sat adjacent to me silently. We basked in the awkward silence, neither of us sure what to say.

"I found a new ladies in waiting for you," Henry announced, "Anne and Mary Boleyn."

I had almost forgotten that I needed to find new ladies. Isabell and Sarah were the only remaining ladies of mine. Mary fell in love and humbly asked to marry, and I happily allowed her to, and Chloe died during the outbreak.

"How old are Anne and Mary?" I prompted, "Could you tell me about them?"

"Mary is fifteen, and Anne is thirteen. They're currently in France, but can travel here if you'd like to appoint them your ladies," Henry said, "Their father is Thomas Boleyn, 1st Earl of Witshire. Very distantly related to you, through marriage."

I nodded. "Anne is thirteen?"

"Yes."

"Henry, that's a child!"

"With her sister's guidance, and yours, I'm sure-"

"No. I'll appoint Mary, but Anne will stay in France and further her education. When she turns fifteen, she may join her sister," I reasoned, "Until then, I'd like to appoint Lady Clara Grainger."

"Fine. But tell me about her."

"She briefly served Beatrice last year, but Beatrice changed all of her ladies when I became queen," I said, "She comes from a very powerful family in Northern England. She's seventeen, so only two years younger than me and four younger than you. I hear she's very pretty, too."

Henry nodded. "She sounds very qualified. I'll alert the Boleyns and the Graingers of your decisions."

Henry exited the room swiftly, and Isabell rushed to take his place. Sarah continued sorting through my gowns and jewelry, but I knew she was listening, just like Isabell had been.

"Do you know what people say about that Boleyn girl?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"No. Should I be concerned?"

Isabell leaned forward, lowering her voice. "They call her 'The Great Whore'. People say she had an affair with the king of France! And they say Anne is likely to follow in her footsteps."

"I do not listen to silly rumors. Remember your place, Isabell. You are in no way superior to Mary or Anne Boleyn. Do I need to remind you how you got your title?" I scolded. "Do you know what some people say about me?"

"They call you wonderful things, Anna. 'The People's Queen'. 'The Best Queen England has Ever Seen'. 'The White Queen'."

"Yes, and people also call me terrible things. They call me a witch, a harlot, and they say I do not care for England," I said, "I may be queen, but I am not universally loved."

Isabell sat back, speechless. Unexpectedly, it was Sarah who chimed in next.

"If you give England a son, which I believe you will, they will have no choice but to love you."

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published august 18, 2020

a/n: i know i said i was gonna take a break, and i was planning on it, but i hit 1k reads (!!!!) and felt like writing another chapter so here ya go. now i will be actually taking a short break.

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