Tudor Rose

x. hearts and minds

April 25, 1519

It was particularly warm the day of Anne and George Boleyn's arrival. Eighteen and sixteen respectively, they had blossomed into fine people. Anne was quite a bit like me, with dark eyes and hair and a fierce temper, and it amused me. Years prior, she seemed like a snarky, willful teen girl with no morals or respect, but she'd grown up nicely. She was much more respectable now. Their mother, who was also my aunt, came with them upon my request. I had a marriage prospect to discuss with her regarding Anne. It was cruel of me to do it so secretly, but it seemed like the only way. I knew it would leave Henry livid, but I didn't care anymore. Everything seemed to upset him, even silly, trivial things like the weather, and his only consolation was Isabell's son who rested in the lavish nursery that once held our children. A son who wasn't even his, according to Mary Gavell.

"My lady aunt," I greeted, a halfhearted smile pasted upon my face "I am so happy to see you and Anne. George, too, but I doubt I will be seeing much of him. I imagine he'll want to spend as much time as he can with his new wife."

Her smile dissipated when I mentioned Isabell. "I wish you had intervened and stopped the marriage, my dear niece," she responded, "My title is to be passed to a harlot who used to be a maid! The shame!"

"I tried, but it was too late," I consoled, "But I have corresponded with King Francis of France, whose wife has just recently died following the birth of her second son, Henry. Cousin Anne is still unmarried despite being of marriageable age, correct?" 

"Yes," my aunt answered, looking astonished, "Oh, you mean to marry her to King Francis? Oh, Anna! What have I done to deserve such a thing?"

My expression remained; a cold, hollow look in my eyes. Actually, I was quite enthusiastic about the potential match but I didn't reveal my true feelings. Finally, I'd learned to conceal my rampant emotions. "Nothing. Francis embarrassed me when he called off the betrothal of our children and His Majesty has embarrassed me by having a son out of wedlock and then marrying the woman into my family. So, they will have to accept the proposal."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Aunt Elizabeth said kindly, a cheerful grin plastered on her olive face, "We are forever indebted to you." 

"Yes, it seems you are," was all that I managed to say.

__

"Your new ladies will be arriving soon," Henry informed, sitting adjacent to me. I looked up curiously from my own stack of boring documents, intrigued by what he was saying. "Cecily and Lydia are their names, I believe. Nineteen and sixteen, respectively."

"Cecily and Lydia Norwood?" I shrieked, my good mood being immediately spoiled, "Henry, you know full well that our families have been feuding for years! When my father was denied a marriage to Elizabeth Calloway, those girls' mother, it only reignited and stoked that old, worn out flame. If it had burned out, I would happily accept them into my household, but they will certainly serve as spies for their family. You are welcoming the enemy into our home. How can you? How can you endanger us and our daughters and... and our crowns?"

"My crown. You are merely a consort," Henry corrected, "You must simply put this foolish, petty arguing behind and take them into your household. A queen does not participate in these futile feuds based on nothing of importance." He paused for a second, collecting his composure. "Yes, they will be spies for their family, but so is every other family here. They are as much a danger to you and I, even our girls or my son, as... as the Grainger girl her or... or that cousin of yours. I believe her name is Octavia? Oh, and we both know how scheming Mary Boleyn was, and look at how easily you allowed Anne, George, and Elizabeth to come back to court."