“Do not worry about me; what happened was for the best.” They looked up at me, probably thinking I had gone mad, but I explained myself. “I will soon be with child again. The next son I bear will not be doubtful like this one, that was born while Katherine was still alive.”

  But as I said the words, I knew I was just trying to convince myself. I was now older than Katherine was when she had her last pregnancy; there was not much chance of me getting pregnant again. But I would try. I had to. They nodded, pretending to agree, but I knew they didn’t believe it either.

  February 1536

  Henry left me, just as he did when I lost our other son. At least this time he had an excuse. Shrovetide celebrations were upon us, as well as the last session of the Reformation Parliament. He still didn’t say goodbye, but maybe he hadn’t abandoned me completely. Maybe.

  I tried to ignore Jane’s presence as much as I could, trying to forget what I saw between her and my husband. But as I watched her pace nervously through my rooms, I couldn’t help thinking, did he love her? Was she more than just a mistress?

  I wasn’t going to say anything, but I couldn’t help myself when I saw her repeatedly touching her necklace. The motion became so frequent, that eventually, I summoned her.

  “Mistress Seymour, please come over here.” I tried to remain as polite as I could. She stared at me for a moment, somehow going paler than she already was. “Yes, you.” I repeated, my tone becoming irritated, and she quickly hurried over.

  “Yes, your Majesty?” Once again, she touched her necklace, looking more anxious than ever.

  “What have you got there?” I expected her to show me properly, but instead, she just moved her hand away from it for a second, before placing it back again. “Show me.” I demanded, making her come closer and hold it away from her neck.

  Part of me sensed trouble, but I inspected it anyway. It was a jeweled pendant, fairly expensive looking. But what startled me most wasn’t the value; it was the image of Henry.

  “Your Majesty, I…” she started to stutter an apology, but I wasn’t going to let her.

  “How dare you!”

  I ripped the necklace from her neck, breaking it. She gasped in shock and I threw it across the room, ignoring my own pain. My finger had sliced open on the chain, but it wasn’t my finger that hurt me. It was my heart.

  “Go! Get out of my sight!” I shouted before turning away from the rest of my ladies, trying to hide my sorrow.

  He did love her, but I was going to win him back. I wasn’t going to be Katherine.

  I decided to start focusing my attention on Elizabeth. If I did that, maybe I’d be able to stop getting lost in my own sadness. I bought endless clothes for her, perhaps spoiling her, but I didn’t care. She was my only child, and even though she was just a girl, I loved her with all my heart. My work obviously paid off, as I was soon deemed well enough to return to court and Henry sent for me to join him at Whitehall. This is where the work began. I had to act happy, show him that I wasn’t going to let this get me down.

  When I arrived, I wasn’t greeted well. The court had moved on since my miscarriage, and everyone seemed as happy as ever. As I walked into the great hall, only a few people, mostly my enemies, glanced up before returning to what they were doing.

  But they didn’t matter. Henry mattered. We sat together during meals and other events, but we had to, we were still the King and Queen.

  “I’m sorry.” I whispered so only he could hear me.

  “Don’t be sorry; we can have another. We still have time.” He didn’t look at me when he spoke and I followed his gaze to Jane Seymour.

  “Yes… we still have time.” I sighed. I wasn’t even sure if he heard me.

  I didn’t have his attention anymore, another woman did. At that, Jane turned and looked at him, smiling and pretending to be shy. She then curtseyed before leaving the hall. I clenched my fists and willed myself not to make a scene.

  “Mother, I want to dismiss Jane Seymour from my service, but I fear it will anger the King.” I paced the room, lost in thought, talking partly to myself.

  “The Seymours are a cunning family, but you need to focus only on conceiving again. Remember what your father always said…”

  “…give him a son and no one can threaten you.” I finished her sentence with growing frustration. “But it’s not that simple!” My hands found their way to my belly and my voice fell to a low murmur. “I can’t give him a son.”

  Suddenly, Mother crossed the room and forced me to look up at her. “Don’t say that; you will still give him a son. You have to… or we are ruined.”

  She wasn’t as strict as Father, a lot of the time she was more sensitive, but even she realised how fragile our situation was. It all depended on this. It always had.

  March 1536

  For a while, I thought the court had settled, but I was wrong. I soon learned that Jane Seymour’s brother, Edward, had been made a gentleman of the King’s Privy Chamber. That meant that he was even closer to Henry, not as close as my family, but it made me think. Henry must have done it for a reason, and that reason was obviously Jane. His affection for her had to be increasing, even if it was being kept hidden. I thought back to years ago when my sister-in-law and I spoke about George’s rise at court. He had always been popular, but he had undoubtedly risen even higher thanks to me. I recalled her chilling words.

  “He will always be in the King’s favour as long as you are his wife.”

  Without another moment’s pause, I ordered a messenger to ask George to see me. My brother would know what to do. He always did.

  “Edward Seymour has been made a gentleman of the Privy Chamber.” I said straight away, wanting to know his thoughts.

  He shrugged his shoulders and sighed when he saw my expression. “I know you, Sister, you’re thinking too much into this. It’s just a sign of goodwill, I’m sure.”

  But his words fell on deaf ears. “No, it’s because he loves that whore Jane Seymour.” I spat, almost shouting in frustration. George glanced at his wife, Jane, and she looked back at him. They were both unsure as to what to say.

  “He loves you; he will always love you.” Jane tried to calm me, taking George’s hand and staring up at him.

  But even though she was speaking to me, it was as if I wasn’t in the room. They were saying it to each other, not me. I knew they hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time together, not with how often I needed my brother, but they could have waited.

  I turned away, shaking my head and looking out the window. There were many times where the pleasant view had calmed me, but this was not one of those times.

  “I need a son.” I whispered.

  George was busy kissing Jane, but he glanced at me for a second before sighing. He leaned down to put his lips by her ear and whispered something I couldn’t hear. But whatever it was, it made her leave. He watched her go a little wistfully, but I had to admit, I was relieved. Seeing them together like that just made me feel worse about the state of my own marriage.

  I sat on the bed, almost as if in a trance. “I need a son.” I couldn’t stop saying it.

  “I know you do, and you will have one.” he sat on the bed next to me, and for a moment, it was just like when we were younger. We would have long talks on my bed once he had snuck in. The only difference was that our sister was there, too.

  “Perhaps I’m cursed, just like Katherine was cursed. I have had two dead children, George. Two dead sons!”

  He took my hand to steady me. “But you still have time, and as you said, the children were conceived while Katherine was still alive. The next son won’t be. The next will be lucky.”

  I soon found out there was more happening at court involving the Seymours. Cromwell had given up his rooms for Edward and his wife. I didn’t quite understand the meaning of this, other than them rising in favour, but why Cromwell’s rooms? There had to be a deeper meaning. But I didn’t start an argument, as I would have a few years ago. I had to be careful now, and so, other than Elizabeth, I kept myself focused only on the dissolution of the monasteries.

  It was something that Cromwell and I had been working on for a while. I had said that I would persuade the King to our way of thinking, to give the confiscated riches from the monasteries to charitable causes, but I hadn’t been able to. I hadn’t had the chance. I hoped that Cromwell was convincing Henry instead; he was closer to him than I was right now. I also hoped that Cromwell gave his rooms to the Seymours only to keep his favour with Henry, and not for any other reasons.

  But as I had now said so many times before… I was wrong.

  “Secretary Cromwell.” I greeted him as he entered the room.

  Bowing a little, he smiled. “Your Majesty, what can I do for you?”

  I gestured for him to sit, but when he did, I stayed standing. It was a strategic move. He was lower than me in more ways than one.

  “I wanted an update on the dissolution of the monasteries.”

  I, the Queen of England, already knew what was happening. However, I was curious as to whether he would tell me the truth.

  “It is going well, your Majesty, as well as our reformation. England will be changed for the better by the end of the year.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “For the better? Oh, I don’t think so.”

  He looked up at me, feigning surprise, but I didn’t back down.

  “I think that you are using this to advance your own interests.”

  Jumping to his feet, he protested, “No, your Majesty, I…”

  “We agreed that the money from the monasteries would be used for education and charitable purposes, but instead, you are filling your own pockets!”

  “I have made the King and you very rich people. The King will be the most powerful and richest King in Europe.”

  His reasons were unconvincing. The King was rich already and others needed the money more. He saw the look on my face, and tried again.

  “It will help Elizabeth…”

  But I cut him off, grabbing him by the neck. “Don’t. Don’t you drag Elizabeth into this. You are corrupt, Mr. Cromwell.” I lowered my voice and stood face to face with him, keeping my hard grasp on his neck. There was one more thing I needed to ask. “Is it true you have given your rooms to the Seymours?” He didn’t answer, so I asked again, my anger starting to overwhelm me. “Is it true?”

  He nodded and I released him. “It’s true.” he whispered, his face pale.

  “You write me off, but I will tell the King of this. I can still crush you.” I warned, keeping my eyes on his the whole time. “I would watch that head of yours. One day, when you least expect, it may come off.”

  Then I sent him away, unable to deal with him any longer. I knew I shouldn’t have said everything I did, but he needed to learn his place. I was still the Queen, he needed to obey me. Breathing hard, I leaned against the table.

  How had I gotten into this situation?

  April 1536

  I decided to reinforce my message to Cromwell, by organising a sermon that my almoner, John Skip, would preach. Cromwell was a smart man. He would surely see that it was directed at him.

  The sermon was on the Old Testament story of Queen Esther. Henry and I, along with many other courtiers, watched as Skip preached this sermon. He told the story of King Ahasuerus, who was married to Esther. Ahasuerus was deceived by his adviser, Haman, into ordering the killing of the Jews. But Esther changed the King’s mind, and the Jews were saved. When Ahasuerus learned of his advisor’s treachery, Haman was sent to death by hanging.

  Cromwell was obviously Haman, and Henry was Ahasuerus. I was Esther, the good wife of the King. People stared in shock as he preached this sermon, but I sat back and smiled. My threat was echoing in the halls.

  “You organised that sermon.” Henry stated afterwards when we were alone.

  I nodded, not caring that I hadn’t asked his permission. “Yes, I did. Cromwell needed to learn his place.” I squeezed his hand, but he scowled at me and pulled it away. “You don’t agree?”

  “No… maybe…” he paused, unsure. “But you, Madam, are not Esther. You are nothing like the good Queen.”

  My voice temporarily failed me as I searched for a reply. “Cromwell wasn’t giving the riches from the monasteries to charitable causes, he was keeping it for the Crown.” I whispered, looking down in embarrassment. “I had not meant to anger you. I’m sorry.”

  “You are always sorry.” he murmured, before walking away from me.

  I stood in the middle of the room, a cold draft from the window brushing over me as I closed my eyes, thinking. John Skip was in trouble because of me. I should have been more careful with him. I didn’t have many allies left, and I suddenly felt very alone.

  Henry and I didn’t speak for a few days. The something unexpected happened. Late at night, I was summoned to the King’s rooms. I waited by the door until Henry called me in, beckoning me over to the bed, and moving over so that I could sit next to him. Then he took me in his arms. But all the while, neither of us said a word.

  I wished he would speak; tell me that everything was alright. He didn’t, but at the same time, I was here. He was holding me. He must have forgiven me for Skip’s sermon and going against Cromwell. Forgiven me for losing our son.

  “I love you.” I finally whispered, hoping for some response. He held me tighter, kissing my forehead.

  “I know.”

  He didn’t say he loved me back.

  We didn’t make love that night, just slept next to each other. In the morning, Henry informed me of his plan to get Chapuys to finally acknowledge me as Queen. He didn’t sound too emotional, even slightly cold, but the words he was saying meant that he still wanted me. Why else would he want Chapuys’ acknowledgement?

  He went to mass with Chapuys, leaving me strategically behind. But after a while, I went after them, as per my instructions. Chapuys had always avoided me, and had never called me Queen. There were even rumours that he still called me the Lady Anne; that he called me names like the King’s Mistress and the Concubine. But now that Katherine was dead, he should acknowledge me. There was no other Queen of England.

  When I entered the chapel, I couldn’t see him. I rotated around, searching, when I suddenly saw Chapuys behind the door. There was a split second’s pause, in which he stared at my face impassively, and then he suddenly bowed. I couldn’t believe it! If a man in Chapuys’ position bowed, it was a sign of acceptance from not only him, but from the Emperor as well. Unable to retrain my smile, I returned his bow with a curtsey.

  Then, out of nowhere, Henry appeared in between us. Laughing, I ran into his arms and hugged him tight. At long last, our plan had worked.

  “I love you too.” Henry finally whispered. I looked up in his eyes and we kissed deeply.

  And just like that, all was well again.

  A few days later, something strange happened. I had convinced, or thought I had convinced, Henry to make George a Knight of the Garter. After a long while, a position had finally opened up and I thought George was a perfect candidate. But he was denied the post. Instead, the title was given to Nicholas Carew, another enemy of mine and a suspected friend of the Seymours.

  Why? I wasn’t sure. I thought Henry and I had reconciled; it should have been easy to do this for my brother.

  Something was happening, I just wasn’t sure what.

  On one of the few times I was able to relax, another problem arose. Elizabeth Somerset, now nearly full term with her child, confided in me.

  “I’m sorry to ask your Majesty, but my child has not stirred for a while now. I’m worried, for I’ve had many things on my mind. Maybe I’m poisoning the baby’s thoughts?” she touched her bump, looking at me with worry.

  I stifled a small sigh. I couldn’t help but think, that’s what I should be looking like now.

  Dismissing those thoughts, I beckoned her over. Her belly was swollen under her dress and I rested my hand lightly upon it, willing myself to feel something for the child. But there was nothing.

  “What things do you have on your mind?” I looked up at her, trying to think of another way to fix things.

  “I hate to say, but my husband and I have been struggling with money. It’s been a burden for us, as well as the many misfortunes that have happened to you, our Queen.”

  So it was my fault. Now I really had to fix it.

  “If you borrowed one hundred pounds, would that help?”

  It was no small sum; it would be enough for them to live comfortably for a while and not have to worry. But apparently, it was the least I could do.

 

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