The Tudor Witness

Catalina looked up at the dark purple sky above her. Such a small, scared girl she was. Her sister Maria laid next to her, and she grasped her hand.

“Today was a good day,” Maria sighed and lay down on the warm ground full of lush grass.

From where they sat on a little hill they could see the hundreds of fields covered vines overflowing with grapes, workers using up the hours of sunlight until it was too dark to see.

She liked grape season. The air always had that fresh smell of sweet grapes. She liked seeing all the workers, when the grapes were collected, stomping around to make wine.

“Why can’t we go into the fields and pick some grapes with the workers?” she finally asked.

Her sister sighed. “I asked Juana that question just this morning. She told me I had much to learn, or something like that. ‘Tis nearly the end of grape season, yet I haven’t even put one grape into my mouth.”

“But why now are we not allowed to go and get grapes as the people work? Of course we will work with them to pay for the grapes so they don’t lose any money, but it just isn’t like past years.”

“Remember two years ago when you and I went out and ate so many grapes they nearly burst out our noses?” Maria laughed.

“That’s when Juana still spent time with us,” Catalina nodded sadly.

“You know how things are with Juana, now that she is thirteen. Father’s favorite, mother’s little angel. She’s loved by all, wanted as many princes’ betrothed. She is free to live her life however she pleases.”

The little girl was quiet.

“I hope you will some day understand and maybe have the wonderful life that our sister has,” Maria hugged her close as the sun finally set behind the hilly countryside.

The girl wondered. “I am only seven, Maria,” she sounded doubtful.

“Plenty of time to decide who you are, and who you want to be,” Maria shrugged. “You have three more years than I do, ‘tis for sure.”

Maria got up and began to walk back to the castle, but Catalina just sat there.
“Hurry along; mother will worry if you are not back with me. You know how she can get at times, especially with you,” Maria reminded.

But she sat and waited, thinking of her sister’s words. ‘Decide who you are, and who you want to be…’

She didn’t know she had a choice of who to be. She was a daughter of Spain, destined to marry a prince of some far-off country and that was that. Nothing to decide-nothing she had any say in anyway.

=+=

The Year 1526
Summer

I used to think that life was so wonderful, that nothing could ever happen; nothing could ever come and strike us.

My mother had me in her arms that morning, years ago, and I suddenly knew that the world was not as I thought.

My mother was sick, I knew. Her face was red, even if not for the blazing fire in our one room cottage. My older brother was standing in a corner, a parcel of his things in his arms.

“Listen to me, Elizabeth. You go with your brother now, he will make sure you are safe,” she whispered and turned her head to cough. I could see the blood stains on her sleeve as she turned back to me.

“Mother, I do not want to leave you,” I declared, grasping my little wooden doll in my arms.

“Elizabeth, ‘tis not safe for you here anymore,” she cried, and placed her dirty, clammy hands on my face. “I love you.”

“Mother!” I screamed. “I will not leave you!”

“Your brother will make sure to raise you good, and to get you taught,” she smiled. I could see the gap at the front of her mouth. The disease was aging her.

I felt my brother’s large hand grab me by the shoulder. “Say goodbye to mother,” he whispered to me.

I shook my head. “I will stay here, William.”

He tried to pick me up in his arms but I squirmed and escaped them. I ran onto my pallet by the hearth and laid down and cried on it.

My brother sat beside me, and rubbed my back until I stopped my crying. “Wipe your tears, all will be well.”

I looked up at him. William was five years older than me, and he looked so much like our now-dead father. He was never afraid of anything, but as I looked at him there was a sadness in his eyes, and maybe just a bit of fear.

I let him pick me up in his arms. I was so small, he could do it easily.

My mother wailed on her bed. She was such a beautiful woman. I’d gotten my light brown wavy locks from her, and her eyes were green, like my brother’s. I did not want to look at her anymore, for if I did, I was afraid I would want to stay again.

So my brother opened the door and stepped outside, and I had not the chance to say goodbye forever to my mother. Of that I always regretted.

The cart hurt me terribly. The man pushing us seemed not to notice if we were children-rather meat needing to be taken to London.

London was what my brother had decided. He said it was where everyone went, but all I wanted was to go back home, back to the warmth of our cottage.

It was terribly wet outside in this summer heat and William was sleeping, his body pressed up against mine. That did not feel good in the humid air.

I felt him wiggle in his seat and saw his eyes open.

“William, what are we to do when we get there?” I asked.

We had no food, we had no money. All we had to our name was that we were the children of William and Anne Rushford. That was it.

“You, my dear, will be a lady-in-waiting for the Queen Catherine and I will be a page to His Majesty, King Henry VIII,” he picked up my cold hands in his. “Everyone in court will know who we are.”

“Will they really?!” my eyes widened at the thought of it. William would get me to be a maid of the queen!

He nodded. “’Tis all we can really do.”

“Where are we going to live, then?”

“Well, in court, of course! You will sleep in the queen’s rooms and I guess I shall find some place warm to sleep. We will learn the ways of the court, and I will eventually become a courtier, and you shall marry a Duke, or an Earl, for the queen will make sure you do so…”

I liked listening to him talk of our future. I knew that we would get to court, and we would be famous some day soon. If only someone might agree to a twelve year old and his fragile little sister.

I would start my way out small, as a kitchen girl, and then the queen would notice me and feel horrible for me and make her instant favorite and I would live in a grand castle with hundreds of rooms for the rest of my life…

“William, I am so cold,” I sobbed as I pressed my little body up against his warm, sleeping one.

“Elizabeth, do not complain so,” he whispered, still half asleep.

The alley where we slept was so damp and cold that it did not feel like summer. No sunlight escaped through the dark fog above our heads.

My stomach growled and my whole body hurt. I swore that if I saw another rat I would go and eat it, for it was the only food we would get.

I walked over to the entrance of the alley, while people walked by. I stuck out my small, dirty hands to the passing people.

They glared at me as they walked on. They had much more important things to do than to just drop a few coins into my palm.

A kind-looking woman, one that looked like my mother passed by. There was a basket overflowing with food in her arms.

“Food mum, please give us food,” I cried, tears pouring down my face and washing away the grime that was eating away at it. But she would not even turn her head to look at us. No one did.

And here we were, stuck on the London streets, waiting for the day when we would get some money and maybe have something to eat. My stomach growled as the richly dressed women walked by.

They wouldn’t even look at us; they traveled on with their little children by their sides. Their children were clean, and dressed beautifully. I would’ve liked to wear lace collars and shiny black shoes like they did, but all I could do now was beg out in the streets.

“Please mum, I haven’t eaten in days,” William stuck out his arms, which were holding his tattered and old hat. It had been fathers. We hadn’t had a coin in there in two days.

“William,” I crawled over next to him at the end of the dirty, dark alleyway. “I am starving.”

He was frowning. “I will find us food somehow.”

I didn’t want for him to steal again. We’d almost gotten caught. I wanted some place to rest my head that night as well, for each night I was cold, even with William’s strong arms around me, and I was afraid that a cut throat would come and find us.

“Mother told me to watch over you, Elizabeth. I will not let her down,” he whispered and stuck his hat out to an older man, dressed in an extravagant doublet.

“William, when are we to go to the court. You promised we would be the most famous people there, and yet we haven’t even been inside the palace,” I looked up to the sky, seeing the outline of the mighty palace, Westminster, hidden beneath the dark fog.

He looked at me with angry eyes. “Elizabeth, right now we must find some food, and maybe a place to live if we are lucky. I don’t think we will be able to go to court in the near future.”

I started to wail. I was so young, I was hungry and tired, and I did not understand.

“Elizabeth, please, you must quiet yourself,” he whispered.

“I am so hungry, William,” I wailed, falling against his chest.

He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. He stood up.

“I will go and get some food,” he declared in a hushed tone.

He was going to steal some food, I knew by the desperate look in his eyes.

“William, do not get caught,” I whispered and let go of him.

He nodded and was off down the street.

I could smell the scent of fresh bread coming from the baker’s down the street, and my stomach growled again. I was so hungry, but yet so afraid for William.

I saw him walk into the baker’s, trying to wipe the grime off his face so as not to draw attention to himself.

Only a few seconds later I heard the baker’s door slam open and out ran William, a loaf of dark bread in his arms. He surely ran fast, but I saw someone running after him. It was an older man, and he was big and tall, and his legs moved much faster than William’s. Before my brother could reach me, the man had caught William and was holding his arms behind his back.

Being so hungry and afraid, I grabbed the loaf, which had fallen to the ground and ran. My legs were small, yet I felt invincible as I ran down the cobbled streets. The streets were crowded, but I pushed my small body through the crowds easily, the bread still in my arms.

I heard someone cry out, and the crowd stopped moving. I still kept running, afraid someone would catch me and take away my food.

I ran and ran and tears poured down my face as I wondered where William might be, and I looked back to see if he was still in the man’s arms, but as I looked back, I tripped against a loose stone in the cobbled streets and tumbled to the ground.

My small body lay on the cold ground as I heard a horse’s galloping coming my way. The horse would put me out of my misery forever, and I would let it come.

The bread was no longer in my hands, and something like water fell down my cheek, but I knew it was blood. I had gashed my head against the ground, and now I would bleed to death. Stealing was the most ultimate crime, and I deserved what came.

But I heard the horse whiny, and stop right before it reached my small, bleeding body. I heard a women let out a cry, and then footsteps against the ground. I felt someone pick me up in their arms. It almost felt like my mother was holding me again…

I felt the press of a damp cloth against my forehead. I opened my eyes just slightly, and found myself to be on a soft bed in a warm room. My eyesight was blurry, and my head hurt terribly.

“What a nasty fall you have had Miss,” I heard someone say from not too far away.

“William…”

“Your brother?” someone asked. Their accent was heavy, not English though. ‘Twas different than anything I had heard in my short life.

As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness of the room, I noticed that two women were in the room. One, who looked to be a maid, was holding the cloth to my face. The other was dressed very grand, she was in her middle age, and she was smiling down upon me.

“Your brother is fine,” the maid declared. “He was hurt too, but he will be fine.”

“But…but we stole something,” I whispered, my head dizzy with thoughts.

The grand lady smiled. “We mustn’t talk of such things, my dear. ‘Tis in the past, and now, when you get better, you shall be my lady-in-waiting, for no girl as beautiful as you deserves to be in such a state.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but…who are you?” I asked, my head pounding. I sat up just a bit, for my back had begun to hurt.

She laughed, a heavy laugh, and then I realized her accent was Spanish. It was a very beautiful accent. “Why, my dear, I am Queen Catalina, or Catherine, as they call me, of England.”

I fell against the many pillows, and I saw four other maids come over to my bed. I looked around the room, and realized I was in the queen’s apartments. The Queen of England has saved me, I thought with a smile.

“My brother had said I would be a maid to you, Your Majesty,” I said as if it were nothing.

She laughed, as did the rest of her maids. There were all beautiful, and they wore lovely gowns and jewels, almost as grand as the queen’s.

“And so he was right,” the queen smiled.

I was so tired, and my head was still hurting from the fall. I let my eyes close, so afraid that when I would wake up I would be gone from this wonderful place, and no longer would the Queen of England had saved me.

I woke up, and the first thing I saw was the queen once again before me.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” she asked in her beautiful voice.

It was warm in her room, and it felt comforting being inside of it and out of the cruel, cold streets. My head no longer hurt, but yet I was crying.

“Oh, dear, you must not be feeling well,” she sighed and touched her warm hand to my face. “You do not seem sickened, but yet, you look saddened.”

I threw my arms around her plump body, pressing my face into her richly-decorated bodice. I let the tears pour down my now-clean face.

She looked at me with her warm brown eyes. “What is wrong, my dear? Are you hurting?”

I shook my head. “I miss my mother,” I whispered.

She smiled so slightly. “Your mother can come to court as well. We will find her and bring her here for you.”

“No, you can’t,” I declared, pulling away from her.

“Why not?” she asked.

“She is dead,” I sobbed into the many pillows around me.

“Are you sure of it?” she asked, placing a jeweled hand on my back.

“The sweating sickness took away my father first, and then her. Before she died she told my brother to look after me,” I explained.

“Would you like to see your brother?” she asked.

I wiped away the tears on my face and nodded, smiling.

My brother stood at the doorway, dressed in a green velvet doublet, his face clean and his light brown hair combed. He had a smile upon his face.

He bowed to the queen, and then I ran into his arms.

“Oh brother, I knew what you said would come true. I am a lady-in-waiting to the Queen of England herself!” I cried. “What has become of you?”

“I am a page for the royal court!” he exclaimed. “Fair on my way to becoming a knight!”

I looked up at his smiling face. He looked different, but I still knew who he was. He was still my brother.

“I’ve come for a letter for Your Majesty,” he bowed again towards the queen.
“Yes, William, read it to me,” she declared.

His cheeks went red. “Your Majesty, I…I have not the skill of writing.”

“But you speak perfectly enough, and you act like a courtier already! You must be educated,” she looked my way. “As you must be my dear.”

Another lady-in-waiting took up the letter from William’s hands.

The maid let out a cry of joy. “The Princess Mary wishes you to come to her court next week, at Ludlow, and tonight the king wishes for us to come to a ball tonight. Oh, Your Majesty, may we go?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” the queen smiled.

I instantly ran to William’s side. “William, what must I do?”

“Act in the ways of the court,” he whispered while the maids were rejoicing about the ball.

“But I know not how to do such things. I cannot dance, or do whatever the court says all women must do,” I whispered back.

“Listen to the queen. She has saved you, and she loves you. She will not see you fall,” and he left the room without another word.

I walked over to the Queen, who was now sitting on a richly decorated chair near the window. The window had a beautiful view of the hunting ground and the gardens surrounding Westminster.

She took my hands in hers. “My dear Elizabeth, have you learned to read?”

“No, Your Majesty,” I shook my head, my curly brown hair bouncing.

“Have you learned to write?”

“No.”

“Have you learned to speak French?”

“No.”

“Latin?”

“No.”

“Cleaning?”

“Not much.”

“Cooking?”

“My mother was to teach me when I was older.”

“Sewing?” she asked, her eyes full of worry.

“Only a bit.”

“Then you must not know how to dance either, or play an instrument?”

“Neither,” I sighed. “I am afraid to go to court tonight, for I no nothing of what I am to do.”

She smiled. “You sound just like Mary.”

Mary was, of course, her only child. I’d heard the king loved her, yet he wanted a son. I looked upon Queen Catherine’s vibrant face. There was still much time left for her to have a son.

“What is Mary like?” I asked, for maybe I could be the queen’s lady-in-waiting and the friend to the princess.

“She is older, nine years of age, and she looks much like her father, her golden-red hair and she is tall like him,” she explained. “You shall love her.”

I smiled and then looked down to my clothes. I was wearing a nightgown-something that I hadn’t had before. At home we had slept in a shift. This nightgown was long and must have belonged to someone bigger than me. I was far too small for everything here.

“My dear, I will find you a beautiful dress for tonight,” the queen smiled. “What is your favorite color?”

I looked at her with confusion in my eyes. At home we did not choose clothes by color, I’d only had two dresses-and both were gray. We’d chosen colors by the color of gray we wished to wear.

She seemed to sense my confusion. “I will choose a dress as beautiful as those blue eyes of yours.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I smiled, hoping I would have a dress like the little girls I had seen on the street.

She disappeared into a door by the side of the hearth, where all the ladies-in-waiting had gone through as well. Could that have been her closet?

I turned to look at my surroundings. The chamber in which I was in was so large; nearly five times the size of our cottage. There were many chairs, all beautifully carved out of dark wood and covered in a velvety red fabric.

I wanted to sit on one of the beautiful chairs, just to see what it felt like, and I chose the biggest, the one the queen had sat on before.

I carefully sat down on it, and rubbed my fingers through the velvet. It felt so good against my skin. At home we hadn’t one chair in the house. We’d once had one when my father still worked, but it was big and bulky and there was no covering on top of it.

I leaned down close to look at the tiny gold buttons in the chair.

“What are you doing?” a slightly angry voice asked, causing me to jump.

I looked up at one of the other maids, who had a green dress in her arms. Three more maids walked out of the closet door, and they looked at me curiously.

“I…I was just sitting on the chair…”

“That is Queen Catherine’s chair!” on of the girls exclaimed.

“Well I’m sure she won’t mind if I just sit in it…”

One of the girls walked up to me, her eyes glaring at me. “Listen here, little girl. You are lucky if Queen Catherine saved you. We all know the likes of you, living in gutters and stealing food. People like you are not welcome at court, even if you are Her Majesty’s little favorite.”

Another maid walked up to me. “Believe me, little girl, one mistake in court, and you are done. No one will tolerate your vulgar ways.”

“I was just…”

“Best keep quiet,” another girl growled and turned on her heal.

“You have picked the most horrible place to be,” the first girl spat.

I felt like I was about to cry. All of them were against me, and each one was crowded around me, daring to strike me down.

“Girls, leave her alone,” a friendly voice called.

The ladies-in-waiting parted and another girl stepped forward. She was so different from the rest of them, with her dark hair and her dark eyes, and her face was not as deathly white as the rest of them. She was dressed beautifully, not like the rest, and she carried herself gracefully. There was something different about her voice too.

“Go elsewhere, the lot of you,” she shooed them away.

I was wiping the tears from my eyes when she whispered, “I remember coming to court when I was much younger. It was so different than in France, or the Netherlands, and I was so scared. All I wanted was to go back to France. All I had here were my sister and my brother. I’ve learned that you will always have enemies, wherever you go, but you will always have at least one friend. I will protect you from it, for you are so young. How old are you exactly, my dear?”

“Seven,” I answered, looking at her beautiful black eyes. I’d never seen eyes like that.

“That is very young to be a lady-in-waiting,” she shook her head. “So you know how to dance and have you learned your etiquette?”

I shook my head.

She smiled. “Then you have found yourself the most wonderful teacher. What is your name, my dear?”

“Elizabeth,” I replied, wiping my eyes.

She smiled again. I liked her smile. “I’ve always loved that name. I’m Anne.”

Queen Catherine came out with the dress, as deep as my blue eyes.

“You will look so beautiful in it,” Anne whispered and stood up.

As I walked beside Anne and the other maids into the large dining hall, I let out a terribly loud gasp. Anne shot me a nervous smile, reminding me to keep my head, for everyone had turned to look as the queen entered.

I looked around the dining hall. I hadn’t ever seen a room so big. There were beautiful beams hanging on the ceiling and they were decorated with colorful angels and little animals.

Tapestries covered the dark walls, all covered in red, the color of the Tudor House. There was a grand painting on the wall, a painting of the king, and as I looked down at the grand high table, I saw the king seated there, dressed in green, his cape trimmed with ermine, a very expensive material.

“The queen has arrived!” the king explained with a wonderful smile.

I couldn’t believe how young he looked next to his queen. His red-gold hair was full and curly, and there was no sign of the gray that appeared in the queen’s dark mane.

All of the maids dropped low into a curtsy towards the king. Not knowing what to do, I ducked down behind Anne and put my knees to the ground.

As we arose to the standing position, Anne whispered, “Don’t look so hopeless, Elizabeth.”

How could I not? I had never been to court, and I hadn’t a clue what I was supposed to do there. The girls slowly walked down the steps. I tried to follow, yet the steps were so steep and narrow, that I almost tumbled and fell.

I tried to hide myself behind Anne’s tall, slender body, but I was sure everyone in court saw what a fool the queen’s new lady-in-waiting was.

I sat next to Anne at a table right near the king and queen, but not as high as them, for only they could sit at the top.

The first course came out, a course of a mushy brown meat of some sort. I saw Anne chose a small piece of it, and I tried to copy everything she did.

Her back was straight up against the chair, and it was perfectly still. She moved slightly when trying to talk to people, most of them men. I found sitting like that was most uncomfortable, so when no one was looking, I slouched down in the chair.

I saw Anne had not yet touched her food. My stomach growled. I had not eaten in so long. I’d hadn’t had the chance to even take a bite of the bread we had stolen, and as I thought about it, it seemed like so long ago. But if she did not eat, I would not eat, for I was afraid of what I would do wrong then.

As I turned my head to look around the room, I saw no one my size. The room was crowded with men that looked like my father. Each man was large and each had a mustache, most of them in the cut that King Henry had.

I tried to look for a girl that I might talk to as the rest danced. I could not dance, and I would not try that night. I would have Anne to help me later. But there was no girl my size either.

I seemed to be very alone here, and I could not even find my brother.

“Anne?” I whispered as she talked to the girl sitting next to her.

“Yes?” she looked back.

“Where do the pages eat?” I asked.

She laughed, just slightly, but it was a very beautiful laugh. “They eat in the kitchens, or in the stables. Anyplace other than the dining hall. See, only the maids of the queen and the dukes and earls and all the sort of nobility eat in here.”

“But Anne, I am not nobility. Must I eat in the kitchen? I think I would like it better.”

She smiled. “Dear, in no time you will have a title. The queen loves her little maids, and she won’t have any without a title. Besides, how would you ever marry a duke or an earl if you did not have a title?”

She turned back to the girl and started talking to her again. My head was starting to hurt and all I wanted to do was just eat some food and stop the constant pounding in my head. But I wasn’t sure how I was going to eat it.

It seemed as if none of the women were eating, not even the queen, who alone with the queen was looking down at the court with a slight smile. Of course the men ate, dish after dish, but I couldn’t eat like a man. I was a lady-in-waiting to the queen now, and I would have to be good.

The king was really a wonderful man. He had a curious smile on his lips the whole time, yet he talked to Catherine rarely. I wondered how it had come to be that they had been married, for she seemed so much older than he did.

They smiled at each other much, and I wondered if they truly loved each other. Even I knew then that marriages were not made for love, they were made because of status.

When the deserts came I saw many wondrous things. First came a tray of things Anne called sweetmeats. I had heard of them, but I had never known what they were.

“Try this,” she said and placed a round purple thing on my plate.

“What is it?” I asked, not wanting to eat the mysterious thing.

“’Tis a plum, silly, a sugared plum!” she giggled and took one for herself. I saw her pull it apart in two daintily with her long fingers and plop it into her mouth.

I looked upon the glazed surface of the fruit. “Is it really sugared, then?” I could feel my eyes widen.

Sugar was something we never had at home. We could never afford it. The last time mother had added sugar to anything was when I was smaller, and when we’d had more money. She’d added it to a little cake for my birthday.

“Yes, of course, why else would it be called a sugared plum?” she couldn’t help but be impatient with me, and I forgave her. She’d grown up with all of this, and I still had so much to learn.

I placed the glazed fruit into my mouth and felt the sweetness run down my throat. It tasted so wonderful, and it was the only thing I had had in days. I could survive on sugar, I reasoned.

Then the queen stood up, her cheeks rosy and plump. She smiled, and then looked down upon me. The talking stopped.

“I would like to acknowledge that a new girl has come to serve as a lady-in-waiting to me. I would like you to be kind to her, for she is the youngest we’ve ever had, and nearly seven years younger than everyone else in this room. Miss Rushford, will you please stand up,” she called out in her heavy accent.

I could not move. I didn’t want to move. If I stood up every single person in the room would be starring at me. All of those eyes on me, I did not like it.

“Well stand up,” Anne whispered, tapping me.

I shot up and stood there, looking upon the hundreds of faces. I felt my cheeks go red, and the looks of the unenthused courtiers and nobility pierced through me like knives.

I heard someone begin to clap beside me, and slowly the whole court began to clap, and as I looked over I saw the king and queen standing, each clapping, the king nodding his head to me.

Never would I have thought that the king would acknowledge me.

I sat down when the clapping had stopped and Anne shot me a smile and everyone turned to face the still-standing king.

“We welcome you, Miss Rushford, and now we will be off to the parlor for music and dancing,” the king announced.

I shot Anne a look of terror.

As we left our seats I whispered to Anne, “What should I do? I cannot dance.”

She looked at me sympathetically. “My dear, you really do not know much of anything. But no matter, we still have much time, years, until you must be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” I asked.

“A husband, of course,” she giggled.

She ran ahead to a group of men as the music began to play. Music was played on a harpsichord and a violin. I hadn’t known what they were then, but I would learn.

I spotted the queen, seated next to the king. Anne had not told me what I was supposed to do, and there were only a few chairs at which to sit at, but I would feel terrible if I did something wrong. And what if someone asked me to dance?

“Anne,” I called out, for she was right in front of me.

“What?” she turned to face me. “Hurry please, for I think the king might wish to dance.”

“Is he good?” I asked.

“Yes, the best dancer I have ever seen. Her Majesty is good as well, but neither will dance. I wouldn’t mind if he danced with me really, for his queen would never dance,” she explained. “What did you want anyway?”

“What must I do?” I asked.

“Go sit with the queen,” she suggested and ran back to the group of comely young men.

I walked slowly to wear the king and queen sat. Now I was terrified. If I messed up anything at all I was done. And then I realized I would have to curtsy to the king. There would be no Anne for me to hide behind this time.

As soon as I stood in front of them I looked to the queen. I think she saw the discouraged look in my eyes. The king narrowed his eyes at me, and I tried not to collapse under the pressure.

The queen understood and turned to her husband. “Pray not think her offense, my dear, for she knows not the ways of court. She wants to show you respect, but she has not yet learned how to curtsy.”

“I am sorry, You Majesty,” I mumbled and looked at the ground.

I heard a crisp laugh come from his mouth. “You are very young indeed, Miss Rushford. How old are you?”

I looked into his blue eyes. They were as deep as mine. I felt my face redden. “I am seven, Your Majesty. I am to be eight when the winter comes.”

“Have you been educated?” he asked. Not that again.

“No, I have not. I haven’t learned much of anything, for my family was very poor and my mother was to teach me…”

“What has happened to your mother?” he asked-a look of deep concern on his face.

“She died of the sweats, as did my father, Your Highness,” I declared, trying not to think strongly of it.

“My Elizabeth is a very lucky girl, wouldn’t you say, my dear?” she asked the king, looking at him longingly.

He looked at her with love in his eyes, but the love seemed to be weak.

“Yes, she is very lucky to have such a beautiful and lovely woman to serve,” he smiled at me.

I stood there, not knowing what to say.

“I am feeling quite bored,” the king sighed, trying not to slouch in his chair. You couldn’t sit and look beautiful.

I shot in before Queen Catherine could saw anything. “Your Majesty, if I may just suggest, my friend Lady Anne says you are a wonderful dancer. It would be very wonderful to see you dance, if you wanted to, Your Majesty.”

“Lady Anne,” he mumbled and then shot a glance onto the dancing floor. I knew he was looking at Anne.

The queen looked at him with an indescribable look in her eyes, but only for a moment, and then it was gone. The king stood, and grabbed the queen’s hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

Queen Catherine looked sad. “I am sorry, my dear. I am not feeling too well tonight. Go and dance with another for now, I may join you later,” she smiled.

He walked down the steps from his high table without another glance at her.

The queen looked at me, a quick look, filled with much emotion. But what shot out at me was the worry in her eyes.

I saw Anne dancing with a comely dark-haired young man. Anne was a very graceful dancer, and even though I hadn’t seen the whole court dance, I could tell the dancing was centered on her. It just came naturally.

I saw the king come before them. The whole dance seemed to stop as the other boy stepped away, and the king took Anne’s hands and waist.

She looked up only briefly at me, surprise greatly showing in her face. I smiled, and I saw her smile back before they began to dance.

But as I turned back to face the queen, I saw the horrible expression on her face. I saw her trying to keep her posture, trying almost not to cry.

“Your Majesty, what is wrong?” I whispered.

She shook her head just slightly and mumbled, “Another Boleyn.”

I didn’t understand. But I would soon.

“Anne?” I whispered. I now shared a room with her, and she lay next to me in the big four canopy bed.

“Yes?” she said, and turned to look at me, a big smile on your face.

“What is a…what is a Boleyn?” I asked.

She started laughing. “That is my name, you silly. My name is Anne Boleyn. Surely you should know that!”

“I…I didn’t know. I heard Her Majesty speak it…”

“She did?”

“Yes…she…she said…another Boleyn…”

“Oh,” she mumbled, and her face went white.

“What did she mean?” I asked.

“Uh…nothing at all,” she turned away from me.

“Anne, I know it means something!”

“No, it does not mean anything!” she turned to me and screamed, and then turned away again, not daring to look at me.

After minutes of terrible silence, I whispered, “I told the king that you said he was a good dancer. That was how I got him to dance.”

“Oh. I knew that, really, for I saw the smile on your face.” She turned around to look at me, her body nearly shaking with fear. “One day I will tell you, when you will understand, okay?”

I nodded, and then thought of the look on Queen Catherine’s face. “Just tell me one thing. Does King Henry love Queen Catherine?”

She smiled and nodded. “They do love each other, and that is why this is so hard. But I will tell you, when the time is right.”

I threw my arms around her. “Will you teach me to dance, and to curtsy, and how to do everything without looking like a fool?”

She smiled. “Of course. Would you like to fly a hawk and ride a horse as well?”

I nodded, thinking of what fun I would have here.

At the end of the summer there was a joust out in the jousting field of the Windsor Castle, where the court had moved for autumn and the colder months.

“I’ve seen a part of a joust before,” I explained as Anne and I walked with the rest of the maids to join the queen in her little area outside the grounds. There we would have a perfect view of the jousts.

“You have?” she asked, not thinking someone like me would have gone to one.
But I did with my brother when I was young. I looked across the grounds to the other side of the stands, where the commoners sat. I had been one of them.

“Back where I lived, up north near York, there was a joust. Only the Mayor of York and the Lord that ruled over my little village played, and no one really noble was there,” I explained. “’Twas scary,” I added, remembering how the Lord was whacked to the ground, his arm broken.

“Well this is much different, my girl,” one of the other maids, named Joan, laughed. “You are not dressed in rags for this one.”

Anne glared at her with her piercing dark eyes and she backed down, a look of fear on her face.

“Well,” Anne sighed. “That took care of her.”

“Must they always make such remarks about me?” I asked.

“They know not better. They make the shirts for the poor, but care not further than that. They were raised without having to raise a finger.”

“But weren’t you?” I asked.

She shrugged. “My family was not always in such high power. I know personally how fast someone can rise to power.” She lowered her voice and I knew not what she was talking of. “And how fast they can fall.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing,” she looked away.

We walked into the room, pulling back the drape surrounding the area, and curtsied low to the queen.

“How wonderful that you all should join me!” she exclaimed. “Miss Rushford, will you sit next to me?” she beckoned.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” I smiled and went to sit next to her on a soft, cushioned chair.

“Have you been to a joust, my child?” she asked, and I saw the rest of the maids, Anne in front of the pack, gather to the front of the stand to watch the men riding by on their horses.

“Yes, I have,” I replied.

“There goes my father!” Anne exclaimed, pointing to a dark-looking man riding by on his horse.

“I did not know that your father was to ride today, Miss Boleyn,” the queen called to her.

Anne turned to look at the queen. “I hadn’t known either.”

As each man passed by on his horse, the queen told me who each one was. “There was Suffolk, and there is Anne’s uncle, a Howard, and then Jane Seymour’s father, next her brother, and that might just be her other brother, though so young.”

I didn’t know who those people were, but I liked how Queen Catherine was trying to make me more familiar with the court.

“Will the king be in the joust?” the maid Jane called back from where she watched the men ride by.

“Yes, I think he will be in the joust, playing Anne’s father,” she laughed. “What wonderful fun that shall be.”

I could see my brother far off to the right helping the king into his armor. He was the smallest one there. We always seemed to be the smallest, rarely even noticed in this vast court of high-born women and courtiers.

It was the king’s turn to ride by next. He was a tall, muscular man, and he was a handsome man as well. All the women loved him, but of course no one would want to hurt their queen by loving him. Everyone knew how the king and the queen loved each other.

I went to the beginning of the tent to stand next to Anne as the king rode by. I saw his piercing blue eyes as he nodded his head towards the queen, a smile upon his face, and then he nodded to us.

But his eyes were not upon all of us, but fixed on a certain girl. I thought his gaze had fallen upon me, but as I looked I saw that he was looking at Anne.

I was so worried but what that had meant that I couldn’t watch the joust.

The king had won that day; it seemed more than just winning against Anne’s father. It seemed like he was winning Anne.