The Tudor Witness

Arthur was pacing was room, his countenance serious.

“Why does this get to you so much?” Henry asked, his small voice piping up as he watched his brother.

Arthur looked at him. “I’m worried about mother.” He started pacing again.

Margaret climbed onto my lap. “Brother is silly, isn’t he Henry?”

Henry smiled at her. “He is wise, Maggie. We can learn from him. We are still small.”

“You’re right I’m wise!” Arthur bellowed.

Little Henry just rolled his eyes and sighed.

A maid walked into the room and curtsied to the three royal children. “The queen has delivered a healthy daughter.”

Arthur’s serious countenance faded away and he smiled.

“Is my mother healthy? Is the newborn healthy?” he asked.

Margaret grabbed Henry’s hand tight. Both of them were young but they knew that the last child had not lived long.

“Yes, the queen and child are both healthy. She is to be named Mary,” the maid explained and curtsied again, leaving the room.

Henry smiled. “Mary... I like the name Mary.”

Arthur let out a deep breath. “I’m so glad mother is alright,” his face was white as a ghost. He got nervous when things such as this happened. Childbirth was something he found difficult to bear.

Henry picked up Margaret and stood up. “You didn’t doubt that she would be alright, did you?” He patted Arthur’s back. “She’s a strong woman.”

Arthur nodded and swallowed, his face still white.

“How are you going to manage when your wife bares you children?” Henry asked.

Arthur’s face turned even whiter, if that was possible.

“You plan on having children, don’t you?”

“Of course I do Henry. But I’m young. Don’t ask me such things yet.”

“She will be here before you know it. What is her name... Catherine?” Henry poked fun at him. It was enjoyable to tease Arthur. “You’ve got to be prepared for her to have children.”

“Yes, Catherine of Aragon. For the Good Lord’s sake, Henry, you are six years old and you speak to me about making love to my soon-to-be wife,” Arthur scowled.

Henry just giggled. He didn’t understand half of the things Arthur was saying.

“Go play with Margaret in the nursery,” Arthur said in a demanding voice.

“The nursery?” Henry smiled again. “We are not infants, Arthur. I’m going to take her for a walk. Join us when you’ve calmed down.”

Henry took Margaret’s hand and left Arthur alone.

“Why does he worry so?” Margaret asked sheepishly and the two walked along the corridor.

“He’s always been the worrisome one. ‘Tis not good to worry about every detail of life, sister. Otherwise you will spend life worrying and die with regret.”

“You’re wise Henry...”

“I have to be, don’t I?”

“Every Tudor is wise.”

He just smiled and poked her nose playfully. “I suppose you’re right.”

=+=

The Year 1529
Autumn

“Come here,” Meg motioned to me from the queen’s door.

I stood up in front of the hearth and straightened out my dress. The queen, as usual, was sitting by her window, looking out longingly upon the countryside.

The hallway was dimly lit for midday, but I could see the worry in Meg’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Walk with me,” she whispered.

We walked along the hallway, making sure we passed no one. No one knew when spies could be around; many had found that out the hard way. We walked towards the kitchen and she talked quickly and quietly.

“The delegates, as you know, have been discussing in London about the matter of the king’s marriage. I’m glad to tell you nothing has come of it. Nothing at all. But the king is more determined to have Anne as his wife now. One other thing-Wolsey has been dismissed. Surely most of court knows by now but Anne has told me to keep it secret,” Meg explained.

All of us had been expecting it, what with the way the Boleyn’s had greatly considered Wolsey as their traitor.

“Since when do you talk to Anne?” I whispered as we turned the corner.

“I’ve been for awhile now,” she answered.

I raised my eyebrows. “You never liked Anne.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “She can be good company at times.”

I rolled my eyes. Meg was always changing her perceptions of things.

“How are things with Tom?” I asked.

She smiled. “Quite good,” she giggled.

I let out a deep breath. I’d been suspecting for awhile now that he would ask her to be his betrothed, but so far that had not come. I didn’t want that to happen…not just yet. Meg was young, just 14. She had years to wait until she married.

“There anything else I should know?” I asked.

“Anne still has her virtue,” she sighed. “It would be so much better if she was not so stubborn. It would be over by now.”

“Well, personally, I think she’s a crafty girl for keeping it. Things like that are regrettable!” I cried.

Meg turned away from me as we walked down the hall. What was that for?

“Meg?” I mumbled, but at that moment my brother came up to us.

“Hello, girls,” he said cheerfully, a smile on his face.

“Afternoon, William,” Meg and I said at once.

“Did you hear about Anne?” he asked.

“Which one is this, the one about the discussion of the marriage or of her still keeping her virtue?” I asked.

“No, it’s said that she wants Wolsey’s head rolling from the Tower,” he declared and left us, our mouth’s hanging open.

So there I was, Elizabeth Rushford, starting my fifth year at court as the Queen of England’s lady-in-waiting. I hadn’t always been so high in court. In fact my brother and I had been accepted to court by chance when our parents had died of the sweats and we had gone to London. After stealing a piece of bread and being caught, the court had taken us in. My brother had become a page, and now he was a courtier.

“Well that was quite obvious. He’s run up north, trying to hide, and most of his titles are gone. He’s gone from the king’s head advisor to not even a noble,” Meg explained.
William shrugged. “I actually agree with Anne on this.”

“Wolsey is a scary man,” I agreed.

The door to the Great Hall opened and we walked inside, instantly hearing the minstrels playing and wrapping ourselves up in court intrigue.

Goodness, how I loved court. The court of King Henry VIII was full of music, dancing, and sins easily pardoned by the rules of the day.

Tom came up, his countenance happy. He immediately kissed Meg on the mouth and took her hand, leading her down for a dance.

William sighed and looked at me. “You think you can get her to dance with me once?”

“Well, if you do I’m sure Tom will have to hurt you then,” I declared, looking at Meg and Tom dancing together, their steps graceful.

“Dance with me then,” William suggested.

I sighed heavily, not wanting people seeing me so desperate as to dance with my own brother. My brother had no one to dance with though, so I’d dance with him just once. I hadn’t been dancing in awhile.

Anne was dancing with the king, and I knew the queen wouldn’t even come out to court. She never did anymore, not wanting to face the truth that her marriage was falling apart once more.

I decided to talk to Anne that night, see how things were going since we last talked.

I easily spotted her, her waist-long black hair fluttering gracefully as she danced, her tall, slim figure standing out from the crowd of fair-haired, short women.

Court sin was clearly showing in Anne’s face and the king’s as well.

And that was life. The king wanted a son, he wanted Anne, and he wanted a new queen. And so now there was a battle-to get Anne and rid of the queen.

That night I was in Anne’s room along with Meg, sipping on spiced tea by the window.

It was early autumn, and the leaves on the trees were just beginning to change.

“What’s been going on, Anne?” Meg asked.

Anne smiled slightly, adjusting the headdress atop her head. “I’m just waiting to be the queen,” she explained. “I need more maids,” she glared at me and Meg knowingly.

She had already taken Jane Boleyn and the Seymour’s from the queen, why take anyone else.

“Anne, I’m sorry. We’ve told you, we’re with the queen until the end,” I explained.

Meg looked off again, and then declared suddenly, “I’ve decided to be your maid Anne.”

What!? Meg was the one that had despised Anne, wanted nothing to do with her. She was the one that would stay with me, and with the queen, till the end. My mouth hung open, yet Anne did not seem so surprised.

“What caused the change of heart?” Anne asked curiously while I still could not believe what I had heard.

“I have something to confess,” she turned back to us, a fire in her eyes. “I have…I have committed sin.”

Anne laughed slightly, as did I, wondering what such an innocent girl as Meg was talking about.

“I’ve lost my virtue to a man,” she muttered.

“Meg, what are you talking about?” I giggled. Meg did like to fool, but was she really fooling about this.

Anne’s eyes were suddenly dark and worried. “Elizabeth, I would like you to leave. I must talk to Meg now.”

I shook my head. “I’m old enough to hear what you’ve got to say.”

“No, Elizabeth, you’re still a little girl!” Anne exclaimed. “Some things even you cannot know!”

I ran for the door, wondering why Anne was so harsh with me all of a sudden. Anne was always frank with me, she told me anything outright, and I was not too young to understand.

But I wondered as I ran through the halls how Meg could have done such a thing. Of course she hadn’t said she was with child, but I also wondered how Tom could do such a thing when they were not even married.

I was nearly crying as I tripped while running through the halls, landing in someone’s arms.

“Tom!” I cried and threw my arms around him. “I…I wanted to talk to you.”

He seemed not to hear me as I spoke to him. “Where is Meg?”

“She is with Anne, why?” I asked, and he sped off down the hall.

I made it to my own room and sat on my bed, my pen in my lap.

Dear Princess Mary,

Seems long since you were here at court, but I am sure you will be back for Yuletide, and I will be happy to see you again.

Today was right peculiar indeed. I know not what to make of it, really. First Meg tells me that nothing has come of the meeting in London to nullify your mother’s marriage, and then she tells me she is now friend of the queen. Just moments ago she told Anne she would be her maid, a shock to say the least, and now she is saying that Tom stole her virtue, yet I was so in shook I was not even sure if she actually said his name.

Well, maybe things will be further explained tomorrow. For now I’ll try to sleep it off and put things together.

I can’t believe that soon I will be twelve, and you will be fifteen. I couldn’t imagine being your age, seems so far off, yet it’s only three years away.

I hope things may make sense in the morning. Until next time.

Your Faithful Servant
Elizabeth Rushford

At around midnight, as I was sleeping, I suddenly awoke at the sound of soft weeping.

I lit one small candle to see just slightly Meg lying beside me, her body shaking and her face not visible to me, but I knew she was crying.

“Meg,” I called and touched my hand to her soft blonde hair.

“Oh, Elizabeth, how stupid I am!” she cried, turning to me, her eyes red from crying for so long.

“It’s okay Meg,” I said suddenly. “You love Tom and if you are to seal the deal then do it that way.”

She started wailing more at that.

I knew what that meant, and in fact, I was surprisingly calm. Meg was like a magnet for men, the blonde Anne of the English court at a ripe age of 14 years. But still, Tom loved her more than anything, and wasn’t it a year now that he had courted her. Surely now she loved him more than anything herself.

“I can trust in you, Elizabeth, with anything at all. I will tell you this, and you mustn’t tell anyone. Okay?” she asked.

I nodded and looked into her glistening blue-gray eyes.

“For awhile now I’ve had Tom as my own. I do love him, so much, and that is why he must not be told. In spring I met someone…this wonderful boy, a French boy,” her eyes lit up. “His name was François, and oh how comely he was. He had come to court with his brother to look for some work, for his family had moved here from France for here it was less money to live.

“He came to court only a few times, and I meet him then, and he was just there at the gates, looking for a job. I happened to be passing by, and he called to me with an accent three times as strong as Anne’s, and then our eyes locked. Oh Elizabeth, if you have ever heard of love at first sight then I knew it was this.

“I came back every day to the gates at Hampton Court, hoping to see him. And he came back every day to see me. One day, when you were gone, I had him come into court with me. From then on every second that you were not around and I knew I would not get caught I spent with him in our room.

“I knew it was wrong, I was a respectable girl and I had Tom. I knew it was terrible and I knew I would regret things later, but his lovely accent and his comely green eyes bewitched me.

“Then one day things changed. He told me that his father had found better living up in the north, up in Scotland. He told me he was to leave, yet neither one of us wanted to say goodbye. He told me that it was our last time together. You were gone with Anne that night, and things worked out. Oh Elizabeth, that was the most wonderful night of my life. Things just…came naturally. I’d never felt that much love for one person. But how I hated and regretted myself for it later, I could not tell you how terrible it was. I cannot let Tom know,” she finally added and was done.

I was not sure what to do or what to say. Occurrences like this were few, and being young and unknowing about love, I did not really fully understand how Meg suffered with what she had done.

“You must tell Tom,” I finally said.

“Elizabeth, I cannot!” I cried. “Don’t you understand? I won’t have a future, I won’t have a life if I do not marry him!”

“But you will be lying to him! And if you really don’t love him and you’d rather be off with other men then why do you even bother to continue pretending to love him?” I cried, tears suddenly streaming down my face. “Meg, I know that he loves you more than anything in this world and you just go off with another man because his accent is French?!”

“No, Elizabeth, you don’t understand! Maybe you will when you are older but you just don’t get it,” she pleaded.

“I just really hope you aren’t with child. Then I will surely tell Tom it is not his,” I spat and turned on my side, pulling the covers and a pillow over my head to drain out Meg’s crying.

Was keeping a horrible lie from Tom worth it all?

I was out riding the next day while Meg was with Anne. I could not believe she had actually gone and become Anne’s maid. Queen Catherine did not seem to care much about it, though. She still had me, and three others-Alice, Joan, and Bess. Yet I could tell all of this was taking a toll on her.

As I was riding along the path, the wind rustling up my dress a bit, I spotted Tom riding ahead of me. Oh I did not want to talk to him, not then and there. I didn’t know what to say.

“Hello, Elizabeth,” he called to me, his light brown hair gently waving in the breeze.

“Good morning, Tom,” I called back when he was closer.

“Mind if I ride with you?” he asked.

I shook my head, though I really did mind. I had not decided yet what I would say to him.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” he declared as the wind picked up a bit.

I nodded and looked off to the hills to our right.

“You look worried about something,” Tom said.

I turned back to look at him. “Oh…no, I’m not. I’m fine.”

“Come on, there must be something.”

“Nothing.”

“So you are not going to tell me that Meg has become Anne’s maid? I thought you would search for me and be the first to tell me,” he added with a laugh at the end.

I felt my face get hot. “No, I just thought you would know, so I did not tell you.”

“Did you then?” he laughed. “Makes me wonder if there is something else that you are not telling me.”

My body stiffened and I tried not to hesitate, or he would surely think I was keeping something from him. “Come on, Tom, I tell you everything.”

“Well whenever you need to tell me something important then go ahead and I will listen,” he nodded and looked at me with those green-blue eyes, reminding me of his sister Hannah.

Hannah had been my greatest friend. She had come to court when Tom’s father had by luck become an Earl. She was exactly my age, and we were like sisters. Then, more than a year ago, the sweating sickness overtook London. The queen had told me, my brother, Tom, and Hannah to escape to Ludlow and live with Princess Mary until the sickness had passed. Hannah had chosen to stay though, and the she succumbed to the sickness. ‘Twas the second time I’d never gotten to say goodbye to someone I loved. The first had been my mother, also dead of the sweats almost five years past.

Tom seemed to read my mind. “You thinking about Hannah?” he asked.

I nodded. “I wish we were at Windsor.” That was where she had died and been buried near the ancient chapel in the courtyard. I liked to go there and just lie on the grass and think about her.

“My father says the king wants to go to Windsor for Yuletide, but he was also suggesting we go to York Place.”

“Isn’t that Cardinal Wolsey’s manor?” I had seen the place a few times when we traveled down the Thames. It was a small palace, but the king had it now that Wolsey was gone and he might have wanted to expand.

“The king is already building a grand banqueting hall there, and he wants to rename it,” Tom explained.

“But there are so many court places. Hampton Court, Windsor, Westminster, Greenwich, and Eltham-surely he doesn’t need any more.”

“He is the king, he can do as he likes.”

“Well we know that,” I sighed, thinking of Anne.

“Yes, Elizabeth, we all know of your little plan that Anne should follow. Bed the king and be done with it. Yet Anne is stubborn, and otherwise, why would she listen to an eleven year old?”

I glared at him. Why did people have to put me down for my age? “Do I act that young to you?”

“That does not matter Elizabeth. People only care about your stature. And right now you look like an eleven year old, no matter how sharp your mind is.”

“I can’t wait to be older,” I sighed.

“Yes, then you might have a dance partner. Seems forever since you were out dancing with someone other than your brother,” he joked.

It wasn’t funny though. I missed the days when I danced with Tom and Hannah danced with my brother. Now it seemed everything had changed with Meg around. I couldn’t believe that not too long ago, when Hannah was alive, I was to be betrothed to Tom and Hannah to my brother. But all that dissolved when Hannah died and Tom and William became courtiers.

“I miss Hannah,” I said suddenly.

“To tell you the truth I still mourn for her. Such a great friend she was to you. Now you’ve really got just Anne, and Meg, and me, and your brother. Yet the next youngest of the group is Meg, and she is still three years older than you. My mother still does mourn too, and she spends most of her time in the chapel praying with the queen. Such devout Catholics they are.

“They must understand each other’s pain though. Queen Catherine lost what, five children? When I see my mother grieve I think that the queen’s pain must be unbearable.”

We rode along, watching the sun rising higher into the sky and the gold leaves falling gently from the trees.

“Tom, if someone you love did something they regret would you want them to tell you?” I hesitated.

He stopped his horse. “Why, who did something?”

“Oh, no one. It’s concerning me…and someone I know,” I muttered.

“Well I’d say that the person should be honest with the one they love. That way they won’t find out from someone else first. If the two love each other equally then the person that has done wrong will be easily forgiven,” he answered.

I nodded. So I would not tell him, not ever. It was Meg’s decision to tell him, if she ever wanted to.

Meg sat next to me at dinner that night.

“You did not tell him, did you?” she exclaimed, looking at Tom, who sat across from us.

“No, of course not,” I muttered and took a sip of the watered-down wine in my goblet.

“And you won’t tell him ever, will you?” she asked, her eyes looking worried.

“It’s your decision if you ever want to tell him.”

She nodded and turned her head to lock eyes with Tom again. I hoped I would not regret not telling him.

The queen was not in court that night again, and the king sat alone at the high table, smiling slyly down at Anne. Right then I wanted Hannah. And wanted someone my age who understood, and who I could confide to in everything.

“Excuse me,” I muttered and left the table.

I left the Great Hall and skipped off to the chapel, where I was sure the queen was. She was there kneeling on the cold stone floor, her hands in a prayerful attitude. I could hear her muttering her prayers in Spanish. Awhile back she had promised me she would teach me Spanish, but so far she had not. All I knew was a bit of French.

I silently kneeled next to her. I wasn’t sure if she ever noticed I was there. She continued her prayers and did not turn to me even as my mouth began to move and mutter out the few prayers I had memorized.

I wasn’t the best at praying, but sometimes I liked asking God for some specific things. Before my mother had died she had told me things only improved when you prayed to God and asked him to make it better.

“Dear God, please look over me and my friends and keep them in good health. Please allow the king to allow Mary to come at Yuletide this year, for I fell so lonely here. Please give me a sign as to whether it is right or not to tell Tom of Meg’s wrongdoings. I really don’t know how I can keep such a thing from him so long. Lord, can you help Meg to tell him. I know she does not want to but things might be better if she does.

“Also look after the health of Queen Catherine, for she is like a mother to me. Keep her queen, it is her right, and allow Anne a small penance to become like she was when I first came to court. Allow me to take the right path and say the right things to her, for both Anne and the queen are my friends, and I wish to hurt neither.

“Please tell my mother and father that I love them and I miss them. Also look after Hannah. I hope she is not lonely up in Heaven, but I am mighty sure that there are some other little girls to play with. Just please make sure she does not forget me, for I shall never forget her.”

Only then did I realize that the queen’s arms were around me. She was sobbing softly.

“Oh, Your Majesty, what is wrong?” I asked.

“You are such a precious child, my dear. You have such a strong heart for so little a girl. Of that you should be proud. Only few can talk to God as if he were a friend like you do,” she smiled slightly as she wiped the few tears from her wrinkled cheeks. “So much life ahead of you. Do not waste it away, dear.”

“I promise I won’t,” I smiled and embraced her.

“So here we are, no closer to you being queen than three years ago,” Meg sighed.

“Honestly, do you think it will ever come?” maybe I was just a little bold in saying it, but well, Anne was bold enough with me.

“Well I will find a way to make it happen,” Anne declared. “No one shuns the Boleyn’s, we get what we want.”

Anne never seemed to be thankful for what she had anymore. She had a title; she had the king’s love. If any other girl were in her position surely they would be too thankful to even think straight. But Anne wanted more; she needed more than she had. Maybe someday she would understand how wrong she was. And she never thanked God for what she had. But she had never been very religious.

“So what is happening with Wolsey these days?” I asked.

“I could care less where the bastard is hiding,” Anne spat. “He’s probably up near Ipswich or somewhere around there. But when he is found he will lose his head!”

“Anne, don’t you think that he can be pardoned?” Meg asked.

Anne’s eyes were aflame. “He is treasonous towards my family!”

Meg and I did not say a word, but Anne stormed from her room and into the bedchamber.

“Why did you even become her maid?” I muttered.

“Eventually we will all have to,” Meg sighed. “I decided I’d get to know her better, make my experience here more pleasant.”

“I really miss you, you know. The queen only has three left,” I reminded. “Why can’t you just come back until the queen is forced to leave court?”

Meg shrugged. “I guess I like it here.”

I turned around on the chaise to look at the Seymour girls and Jane Boleyn silently sewing by the fire. They looked up at me with sad eyes and I went to join them.

“I miss the queen, tell her I wish her good health,” Jane Seymour asked of me.

“I will do that,” I nodded.

“Things are changing. They aren’t the same as they used to be,” Elizabeth Seymour mumbled.

“Elizabeth, things have been changing for years. Why don’t you come down to Earth and see what happens when you look around,” Jane declared, slapping her sister.

“No, I know what she means,” Jane Boleyn whispered. “We are dealing with an overly powerful family; the most powerful family in England is vying for their daughter to be the Queen of England. People respect the Boleyn’s and others who do not will die at the axe.”

That night Anne asked me to stay with her and sleep in her bed like we had done years ago.

“Seems awhile since we talked alone,” Anne smiled, the candlelight falling gently against her beautiful face.

I nodded.

“I want you to know that things will not change after all this has happened,” Anne explained.

“Anne, do you really think I will believe that?” I sighed.

“You can believe what you like, but when the king is mine and I am queen, Mary will still have her title if the king wants her to have it.”

“Anne, you and I both know that things will not be the same. I mean, if the king cannot get a dispensation from the Pope then however will you marry him?”

“I am a crafty girl, you should know,” she smiled slightly.

“Crafty and wise and smart and perfect,” I added.

“Come on now, Elizabeth,” she giggled. “Must you always tease?”

“I don’t tease, I speak the truth.”

“You’ve got to stop being so serious. Live life like a little girl. I surely would if I were your age. Be serious when you are older.”

“In times like these, Anne, I think it best to act older than I should.”

“Oh, Elizabeth,” she wrapped her arms around me. “With me as your friend you need not worry about one little thing. I want you to be a little girl for once in awhile.”

“Anne I don’t want to be a little girl!” I pushed her away. “I already cannot take it that I have no one my age to turn to. I barely have anyone to turn to, what with all this romance that I’m not supposed to know about.”

Anne lay on her stomach and looked out the window at the head of her bed. “And maybe sometimes I wish I never was the king’s love.”

“Anne, you’ve got everything going for you. You do love him!” I exclaimed.

“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to love who I wanted? Elizabeth, I’ve told you about the letters haven’t I?”

“The ones from the king?”

She nodded her head. “You know I only ever got to read one of them. My family took all of them from my grasp. I never knew long ago how much the king did love me. The one they let me see was concerning my sister! He asked if I still talked to her, Elizabeth! My family wanted me to think that the king still wanted my sister, and not me. What kind of family is that? I loved the king, and I thought he had loved me. Maybe if they would have showed me those other letters, those ones of love, then I would have been the king’s mistress and be done with it!”

“You…you didn’t know the king loved you?”

“In the beginning he sent me gifts. Jewels, charms, gems and the like. I sent them back, telling him his affections were flattering, yet I told him he had a wife, and to point his affections toward her. He loved me so much Elizabeth. I read those letters later when I had my high place at court. He told me he would die to have me in his arms, that it hurt him when I did not come to see him. How could a man like him love such a girl as me?” she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. “If you haven’t noticed, I am not a beautiful woman when it comes to this country!”

I held her close as she continued to cry.

“Every morning I wake up and wonder if this is worth it all, and every night I go to sleep hoping the king will love me more the next day,” she sobbed. Her words shot to my heart.

“I could never be you,” I whispered.

She looked up at me sadly. “And I never thought I could be as powerful as my sister. Things change faster than you can even take them in.”

There was a knock at the door. Anne jumped and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“Do I look okay?” she whispered.

I nodded quickly.

“Good, now hide in the corner, close your eyes, and cover your ears,” Anne instructed in a demanding voice and I ran to the corner behind one of Anne’s numerous pieces of furniture.

I could easily hide myself, being small, yet I did not know why I had to hide.
“Anne, it’s me,” I heard a familiar voice call from behind the door.

I saw Anne pull down her chemise and run her fingers quickly through her hair. She opened the door and dropped down into a short curtsy.

“Your Highness,” she mumbled, and I tried not to gasp as the king quickly shuffled in, closed the door, and threw his arms around her.

“I’ve missed you already,” the king smiled and laid a kiss upon her lips.

I closed my eyes instantly, hoping not to see something that would forever scar me, yet my curiosity only let them stay shut for but a few seconds.

“Say my name, Anne,” the king whispered, loosening Anne’s chemise just a bit and kissing her again.

“Henry…” Anne muttered with passion and started kissing him vigorously.

I wanted to go out right then and stop Anne. Even Anne, called a prostitute to her face everyday, could not simply give herself up like that.

“Say it again,” he demanded, kissing her neck.

“Henry VIII, King of England,” she smiled.

The king smiled slightly. “Anne Boleyn, Queen of England. Sounds beautiful.”

Anne started to giggle and then kissed him full on the mouth again as they fell on the bed.

I closed my eyes and pulled my head down, trying to stop the tears and trying to find comfort in my little corner. Maybe it was all for the best, though. The king did need a son, but how far would he go for one?

After what seemed an eternity, I heard Anne whisper, “You should go now.”

“It will be long before I am in your arms again.”

“Oh, Henry, you can have me all you want when I am your queen,” I could practically see the sly smile on her face.

They kissed again, but softly, and he finally left. I let out a few deep breaths until Anne told me I could come out.

I was crying hysterically now. I wanted to be older, to be treated like an adult, but I was not ready for such things at that. Maybe I would try to be a child for just a bit more. Growing up was something I did not want to do, not just yet.

Anne instantly ran to me and threw her arms around my wailing body.

“Don’t want to grow up now do you?” Anne seemed to read my mind.

I shook my head and buried my face into her nightgown. She smelled like the king.

Meg and I walked along the path with the queen and her other maids on our way to the jousting field. Though it was the middle of autumn, it was unusually warm, and the king had called for a joust.

The dry grass crunched under my feet, hungering for some rain, which we hadn’t seen in days.

“So you’re saying you saw the king and Anne together?” Meg whispered as we walked along with the queen’s entourage.

I nodded slowly. “Why aren’t you with Anne anyway?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to walk with you. Why must you always ask so many questions?”

“I’ve always been a curious girl,” I answered as we climbed up into the seats, sitting next to Anne.

A little area next to us was where the king and queen sat, looking down upon the jousting field. Anne was too busy to talk, she was staring at the king, who was shooting her quick glances and smiling curiously.

Behind us sat the king’s sister, Mary, who had been Queen of France briefly when she was younger. She then married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who was the king’s best friend. Beside her sat two little girls. I took them to be her children, but yet I hadn’t ever seen them before. They wore beautiful ermine and red dresses, each matching, and their hair was red-brown like their mother’s. They smiled at me slightly and the one motioned to me to sit next to her, the one with the big blue eyes.

Mary was with Tom and Anne was too intent on watching the king, so I agreed and went to sit next to the girls.

“You are Lady Elizabeth Rushford?” the one with the blue eyes asked.

I nodded and smiled. “I have never seen the two of you before. Have you been to court often?”

The one with the gray eyes began to giggle. “We are under the supervision of our aunt now. I guess we will be at court now then we usually are.”

“We have heard about you,” the one said. Her hair was much curlier than her sisters, and she seemed older. “I’m Frances.”

“And I’m Eleanor!” the other squealed.

“People think it is hard to tell us apart, but really I don’t think it is. She is ten and I am twelve,” Frances explained. “My hair is darker, hers is redder. And I have blue eyes.”

“We have heard from the queen that you have never had lessons. Would you like to join us in our lessons? Our uncle, the king, has the best tutors for us. We were recently with the Princess Mary as well, and she couldn’t stop talking about you!” Eleanor explained.

“Really? She misses me then?” I asked, for she hadn’t written a letter to me in weeks.

“Oh of course! She wondered if you still thought about her though, says she hasn’t gotten a letter from you in a long while,” Frances sighed.

“That’s odd…I write to her nearly everyday,” I mumbled.

“Well you know how it is with all the spies and mail interception,” Frances added.

I nodded slowly, remembering all the secretive things I had put in those letters, things about Anne and about the court. I’d have to be mighty careful what I put in my letters.

“So would you like to join us, I’m sure the queen won’t mind. Frances, you ask the queen and I will ask mother,” Eleanor added and each reached over to ask.

A few moments later each turned back and smiled. “Okay, today it is!”

I looked to their mother, who was a beautiful woman. She resembled her brother. She smiled at me and then turned back to the joust, which included her husband.

Just then I heard the cries of, “Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, against peasant!”

The flag went down and the two horses raced toward each other with shouts of joy from the crowd. The court liked it when they knew a peasant was about to get smashed to the ground. It was easy to pick out which one was the duke and which one was the peasant based on armor-also based on the cries and pointing from Frances and Eleanor.

“Father is the best at jousting!” Eleanor giggled. The sun fell upon her hair just right, turning her hair golden red.

The peasant, to no surprise, was knocked down to the ground and joyous cries went up around the arena. A few people went up to the peasant, who was unmoving upon the ground.

Frances sat back down with a gasp while everyone else was still cheering.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“He’s not moving,” she threw her hands over her mouth and added, “I think he is dead.”

The queen ran from her little pavilion down to the ground when the cries died down and people began to realize what was happening. Lady Brandon, taking the queen’s lead, ran ahead as well to see the peasant.

A few moments later Suffolk came over and his wife fell into his arms. The queen turned back to the court with a horrible expression on her face. A peasant had died.

So common it was, yet it all fell heavy on our hearts. They picked up the dead, bleeding body and wrapped him up in a sheet. I couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be for his family when they were told he had died for the enjoyment of others. So young he looked, too. The blood was pushed around in the sand so that no one could see and then the king stood up.

“Unfortunate things happen when people least expect. Let us pray that God will take in a soul as what died today out on the field,” the king bowed his head and placed him hands in a prayerful attitude.

Usually Cardinal Wolsey led the praying, but with him gone we kept the prayers inside our head.

“Prayer is what fixes everything,” Frances whispered.

I nodded.

“The king was named Defender of the Faith by the Pope himself, you know, before all of this Anne Boleyn stuff came about. Now the Pope is practically held captive in the Holy Roman Emperor’s court,” she explained.

“And he’s not anymore?” I asked.

“He won’t be if he still pursues Anne and marries her against the church rule. He will be excommunicated surely,” Eleanor explained as we were supposed to pray.

“Exe…what?” I had no clue what she was talking about.

“Excommunicated. You will learn when we have lessons,” Frances mumbled and went back to her prayers.

Even the king’s sister and his own best friend did not approve of Anne. When would the king overcome this spell and realize that the one he loved had always been there for him? No one wanted Anne as queen.

I was happy that my search for learning had ended and I could finally learn what I ought to know. I couldn’t wait to have lessons with the Brandon’s.

As the girls and I walked back to the castle, we went over things.

“Elizabeth, being so young, you will need to dedicate many hours to lessons,” the queen explained. “But ‘tis good that you will finally learn what I cannot teach you. I think it best that you only be my maid when I am in dire need. Instead, after lessons come to church and pray with me. That way you will still be acknowledged as my lady-in-waiting.”

“I won’t ever get to see you!” Meg whined, grasping my hand, Tom right behind her.

“I barely see you anyway now that you are with Anne,” I reminded.

Frances pulled me over just a bit. “Your friend is Anne’s maid?”

I nodded, not knowing if it was such a good idea to answer. “I was Anne’s friend for five years as well, and I cannot simply just hate her as most of the court readily does.”

I looked over at Anne’s entourage, which consisted of her disgusted maids, her brother, a few more relatives, and many other men and women dressed in French fashions, trying to copy Anne as much as they could.

“Oh,” Frances mumbled and went to walk nearer to her sister.

“So, lessons in the morning, prayer with the queen, and then I will have time to go out in court and spend time with you,” I turned to Meg and Tom.

“You won’t have time to ride then!” Tom cried.

“Actually, she will. A French horseman comes up from the continent every summer to teach us better riding techniques,” Frances explained.

“I cannot wait until we start lessons!” Eleanor cried. “In the morning we have French, and then we have history, geography, writing, and sciences. Then we have etiquette and Latin later, after dinner,” Eleanor told me the whole schedule.

A whole other entourage came forward, including the king. A new man was by the king’s side as they walked over to Anne’s group.

“I’ve seen that man before, who is he?” I asked.

Meg shot in. “That is Thomas More, replaced Wolsey as Lord Chancellor and advisor to the king. He opposes the king’s plan to marry Anne, but he tries to hide it for the safety of his family.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I am the one that told her.”

I sighed and turned away. I missed the days when Tom would run to my room and tell me all the latest gossip. Now all he wanted when he came to my room was Meg. I wouldn’t see him at all now that I would have lessons.

“Lessons tomorrow!” Eleanor called as we split up at the palace door, each going in different directions.

“We will come and get you in the morning,” Frances added.

“I’ll be ready!” I called, smiling. Maybe I would finally learn some valuable things.

That night Anne called me to her room again.

“I’m going to ask you again,” she smiled.

“No, Anne, I cannot be your maid,” I replied.

“Oh, but Elizabeth it will be so much better here with me than that old cow,” she giggled.

I didn’t even pay attention to Anne’s terrible jokes anymore. It was not worth fighting back at them.

“You know how you never allow the king to bed you? ‘Tis quite the same with this, you know. I cannot be your maid, and you will not bed the king,” I felt my lips curve up in a smile as Anne rolled her eyes at me.

“That is the farthest thing from being the same, Elizabeth.”

We sat in silence for a bit, listening to the crackling of the fire.

“He loved me far longer than I ever thought,” Anne suddenly whispered. “Sent me things as far back as six years ago, before I even knew he loved me, when he had my sister in his grasp. I never knew. My father never told me. In his letters he told me he loved me, long before I ever even knew it. Sent me tokens and such so far back. He asked me to be his formal mistress right after my sister was banished! You must understand that I can only give myself to the man I marry, for I have seen what it has all done to my sister.”

“I do understand, Anne,” I said.

Anne was smiling slightly. “No, no one does. I do not deserve this, not one single bit of it.”

“Send them all back,” she added in a mumble.

“What?”

“Tell all my maids to leave, go back where they came from. ‘Tis not worth it. The queen is the rightful queen and I am nothing but Marquess of Pembroke. Tell them to leave,” she sobbed and did not look up at me.

Even though it was such a hard thing to do, I got up and told all of the maids out in the room to leave. I told the Seymour’s and Jane Boleyn and Meg to all go back to the queen, and then maybe Anne would call them back if the time did come that she needed him.

Her brother was in her parlor as well. “She’s told you to say this, then?” he asked me.

I nodded, looking upon his downcast face.

He shook his head slowly and turned to leave.

I returned to Anne’s room then, where she lie down peacefully upon her bed. “I do not deserve any of it,” she muttered to herself. “His Majesty does not deserve someone like me.”

I wanted to be honest with her. “Anne, I could never be you.”

“Seems I cannot even be me,” she laughed, and wrapped her arms around me. “The king tearing apart the queen just to have me. I wish I could stop it, but I cannot. There is no way but just to go along with it.”

I buried my face in her neck, trying to wonder just how she could bear with this.

Near the end of November Wolsey was to be brought to London for his trial and his execution. On the way down though, on the way to his execution, so fearful he was that he died before he could be tried. Now Wolsey was gone and the Boleyn’s could breathe easier.

Now all they needed was their daughter on the throne and they would forever have their place in history.