Anne

A red headed woman sits, head held high, shoulders square, and skin pale as the moon. Her gold and red gown flows off her and past the bottom of the throne on which she sits. In her hands are the same sphere and septar I held when I was crowned queen of England. A smile slips across my face when an announcement roars out.
"All hail Queen Elizabeth the first, Queen of England." Elizabeth rose above her kingdom with a proud regal attitude posture.
"Anne," I turned to see Henry, his young body transparent through the servants and common folk behind him.
"Henry," I said in as calm a voice as I could gather. He aproached me slowly watching Elizabeth's every move carefully. Once he stood before me our eyes met.
"Your daughter is queen, I believe you can move on happily now." He stated. I shook my head before smiling and saying my final words to him.
"Elizabeth was not my daughter, she was our daughter." I whispered. He smiled and turned back to Elizabeth.
"Our daugher," He repeated.
Suddenly Jane was next to him. He turned to her and held her in a warm embrace. Just before I passed on he turned back to me and kissed my forehead softly while he spoke, "Anne."