A Thousand Eyes: A Novel of Elizabeth I

Chapter 12

"Your Majesty." Matthew Parker bowed among the intricate decorations and murals of the room around us. Usually I was in the queen's chamber, but I had taken to employing the larger king's chamber for ambassadorial appointments, since they were more impressive, and I had just had a few such meetings when Mr. Parker arrived.

I extended my hand happily. "How do you fare, sir?" as he kissed it.

"I'm excited, I must say, Your Majesty. I was not prepared at first to take on such a role as this, but you have convinced me that my duty is to serve you as best I can."

I grinned. Letters had gone a long way in the past few months - the position of archbishop of Canterbury had been vacant, and I was determined to see that nobody besides the man before me filled it. "I think you will find you are well-suited for it, sir. God knows, you were always meant to come back and serve me."

"I regret that I did not have the chance before."

How peculiar. My mother had appointed him as my spiritual advisor so many years ago - when he was younger, no doubt; now his hair had all but disappeared and his face was sketched with age lines - and after her fall, many who had been close to her had fled. That was understandable. But this man had never tried to contact me, and I had not even known who he was until Kat told me a few years before. "You could have written to me. You could have asked my father, when everything died down after my mother's death, if you could serve me at Hatfield."

He bit his chapped bottom lip and nodded. "I know. I know, Your Majesty. But after what happened to your lady mother, I wanted to be as far away from the court as possible - away from the lies, the ambition and greed, everything. Surely you understand."

I truly did. And the question started in my stomach, the question I was afraid to ask, one I probably did not want to know the answer to. It tumbled out anyway. "What really happened to my mother? I know the treason part, the adultery - but everyone knows that was a farce. Why did my father really kill her?"

He looked shocked, and I immediately regretted the question. "I can't tell you for sure," he said. "Your mother was a good and pious women, I knew that of her. And by God, I am not supposed to speak of confessions to anyone, they are confidential - but good Queen Anne always confessed to me, and I do think - I think she tried very hard to be a good wife and queen. She was very concerned about the poor, she tried to petition your father to help charity, and she meddled - that was a grave mistake. She meddled. King Harry wanted a wife who would pump out sons and stay out of his way - he wanted to find the love of his life, and he wanted her to be just like that. I think - well, she was the only one of his wives whom I really knew - but I think he really loved her. I think maybe she was the love of his life. But she wasn't his perfect wife."

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. They must have betrayed me, because Matthew Parker was frowning in confusion.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?"

Perfect wife. She wasn't his perfect wife. "No, no, I'm fine." I finally understood. Father had spent so long searching - searching and searching, I thought, for a son. And he had gotten Edward off Jane Seymour, but she had died so soon. The kind of wife he always thought he deserved - the one who would sit quietly and bear him enough sons to fill the whole court - that was who he had really been searching for.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Father Parker was solemn. "I know it's been twenty years and really, this old soul hardly remember her now, but Queen Anne was a good and kind woman. She didn't deserve it and - I'm sorry. I'm really sorry you grew up without her as your mother." He sniffled, and I felt my heart swell with a sorrow already drenched in tears. "You will see her in Heaven one day, Your Majesty, and you will love her more than anyone on this earth."