The Boleyn King

It's A....

Henry

Pacing across the room I thought about what I would do in each situation. Jane had gone into labor and at only 6 months whatever the child would be, it would be weak.

If she gave a boy, he would live here at court until in comfort housing, under constant watch. If she gave birth to a girl, then the child will stay with her mother until her final moments. I will not get attached to a female child that would be in my life long.

If she had a stillborn then I will order her to stay at her family home and rest. After she has completely healed she shall married off to a good match, nothing too high. Maybe an earl of a viscount. Yes, the plan would be perfect.

Anne would not be able to protest in any conflict. She will have to endure the next few months with her newest stepchild.  I will comfort her as best I can, but the rest will be up to her to accept life how it is.

Thomas Seymour, Jane's brother, stepped into  the room with an unreadable face, then smiled.

"It's a boy your majesty. Born two months before his time, but in complete health, according to the midwife."

I dropped into my chair. I had been gifted with three sons in the last year. I remembered a time when I would have done anything to sire a male heir, but now a had two. I thought that with this early birth, I would be able to spare Anne a lifetime of pain, but I was wrong. If the midwife was correct then I had been gifted yet another boy who would reach adulthood.

"Bring me the child as soon as he is done being fed," I commanded. Thomas smiled wider and bowed, before leaving the room.

Anne

The news had reached me not too long after the kid formally presented his son to the court. His name was to Edward Fitzroy. "Why did you not attend the feast in the boy's honor papa?" I asked expected to be yelled at 'that I would never understand the role of a women' , instead all I got was a glare.

"That child does deserve to have the grandfather of the next king of England at his celebration. I am sorry I did not listen to you when you said the girl was trouble in the beginning. You finally  managed to carry two male heirs at one time and here the girl goes producing a bastard son to rival little Harry. " He ranted

"That boy will never rival my son. Ever. My sons are immune to the sweat, healthy as a horses, and growing everyday. George is already being arranged for the Scottish baby queen and Henry and Charles have never been on better terms."

That boy will change nothing. He will know his place, and what better place to train him than at Hatfield with his brothers and sister, where he will be acknowledged last her and address as what he is. The royal bastard of the king, future king of nothing, and rival of no one.