tear me to pieces, skin and bone

Chapter Seven

"How could you be so foolish?" Thomas Boleyn snapped, his eyes shrewd and cold as they scrutinized Anne. The three of them had burst into her quarters that afternoon, Father, George and Norfolk. George had not been able to meet her eyes and she knew that he had told them what had occurred at her gathering last night. Thomas had been furious and Anne was sure that if he did not fear the King's wrath, then he would have beat her bloody.

Norfolk remained quiet, his eyes cold and calculating as he evaluated her.

She did not bother to spare George a glance. She knew better than to have his support now. The betrayal still stung all those months later after he gave her father Henry's letters. She could not trust him, her sweet foolish brother who loved power more than her. 'Twas a pity, for the secret she kept for him was sure to earn him a trip to the chopping block regardless of the King's love for her.

She felt a brief longing for Mary. Her older sister had been sent back home to Hever Castle the moment Henry set his sight on Anne. It would do no good to remind others of their brief affair, and though it pained Anne that Henry had bedded her sister. But Mary, her sweet, foolish older sister, would have spoken up for her.

Alas, she was alone, surrounded by vipers she called her family.

"We just slept," Anne repeated, the lie rolling off her tongue easily.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Thomas spat, his fury growing as he stood, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. Anne did not flinch like George. She did not cower beneath his fury as she once had. "The way you both parade around the palace, not one person will believe that you are still a virgin after last night-"

Anne cut him off with a bitter laugh. "Forgive me, but you have no concern for my virtue," she exclaimed. "You were willing to let me go to the King's bed until I made him love me so much he was willing to make me his Queen."

"Anne," George warned quietly, his gaze wary as he watched father and daughter collide.

"Oh hush George," Anne snapped. "He loves me. He respects me! He cares not one bit about any of you!" she cried, an amused smile upon her lips. "One word from me and he would banish you all from court. I suggest that you show me some respect, Father," Anne spat, standing tall against these men who sought to bully her, control her-

No more.

She would not play the puppet anymore. She would not lie on her back for the benefits of the three men before her. No, her body was hers to do with as she pleased.

"It matters not," Norfolk spoke, his voice calm and collected despite the tension in the room. He ignored Thomas, his gaze upon Anne as though finally seeing her true potential as something other than someone to warm a King's bed. Anne suppressed a shiver. The man was a cold fish, his brilliant mind always plotting and scheming. "Half the court knows that the King spent the night in your bed. Your maidenhead is irrelevant now, Niece, whether you gave it to the King or not. As long as he believes that you have been with no other but him, he will not care."

"Then what are we to do now, Uncle?" George questioned.

"We wait," he replied simply. Thomas opened his mouth to argue but Norfolk sent him a chilling warning stare. "We wait until the Queen gives birth and then see what our options are. Although I suggest you refrain from sharing your bed with the King, Anne."

He smiled at her, a cruel and chilling thing, and she knew that it was not a request.

-&&-

In the weeks that followed, whispers and stares followed Anne around like a shadow. A small part of her ached to hide out in her quarters, but she forced herself to continue as normal as the words whore and harlot followed in her wake.