The Tudor Witch Book 1 Mistress

1523 Whitehall Palace II (Edited)

Her words strike me as unsure, as if she could feel the tide turning and her friendship with the Queen becoming a memory.

** *

For the several days that we attend to Queen Katherine, her room is too quiet for my liking. The ladies closest to the Queen—most of whom being the same age as the Queen and having thick

Spanish accents—circle her closely. The few favorites, who are English-born and young, have plain faces, but sly eyes for all those not in her closest circle.

It does not take me long to deduce that the King is the main entertainment. He is the one who has always been responsible for the court's entertainment, and when he is busy with his council—like now—all activities pleasing and exciting come to a halt.

I can feel eyes upon me. They do not like my presence. A young french girl. Everything that could possibly envy the Queen's circle of foreign close friends. It is no secret our two countries have hated each other, and with my maidenly youth, I am everything that would upset these devoted ladies.

"The Queen will dislike your presence as well." A voice whispers to me.

I look to my side and find a young woman staring at me, her eyes almost black. "Why would you say such a thing?" I whisper back cautiously.

She smiles at me. "For it is true. The Queen does not like anyone who is younger than her, and these ladies do not want to compete with your beauty."

I look at the woman. Her hair is dark and sleek, her face pale, and she is petite in body; I would call her a unique beauty. She has her own distinct look. I recognize her. I have seen her before at the French Court—Mistress Boleyn.

"There is nothing to compete for, Anna," I reply, recalling her name.

"There is always someone to compete for: the King." She looks down at her needle-work, pretending to admire the pattern. "It is Anne, at this court."

I too return my gaze to my needlework, hoping to hide the shock on my face. How has she seen my intentions so clearly?

"Why would you speak to me, when others do not, Anne? If what you say is true, then you must also be competing," I reply.

She laughs at that—a quick, sharp laugh that makes you want to smile. "I do not need to compete. My sister has already gained his attention."

It was no secret that her sister, the fair Mary Carey, has caught the King's eye. Even if I have not seen her delicate hands all over him during the dances, I would have heard of it by other means. It is on everyone's lips. However, there is no guarantee she would become his mistress. It could just be a quick dalliance and nothing more.

I look into those deep dark pools and Anne stares back evenly. The way she tells her sister's position is full of confidence. She knows her sister has been with the King. She is telling me only to let me know to stay clear.

"There is nothing to say. I fear you have me all wrong. I am here only to visit my sister, the King does not even know I am present," I reply quickly.

** *

Several days in and I have found an odd familiarity with Anne. Her English is perfect, but she adds a French lilt to her sentences, which only reminds me of home. She not only knows the ways of the French court, but also prefers our fashion, our games, and quite regards herself as a Frenchlady at heart. She remembers me briefly, but I was young when she attended Queen Claude. I was not a fascinating woman, and constantly locked under my mother's arm.

We play cards to pass the time—a habit normally reserved for the men and their coins. We do not gamble for real coin, but instead play for fun. The few English ladies who are seated near us frown in disapproval. Cards are too french for most of them, and too devilish for the pious.

Anne has picked up a taste for card games when she was at the French Court. She revels in joy now that she could finally practice with an opponent. We both found it is better than sewing for hours upon hours of the day.

"Have you ever played future?" She asks while shuffling the deck.

I nod. "No," I say. I have heard of most games, but never one by that name. She smiles and begins to split the deck into three piles before us.

"If real, this game would be forbidden." She whispers for my ears only. "But lucky for us, it is for entertainment purposes only."

She begins to turn each top card over, then scrutinizes each card in turn. I learn over in interest, hoping to learn a new game. "Each card has a meaning. Combined, they are meant to reveal your past, present, and future." She smirks.

"Anne, this practice is forbidden. Joke or not, it could get us both charged for heresy," I whisper tensely before grabbing the cards and blending them together quickly.

"Kat, do not be such a spoilsport." She pouts.

I give her one of my sternest looks, eyebrows raised. "It is all fun and games till the guardsmen come knocking."

She laughs at my attempt to be earnest. Sincerity does not suit my features. "Good thing I remembered your cards then, is it not?" She says with amusement.

"I do not want to know," I say indifferently. My eyes flicker towards the pile of faced-down cards.

She ignores my refusal. "I saw a star, a fool, and a Queen."

I look up from across the table. She stares back. I look down at the stack of cards. They could mean no such thing. They were not playing cards: the Queen and fool perhaps were, but there were no stars.

"Why would you say those things? The cards can not relate to what you have said." I don't attempt to hide the concern in my voice.

"Because I wanted to see your response. It told me all I need to know." She grins mischievously.

"It did not tell you anything, for it did not make sense." I cross my arms over my chest.

"Makes plenty of sense to me. I know it makes sense to you," she smiles encouragingly. Anne is testing the waters about my heritage, I can see it clearly. A star, my deciding factor to seal my fate in England. I doubt she would be this bold unless she too is a descendant of the old Gods. Is she here for the same reason as me? Could I trust her?

"That is why you do not fear my presence. For in your mind, your sister has already gained that which is promised?" I ask, my voice low.

"You are right, Mary is part of this too. Alas, she already shares his bed. Making us two useless pawns, no longer needed to fulfill that dream."