The Other Henry VIII

I Miss You

A/N: In the next two chapters or so, the layout is a little different. These are the first exchange secret letters between Diana and Thomas.
I decided that this style of writing would probably demonstrate the characters' feelings more efficiently. I will add a couple of these chapters in every so often until Diana has her baby, but I will still include chapters about Court life. I also wanted to say thank you so much to the readers who have read my book from the beginning to now and have been awaiting this update. You guys give me the motivation I need and I'm so grateful that we're reaching 10K views!
-RedPanda1203

7th August 1521 in the reign of His Majesty King Henry the Eighth

I always think of you. We thought that being together would satisfy us and we wouldn't have to be a secret connection anymore. But we made a mistake: instead of severing the ties, we made them stronger. I never see your face smiling before me, just frowning behind me and in every moment when you're not with me, I think of you. Perhaps you simply belong in my head and I can't get you out because it's where you're supposed to be.

I spend my days locked away from the world, protected and sheltered, but I long to know what happens while I'm gone. My husband has probably taken a mistress; this upsets me, but for the wrong reasons. It makes me wonder why he is allowed to be unfaithful but I am trapped in my silver cage unable to turn my head in any other direction but his.

Please tell me that you're missing me as much as I miss you.
And maybe then I'll know what I'm supposed to do.

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I miss you. Perhaps it would not be so unbearable if you were not paraded before me every day, even just for an hour. I have never felt more weak and powerless than when I see him hold you with false affection, because I cannot do anything but watch sadly.
I sometimes think our situation might have been better if we had not continued after you married. We took the opportunity without a second thought, but I cannot help but wonder how it would have turned out if we had tried to forget each other.
If only I had married you when we had the chance. We could have been happy together with three children and living without sin. But alas, those blissful days are gone and we are in the reality: never touching each other again; catching each other's eye every once in a while.
If I could but caress your hand once more.

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You have no idea how much I miss your smile. The way your upper lip wrinkles when you smirk at me still lingers in my mind like raindrops on blades of grass after a storm. We may never be together again, especially if this is a son, but there is no use in looking back. The past shall stay in the past and we must look forwards to how we shall cope with life without each other.
Years ago I wished that I could wear Queen of England's finery and jewels, but all I want to do now is take them off and run away as far as I can from my husband. I want to run away with you and never look back.
We will be together someday. All we can do now is wait for someday to come.

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Margaret stood by her son's bed, her hands clasped as she watched him lie silently. His delicate white eyelids were shut loosely, tiny fingers curled into a small fist by his sides.
Her son Henry, Duke of Richmond, was dead. He had not even lived two years on Earth, but he was dead. The King's only male heir.
Dead.
There were no tears left in Margaret, Princess of England. Her cheeks shone from the dry tear-tracks, eyes red-rimmed as she gazed at her son. He had been everything to her, the thought in her mind at night, the reason that she kept going in life. John had grown so distant since she had been Regent, smiling distractedly whenever she said something to him or perhaps nodding without catching her eye.
He wasn't even here to see his son and heir's last moments. Margaret still loved him, but she was greatly hardened by her loneliness. Diana despised her for being Regent; Henry envied the son that she had produced so easily; John barely spoke a word to her in one week.
Sighing, Margaret reached out to run her hands through her son's soft dark hair. He looked peaceful, at least, after such suffering.
"What will I do, Henry?"she said softly. "I have no one left. I had no one but you and now you are gone forever."